Jun
05
Posted by
Lorain County Moms
Somehow, probably because of food allergies, the guys had managed to make it to the ripe old ages of 5 and 3 without discovering the joys of the bulk-candy bin.
That changed Sunday, and they now have a whole new view of candy-onomics as a result.
We were headed for the grocery store when Boots grabbed a dollar from his dresser drawer. “Can I buy a treat?”
He can’t do much damage with that, I thought. “Sure. Go ahead.”
Big Guy, a more experienced treat-shopper who’s savvy to how much things cost, scoffed. “He’s not going to get much for that,” he said. That didn’t stop him from rushing to grab his own dollar, though.
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Feb
19
Posted by
besttech
Big Guy simply cannot keep his mouth shut. It’s part of his charm, but also part of his downfall.
It keeps landing him in trouble at school, too, and Chatty Charlie that he is, he always rats himself out. Most confessions come close to bedtime, when he’ll say anything to keep conversation going and avoid sleep.
“Mommy, I get my name on the board at school a lot. More than anybody,” he admitted one night this weekend.
Though I’m sure there are a number of infractions that can lead to a kid’s name being memorialized in Dry-Erase, in Big Guy’s class two things are the common triggers: Talking in class and not paying attention. With Big Guy, it’s usually the former.
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Jan
26
Posted by
besttech
I’m as geeky as the next girl but I’ve never understood iPhone infatuation, and the only blackberries I’ve craved are the ones that grow wild in the mountains in the summer.
That could be because I’m cell-phone hostile to begin with. I have one, but at times I resent its ability to interrupt my life anywhere and everywhere. I certainly didn’t want an even pricier object strapped to my hip, nagging around the clock with its incessant beeping and ringing.
Ay, but was before I knew smart phones could be kitchen toys. Now I am all about BlackBerry lust.
I could use it to organize my grocery list, which now is an old-school pen-and-paper edition the guys love to amend with their scribblings....
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Jan
22
Posted by
besttech
First thing Big Guy wanted to know after he came home with a coveted party invitation in his backpack was what we were going to buy Birthday Girl.
“It says not to bring presents,” I told him.
“Huh?”
I’m not surprised the kid who mortified me over the holidays by walking up to a guest and demanding his present was surprised. I try to raise him right. Really, I do. I’m chalking it up to the fact that we always exchange gifts with this person and hoping he’s not turning into a boy Veruca Salt.
Plus, I’ve always made a big deal out of picking presents for others. He learned it from a young age, at parties for cousins, and agonized for days over choosing the...
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Jan
16
Posted by
besttech
So why do I have a half gallon of lemonade in the refrigerator and two gallons in a Thermos vat on the patio after serving nine people and sending a pitcher full next door?
Because it seems that all you really need to entertain three kids for hours is a lemon tree and a Juiceman Jr. Good thing it’s cold here. The vat outside should stay fresh for a few days.
It was a desire to get three kids outside and out of my hair for a while that led to the project. The backyard lemon tree was loaded this year, but I feared the weekend frost would put a hurt on the crop. So I sent the kids to pick lemons, promising we’d make lemonade when they finished.
To someone who’d lived most of her life on the East...
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Jan
07
Posted by
WebGuy
As annoying companions go, it could have been much worse than Elmo. It could have been Barney, whose “need adenoid surgery” voice drove me nuts long before I had kids.
As obnoxious toys go, it couldn’t touch the possessed police or ranting robot. For that matter, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the average Crappy Meal trinket.
The only drawback to the Elmo Sing and Giggle Tool Bench — which now goes for $299, and I guarantee you I didn’t pay a fifth of that for it — was its habit of bursting into song as you talked past. “Elmo’s working at the toy bench and building with his friends — like you!” to the tune of “Working on the Railroad.” It scared the crap out of me en route to many a 2 a.m....
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Dec
21
Posted by
besttech
By Debra Legg debralegg.com
The nightly knockdowns had ended. The sleeptime smack downs were over.
And now we’re back to bedtime bedlam, due to a combination of wimpiness and stupidity on my part.
Don’t you love it when you make your own misery?
Thanks to an evil Mommy trick when daylight savings time ended — I simply “forgot” to tell them that though it was dark, it actually was an hour earlier — the guys were heading for bed at the appointed time, no international peace-keeping force required. They were waking cheerfully the next morning, and Big Guy was making it out the door for school without...
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Dec
09
Posted by
besttech
By Debra Legg debralegg.com
It started just after Big Guy snagged the impressive scholarly honor of Math Master, recognizing his ability to count and write numbers up to 30.
If it’d been just one clod who said it, I wouldn’t still be irritated weeks later. By the time the third person piped up, my head was ready to explode.
“Gosh, Big Guy’s doing well in school. I hope Little Guy’s not dumb.”
Nice. Slap great big honkin’ labels on both my kids with a single swoop. The fact that the guys weren’t within earshot when any of this was said is the only reason I let people live.
Smart....
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Nov
20
Posted by
besttech
9 to 5 to 9: Calgon take them away far, far away
By Debra Legg debralegg.com
Some days I don’t understand why the authorities frown on duct taping kids and locking them in the closet.
Days like today.
Days when Big Guy rousts me at the crack of 9 a.m. with an ear-shattering “Cousin’s coming over at 10!” and the screaming doesn’t stop for 12 hours.
I’d actually awakened three hours earlier to Little Guy’s insistent thumps on my chest. “I’m hungry. Want bwekfes. Gimme cake.”
Happily, Little Guy agreed to resnuggle after bwekfas. I thought I was clear for...
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Nov
20
Posted by
besttech
9 to 5 to 9: Calgon take them away far, far away
By Debra Legg debralegg.com
Some days I don’t understand why the authorities frown on duct taping kids and locking them in the closet.
Days like today.
Days when Big Guy rousts me at the crack of 9 a.m. with an ear-shattering “Cousin’s coming over at 10!” and the screaming doesn’t stop for 12 hours.
I’d actually awakened three hours earlier to Little Guy’s insistent thumps on my chest. “I’m hungry. Want bwekfes. Gimme cake.”
Happily, Little Guy agreed to resnuggle after bwekfas. I thought I was clear for...
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