Tag-Archive for » All riled up! «

I really do not like to leave the house in the evening, particularly when it is just the kids and me.  Even if we managed to have a dinner where everything went rather well, and only a small portion of food landed on the floor, that in no way means venturing out into the world is a good idea.

Read more on Eventful Sporting…

Call me crazy (most do I suspect) but I end up talking to the nicest people on the phone.  Even when I was in college, I had a very long conversation with a woman trying to get me to switch phone companies.  I was dodging an English assignment, and she was dodging cold calling more people.  We ended up talking for nearly an hour about everything BUT the best long distance carrier.

Read more on Honey or Vinegar?…

There should be a support group for mothers of picky eaters.  Heck, maybe there is.  They probably meet at a fast food joint with a play area and bemoan how their child will eat that processed dreck and turn up their nose at food that actually contains something besides fat and sodium.  I just avoid those play areas because it means my kids will ooze green mucus for six weeks straight.

Read more on The Hungry Game…

There are several levels of clean to be achieved.  They all seem to depend on exactly who is walking through your door.  Immediate family?  Not a problem.  People who have small children and understand your plight, therefore won’t pull out white gloves?  Again, not so bad.  However, there is a fine line between “company we don’t see that often” and “Child Protective Services” clean.  Really, there is nothing like having certain folks come across the threshold that makes all the clutter and grime just jump in your face and scream SLACKER!  Never you mind it was all livable and quite honestly, invisible to your eyes, until they showed up.

Read more on Company Clean…

The witching hours are fraught with peril, are they not?  I used to laugh when I would see the phrase “witching hour”.  Singular?  Seriously?  The period from after school until bedtime had the potential to turn me into the parental equivalent of Jack Torrance in The Shining: feeling trapped and more than a little crazy.

Read more on Terribly Wrong…