wallpaper removal, day three

sartre said, "hell is other people."

i say, "hell is stripping wallpaper."

wallpaper removal, day two

i'd like to believe that the person who invented wallpaper is in hell right now.

stripping wallpaper.

a family of strippers

my mom is in town, so what kinds of exciting activities are we engaging in? shopping? dining out?

no, we're stripping wallpaper. lots and lots of wallpaper.

because that's the kind of fun, sexy people we are.

why do you hate the baby? installment no. 476 - reality check

that's the kid's name:  reality.

march madness

thing two is sick. again.

i am sick. again.

my friends' kids are sick. again.

my in-laws (aka the babysitters) are sick. again.

i hate march. again.

still with the haiku

oh no, not again.

my children hand off illness

like a race baton.

mother of the year, that's me

i taught thing one how to scrape the oreo filling off the cookie part with her teeth. she is thrilled with her new skillz.

i am ready to be measured for my sash and tiara now.

the flashing lights! the swirly colors! the 7-foot-tall skating rodents!

bad lsd trip? no, disney on ice!

probably about the same amount of long-term brain damage, though.

must lie down in quiet, dark room.

(many thanks to andrea and henry for inviting us to be their guests - the girls absolutely loved it.)

idiots

people, no one is more eager for spring than moi. but i think you're pushing it just a tad, perhaps out of hope, perhaps because some of your higher functioning circuits have frozen.

so let me help you out. it is too cold to wear shorts if:

• you wear your knee-length down coat over them.
  
• you stop during your jog to make a snowball.
  
• you live anywhere in minnesota.

there. go put on some long underwear and wait it out, just like the rest of us.

weirdos

it's saturday morning, so my people are glued to the tv, of course.

are they watching clifford the big red dog? sesame street? curious george?

of course not. they're watching cooking shows again. today they're learning how to make lemon-herb chicken, roasted tomatoes, and cream cheese brownies.

weirdos.

(the pear and red wine sorbet was really delicious, though.)

and a postscript on sunday:  today, thing one watched the pbs pledge drive. now that's a testament to the power of the glowing box.

and now, another haiku

hacking, yakking coughs,

icky, sticky, thicky phlegm.

i am sick of sick.

and a-one, and a-two

even a classic can stand updating some time, right? (remember how well that new coke thing went?) so here are some of the old standard songs, revised for modern mamas and their kidlets:

• what kind of fool am i...to let my kids paint in the house?
  
• don't be cruel...or you're going on time out.
  
• it's now or never...so get in that bathtub.
  
• when fools rush in...they smack their heads on the door frame.
  
• fly me to the moon...or florida.
  
• at last...mr. rogers is on.
  
• ain't misbehavin'...right this second. but wait.
  
• i enjoy being a girl...and showing everyone proof.
  
• singin' in the rain...without a coat, hat, boots or umbrella.
  
• a boy named sue...no, he just has long hair.
  
• he was really sayin' somethin'...but i couldn't hear daddy over the sound of you two fighting.
  
• she's a lady...and yes, i can see that she's fat. shhh!
  

how is this even possible?

i am the only person i know who can gain weight during a stomach bug.

perhaps because the only energy i have expended during the past two days has been in the playing of approximately 5,427 games of go fish, old maid, and crazy eights.

shutting down

ah, march. that time of year when my brain and my body completely disintegrate.

not only do i lose my tiny little mind after nearly half a year of winter, but my carcass shows the strain. dry, bloody nose. finger tips that are cracking open and bleeding. feet that are beyond disgusting.

and now, thing one and i have both come down with some sort of bug that bestows killer headaches, fever, and intestinal...episodes. oh, and she's barfing.

so i've shut the machinery down as best i can, as least as far as our digestive tracts go:  we're both on the saltines-jello-flat sprite meal plan. 

march:  coming in like a lion, as usual. a lion that has eviscerated me and is now feasting on my entrails.

and now, a haiku

hail ibuprofen!

soother of fiery children.

ibu, i love you.