Wordy Wednesday

What can I say?  I'm a rebel.

Do they even still do Wordless Wednesday?  I think I tried once but still had to narrate a bit.  It's an affliction of mine.  I think it is called Talkitis, or something like that.

Anyhoo, our ski trip went wonderfully.  Our boys are naturals.  There, I said it.  I bragged.  But they really are.  Poor Pete snowboarded and if you haven't done this, then know that you will fall a lot in the beginning.  In fact, I'm pretty sure teaching you to fall is one of the first lessons.  Well, I'm not sure at all and Pete just informed me that he wasn't taught to fall - it just came naturally.  lol.

RePete took up skiing.  Seeing him zooming by on short little skis with no poles just cracked me up.  I asked his instructor when they recommend poles and he stated that he doesn't recommend them until one can ski a black diamond with proficiency.  WHAT!  And he didn't say "one".  He's more of a "dude" kind of dude.

Okay so at least now I know why I suck at skiing.  It's the poles.  Next year - no poles.  I'll let you know how that goes.

Here's a picture of me and my ski bunny.

~R

Call Me Crazy

but we're headed to the mountains this weekend.  The very place I shredded my ACL a few years back.

However, this trip is for the boys.  It'll be their first time on skis and snowboards.  Pete wants to snowboard and RePete wants to ski so they'll be getting lessons on the first day.

I'll be fluff.  I still don't think I've built my leg back up enough so I won't be skiing or snowboarding.  Instead, I'll be following them to lessons, snapping photos and video and when BN takes them to the bunny slope, I'll be sipping cocoa in the lodge.  Or maybe I'll go back to my nice comfy condo.  Can you imagine being in a three bedroom condo at the top of a mountain without anyone making noises?  I can.

I should insert RePete's evil laugh here.  Moo haha  He can't quite get the "wa" sound in there and it's hilarious.

It's a shame we'll only be there for one night.  BN can't get any time off work right now and since we're taking our 16 yo nephew who would just hate to miss school (moo haha), we'll be arriving early Saturday and leaving around dinner time on Sunday.

And other than BN's guy trip to WVa to snowboard later in the month, this will be our last ski trip of the year.

Next year, I'm buying a snowboard.  Reread the title.

~R

Theater

Pete is in a little theater group that meets once a week.  The instructor/director is really great with kids and Pete really likes her.

He's been the lead male in two productions so far.  Peggy the Pint-Sized Pirate and Princess and the Pea.

He sang a duet with the other pirate and loved it because the lyrics were so goofy.

Pete was supposed to have a solo in this one, but stage fright got the better of him.   Now he doesn't want to sing anything.

For his current production,  they are doing a bit from The Fisherman and His Wife.  The director came up with a brilliant plan to get him to sing without singing.  They are using the song from High School Musical 3, "I Want it All" with a the lyrics changed to fit the script and he can say the lines while the lead female sings her parts.  This is how it is done for the most part in the movie anyway.

I can't wait to see him do it.  She has alternative lyrics that would actually have him singing if he gets bold enough.  Either way he'll be so proud of himself when he realizes he can take on a singing part again.

Be Free My Friends

A friend gave us Painted Lady Butterfly caterpillars and I already feel bad for them.  They are in these little plastic cups with mush to eat and tiny air holes in the lid.  Here soon, they'll attach themselves to the lid and  make the chrysalides.   Then we have to tape these lids to the top of a butterfly cage and wait for them to emerge.  Their little lives will be a mere 2-4 weeks.  In that cage.

But I'm gonna set them free.  After they emerge and my boys get to see them, we're gonna go out back and let them go.  The paperwork says we're not supposed to but I just can't help myself.  

It's gonna be a glorious day.

Until then, we will continue to watch them eat and poop and produce silky strands.

I may even try to get a stills video of the metamorphosis. 

To be continued...

~R

Shop 'til We Dropped

Yesterday, we went to the Prime Outlets to get ski gear for the boys.  And new dishes for us.

I was quickly distracted by the Bare Essentials store so BN and the boys rolled their eyes and left me there while they headed over to the Under Armour store.

I don't wear a lot of makeup and in fact, I usually only wear eyeliner.  But I go through these spells where I feel like putting on a little more and the BE stuff is perfect for this - very subtle.  I stocked up and applied some eye shadow before I left the store.

We shopped and shopped and shopped some more and at some point much later, Pete looked at me and asked, "Mom, what's wrong with your eyes?"

Enough said.  It's time to give up the "Mom Look" and get my life back. :-)

~R

LBP and LBP2

If you don't own these games and you want your family to continue on in a state of peace, do not buy these games.

I don't play games as a rule.  Just not good at them.  But when Lego Harry Potter came out, my hubby, knowing what a HP fan I am, bought me a pearl pink controller and I played.  And played.  And played.  I'm missing two items in the whole game and finally gave up.

Then a friend said, "Hey Robin, you've gotta buy LBP for your kids.  They'll love it."

Well, guess what?  Momma loves it too.  Momma loves it so much that she sits around tapping her toes until it's time for the kids to go to bed so she can get her game on.

But why do I wait for them to go to bed?  Because I will beat the living tar out of them if they play with me.  And I don't mean I'll beat them at the game.  I mean I will beat *them*, figuratively speaking of course.

It's a game that is so adorable, with music so soothing, totally benign on all accounts.  Except that it's easy to get ahead of the other players which in turn kills the other players.  And the levels of discovery are so fun, that one wants to get ahead, wants the bubbles, wants to get to the next checkpoint.  At the detriment to everyone else.

So like an addict laying aside his crack pipe, I've retired the pearl pink controller.

~R

We'll Die of Nothing

My husband has done it again.  He's read a book, taken it for gospel and now we all have to suffer the consequences.

I've read the book too and as someone holding a degree in nutrition, I see the physiology.  I see the biology happening.  I understand the flow of the food, but damn if I can give up what the book tells me.

The book, if you are interested is The Paleo Solution.

So, as usual, I have to prepare three meals each evening.  Actually, it's more like four since RePete no longer eats anything but eggs, PB&Js and hotdogs.  And Pirate Booty.  He loves Pirate Booty.

I make BN his paleo diet.  No grains, no dairy.  I make the kids something along those lines or sometimes altogether different.  And I either eat what the kids are eating or am forced to make my own meal.

I'm so stressed about it, I'm starting to look into the cost of hiring someone to cook dinner for us.  I can handle the breakfast and lunch, but dinner vexes me.  I think it stems from lack of caring.  Don't get me wrong, I care deeply for my men, but I've never been interested in cooking.  I never cared how my food was prepared when I was young.  My mom is an excellent southern cook and I ate anything she made (within reason).

And although I blame BN, it really is all my fault.

When BN and I struck out on our own, I was so repulsed by the raw meat when cooking that we became vegetarians for three years.

We slowly added chicken back into the mix and occasionally some turkey.  But we've been cow and pork-free since 1992. (although I've been known to partake of a barbeque sandwich)  He doesn't care for fish, so I don't cook it.  But by introducing BN to healthy thinking, I created a monster.

Year after year, he finds more and more things to add or eliminate.

I'm a mess.

I long for a time when meals were cooked lovingly in bacon drippings.

~R