UP redux

I did it again. I went and saw Pixar's UP again yesterday afternoon with my kids. We had the grandparents meet us there, and Kid 4 sat on Grandpa's lap and gave a play-by-play through the first hour. I finally told him to be quiet (because Grandpa certainly wouldn't).

I started to worry a little about halfway into the show that I had maybe oversold it to the grandparents, even though I was fighting tears (at least 4 times - very, extremely, exceptionally rare for me in a movie). I wondered if my claim that this was Pixar's greatest achievement was maybe a little DQ*.

Turns out, not. They loved it like I did. Grandpa's fave? Fenton's. Hooray for kidhood memories, huh? After the show Kids 3 and 4 acted out favorite scenes from the movie and several "UP-isodes" that Husband has on his iPhone ("Hurry up, Russell. Time's healing this wound.") while I made really yummy peach ice cream. Mmm. Ice cream.**

So, if you haven't seen UP yet, and you get the chance, I'm just saying - see it twice.

*You know, Drama Queen

**Occasionally I channel Homer S.

Mini-Trauma

It's the hair.

Like every other girl who grew up in the 80s, I wanted The Hair. The big, teased, permed, peroxided*, enormous hair. Bangs, feathers, frizz - it was all good.

And I couldn't get it, not really.

I have this really thin, straight hair** that was damaged beyond all reason by nearly a decade of chemical and heat-appliance assistance.

Like many other of my imperfect qualities that I have come to accept***, I'm more okay with my hair these days than I ever have been. It doesn't hurt that the wispy, straight look has been fashionable for a few years.

But I have occasional issues (surprised?) with hair product. For instance: Why does the mousse stop coming out of the bottle all cloudy and soft when it's still three-quarters full? Why, instead, does it land in my hand with a splat like heavy cream? And why, why, do I keep buying hair product that promises "thickening"? Seriously? Do I still, after all these years, believe it? And why, for the love, do I think a product for sale in a grocery store is better than a product sold in a salon? Oh, wait - I know this one. Because cheap = beautiful. Right.

All told, though, I'd rather have some bad hair than none at all. But to those of you who have the step-out-of-the-shower-and-onto-the-runway hair, I hope you know how lucky you are.

*Remember Sun-In? Ack.

**My niece with lots of luscious hair calls mine "paintbrush hair" because of my piddly ponytail.

*** I love being in my 30s!

Posted in Kids' Bathroom

Towels: Boo-hoo, boo-hoo, boo-hoo.

Wonderful Children: Hey, what’s wrong, Towels? Why are you sad?

Towels: We don’t want to live on the floor. We want to go home. (*sniffle*)

Wonderful Children: Oh, don’t worry, Towels. We’ll send you home.

Towels: Thank you, thank you, Wonderful Children. You are so kind.

Happy Birthday, Kid 3!

Little Princess, you are a delight.

You have the strongest personality in this whole houseful of personalities. Your eyes, so beautiful, are full of light and sparkle.

You are not only a school-smartie, but you know things. You have a sensitivity to things unspoken and unspeakable. You understand people, and recognize their motivations. You create and carry out plans - devious and benign - to get the things you want. I pray that this talent stays with you (along with the proper compass, which should keep you out of trouble - and jail).

You love to laugh - sometimes just to hear the sound in your own ears.

Enjoy this extra-special birthday. Laugh it up. Listen to the whispers. Let the lights shine.

I love you.

Long lists

I love long, specific lists of things I need to accomplish. Because I feel so ... accomplished when I've crossed them all off. And I do cross. No subtle check-marking for me. Nice, thick line through the job.*

Today's list is long. I intend to enlist (I can't even think of another word, but why hide my nerdy pun-side?) all the troops to get it all finished. And then, a reward. I will leave them for a few hours of early-evening peace (mine) and they can watch a movie and eat popcorn.

Seems like a very fair arrangement, I have to say.

*I still have to be able to read what it said, though, so I can congratulate myself again and again on all the little things I've managed to do.

Busy Week

This week is a little bit crazy. Not that it's anyone's fault but my own, mind. I'm not blaming circumstance. I could have been well on top of all this work that needs to be done. I just chose to do other things instead. Things like read. And write. And nap in the sun.

So I'm sort of taking a day off today. To normal people this will look like a work day. I've already cleaned out a closet (gag) and re-filed all the sheet music (left over from my mom's musicality - I just had to keep it, you know?). Now I mow the lawn (my favorite chore, really) and supervise the kids' organization of the bookshelves (otherwise I won't be able to find Ms. Austen when I need my fix).

Then some baking - zucchini bread (I shredded and froze extras last year, because my garden this year is a long, long way from production) and some muffins to freeze for Saturday's baptism/brunch/family fiesta.

Then Costco. With four kids. Pray for me.

Then a birthday party at the cousins' house (water slide - not mine - and homemade pizzas - all mine) and then home to fall into bed before tomorrow comes. That's when the basement cleanout begins (pray again, if you please).

I well know that were I a woman of character, this would have been done long ago, and on a regular basis. I love people who work that way. I recognize them. I honor them. But I am not one of them. But by Saturday morning, the house will be clean, including behind those pesky bathroom fixtures, there will be plenty of good food to eat, and maybe (maybe) the weeds will be gone, at least from the front walkway.

Just to be on the safe side, let's all say another little prayer, shall we? Thanks, darlings.

Another Goal Accomplished

Hey, yeah for me. I accomplished a goal today! So, naturally I am sure you want to know all about it.

I jogged 4 miles. That's FOUR MILES in a row. With no stopping. Or walking. Or moaning, weeping, wailing, gnashing teeth, crying or whining.

I don't think I've ever, ever done such a thing before.

So far I'm feeling really fantastic (just a tiny sore, you know, to remind me of the great thing I did) and really, really proud of me.

Just think: If I can write a novel (or three, or four) and jog farther than ever before... what can't I do?*

Hooray for a great day!

*Besides, you know, refrain from thinking snarky comments, or stop laughing at tasteless 80s SNL skits...