Friday, September 26

Buy the book
Last evening, I took Doodle to the library to return our week's batch of movies, including the heinous, disturbing film "The Brave Little Toaster." The parking lot was packed. Unusual for a Thursday night.

When we got up to the children's room, I noticed some activity in the adjacent meeting room ... a book sale!

I should explain that one of my many quirks is that I love to own my books. I love libraries, don't get me wrong, but there's something about knowing that my favorite reads are stacked away on my shelf for safekeeping that just does it for me. I do love indulging at Borders, but even better is amazon. I can't be trusted online! Used books! For cheap! It's a dream come true.

So when I saw the book sale beckoning, resistance was futile. Too bad my child couldn't be contained. I could have stayed there for an hour, browsing the titles. I did, however, manage to pick up some VHS videos (yes, we still have a VCR, along with a DVD player) for a dollar apiece, including the much-loved "Toy Story" and some other Disney titles. When I paid ($5 for my bounty) I learned that Saturday is a megasale where you can fill a bag for $3.

I'll admit, I can't stop thinking about it. It's just such an exciting prospect for me to come home with a SACK of books for that little amount of money. I was thinking that I'd just load up with a bunch of random stuff, like a grab bag, and then read everything regardless of what it is.

I'm going back. Without the child. Try and stop me!

Thursday, September 25

I wish
Doodle wanted to say up for a few extra minutes and watch TV with me. I've pretty much eliminated all the shows off the DVR that are watchable with Doodle. There's "Heroes" (too violent, weird), "Entourage" (too many f-bombs, nudity), "True Blood" (too vampirey). Right now the only show that I have DVR'ed that we can watch with Doodle in the room is "Project Runway." I'm several episodes behind on this show, so the one I punched up last night opened with Chris March parading onto the runway in full, towering drag ... that, too, got turned off.

So I happened to have recorded an episode of "Austin City Limits" featuring John Mayer. I decided that was ok to watch, despite the fact that my husband was also in the room and he was probably suppressing the urge to throw a boot through the television. I believe he is of the mind that Real Men Don't Like John Mayer, and his point probably has some validity.

Not helping this was the fact that Doodle kept saying, "That's John Mayer, mommy? Is that your boy?"
"Yeah, he's my boy," I said, shooting a sideways glance at my irked spouse.
"Can we see him?"
"We're seeing him right now, on the TV."
"I want him to come to my house."
"Me too."

Wednesday, September 24

So money and he doesn't even know
Last night, I got called on the carpet for being cheap.

Doodle has picked up on the concept that in order for us to buy him stuff he wants, like toy cars, we need to have money. In his mind, getting more money is as simple as going to the money store and getting some. And then of course, instead of spending this money on things like car payments and mortgages and groceries, we would naturally spend it all on toy cars, and maybe the occasional Thomas train.

Lately, Doodle has been giving us a hard time about listening. He's a stubborn little Dickens, and wields his power like any good tyrant would. Particular sticking points include using the potty at home (he stays dry all day at school, but doesn't seem to mind sitting around in a soaking wet Pull-Up at home), and cleaning up his toys when he's done.

I got the brilliant idea that I would bribe my child with money to get him to clean up. I haven't stooped to bribing him to pee on the toilet... yet ... it just seems too messed up to pay someone for their bodily excretions. ANYHOO, when I told Doodle this plan last night, playtime was over, then and there. Money is the great motivator. Toys were put away, lined up, a stray snack bowl was put in the dishwasher, all while my husband and I sat on the couch in amazement, not lifting a finger.

When Doodle finished, we went and got his piggy bank. I opened my wallet and grabbed some random coins. It happened to be three pennies and a dime. "Here's four monies," I said to him. I mean, the child doesn't know denominations. My husband, however, calculated that this clean-up work had earned Doodle all of 13 cents and protested. "Give the child a quarter for god's sake!"

"He's THREE!" I screeched back.

So cheap old mom had to go back into her wallet and deposit a nice, shiny quarter into Doodle's car fund.

Monday, September 15

Ike, Ike baby
I live nowhere near a hurricane-producing coast. The worst Lake Erie does is throw several wollops of lake effect snow on my commute to and from work a few times during the winter months.

But regardless, Ike snuck up north and bitchslapped northeast Ohio yesterday.

We were fortunate not to lose power at home, but my inlaws and many friends were not so lucky. While I was at my inlaws' house for dinner last night, a large tree fell and took out their entire deck and tore down power lines. The tree missed their house by a couple of feet. And luckier still -- no one was outside when it happened. During nicer weather, we spent much of the evenings on the deck. Had the tree fallen when we were outside, there would have been nowhere to run.

I've never been one for storms. Some people like to watch lightning crack across the sky; my instinct is to cover my entire body in darkness so the flashes won't reach me. When I was little, I used to have an emergency bag of my favorite toys near me all the time in case there was a tornado so I could take it with me to the basement. I think only once did I ever have to take cover with this bag in tow.

This was, by far, the most eerie storm I've ever experienced. Never in my life have I been so afraid of WIND. I've never felt so vulnerable than when the snap of that tree sent my family into turmoil. Every gust of wind after that made me want to grab my child and burrow underground somewhere until it was all over.

And that was just here, in Ohio.

My heart goes out to the people who experienced the full brunt of this storm.

Friday, September 5

Wicked game
Here's the new game played ad nauseum in Sketch Factor central.

Doodle: (points to one of us) You're Buzz Lightyear. I'm Zurg. (Buzz's evil nemesis)

Whoever gets picked to be Buzz Lighyear: *shoots imaginary lasers at Zurg any number of times between 1-20)*

Doodle/Zurg: *shows no signs of taking damage from any of the laser fire and takes ONE shot at Buzz*

Buzz: *man down*

Doodle/Zurg: *cackles evilly*

A variation of this game is "You're Captain; I'm crocodile."
In this game, Captain Hook, usually played by my husband, is able to occasionally "hook" the crocodile, whose sole mission in life is to eat Captain Hook. The croc promptly disables the hook. The Captain's trusty underling, Smee, now played by yours truly, has to fashion a new hook for the Captain.