Category: Kids

Most explosive

So, Andrew’s car won “most explosive” last night at the “extreme” pinewood derby. One of the nice thing about Boy Scouts is the pinewood derby isn’t quite the ordeal that it was in Cub Scouts (special weigh-ins, lockdowns, etc.). And, if the dads want to participate, they build their own car. It’s pretty much anything goes. One boy decided a banana car would be just the thing (as in wheels on a real banana).

Anyway, during one of the races, the soda can Andrew was using as added weight (anything under two pounds is okay) exploded in a spray of pink tropical twister delight. The older boys made up the last minute category of most explosive, and a good time was had by all, especially Andrew, who looked extraordinarily pleased at being singled out.

In other news, earlier that day, he asked me if I’d every heard of an author who writes scary stories and whose last name is King.

Uh, run that name by me one more time. I’m not sure I recognize it.

So we talked about the prolific Mr. King. I said his stories were very scary and Andrew might want to wait a bit. Andrew likes the idea of being scared by stories more than actually being scared by them. So he’s intrigued. One of his friends is reading a Stephen King book. According to Andrew: “He’s on page four and scared already!”

This is also the friend Andrew and another friend are trying to help be a good student by brainwashing.

“How are you doing that?” I asked.

“We stand next to him and shout: ‘You are a good student!’ So far, it’s working!”

A boon to educators everywhere, no doubt.

Daylight Wasting Time

I read once that the best way to cope with a time change (jetlag or whatever) was exercise. Sadly, I believe the writer of the article meant a nice walk in the sunshine, not aerobic weight training at o’dark thirty. I have one word for that:

Y-A-W-N

Things we discovered this weekend:

Andrew can put together his own pinewood derby car. Okay, so we bought the kit with the pre-shaped car. Still, he did it all himself. I just wish the manufacturers would illustrate the box with a car made by an actual eleven year old and not a computer enhanced image by a master craftsman.

The library book we can’t find is called Uh-Oh, confirming that the irony never stops around here.

Andrew has the same exact shoe size as I do, but he won’t let me wear his new skateboarder shoes.

Chocolate pumpkin cupcakes are a big hit.

I found the recipe at Marianne’s. I had to use a bit of water, however. While she said her mixture had a mousse like consistency, mine was like excavated dirt. And I swear to you, I waited until they were completely cool to frost them. Nevertheless, something happened.

Andrew asked me why I spooned pudding all over the cupcakes. I told him it was frosting. He shrugged and said, “Well, it still tastes good.”

And we congratulated ourselves on such a healthy, beta-carotene filled treat.

A conversation that could only happen in our house

 So, last night, the Marvelous Miss B was writing a play based on a picture she drew. She was working to assign everyone roles, who would play the bunny, who would play the squirrel, who would play the chickadee, even who would play the audience.

She couldn’t get Andrew to commit to the role of squirrel and was getting frustrated. At which point, I said:

“Why don’t you storyboard a few more scenes for your play?”

Miss, B, totally unfazed. “Okay.”

So she did. And in case you’re interested in getting your acting career off the ground, we’re still looking for a few good chickadees.

Yawn, stretch, 100×100

 Oh, poor Miss B. She was down with the flu starting Friday. She was well enough to go back to school yesterday. However, thanks to some sleepless nights, I wasn’t in a place where I could string two words together, never mind a blog post.

She is also the sweetest little patient on record. Like there was ever any doubt. All please and thank you, and taking her medicine without compliant, and all Mama, just snuggle with me, that makes me feel better.

But I’m back! You missed me, no?

So, while sleep deprived, I decided to start (or try to start–we’ll see how it goes) a 100×100 challenge at a writing site I frequent. Now, I’ve had mixed feelings about this site; they’ve had their ups and downs. There are a handful of self-style experts handing out questionable advice (no, no, not me, never me).

But then I thought, in pure cheesy movie manner: if you build it, they will come.

So, I thought, well, what would I like to see happen at this site? What could I do to get it going?

On one of the email lists I’m on, they do a 100×100 challenge. That’s 100 words per day for 100 days. It’s a great way to build a writing habit. At the end of 100 days, if you’re consistent, you’ll have 10,000 words. That’s a decent start to a novel, or possibly two short stories, or even twenty pieces of 500-word flash fiction.

The idea is take small, consistent steps, kind of like exercise or any other lifestyle change. For myself, on the days I’m not working on MacKenna, I’ll be adding 100 words to a new short story I’m calling, for the moment, Speechless.

Jonas Brothers concert: That’s just the way we roll

From the “you have been warned” category. My first clue we were in for an all-out love fest?

The rear windshield of a SUV in the parking ramp emblazoned with: Jonas Brothers Bound with a big heart drawn around it.

The love. There was much of it.

The screaming. There was much of that, too.

Somehow I slipped into the parking ramp after the daily rate, but before they jacked up the price to event parking. We found a nice spot for dinner before it got too crowded and had plenty of time for Cold Stone Creamery ice cream afterwards.

So all those little annoying things that can make going to an event so tedious didn’t happen.

We were spooning in ice cream when we spotted The Jonas Brothers tour bus from our perch in the skyway. A new mission was born. The kids decided to brave the cold and have their picture take by the tour bus.

The bus is covered in a fine layer of winter grime, that lovely combination of salt and sand, and who knows what else. In that grime? The names of many, many, many girls, along with *ahem* a few phone numbers. Kyra decided she’d like to write her name on the tour bus. Andrew did not.

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Next stop: The Target Center

We navigated the line, then got in another for T-shirts. Kyra went with pink (you’re surprised, I know) with The Jonas Brothers standing in a frilly heart. I promised one of my nieces a shirt, and Andrew and I debated the merits of each (minus the Future Mrs. Jonas one–nobody in our little circle wanted that).

Shirts bought, we made a restroom stop, then found our seats. We had an awesome view of the stage because for the longest time, no one sat in the seats directly in front of us. Sadly, this only lasted through the opening band.

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Clearly, they’re excited, so excited, Andrew feels the need to take his own pulse

I took a lot of pictures, mainly to figure out if I could get any decent shots and if so, on what setting.

The settings? Not so helpful. There are two separate ones for babies, one for “soft skin portraits” (which sounds a little sketchy to me), and an underwater setting (like I’m taking the damn thing into the lake any time soon).

A concert setting would’ve been really helpful. In the end, I used “simple mode” where the camera decides for you. This is also known as the “you’re too dumb to own a camera” setting.

The opening band, Rooney, was pretty good. They didn’t seem upset that they weren’t the main reason for the concert. This was unlike the time I went to see U2 and Smash Mouth got all bent out of shape because people decided to leave their seats while they played.

During the break between bands, three very tall girls plopped down in front of us.

I looked over at Andrew, then down at Kyra. Sure, Andrew could stand and see the show, but she couldn’t.

But the girl sitting next to me planned on standing/dancing/playing air guitar during the entire concert and offered her seat to Kyra. Unbelievably, in front of me/the girl were two moms, below them, another mom, below her, a dad. This strange phenomenom = adequate view for the petite Miss B.

Now, on to The Jonas Brothers Love:

Oh, the outfits. If someone wasn’t in Jonas Bros. wear prior to entering the arena, they most likely left with some. The styles ranged from the homemade to purchased, and included declarations of devotion and hearts. Lots and lots of hearts.

My favorite were two girls wearing T-shirts with the Jonas Brothers logo (JB) emblazoned on the front like the Superman one. Only this was no last minute glitter glue job. We’re talking serious sequins. They completed the outfit with jeans, Ugg boots, and … wait for it … red satin capes.

Thing of beauty = joy 4-EVAR. I want me a red satin cape.

Kyra and I did wear ear plugs. The music hadn’t even started, just the screaming, when Kyra ducked, held her hands over hear ears, and cried, “Mommy! The ear plugs! The ear plugs!”

And believe me, there was screaming.

They started the concert with Year 3000. More accurately, they played Queen’s We Will Rock You over the sound system right before The Jonas Brothers took the stage. That got everybody wound up. And yes, the teen/tween population knows all the words.

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Just what everyone wants to see: my crappy concert photos

The boys didn’t talk a whole lot. See the part above about all the screaming.  They did mention that just two years ago they were playing the small venue across the street (Seventh Street Entry) and now were packing half-arena shows at the Target Center. For this, they thanked everyone.

And there was much screaming.

They did flips and cartwheels off the different levels of the stage, various dance moves, tossed around the mic stand, and so on. During the first song, one of the boys (and honestly, I always mix them up) threw his hat into the crowd.

Behold, there was much screaming.

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Imagine if there were screaming to go along with this

They asked the parents to stand up and dance during That’s Just The Way We Roll. Most did. Kyra and I held hands and danced. Speaking of Kyra, she spent a short time sitting on my lap, then suddenly hopped off and started dancing like the big girls, waving her arms, and … screaming.

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Again, not the same without the screaming

This lasted for about two thirds of the concert. Then she collapsed in my lap and slept. That’s right. She fell asleep and stayed that way during a rock concert. Clearly she inherited my freakish sleeping ability. It must be genetic. Perhaps I should notify the scientific community.

Other tidbits:

The cell phone is the 21st century version of the Bic lighter. During the slow songs, you flip open your cell, hold it up, and wave your arms back and forth.

The moms in front of me went into a spontaneous 80s flashback and jumped up to dance when The Jonas Brothers did a cover of aha’s Take On Me.

All in all? Good time = had by all. Sure, it’s not like The Jonas Brothers are cutting edge or anything. They play nice pop tunes. But you know, at least it wasn’t My Little Pony All Star rock band (I don’t even know if there is a My Little Pony All Star rock band–I just made that up).

And it wasn’t the latest Disney offering, which is Finding Nemo On Ice.

No. I didn’t make that up. Andrew and I saw the posters and simply gave each other Say what? looks. A story about tropical fish. On ice. The illogic of that might make my head explode.

Really, I need to stop thinking about it.

So, I know Kyra had a good time. I think Andrew did, despite being surrounded by a legion of screaming girls. (“Mommy, why are they screaming? There’s nothing to scream about, the show hasn’t started yet.”) And I had a good time. Talk about a goldmine for a YA writer. Plus, my inner thirteen-year-old had fun too.

Even if she didn’t scream.

Much.

Tattoo you

So, we’re running around, putting dinner on the table, getting homework done, looking at the child of the day stuff Kyra brought home that must go back tomorrow, or else, and we leave for the Boy Scout court of honor in about forty five minutes.

Kyra comes up to me and asks if she can put on one of her temporary tattoos. I say, sure, and because she’s self-sufficient (at least when it comes to temporary tattoos), off she goes. I thought nothing of it. She’s wearing a princess one (big surprise) on her forearm right now.

 A minute later, she emerges from the bathroom, damp wash cloth pressed to her cheek. Yes, that’s right, she decided to apply the temporary tattoo to her face. Right before the court of honor.

I forestall the crumpling to the floor and sobbing by laughing.

Pinkalicious cupcakes

So, yesterday I watched the temperature drop all day long. When Kyra and went to ballet, it was a balmy 23 degrees. When, at long last, I picked her up from the princess birthday party (screaming contest = good time had by everyone under seven), it was about five degrees.

I figured doing all the errands yesterday would be a wise choice, since so far today, the “high” temperature is -5.

Today, in honor of the upcoming Valentine’s Day holiday, we make pinkalicious cupcakes. And I know you all are dying for the recipe. Use 1 teaspoon of red food coloring in your “funfetti” cake mix. Now you know my secret.

So I was adding said red food coloring to the cake mix and warning the kids to be careful, since it stains like nobody’s business. I am now the proud owner of several red fingers. But then, you foodies saw that coming, right?

While we went pink, it was vanilla all the way. No heinous fake strawberry flavor for either the cake or the frosting. And we did not “Plus it up” per recommendation on the box and create “our own colorful, fruity frosting by mixing a package of any flavor unsweetened drink mix into the frosting.”

I don’t even want to contemplate that.

Pictures below the cut.

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The great fish project

So, the other day Bob calls me and says the words that strike fear in the hearts of women everywhere:

Craigslist + $25.00 + surprise

The back story on this is Kyra is learning about fish at school. At some point, Kyra convinced Bob that she needed fish. This also coincided nicely with the Imagination Fair coming up at school. And so, the great fish project was born. Oh, and that $25.00 and surprise? A very nice ten gallon hexagonal fish tank.

True, at first, Kyra thought she might like to do a project on bears (I think she had visions of me and her tramping through the woods and snapping pictures of them), but this is the only year Andrew and Kyra can do a project together. Next year, we’ll photograph bears in the wild. In February. Yeah. That’ll work.

We set up the tank last week and introduced our tester fish, a zebra-striped danios, to it. His name is Marty, either after Marty the Zebra in Madagascar or Marty McFly (you pick).

And because our system is so new, we can only introduce a fish a week (and even then, hope for the best). Today, Kyra picked out a day-glo star fire danios named Cookie. Let’s hope Cookie still swims (rather than sleeps) with the fishes tomorrow. In the meantime, pictures below the cut.

Continue reading “The great fish project”