I watched Glee a couple of times last year and loved it but I could never seem to remember what night it was on and I was always catching the last 20 minutes of the show. Plus, I have Criminal Minds and Parenthood that I love to watch and I just can't have that many tv shows that I would die to miss because I'm not just sitting around here eating bon bons, right?!
For Christmas this year I got Glee Season 1 on dvd and now I am hooked. I am a full fledged Mr. Shuster loving, Don't Stop Believing singing, crazy Finn and Puck and Rachel fanatic. I don't know if it takes me back to the good ole highschool days (even though I wasn't in show choir and didn't sing about my problems) or if I just love these songs so much and it's fun to sing along while I watch. Perhaps I just love Sue Sylvester, the super sarcastic Cheerios coach and the sayer of so many ridiculously hilarious lines that I can't wait to add to my personal conversations.
Then I discovered Glee on Pandora. Hallelujah! Now I can make dinner, unload the dishwasher and put away groceries all while rocking it out to Jessie's Girl or Tell Me Something Good. Sometimes Pandora gets left on while we're eating dinner and my kids and I jump from the table and perform a Glee inspired dance number of our own when a particularly fantastic song comes on, like last night when the Gleed up version of Like a Prayer came on.
I knew my Glee obsession was getting dangerous when I just wanted to watch the Season 2 Premier and tried to find somewhere online to watch it for free. Sadly, I believe I may have downloaded the virus that knocked out our computer for most of last week and made many late nights for Scotty having to rebuild and kept me from keeping up on this blog. So, for now I'm waiting for reruns and thinking of more fun things to chat about.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Bathtime or bamboo shoots?
I have decided that I officially dislike the time of the day between dinnertime and bedtime. It may be because I'm home all day long with these crazy lovely children of mine or maybe because I'm dying too pee uninterrupted with door closed, but most nights 8p.m. (aka bedtime) can't come soon enough.
But before bedtime must come bathtime and that is a horrible time at our house. I will say that there was a time that I rather enjoyed bathtime, because it didn't used to be my primary task. Back in the day when there was just Jolie and Ella and the idea of having more was a panic attack waiting to happen for Scott, bathtime was done primarily by the Daddy at our house because I thought it was important for our kids to know that Daddy could take care of them too. Plus, Daddy's bathtime was WAY more fun filled with bubbles and overflowing bathwater and lots of splashing and usually went on until the bathwater was freezing the kids' tiny butts off. My bathtime usually had some singing of some sort and there were toys present, but I was much more about getting them in and clean, out and lotioned up in a timely fashion because frankly I was done playing after I'd played all day.
So, for those few lovely years we'd worked out a system where Daddy gave most of the baths and I cleaned up dinner and the house and this worked peachy. But then Cam and Maggie came along and our tub couldn't possibly hold all four messy Seitz's, and it was time to let Jolie and then Ella grow up and take showers in one bathroom while the little ones took baths in the tub because we started to get lots of fun questions about differing body parts and lots of screaming about who got to sit closest to faucet. (Who knew that would be so important?!)
At first taking a shower was fun and exciting for the big girls, once we got past the lessons on "how to officially tell if the conditioner has been rinsed out of the hair so you don't have to get back in when mom comes to check" and that "a wet body doesn't mean it's clean" and my personal favorite "mom's shaving gel is not meant for washing your body or for making the floor super slippery". (duh!) But now the shower has become the small confined space where we're quite certain will host a cage match fight between the girls most nights. Also, I think my girls may have set several records for the amount of time it takes two girls to wash their hair and get ready for bed as well as working on the record for the highest water bill ever to be paid in history of Iowa.
Basically, bathtime is the loudest, messiest, wettest time of the day with much fighting and screeching and usually some crying thrown in. Most nights it is not peaceful and calm and fun anymore like the good old days. I think that getting four children bathed, in their pj's, with teeth and hair brushed could be one of the most exhausting parts of our day, and sometimes think I would rather someone stuff bamboo shoots under my fingernails than do it all over again the next night. But I have to admit, they are pretty darn cute when they're clean and smell like baby lotion...and asleep.
But before bedtime must come bathtime and that is a horrible time at our house. I will say that there was a time that I rather enjoyed bathtime, because it didn't used to be my primary task. Back in the day when there was just Jolie and Ella and the idea of having more was a panic attack waiting to happen for Scott, bathtime was done primarily by the Daddy at our house because I thought it was important for our kids to know that Daddy could take care of them too. Plus, Daddy's bathtime was WAY more fun filled with bubbles and overflowing bathwater and lots of splashing and usually went on until the bathwater was freezing the kids' tiny butts off. My bathtime usually had some singing of some sort and there were toys present, but I was much more about getting them in and clean, out and lotioned up in a timely fashion because frankly I was done playing after I'd played all day.
So, for those few lovely years we'd worked out a system where Daddy gave most of the baths and I cleaned up dinner and the house and this worked peachy. But then Cam and Maggie came along and our tub couldn't possibly hold all four messy Seitz's, and it was time to let Jolie and then Ella grow up and take showers in one bathroom while the little ones took baths in the tub because we started to get lots of fun questions about differing body parts and lots of screaming about who got to sit closest to faucet. (Who knew that would be so important?!)
At first taking a shower was fun and exciting for the big girls, once we got past the lessons on "how to officially tell if the conditioner has been rinsed out of the hair so you don't have to get back in when mom comes to check" and that "a wet body doesn't mean it's clean" and my personal favorite "mom's shaving gel is not meant for washing your body or for making the floor super slippery". (duh!) But now the shower has become the small confined space where we're quite certain will host a cage match fight between the girls most nights. Also, I think my girls may have set several records for the amount of time it takes two girls to wash their hair and get ready for bed as well as working on the record for the highest water bill ever to be paid in history of Iowa.
Basically, bathtime is the loudest, messiest, wettest time of the day with much fighting and screeching and usually some crying thrown in. Most nights it is not peaceful and calm and fun anymore like the good old days. I think that getting four children bathed, in their pj's, with teeth and hair brushed could be one of the most exhausting parts of our day, and sometimes think I would rather someone stuff bamboo shoots under my fingernails than do it all over again the next night. But I have to admit, they are pretty darn cute when they're clean and smell like baby lotion...and asleep.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
It's the New Year!
With the new year and all I decided that starting Monday, January 3, I am going to wake up bright and early every day before the rest of the house is up and sit at the computer with my cup of coffee and spend a few minutes writing, on this blog and in my journal and perhaps even begin my masterpiece that I want to publish soon. I've been in bed by 10:30pm at night and thankfully Maggie is finally sleeping all night long every night so I should be completely rested and not miserable getting up at 6am to start this "me time" that I want to carve out. I've filled my coffee pot with water and set it to brew before I even wake up so that I might have a Folgers moment and spring from my bed even though it's dark and cold.
But as you can see, it's Tuesday afternoon now and I'm just starting to write on this blog and my journal and my masterpiece are also void of any writing, because I would really rather stay in bed until 7am. Ugh...
So please, if you don't see updates to this blog on occasion or if you're in the neighborhood and don't see a light on downstairs, feel free to nudge me along.
And now I'll end with a Cam funny today:
Cameron, my spirited, ultra-intelligent, and Scott's mini-me in more ways that I can appreciate most days child, loves to remove the batteries from any toy or electronic device and make sure they're fully charged with his Daddy's battery tester. Over the Christmas holiday he has also learned how to plug in the reusable battery charger and charge up his batteries.
This morning he had 3 screwdrivers lined up neatly on the coffee table that he'd found from who-knows-where because I can never seem to find one on the rare occasion that I need one. He also had about 15 batteries that we'd just gotten from Christmas for new toys and he was trying to get them into a toy for Maggie, so he says. Really, I actually think he has just figured out that having all these tools out where his tiny 1 year old sister can reach them and eat them and stab herself in the eyeball with gives me a small heart attack and he enjoys watching me squirm. So anyhow, he was trying to get the AAA batteries into a toy with AA batteries and it wasn't working and he was very annoyed with me because he couldn't make them fit. So I asked him where he found the little batteries and he said to me like I was an idiot, "From the glob, mom."
I looked around and had no clue what he was talking about. So I asked again, "Where did you get these tiny batteries, oh lovely child of mine?"
At this point he stops working and puts the screwdriver down, sighing more than a 3 year old should have any right to sigh, and points a electronic globe on the floor, "the glob".
The globe. Funny.
But as you can see, it's Tuesday afternoon now and I'm just starting to write on this blog and my journal and my masterpiece are also void of any writing, because I would really rather stay in bed until 7am. Ugh...
So please, if you don't see updates to this blog on occasion or if you're in the neighborhood and don't see a light on downstairs, feel free to nudge me along.
And now I'll end with a Cam funny today:
Cameron, my spirited, ultra-intelligent, and Scott's mini-me in more ways that I can appreciate most days child, loves to remove the batteries from any toy or electronic device and make sure they're fully charged with his Daddy's battery tester. Over the Christmas holiday he has also learned how to plug in the reusable battery charger and charge up his batteries.
This morning he had 3 screwdrivers lined up neatly on the coffee table that he'd found from who-knows-where because I can never seem to find one on the rare occasion that I need one. He also had about 15 batteries that we'd just gotten from Christmas for new toys and he was trying to get them into a toy for Maggie, so he says. Really, I actually think he has just figured out that having all these tools out where his tiny 1 year old sister can reach them and eat them and stab herself in the eyeball with gives me a small heart attack and he enjoys watching me squirm. So anyhow, he was trying to get the AAA batteries into a toy with AA batteries and it wasn't working and he was very annoyed with me because he couldn't make them fit. So I asked him where he found the little batteries and he said to me like I was an idiot, "From the glob, mom."
I looked around and had no clue what he was talking about. So I asked again, "Where did you get these tiny batteries, oh lovely child of mine?"
At this point he stops working and puts the screwdriver down, sighing more than a 3 year old should have any right to sigh, and points a electronic globe on the floor, "the glob".
The globe. Funny.
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