Absent

Any time I fall off the map, drop in a hole, disappear from life, you can be sure one thing has happened:  sports have taken over my life!!

Currently . . .

#1 - Volleyball spring training has begun, along with fall game scheduling:

#2 - Football spring training and flag teams have begun:

#3 - Soccer has had tryouts and the spring season is underway:

#4 - Basketball just wrapped up state and national tournaments:

Okay . . . so none of our players were invited to the McDonald's All-American, but it's a fun thought!

I am slowly emerging from stacks of registration forms, background checks, receipts, and pre-season apparel orders.

For those who wonder . . . yes, the children have been taught, meals have been served, clothes have been washed.  The state of my kitchen, rec room, and bathrooms are another matter entirely.

Not A Good Way To Start The Year

No one should have to start the New Year mad!

Even less should one have to start the year mad at their dog . . . you know man's best friend and all that stuff.

But that is exactly what happened in this household.  The details are a little sketchy.  After all, the dogs still aren't talking about it much.  But this is what fell out, the best I can deduce.

White Dog and Brown Dog were left home alone on New Year's Eve.  This made Brown Dog decidedly grumpy and started off the evening on a bad note.  To make matters worse, fireworks began to go off in the neighborhood and Brown Dog found himself nervous, disturbed, and feeling very, very alone.

 

About this time, Brown Dog spied something he had not yet noticed in all the holiday festivities.  Down under the Christmas tree was a large, soft, white flannel sheet, used as a tree skirt.  It looked very, very comforting . . . for a dog who is nervous, disturbed and feeling very, very alone.

Brown Dog began eyeing the sheet.  White Dog smelled trouble and warned Brown Dog to mind his own business, be content with his cast-off quilt, stick his paw pads in his ears, and be a good dog, which of course only encouraged Brown Dog all the more to have . . . that . . . soft . . . sheet.The fact that Brown Dog was on his leash, which was attached to a pillar two feet from the tree mattered to him not in the least.  In fact, it served only to heighten the challenge of having . . . that . . . soft . . . sheet.

And, so he pulled, he tugged, he threw his body at the tree, he twisted, he jumped.  And by gum he got that sheet.

White Dog, meanwhile hid his head under his own well-worn, cast-off comforter, put his paw pads in his ears, hummed loudly and said, "I don't see what you're doing.  I can't see a thing.  I know nothing that's going on."

That is how it came to be that as the 7 of us walked in to the house, bleary-eyed, in the wee hours of New Year's morning, we found the tree, rotated 90 degrees, bottom 2 rows of expensive artificial tree foliage bent to the ground, a veritable shower of artificial tree "needles" on the floor, ornaments scattered about . . .

. . . and a very sentimental, hand-crafted, 25 year-old ornament smashed on the floor. 

Have I mentioned that no one should have to start out the New Year mad?

After a cup of tea, my emotions were back in check, I had decided that Brown Dog could live in safety for another year, and I was beginning to believe that 2011 might actually turn out to be quite a satisfactory year.

It was at this point that Youngest Son approached me tentatively, eyes wide, gesturing in the general direction of the dining room table, mouth moving but no syllables coming out.

Yes.  Vintage glass ornament.  Part of a set from the 1930s.  Handled with care by my German grandmother for years and then passed down to me.  Smashed.

Children don't understand these things.  It's round.  It must therefore be a ball.

If things don't turn around quickly here, I'll be the one in bed, covers over my head, waiting for 2012.

Have I mentioned that no one should have to start out the year mad?

Time for more tea.

A Childhood Fantasy Bites the Dust

As a child, I always had a fantasy.  I wanted to know what it would feel like to chew an entire pack of gum.  I loved gum, and I couldn't imagine the joy of having your whole mouth stuffed with it. 
And I'm not talking about a little Doublemint 5-piece pack.  No.  One of the big 15-piece packs.  At the time I believe I was about 5th grade, and the most I ever managed to stuff in was 3 pieces.  I could never bear to waste a whole pack of gum in one massive chewing.
I have now lived my dream.

This morning, 1 1/2 hours before school, Youngest Son came to me, looking pale and drawn.  It seems he had forgotten to do his science experiment for the week.  Science is his difficult class.  He did not need a "zero."  The science experiment entailed weighing a package of unwrapped gum, chewing it for 10 minutes and then reweighing, and figuring weight differences, ratios of gum to fillers, and percentage of ingestible gum portions. 
At this point you are of course thinking, "Ha, give the child the gum and have him quickly perform the science experiment." 
And at this point, you would be wrong.  Because what you don't know is that Youngest Son is now in braces and has had the worst problem with his wires coming out.
A quick survey of all available children showed that not one person was willing to chew an entire pack of gum at 7:30 in the morning to help out a sibling who had not done his homework.
You know who that left.  Me.  And my childhood fantasy.
I'll hasten to add that the experiment required the chewing of 2 entire packs of gum (one pack at a time), one sugared and one non.  And then the teacher slyly added that any child who did a third pack would receive a PRIZE!
I ran to the store.  I grabbed 2 packs of gum . . . one sugared, one non.  And then, unable to help myself, I grabbed a 3rd.  You know . . . the word "prize."
Let me just say that childhood fantasies leave a lot to be desired.  Can you even imagine chewing, with cheeks distended, an entire pack of gum for 10 minutes?  Can you imagine gulping mouthful after mouthful of sticky, sweet, chemical-enhanced saliva.  I'm sorry.  I had to say it.
I chewed for a solid 30 minutes . . . 3 packs of gum . . . 15 sticks in each pack . . . 10 minutes each . . . Juicy Fruit, Orbit Bubblemint, Trident Wild Strawberry and Tangy Citrus.  I have seldom felt so ill.
Amazingly, we found out that when weighed after chewing, gum loses almost exactly 1/2 of it's original weight.  That means I actually ingested a full pack and a half of gum.
Youngest Son skittered out the door . . . apologetic, thankful, happy.  And I sat down at the table to apologize to my digestive system and to eat frozen blueberries and Greek yogurt and try to forget the last 30 minutes. 

And to grieve the loss of a childhood fantasy.

A Note to My Dinner Guests

To My Dinner Guests:

I know you live in a calm and peaceful home. I know you were alarmed when havoc broke out while we were cheerfully discussing family history around the dinner table.

I know the two of you do not ever over stuff a toilet with toilet paper. I know you were surprised to find that not only can our toilets be stuffed with toilet paper, they can also overflow for quite a long period without anyone in the household being aware of such.

I know your dinner conversations usually revolve around traveling to interesting places, home renovations, and orderly schedules. I know you do not generally have someone say, "Is it raining?" while sitting at the dinner table and then walk into the kitchen to find raw sewage dripping down into the kitchen . . . and the hallway . . . and through light fixtures.

I know if you were ever to have a flooding toilet disaster you would sensibly reach for dishpans, buckets, and plastic storage bins. I know you would not reach for pasta pots, large salad bowls, stir fry pans, or mixing bowls.

I know you were probably alarmed to see me do exactly that . . . to catch the mess . . . cascading down . . . into my kitchen.

So, lest you refuse to ever come over again, I must tell you.

My nice beach towels have been laundered on hot with extra detergent. The wood floor has been disinfected. And every one of my pans, pots and large bowls have been thoroughly washed in soapy water and bleach.

You wouldn't let a little thing like this scare you away . . . right??