I fixed my mini-van! ALL BY MYSELF!!! Woot!
Wonder when my husband will notice? I'm not going to tell him, I'll just wait it out. Back in November, my left tail light went out. I haven't had a rear left blinker since! Santa put new bulbs in my Christmas stocking and Keith said he would change them.
In fact, my husband said he would fix my blinker at least once a week since November. It is February now, and I no longer believe him. I told him I was going to do it myself and he laughed.
I figured this repair was complicated. After all, my husband hasn't had time to devote to the project in months (and he had a 2.5 week break over the holidays from work). Curiosity got the best of me though, and I googled. The first thing that came up was a youtube video.
I watched it once, ran to the garage and got the tools and scurried out to the driveway.
Ten seconds later (give or take) I came back in the house rejoicing and high fiving myself! I did it! And it barely took any time at all. I can't believe it was so easy. My husband was home, but in his "man room" so he has no idea.
My tail light works again! My blinker works too! I fixed my van!
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Double the fun at the Orthodontist
I'm over a year into this orthodontic torture, and I've forgotten why I wanted straight teeth.
The other day I went to the orthodontist for my regular 4 week tweek. Fenna and Gracie were at school, Charlie was at his dad's house, and so I only needed a sitter for Libby. None of my friends offered to take her except one, and she was pretty busy so I didn't want to add Libby to her busy day. I'm getting tired of trying to find a sitter every month for a 90 minute time slot. I am starting to feel like I have to bed and plead. At first, my mama friends were eager to swap babysitting a little here and a little there, but they've gotten tired of that I guess. I'm going to have to start paying a real babysitter to cover my appointments. Anyway, I was lucky enough to get an offer from my next door neighbor and so Libby had a place to play while I went to the dentist. The neighbor has three dogs and so Libby was pretty excited to go to her puppy playdate. She took a bag of milkbones; she had a great time.
I told the sitter I'd be gone an hour, maybe a little more. My appointment was at 10am and I'm usually done by 11am. Ok, off I went.
I arrived right at 10:00. I was called back at 10:50. Seriously? What was taking so long? They must think the clients have no lives; everyone has ample time to sit in the waiting room endlessly. And they must think people enjoy it. Why else would I be there 50 freaking minutes? So far, the appointment isn't going well.
Finally, I was called back to the torture chamber and I waited for so long that I was happy about it. Maybe that's why they make people wait so long. Clever trick!
Leonard is my favorite assistant. He's big and strong and quick; he's smart, polite and has skills. The girls that work in there are too afraid to hurt me so they take forever and that just hurts more. The orthodontist came and looked me over and told Leonard what to do. He said to put on four more brackets on my very back molars and then change the wires to a thicker one. Leonard questioned him on the wire size, said ok and he got to work. First thing first, I must have the cheek spreader on today. Oh no! Not that thing! My face does not spread out that far. I've been told I have a big mouth, but it's not big enough for the face spreader. Torture!
And then he crammed triangle wedges in my jaw. Those things hurt! He blew dry my teeth, scraped them a bit, rinse, blow dry again. Then he glued on the brackets. Oh that glue stinks! Even worse than Leonard's bubble gum smelling gloves! But, he finally got done installing more mechanics in my mouth and I was good to go. My mouth wasn't happy but I was glad to finally leave, at 11:30! yikes.
While driving away, Ping! One of the brackets popped right off! Seriously? Nooooo! I pulled over and applied a wad of wax to the end of the wire and spit out the bracket. Great, now I have the end of a very sharp wire stabbing the back of my jaw.
I went and picked up Libby and offered her a picnic lunch at the park because she was such a good girl for my neighbor. My neighbor taught her how to play angry birds and use a drawing program on her iphone. Great, spoil my kid, thanks. She claims she didn't, but my kid already knew how! Amazing, kids take to electronics so easily.
A Happy Meal, a picnic blanket and a park made the afternoon almost perfect. The wad of wax on the end of my wire would not stay put so I was being stabbed, but otherwise the day was looking up. Until the other upper bracket popped off. Now I was being stabbed by sharp wires on both sides of my mouth! Ouch! I tried using french fries as padding. They were getting mushy and bloody. That was just gross. I decided to call for another appointment, and it was going to have to be today.
The appointment desk said I could come in but I had to be there after 2pm and before 4pm, no way could I go at 2pm because I wouldn't have enough time before I had to do the school pick-up and that usually takes an hour. I told her I'd be there at 3:15. Yay, only three hours of being stabbed. Wait, yay? Ugh, these braces are making me crazy!
When I went to pick up the girls from school, Libby fell asleep in her carseat. This worked out great! When she is asleep, she's a floppy ragdoll. Fenna was kind enough to take Gracie to the Starbucks next door to the dentist while I put Miss Floppy in the stroller and went in. They took me straight back.
The lip spreader went back on and the triangle wedges shoved back in. My mouth was still sore and tired from the first round of torture and now I'm laying here doing it again. The orthodontist came by and I should note, he's not the regular guy, he's the alternate doc. Leonard asked him if he should use a smaller wire since the larger wire was too strong and pulled the brackets off. The doc agreed, that was the problem. Geez, I'm laying here enduring a second torture and its all the dentist's fault. I remember my favorite teeth tweeker asked him about that earlier! Leonard worked fast with his stinky "fun flavored" gloves and stinky glue. Leonard rocks.
While I was laying in the chair in pain and trying not to gag, I thought to myself, "I should have gotten a boob job instead of braces. Same result: better looking. Faster. Probably less painful. And if I had a boob job, nobody would notice my crooked teeth."
The other day I went to the orthodontist for my regular 4 week tweek. Fenna and Gracie were at school, Charlie was at his dad's house, and so I only needed a sitter for Libby. None of my friends offered to take her except one, and she was pretty busy so I didn't want to add Libby to her busy day. I'm getting tired of trying to find a sitter every month for a 90 minute time slot. I am starting to feel like I have to bed and plead. At first, my mama friends were eager to swap babysitting a little here and a little there, but they've gotten tired of that I guess. I'm going to have to start paying a real babysitter to cover my appointments. Anyway, I was lucky enough to get an offer from my next door neighbor and so Libby had a place to play while I went to the dentist. The neighbor has three dogs and so Libby was pretty excited to go to her puppy playdate. She took a bag of milkbones; she had a great time.
I told the sitter I'd be gone an hour, maybe a little more. My appointment was at 10am and I'm usually done by 11am. Ok, off I went.
I arrived right at 10:00. I was called back at 10:50. Seriously? What was taking so long? They must think the clients have no lives; everyone has ample time to sit in the waiting room endlessly. And they must think people enjoy it. Why else would I be there 50 freaking minutes? So far, the appointment isn't going well.
Finally, I was called back to the torture chamber and I waited for so long that I was happy about it. Maybe that's why they make people wait so long. Clever trick!
Leonard is my favorite assistant. He's big and strong and quick; he's smart, polite and has skills. The girls that work in there are too afraid to hurt me so they take forever and that just hurts more. The orthodontist came and looked me over and told Leonard what to do. He said to put on four more brackets on my very back molars and then change the wires to a thicker one. Leonard questioned him on the wire size, said ok and he got to work. First thing first, I must have the cheek spreader on today. Oh no! Not that thing! My face does not spread out that far. I've been told I have a big mouth, but it's not big enough for the face spreader. Torture!
And then he crammed triangle wedges in my jaw. Those things hurt! He blew dry my teeth, scraped them a bit, rinse, blow dry again. Then he glued on the brackets. Oh that glue stinks! Even worse than Leonard's bubble gum smelling gloves! But, he finally got done installing more mechanics in my mouth and I was good to go. My mouth wasn't happy but I was glad to finally leave, at 11:30! yikes.
While driving away, Ping! One of the brackets popped right off! Seriously? Nooooo! I pulled over and applied a wad of wax to the end of the wire and spit out the bracket. Great, now I have the end of a very sharp wire stabbing the back of my jaw.
I went and picked up Libby and offered her a picnic lunch at the park because she was such a good girl for my neighbor. My neighbor taught her how to play angry birds and use a drawing program on her iphone. Great, spoil my kid, thanks. She claims she didn't, but my kid already knew how! Amazing, kids take to electronics so easily.
A Happy Meal, a picnic blanket and a park made the afternoon almost perfect. The wad of wax on the end of my wire would not stay put so I was being stabbed, but otherwise the day was looking up. Until the other upper bracket popped off. Now I was being stabbed by sharp wires on both sides of my mouth! Ouch! I tried using french fries as padding. They were getting mushy and bloody. That was just gross. I decided to call for another appointment, and it was going to have to be today.
The appointment desk said I could come in but I had to be there after 2pm and before 4pm, no way could I go at 2pm because I wouldn't have enough time before I had to do the school pick-up and that usually takes an hour. I told her I'd be there at 3:15. Yay, only three hours of being stabbed. Wait, yay? Ugh, these braces are making me crazy!
When I went to pick up the girls from school, Libby fell asleep in her carseat. This worked out great! When she is asleep, she's a floppy ragdoll. Fenna was kind enough to take Gracie to the Starbucks next door to the dentist while I put Miss Floppy in the stroller and went in. They took me straight back.
The lip spreader went back on and the triangle wedges shoved back in. My mouth was still sore and tired from the first round of torture and now I'm laying here doing it again. The orthodontist came by and I should note, he's not the regular guy, he's the alternate doc. Leonard asked him if he should use a smaller wire since the larger wire was too strong and pulled the brackets off. The doc agreed, that was the problem. Geez, I'm laying here enduring a second torture and its all the dentist's fault. I remember my favorite teeth tweeker asked him about that earlier! Leonard worked fast with his stinky "fun flavored" gloves and stinky glue. Leonard rocks.
While I was laying in the chair in pain and trying not to gag, I thought to myself, "I should have gotten a boob job instead of braces. Same result: better looking. Faster. Probably less painful. And if I had a boob job, nobody would notice my crooked teeth."
Friday, January 27, 2012
Little Bo Peep and her bleeding sheep
Listening to "Little Bo Peep" song in the van.
Libby, "Noooo! I don't like this song!"
Me, "Why?"
"The sheep are dead and bloody".
Me, "Oh, this is gonna be good".
Libby, "Is not good! The sheep are bleeding!"
I'm trying to listen, Libby is screaming, and sure enough in the second verse the song says "Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep, And dreamt she heard them bleating".
Me, "Bleating! The sheep are bleating!"
Libby, "I know! Cuz they're dead."
And so we discuss the linguistic difference between bleating and bleeding; and we discuss how some of the old English has been lost in translation over time. Who says you can't have a meaningful conversation with a 3 year old.
Libby, "Noooo! I don't like this song!"
Me, "Why?"
"The sheep are dead and bloody".
Me, "Oh, this is gonna be good".
Libby, "Is not good! The sheep are bleeding!"
I'm trying to listen, Libby is screaming, and sure enough in the second verse the song says "Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep, And dreamt she heard them bleating".
Me, "Bleating! The sheep are bleating!"
Libby, "I know! Cuz they're dead."
And so we discuss the linguistic difference between bleating and bleeding; and we discuss how some of the old English has been lost in translation over time. Who says you can't have a meaningful conversation with a 3 year old.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
The Ikea Project
I made it my mission for the day to clean up my kitchen and dining room. After getting the kids off to school and downing a half a pot of coffee, I went to the kitchen to tackle the problem of the day. I went in there and just looked around and thought, "ugh". And then I spied it, the real reason my kitchen never feels good.
+
I don't know who designed this house, but it was obviously a man who didn't appreciate his wife. There is a "breakfast nook" that honestly shouldn't be there. It should be cabinet and counter space. I have a nice large kitchen but everything is crammed into one corner and the rest of the space is poorly designed. We use the breakfast table (it came with the house) as a counter and we've stacked the microwave and pizza oven on it. Then, we added a "snack table" next to it for cereal and chips and all that sort of thing. There is never room for it in the cabinets. Sure, it works, but it's not pretty.
And then I turned to look at the dining room. The table is covered with Kindergarten homework, crayons, markers, etc. The kid really needs her own space to study. She can have Fenna's desk and chair next year, but in the meantime her mess might drive me crazy. I had no idea Kindergarten would require a study space at home. The world has changed and I did not plan for it.
Just looking at my messes inspired me. Finally. Sometimes inspiration takes too long. I should have thought of this years and years ago! I'll run to Ikea and buy a cabinet! And a little table and chairs set for homework and little tea parties. What time is it? Yes! I can make it! Libby, put your shoes on!
Off we went to Ikea. It's an hour long drive on a good day, so if we are lucky and don't get in any traffic jams we should be able to get there, shop, have lunch and drive home in time to pick up the girls from school. Score!
And that's how it happened. I bought a kitchen cabinet, a desk and a chair. The little table and chairs sets were too small for my tall Kindergartener.
Little did I know that Ikea things come in hundreds of pieces. And they take hours to assemble. Days, actually. And tools. Tools! I don't know how to work tools! To top it off, Ikea assembly instructions have no words, just a picture booklet. I needed help. Keith is gonna love me for this!
Keith spent two days putting together the cabinet. He understood the instructions and got that puzzle put together! It's so nice!
I put together the desk. It also took me two days. I spent $20 on the desk and it took at least 20 hours to assemble. I ended up with four extra pieces and a lot of extra screws and gizmos. Keith says there shouldn't be any extra pieces or screws. Well, there were. I had holes that didn't line up! I followed the instructions, but it still happened that I got four pieces attached upside down resulting in screwholes in all the wrong places and no screwholes in the right places. Since Keith told me to glue as I went, I couldn't take it apart and start over. Oh well, it seems solid enough without all of the extra parts. The kid is going to do her homework on it, not jump around on it; it is solid enough.
The chair was hard to put together too! I spent a few hours wrestling with it, but after crying for help it finally came together. Thanks, Keith.
The Ikea projects are done. They look great and they work great! But, the sink is still full of dirty dishes.
I don't know who designed this house, but it was obviously a man who didn't appreciate his wife. There is a "breakfast nook" that honestly shouldn't be there. It should be cabinet and counter space. I have a nice large kitchen but everything is crammed into one corner and the rest of the space is poorly designed. We use the breakfast table (it came with the house) as a counter and we've stacked the microwave and pizza oven on it. Then, we added a "snack table" next to it for cereal and chips and all that sort of thing. There is never room for it in the cabinets. Sure, it works, but it's not pretty.
And then I turned to look at the dining room. The table is covered with Kindergarten homework, crayons, markers, etc. The kid really needs her own space to study. She can have Fenna's desk and chair next year, but in the meantime her mess might drive me crazy. I had no idea Kindergarten would require a study space at home. The world has changed and I did not plan for it.
Just looking at my messes inspired me. Finally. Sometimes inspiration takes too long. I should have thought of this years and years ago! I'll run to Ikea and buy a cabinet! And a little table and chairs set for homework and little tea parties. What time is it? Yes! I can make it! Libby, put your shoes on!
Off we went to Ikea. It's an hour long drive on a good day, so if we are lucky and don't get in any traffic jams we should be able to get there, shop, have lunch and drive home in time to pick up the girls from school. Score!
And that's how it happened. I bought a kitchen cabinet, a desk and a chair. The little table and chairs sets were too small for my tall Kindergartener.
Little did I know that Ikea things come in hundreds of pieces. And they take hours to assemble. Days, actually. And tools. Tools! I don't know how to work tools! To top it off, Ikea assembly instructions have no words, just a picture booklet. I needed help. Keith is gonna love me for this!
Keith spent two days putting together the cabinet. He understood the instructions and got that puzzle put together! It's so nice!
I put together the desk. It also took me two days. I spent $20 on the desk and it took at least 20 hours to assemble. I ended up with four extra pieces and a lot of extra screws and gizmos. Keith says there shouldn't be any extra pieces or screws. Well, there were. I had holes that didn't line up! I followed the instructions, but it still happened that I got four pieces attached upside down resulting in screwholes in all the wrong places and no screwholes in the right places. Since Keith told me to glue as I went, I couldn't take it apart and start over. Oh well, it seems solid enough without all of the extra parts. The kid is going to do her homework on it, not jump around on it; it is solid enough.
The chair was hard to put together too! I spent a few hours wrestling with it, but after crying for help it finally came together. Thanks, Keith.
The Ikea projects are done. They look great and they work great! But, the sink is still full of dirty dishes.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Thursday, January 12, 2012
An Awkward Memory
It's 7am, I just poured my second cup of coffee and a silly memory popped into my head for no apparent reason. But it made me laugh at myself so I'll share!
Katie and Lexie were young, but I don't remember exactly how old they were. Must have been around age 5 or 6ish. Maybe 8. I dunno, something like that. And I don't remember which kid this was; let's blame Lexie.
We were eating at a buffet restaurant and Lexie (probably) had to use the bathroom. She was just old enough that I let her go by herself. I was nervous, but we were seating right next to the bathrooms so I could see if anyone else went in or if she was having trouble with the door, or I could just stare at the bathroom door with anxiety until she came out. Sure, go by yourself, big girl.
She did. She went to the bathroom and went in. I waited and waited and waited.
She was taking too long. She was in there way too long. I tried to give her ample time to take care of business, but she'd been in there way too long. Maybe she fell in. Maybe she can't open the door to get out. Maybe... oh, let's not go there, crazy imagination!
I went to rescue her. I'm sure I flew out of my seat and sprinted to the bathroom after finally freeing myself from the restraints of parenting an independent child. Mother bear took over. Mother Bear and Freespirit Mom often duke it out in my head. One wants to hover and protect at all times and one wants to let 'em live and learn. It can get ugly between them.
I flung the door open and ran into the bathroom only to find it empty. Nobody was in there! I started calling her name. Nothing. Nobody. PANIC!!! I ran out to go tell someone to call the police and let my husband know that our child went missing, and there she was at our table.
"Hi Mom. Why were you in the Men's bathroom?" What? Oh, geez, I was! That's why there was a urinal in there, I hardly noticed it. Husband was sitting there laughing hysterically. I bet he saw me go in the wrong door.
My rescue skills have improved since then. I think. I'm not going to let the little girls go into a public restroom by themselves anytime soon though.
What a crazy memory to start off my day!
Katie and Lexie were young, but I don't remember exactly how old they were. Must have been around age 5 or 6ish. Maybe 8. I dunno, something like that. And I don't remember which kid this was; let's blame Lexie.
We were eating at a buffet restaurant and Lexie (probably) had to use the bathroom. She was just old enough that I let her go by herself. I was nervous, but we were seating right next to the bathrooms so I could see if anyone else went in or if she was having trouble with the door, or I could just stare at the bathroom door with anxiety until she came out. Sure, go by yourself, big girl.
She did. She went to the bathroom and went in. I waited and waited and waited.
She was taking too long. She was in there way too long. I tried to give her ample time to take care of business, but she'd been in there way too long. Maybe she fell in. Maybe she can't open the door to get out. Maybe... oh, let's not go there, crazy imagination!
I went to rescue her. I'm sure I flew out of my seat and sprinted to the bathroom after finally freeing myself from the restraints of parenting an independent child. Mother bear took over. Mother Bear and Freespirit Mom often duke it out in my head. One wants to hover and protect at all times and one wants to let 'em live and learn. It can get ugly between them.
I flung the door open and ran into the bathroom only to find it empty. Nobody was in there! I started calling her name. Nothing. Nobody. PANIC!!! I ran out to go tell someone to call the police and let my husband know that our child went missing, and there she was at our table.
"Hi Mom. Why were you in the Men's bathroom?" What? Oh, geez, I was! That's why there was a urinal in there, I hardly noticed it. Husband was sitting there laughing hysterically. I bet he saw me go in the wrong door.
My rescue skills have improved since then. I think. I'm not going to let the little girls go into a public restroom by themselves anytime soon though.
What a crazy memory to start off my day!
Sunday, January 8, 2012
I need to learn how to stick the landing
This is what happens when you let a teenager hold your camera...
Yup, she will catch your most photogenic moments and then laugh at you. She will. Teenagers are like that.
Yup, she will catch your most photogenic moments and then laugh at you. She will. Teenagers are like that.
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