My mind works in funny ways. I have a big mouth (me??? noooo...who are you talking about??). I sometimes say things I should not. Who doesn't? Tuesday I did not feel too good and told Scott I didn't want dinner but when I got home I'd cook for everyone else. Scott, being the great hubby that he is, told me not to bother, that he'd get the kids and pick up dinner. He came home with dinner (and flowers for me - for no reason!) and the kids. They got dinner from a place in PC (which I will not name, to protect the probably-guilty parties). When he told me which waitress was working, I commented "Oh I bet she'll be playing 'hide the sausage' later with ..." I can't tell you the owner's name because then you'll know where I mean if you live in PC. Ha ha. So then Francesca, who was sitting next to me, says
"Hide the sausage! Hide the sausage? Is that a new kid's game that you play? I've never heard of it. How do you play it?"
I almost choked on my food, as did Scott. If looks could kill, I wouldn't be typing right now. We explained to Francesca that it was not a game and Mommy was just talking about something that people who work in restaurants do...umm not the best explanation but whatever. She did not mention it again thankfully. I really have to watch what I say. Those little ears are always listening!!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
R.I.P. Fish
If you are a follower of my blog, you'll remember the fish incident we had over Christmas break. Never again will we volunteer to host the class fish over school break as we almost killed the one we were watching. We blame all that on Picky Picky, she likes seafood and was looking for a snack.
Anway, Gavin attended a birthday party last week where the "take-home gift" (goody bag kind of thing) was GOLDFISH. OMG I was really hoping Gavin would not see this but of course he did and had to get on line to get one (or two in our case; guess he smiled real nice at the kid's mom and she gave him an extra). So we go home with 2 little fish in a Ziploc container. Scott was oh-so-thrilled when we got home. Francesca was ecstatic, as were the cats! SNACKS, they said! We kept the fish in the plastic container overnight and went to PETCO in the morning to get them a real home.
We came home with a simple tank, some rocks and a lighthouse for the inside. Mommy put the kibbosh on anything too fancy, "because fish die" I said. Wow was that ever prophetic! Scott assimiliated the fish into their new home and all was well...for the next 6 days that is.
Fast forward to last Friday night. We all come home from work/school and the fish are fine. We went out to dinner and then to Kohl's (Mommy needed a new outfit). Got home, walk upstairs and Gavin goes into his room and turns on the light.
"Daddy, COME IN HERE NOW!!! DADDY!!"
One fish had sunk to the bottom of the tank. Uh-Oh...Scott scoops the fish out, shows it to Gavin and says "Gav it's dead. The fish died".
Oh my I have never seen a more heart-breaking and pathetic scene. Scott explained to Gavin and Francesca that when he was younger he would flush his fish down the toilet when they died. Scott had alot of fish over the years, he's an expert on fish. Gavin literally hit the floor in the bathroom, started to sob and covered his eyes with his hands. Francesca started pacing and crying herself. It took everything we had to say goodbye, flush the fish, get the kids into their pj's and calm them down. We thought that it might be nice to all get into mommy and daddy's bed and snuggle. So there we are, in bed, and Gav says
"Mommy, could you please 'say something' about Fish #1?? We need to pray...'In the name of the Father...' "
Oh my, I almost could not get through the "Fish Eulogy" without laughing. Tears were streaming from my face, and not because I was upset. I talked about how Fish #1 was a faithful pet for the 6 days that we had him/her and that him/her enjoyed swimming in the beautiful tank with his/her friend Fish #2. We finally got them into bed and to sleep. We went to bed. The next morning I was woken up before my alarm went off. Why, you ask?
"DADDY!!! MOMMY!!! It happened again!!! Fish #2 is DEAD!!!!"
More tears. More flushing. Tee ball followed by a trip to PETCO to buy 3 more replacement fish. Scott washed out the tank. Fast-forward to Tuesday. 2 of the replacements went belly-up. Literally. One bigger, stronger (we hope) fish remains. Gav is taking all this fish death in stride. He tells us every morning "The fish is alive! It made it throw the night!!"
Anway, Gavin attended a birthday party last week where the "take-home gift" (goody bag kind of thing) was GOLDFISH. OMG I was really hoping Gavin would not see this but of course he did and had to get on line to get one (or two in our case; guess he smiled real nice at the kid's mom and she gave him an extra). So we go home with 2 little fish in a Ziploc container. Scott was oh-so-thrilled when we got home. Francesca was ecstatic, as were the cats! SNACKS, they said! We kept the fish in the plastic container overnight and went to PETCO in the morning to get them a real home.
We came home with a simple tank, some rocks and a lighthouse for the inside. Mommy put the kibbosh on anything too fancy, "because fish die" I said. Wow was that ever prophetic! Scott assimiliated the fish into their new home and all was well...for the next 6 days that is.
Fast forward to last Friday night. We all come home from work/school and the fish are fine. We went out to dinner and then to Kohl's (Mommy needed a new outfit). Got home, walk upstairs and Gavin goes into his room and turns on the light.
"Daddy, COME IN HERE NOW!!! DADDY!!"
One fish had sunk to the bottom of the tank. Uh-Oh...Scott scoops the fish out, shows it to Gavin and says "Gav it's dead. The fish died".
Oh my I have never seen a more heart-breaking and pathetic scene. Scott explained to Gavin and Francesca that when he was younger he would flush his fish down the toilet when they died. Scott had alot of fish over the years, he's an expert on fish. Gavin literally hit the floor in the bathroom, started to sob and covered his eyes with his hands. Francesca started pacing and crying herself. It took everything we had to say goodbye, flush the fish, get the kids into their pj's and calm them down. We thought that it might be nice to all get into mommy and daddy's bed and snuggle. So there we are, in bed, and Gav says
"Mommy, could you please 'say something' about Fish #1?? We need to pray...'In the name of the Father...' "
Oh my, I almost could not get through the "Fish Eulogy" without laughing. Tears were streaming from my face, and not because I was upset. I talked about how Fish #1 was a faithful pet for the 6 days that we had him/her and that him/her enjoyed swimming in the beautiful tank with his/her friend Fish #2. We finally got them into bed and to sleep. We went to bed. The next morning I was woken up before my alarm went off. Why, you ask?
"DADDY!!! MOMMY!!! It happened again!!! Fish #2 is DEAD!!!!"
More tears. More flushing. Tee ball followed by a trip to PETCO to buy 3 more replacement fish. Scott washed out the tank. Fast-forward to Tuesday. 2 of the replacements went belly-up. Literally. One bigger, stronger (we hope) fish remains. Gav is taking all this fish death in stride. He tells us every morning "The fish is alive! It made it throw the night!!"
TOOTS!!!!
Toots is our new kitten. I will post pix but right now I'm at work and have no pictures to post. She is a mini version of Picky-Picky, our 10 year old fat cat. Well she looks fat now next to Toots, who is only 9 weeks old. We went back and forth over what to name this new addition to our family. I liked "Toontses", like the driving cat on Saturday Night Live, and "Pippa". The kids liked Toots, as did Scott. So Toots it is. The first night though, Gav called her "FiFi" because he "did not want to name the cat something that comes out of him every day". I kid you not. But she is Toots now. Toots is very jumpy - she jumps on us, on furniture, on poor Picky-Picky. Gavin is sort of afraid of her; whenever she is around he yells "TOOOOOOTS" and we know he is crounched in a corner or on a table far out of her reach. He also yells "CAT FIGHT" when the two cats start wrestling. It's all good, she is a cute little thing and we love her.
The World According to Gavin
A few mornings ago, Gavin was being a good little boy and washing his face/brushing his teeth, without me or Scott having to covince him to do so. I looked at him and said, "Gavin, how did Mommy and Daddy end up with such a cute blond-haired, blue-eyed boy?" to which he replied
"Well Mommy didn't you just ask God for a blond-haired, blue-eyed boy?"
OMG, so cute he is! I cannot stand the cuteness.
"No Gav, I just asked him for a healthy baby, and we got you".
"Hmmm, Mommy...don't you think you should be able to request what you want? He should take requests."
The Gospel According to Gavin :)
"Well Mommy didn't you just ask God for a blond-haired, blue-eyed boy?"
OMG, so cute he is! I cannot stand the cuteness.
"No Gav, I just asked him for a healthy baby, and we got you".
"Hmmm, Mommy...don't you think you should be able to request what you want? He should take requests."
The Gospel According to Gavin :)
I am a sucky blogger!
Enough of the apologies on my part, I just need to blog more consistently. Funny things have happened at the LaDore house, many in the past week, and Scott shoots me a look and says "That's blog-worthy"...yeah yeah yeah. So again, my apologies, those who actually read my blog (don't think it's many of you) and here goes...
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Wow...I'm back!!
Yikes it's been almost 3 months since I have last posted!! And boy have we been busy! School, vacation to Disney World, lost teeth, tee ball, stomach bugs, birthday parties...But here I am, back at the blog. My husband, mother-in-law and sister-in-law will be happy to see a new post. Every now and again they sneak in a comment about my blogging absence; like Scott, who said "Gee Dineen that's blog-worthy...if you even blog anymore...". So I am back. We just started tee ball again, and that means many a blog-worthy story will be coming your way via this blog.
It's almost the end of the school year and I am happy to report that Gavin is loving kindergarten and Francesca is loving the first grade. Neither child can seem to keep their mouth shut (they are their mother's children after all), hence we have gotten a few notes home alluding to the fact that both kids like to chat. Oh well, in the grand scheme of things there are WAY worse things they could do while at school...
One of these days I will post the Disney World pix. We have some great ones of Francesca with the characters, and Gavin trying to hide from the characters. In fact, Gavin enjoyed the character breakfast while hiding under the table, eating a bowl of canteloupe. He actually asked to go back to Chef Mickey's the next time we visit Disney, not to see the characters but to eat at what he thought was an amazing breakfast buffet!
Well that's it for now. I am sure that I will have SOMETHING to blog about soon. I'll keep you posted. I promise.
It's almost the end of the school year and I am happy to report that Gavin is loving kindergarten and Francesca is loving the first grade. Neither child can seem to keep their mouth shut (they are their mother's children after all), hence we have gotten a few notes home alluding to the fact that both kids like to chat. Oh well, in the grand scheme of things there are WAY worse things they could do while at school...
One of these days I will post the Disney World pix. We have some great ones of Francesca with the characters, and Gavin trying to hide from the characters. In fact, Gavin enjoyed the character breakfast while hiding under the table, eating a bowl of canteloupe. He actually asked to go back to Chef Mickey's the next time we visit Disney, not to see the characters but to eat at what he thought was an amazing breakfast buffet!
Well that's it for now. I am sure that I will have SOMETHING to blog about soon. I'll keep you posted. I promise.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Fishy...very Fishy...
So Francesca volunteered us to be a "host family" for Lolly, one of her class's Japanese Fighting Fish, over the holiday break. We were not sure how this was going to go, being we have Picky-Picky (our cat). For the most part everything went smoothly. Picky even slept a few nights in Francesca's room, where Lolly had taken up residence as well. Until Sunday. Sunday afternoon, we were hanging around the house, getting ready to go to a friend's for a few hours. I heard something upstairs fall, but did not think much of it. Francesca tends to pile her toys up in piles and one or more things usually falls over. Fast forward a few hours now...
We are back home and Scott is painting the front door. (It's now midnight blue - it was poopy brown. I love it now. Oh and Scott if you are reading this I think it needs a 3rd coat, but let me get back to the fish story). Scott happens to look at me and say "Babe is Francesca's door open?". We had been keeping the door shut the whole time the fish was vacationing at 62 Wesley. No reason to tempt the cat. OH MY GOD, I think. I RUN upstairs and look on F's dresser. NO FISH BOWL. I look on the floor. There it is...the bowl turned over, the top off, and the fish barely swimming in about 2 inches of water. HOLY CRAP I think. We killed the fish! How is my daughter going to show her face at school tomorrow? Wait, our silly little town has both PETCO and Pet Smart (we don't have a friggin' bookstore but we have 2 pet stores...I digress); if we killed it odds are Scott can find a replacement. I scoop up the fish in the top of the container and the bowl part and run into the bathroom. I dump the fish back in the bowl and add water, all the while screaming OH MY GOD OH MY GOD SCOTT GET UP HERE NOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW! He comes racing upstairs, paintbrush in hand, followed by Francesca, who quickly realizes what has gone down. She is now pacing and yelling BAD CAT BAD CAT at Picky Picky, who prances by the bathroom with a smirk on her face. Scott shooes us out of the bathroom, telling us that all this yelling is stressing the fish out and I stressed it more by adding cold water to the bowl. Oh thank goodness my husband had many a fish in his younger days.
A few minutes later Scott comes out of the bathroom, fish bowl in hand. Gavin has now joined us upstairs and thinks the whole situation is hysterical. Thankfully Lolly is breathing and has a heartbeat. Scott tells us that he shocked it back to life by connecting 2 wires to a 9-volt battery and shocking it, plus he did fishy CPR. He is such a smart-ass sometimes...So we shut Lolly back in F's bedroom, lights low, door shut! Damn Picky sat outside Francesca's bedroom, waiting for her chance to pounce again. I could not wait until Monday morning so Scott could return the fish safely to Francesca's classroom. We already told Francesca (and Gavin) NO MORE CLASS PETS VISITING OUR HOUSE. That's all I'd need, to be known as the family who killed the class pet. We'd have to move...
We are back home and Scott is painting the front door. (It's now midnight blue - it was poopy brown. I love it now. Oh and Scott if you are reading this I think it needs a 3rd coat, but let me get back to the fish story). Scott happens to look at me and say "Babe is Francesca's door open?". We had been keeping the door shut the whole time the fish was vacationing at 62 Wesley. No reason to tempt the cat. OH MY GOD, I think. I RUN upstairs and look on F's dresser. NO FISH BOWL. I look on the floor. There it is...the bowl turned over, the top off, and the fish barely swimming in about 2 inches of water. HOLY CRAP I think. We killed the fish! How is my daughter going to show her face at school tomorrow? Wait, our silly little town has both PETCO and Pet Smart (we don't have a friggin' bookstore but we have 2 pet stores...I digress); if we killed it odds are Scott can find a replacement. I scoop up the fish in the top of the container and the bowl part and run into the bathroom. I dump the fish back in the bowl and add water, all the while screaming OH MY GOD OH MY GOD SCOTT GET UP HERE NOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW! He comes racing upstairs, paintbrush in hand, followed by Francesca, who quickly realizes what has gone down. She is now pacing and yelling BAD CAT BAD CAT at Picky Picky, who prances by the bathroom with a smirk on her face. Scott shooes us out of the bathroom, telling us that all this yelling is stressing the fish out and I stressed it more by adding cold water to the bowl. Oh thank goodness my husband had many a fish in his younger days.
A few minutes later Scott comes out of the bathroom, fish bowl in hand. Gavin has now joined us upstairs and thinks the whole situation is hysterical. Thankfully Lolly is breathing and has a heartbeat. Scott tells us that he shocked it back to life by connecting 2 wires to a 9-volt battery and shocking it, plus he did fishy CPR. He is such a smart-ass sometimes...So we shut Lolly back in F's bedroom, lights low, door shut! Damn Picky sat outside Francesca's bedroom, waiting for her chance to pounce again. I could not wait until Monday morning so Scott could return the fish safely to Francesca's classroom. We already told Francesca (and Gavin) NO MORE CLASS PETS VISITING OUR HOUSE. That's all I'd need, to be known as the family who killed the class pet. We'd have to move...
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