Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Pinterest is Feeding My PVC Pipe Addiction


Check out this sweet creation:


And no, I cannot take credit for it.  Again, this is a pinterest find.  Armed with my pvc pipe cutters (amazing) I finished this project in like 20 minutes.  The rack works really good too.  Even adult bikes.

All the neighbors are jealous of my mad pvc skills.




Open Letter Regarding the PARADE

The 24th of July Parade.  Also known as the "lets-celebrate-the-pioneers-and-simultaneously-rip-everyone else's-head-off-parade."

Dude.  Can I just say how out of hand things have gotten?  Let me begin by saying that I really like parades.  They bring the community together and they showcase (or they're supposed to) the local goings-on.  I LOVE celebrating the armed services.  I love waving and yelling thank you to all the veterans.  I think it is a wonderful teaching opportunity for my kids.  

I just have one problem with the parade: EVERYONE ELSE.

The rules state that you cannot reserve your spot until 7:00am the day of the parade.  When I first read the rules, I thought that it meant you couldn't reserve your space until 7:00am the day of the parade.  Boy, was I wrong.  

Instead, people reserve spaces to reserve their spaces.  So, the prime-time real estate is the park strip, right?  So what everyone does, starting up to 2 days (seriously?) before the parade - they place chairs, blankets, ropes and yes, sometimes even police tape, on the private property located on the other side of the park strip/sidewalk.  Please see my amazing picture.  No, I am not for hire.

After they place their crap on the private property, they happily go home to begin training for the big day.  As early as 5:30am on the big day, they arrive to their spot.  They start hovering.  Nobody dares to step foot on the parkstrip before 7:00am.  Everyone is a little over-tired and crabby.  If a stranger EVEN THINKS ABOUT  encroaching on their space that they have not reserved, but they are actually reserving: watch out.  Certain death will follow.

Take the summer of 2010 for instance.  I woke up at 6:30am on the big day.  Certainly enough time to put on some clothes, grab some shoes and sling a few campchairs over my shoulder while I ride my bike up and around the block to secure a spot for the parade.  WRONG.

Main street looked like Grand Central Station the day before Christmas.  Cars lined the street on either side.  Everyone acted skittish and totally strung out on Pioneer Day euphoria.  One dude looked like he was packing heat and wouldn't be afraid to use it, if necessary.

I biked for about another block and spotted a 2 foot long area on the park strip without any blankets, chairs, etc.  I beelined right for it.  Out of nowhere this random dude stops me and tells me that he was actually just about ready to put his stuff there.  He hadn't gotten to it yet, because he was too busy putting his other 400 chairs out.  I politely told him that I was going to put MY stuff there.  He became angry and rude and finally thew his hands up and walked away while muttering a very impolite string of curses.  

Later that day I took my little family of 4 (Max wasn't around yet) and we watched the parade.  After the hassle of the chairs, I was expecting (hoping?) the parade to be awesome.  Instead, it had over 225 entries, which equates to about 2.5 hours.  Most of the entries were for house cleaning, yard maintenance, pest control, car dealerships, different dance companies, a few karate studios, a couple marching bands, etc.  Oh yeah, don't forget the scary clowns that seemed to be everywhere.

DUDE.  I did not just battle the crazy vulture parade nut jobs to get handed a flyer about the "local" business that will come shovel my dog's poo for $15/week.  Oh wait, yes I did.

The whole way home I told myself that I would NEVER attend another parade.  But then I went back on my word and attended the parade last week.  My nephews were in it and I wanted to support the cause.  Much to my horror - everything wrong with the parade was much, much worse this time around.  Everyone I came across was so rude.  So ready to freak out.  While the total number of entries was much smaller (around 80), it still included so many random businesses and not hardly enough candy.

In my humble opinion, a hometown parade should include the following:

(1) Veterans.  Always veterans.  They are heroes and need to be celebrated.  
(2) The community's emergency response teams.  Fire engines, police on motorcycles, ambulances, etc.
(3) Local high schools.  SBO's.  Marching bands, drum lines, color guard, cheer learders, drill teams, etc.
(4) Local churches.   I love seeing their interpretation of the parade's theme come out in their floats.
(5) Local charities.  Food banks, etc.
(6) A whole bunch of candy being thrown to the little ones.

The key word is local.  The parade needs to celebrate our town.  Our people.  Our accomplishments.  NOT be free advertising.  Kids don't care about it.  Parents don't care about it.  If I needed a great place to get my car washed, I would ask friends/neighbors.  

And the feverish, out of control tempers that are always present while reserving/saving spaces is unbelievable.  We are celebrating our city's heritage, the pioneers that sacrificed so much to settle this land - and here we are ready to choke the person next to us because they put their chairs 3 inches too close to ours?  Give me a break.  Its a little embarrassing really.

I have an idea.  This is going to sound a little crazy - but how about next year actually enforcing the "no reserving spaces" rule?  How about telling people to show up for the parade right before it starts?  Sitting down next to your neighbors and getting to know them better.  Moving back so the little kids have plenty of room to see the floats.  Celebrating our community - not coming home with 75 fliers for random crap.  How about having floats that actually reflect the accomplishments of the community?

The parade wasn't worth hassle and I think that sucks.  I wanted to love it.  I wanted my kids to love it.  Instead, they were shoved around and yelled at by complete strangers.  We're not going back.  Next year, we'll go to the carnival during the parade.  We'll have our pick of the rides and activities.  I will get my Navajo Fry Bread in 4 minutes instead of 40.  We'll have a pleasant family outing that won't involve angry parade spectators.  We will celebrate our pioneers the right way.






Thursday, July 19, 2012

PVC Pipe - its the new boondoggle

Oh yeah buddy.

I found a marshmallow pvc gun on pinterest and decided I absolutely needed to make some.  So I went to Home Depot and picked up some pvc pipe and some pvc pipe cutters.  I don't know who invented the pvc pipe cutters - but they deserve the nobel peace prize.  Those are so much fun to use.  They ratchet while they cut through the plastic.  What more could you ask for?  With that baby in my hand, I feel unstoppable.

Anyway, I made the guns.  And then I bought mini-marshmallows.  Obviously, I did not think this project through from the beginning all the way to the end.  The end being me, picking up 7,000 marshmallows.  Everywhere.  I thought that going outside would be the answer.  No - it just made the marshmallow-picking-up-chore about 4 times longer and 5 times hotter.

I keep reminding myself that its really fun for the kids, and that they are playing together (albeit they are shooting each other, but that counts, right?) and they're not watching tv.  However, if I see one more marshmallow on the ground, I might go postal.

Here is Fisher's modification.  Its actually like 4 guns put together.  And when you get hit in the face with a marshmallow coming from this gun, IT WILL leave a welt on your cheek.  For like a couple of days.  And people WILL look at you like you have a hickey on your cheek.  At church.




Oh, little Max.  Precious little Max.

J's cousin brought his cow roping dummy to J's family reunion last weekend.  I saw it outside and dragged it in, thinking it would be a distraction for Max so I would have 4 consecutive minutes of not insanely running around chasing him.

What I didn't realize was that this cow dummy would prove to be the love of M's life.

He climbed on this thing, hugged it, kissed it on the nose, etc.  He wouldn't leave it alone.  Until the older reunion participants started roping it.

ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.

The first time J's cousin roped it, Max screamed out loud.  The second time - Max not only screamed, but started shaking his fists.  The poor little dude was so upset that people were hurting his buddy.  He sat on my lap and bawled while he watched his friend get roped and pulled all around the room.  Every time the lasso would tighten around the cow's neck - he would just shake and the tears would roll down his cheeks.

It was like 20% heartbreaking and 80% hilarious.

I'm seriously considering making one of these for Max's christmas present.  And since I have officially dubbed myself the queen of PVC pipe projects (more on this in an upcoming post) all I need is some pvc pipe, a blue print and a plastic cowhead.  So, if you know anyone selling a plastic cow head, let me know.

J's uncle accused me of raising a "tree hugger."  I just told him that maybe Max was Hindu in his past life.





Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Circus Lion

We have a new contest at my house.  We call it "Circus Lion."It consists of getting one of those big exercise balls and balancing on top of it, while on all four's.  Hence the "circus lion" reference.  


So far, J can balance for like 35 seconds.  I can barely handle watching him for 35 seconds because it is so funny.

Yesterday, I made the mistake of calling it "Circus Tiger."  J immediately corrected me by telling me that it was "Circus LION!" and that tigers are too prideful to do something like that.  So there you go.

Eater of Poo

This is so gross.  Really - if you're feeling somewhat not able to handle a poo story - move on.

J took the older two downstairs to get them bathed and ready for bed.  I was in charge of M.  I got him naked, put him the tub, knelt down to get things ready, when I realized that his baby soap was in the kitchen.  I left him in the tub (the water was not on, people - relax) while I ran to get the soap.  I was gone for maybe 20 seconds.  When I got back into the bathroom I glanced at M to make sure he was alright.  He was squatting in the empty tub, just playing with his toys.  At this precise moment, I started to smell something akin to rotting corpses.  Upon closer inspection, I came to the horrible realization that M was squatting over a big pile of fresh poo.  I moved as fast as I could -but it wasn't quick enough.

He reached down, grabbed a handful, and put it in his mouth.

I screamed, yelled at him to stop, and then I screamed some more.  I yelled for J to get "upstairs now!"  J came running.  It took him about 30 seconds to survey the scene.  When he saw M chewing something, he immediately understood the gravity of the situation.  By this time, M had stood up and kind of walked around a bit.  So you can imagine the brown-streaked state my tub was in.

J held up M by the armpits while I wiped out the tub with some clorox wipes.  Thank goodness for clorox wipes.  I need to buy stock in that company.  John, decided to do M a favor by wiping out his mouth.  Let it be sufficient enough to say that M's molars were caked with brown matter.  J, likened it to when the back of your tongue gets all red from eating too many red vines.  Except in this case, the back of M's tongue was brown.  Oh, the horror.

We got him cleaned up when it suddenly dawned on me - I usually nurse M before I put him to bed.  I have never wanted to NOT NURSE as bad as that night.  Ugh.

The Blog I Love to Hate

Oh man.  Seriously?  It has seriously been this long since my last post?  I suck at this, people.  I really do.  I put at least 98.9% of the blame on my children.  They consume every waking minute.  The other 1.1% (is my math correct?) I blame on John.  Just because.

Lets see . . . . . . .where did I leave off?  Oh yeah - John going blind.  HELLO.

He is not blind anymore.  His vision has come back to about 80% of normal.  It will not come back any more.  Optic nerve injuries are really hard to recover back to 100%.  However, he's driving and working and still capable of bugging me and the kids - so its all good.

As of right this very minute, he does not have MS.  We have seen a few different neurologists, all of which agree on this - John hasn't had enough neurological symptoms to get an MS diagnosis.  His MRI's also lead us to this conclusion.  We feel very blessed and very fortunate.  Thank you for all the support we've received.

Other News:

Cassidy is smart & beautiful, if I don't say so myself.  She's very sassy and she teases.  A lot.  I wonder who she gets that from . . . . . . . .

Fisher is so much fun.  He has started to robot dance whenever he hears music.  It is amazing.  He still looks like he has 40,000 teeth in his mouth when he smiles.  I love him.

Max is incredible.  In many different ways.  Like a poo-eating way.  More on that later.  Needless to say, he has kept me very busy the last little while.

John's job is great.  He loves it.

My job (as in the queen-of-the-household job) is good too.  Busy, but good.  Between the kids, church, cooking, cleaning, driving - my days are flying by.

My goal is to get this blog all caught up.  I have a lot of funny stories to add.