Spreading Holiday Cheer...

...for all to slip on and break their backs.
I'd never wondered what my kitchen floor would look like covered in brazillions* of tiny rainbow sprinkles, but I found out, nonetheless. My OCD and I just had to tear that last bit of plastic safety seal off the container, causing the lid to pop off, the container to tip, and sprinkles to scatter. Everywhere.
I swept some of it out the back door onto the snow-covered deck. The dog really enjoyed that. Mmm! Sugar and snow! This would be delectable on a hot summer's day. Someone should market this!
My floor looked quite festive for about two minutes. But I got all the sprinkles swept up; filled the dustpan three times (there might also have been some dog hair in there and part of the boys' lunch that Vito didn't snarf up the second they dropped it--it's a wasteful phase they're going through, testing gravity and all).
And luckily no one fell and broke anything.

* One of President Bush's advisors told him one day, "President, there have been horrible riots in Brazil. Four Brazilian soldiers have been killed, many more injured." Bush was sorry to hear this horrible news: "This is terrible. [pause.] How many is a brazilian?"

Ham Biscuit McCanfield

I made breakfast today. I know, I've totally outdone myself this time. I just don't make breakfast very often because our kitchen is usually a mess from dinner the night before; that whole clean-as-you-go thing is apparently too difficult a concept for me to grasp, and I always think, "I'll clean up after the boys go to bed." But by then all I want to do is veg in front of the TV with some unhealthy snacks and watch The Daily Show and The Colbert Report. It is important to keep up on current events; that's my rationale and I'm sticking to it. So I wake up in the morning (or sometimes around noon, depending on what time I watch the "News") and give the boys some banana slices and some cold cereal and I clean while they eat.

Today was different, though, because I actually did my cleaning after dinner last night while the boys played. And even though I stayed up late to watch White Chicks (that movie never gets old to me; I've seen it dozens of times and it still cracks me up), I still got up early (9:30) and decided to treat the boys and David to a hot meal. We had ham-egg-cheese sandwiches on flaky biscuits. Delicious! I should stay on top of things more often.

In an unrelated note, we finally got a good family photo taken. Here it is, along with one that's not so great but that I find hilarious in that it captures the boys' personalities quite well (Drew has a fit, Owen is stoic and pensive):

Meow! & Doot-De-Doo!

Sometimes Owen just sneaks off. Last Saturday, we were all downstairs watching ESPN and suddenly Owen wasn't with us. So I went upstairs and there he was: happily eating out of the cat's dish and splashing in the water bowl. Yesterday, I saw him crawling around the living room with something hanging out of his mouth. It was a cat toy. He carried it over to the cat dish and dropped it.

Drew is rarely hard to find; he makes a lot more noise when he plays. His favorite place to play is in the kitchen cupboards and drawers. So we had to move everything breakable or dangerous out of there and replace it all with sippy cups and paper towel rolls. Safe things. It turns out paper towel rolls make a fantastic noise when you yell into them, and they can sound a bit like trumpets.

At Risk of Sounding Ungrateful

Sometimes I wonder if the in-laws just invite us to lunch with them so they can watch Drew and Owen eat. They've actually given the boys a new nickname: "The Eaters." Creative, I know.

I guess I shouldn't care, since they usually pay (and by usually, I guess I mean always), but sometimes I get a little tired of it. It's always loud, everyone making a big deal whenever one of The Eaters eats something. "My gosh, he ate a pea. Oh! He's eating a piece of bread! Look at him chow that french fry!" (In case this isn't coming across at all like I'm imagining it in my mind, think sarcasm and bitterness.)

And it seems like we always see someone the in-laws know, and have to be introduced, and they all have to ogle over the boys and stand there and watch us eat, and someone almost always says, "My, you have your hands full. I'm glad it's you and not me!"

Is that supposed to be clever or witty? It makes me want to pimp-smack them and say, "Thanks for stating the obvious. I'm glad it's not you, too. With that attitude, you'd be a horrible parent." (Bitterness, once again)

But because I'm so nice, I always just flash my best cheerleader smile (I've got one, even though I was never a cheerleader), say, "Yes, thanks. It was nice to meet you, too." And I act like one of the boys needs my rapt attention so I no longer have to make eye contact.

At the end of the whole experience I feel like saying, "If you're gonna make me earn my meal, why don't I just pay next time? Grr."

Bitter, bitter, bitter. Sorry, everyone. Here: this video at the end of ACE's post will make you feel better. Maybe I should watch it again, too.

I'm All For Zoos

I was just browsing some pictures online and there were lots of animal pictures, most of which (if not all) were taken at a zoo. And I got to thinking about zoos and how, almost every time I've gone to one, someone in or near my party says, "Zoos are inhumane. I hate them." As a general rule, I'm against extremism on either end of the spectrum, but those bleeding-heart PETA activists especially drive me crazy.

Don't get me wrong; I don't endorse cruelty to animals (though I do eat meat, and people may argue that the cow I ate was cruelly murdered before it was cut up and cooked for my enjoyment), and I do actually like a lot of what I've seen on PETA's website. I do, however believe in moderation. And open-mindedness.

Consider all the facts before you go on a rant about the atrocities of zoos. This snippet came from a Wikipedia article:

"Most animal rights activists disapprove of zoos because they interpret zoos as human domination over equal creatures and criticize their educational value as being superficial and useless."

Are you people [animal rights activists] kidding me? Where else would an inner city kid (or a country bumpkin like myself) get to see a giraffe? A cheetah? A rhinoceros? I've never been to Africa, but I've seen a live rhino. It was magnificent. Even the lack of 'natural environment' at a zoo is a lot more stimulating to young minds than just reading about these animals out of a book.

Granted, there are some zoos in existence that mistreat animals, but I believe those are few. The problem most zoos have is funding. So next time you go to the zoo, don't just pity the animals; drop some moolah in the donation box and think about how you just helped purchase some food or medicine for that animal.

And if it weren't for zoos, would this picture exist?

(AP Photo/Paul Miller/FILE)

Who Knew?

...that something as small as half a blue crayon in the dryer would ruin an entire load of laundry?!
I guess the right question (since I already knew the answer to the first one), would be this: Who knew that the stinkin' crayon was in the dryer in the first place and how did it get there? Yeah, that was really two questions. I'm just so ticked! At least they weren't my clothes (sorry, Drew and Owen, but your clothes are cheaper to replace).
The damaged clothes are still wearable, but I thought the boys should have something without polka-dots to wear in public; doesn't really matter what they wear to piddle around the house (and that's the piddle that means hang out, lounge, pass time; I realize there are slang forms of the word that mean other things). So we went shopping today and bought some new pants and a few new shirts. All I can say is: a) I'm glad we decided not to dress the boys to match; it is much cheaper for them to share clothes; b) thank goodness for holiday sales. This is the best time of year to ruin your kids' clothes with a blue crayon.

MMM...Candy!

I love candy.

I guess that could be the entirety of my blog post for today, and it would perfectly sum up everything I wish to say with this writing. But, of course, I'm going to keep on typing. I love candy!

I went to a cooking training class thing with my friend and some gals from her church. I've been there twice; it's a monthly thing--last month we made various rice dishes: rice pilaf, Spanish rice, et cetera. This month, we made holiday candies: peanut brittle, toffee (I made this one 'cause I thought it'd be difficult and I wanted to get better at making it. It turns out, it's really simple and very delicious), cherry chocolates (way better than the kind available for purchase in stores), Snicker's candy (also better than the store kind), and Oreo Bon-Bons--just to name a few.

Rice is good, candy is better. Rice paper candy is pretty good; it's actually ginger flavored candy wrapped in rice paper (edible paper!) and can be purchased in the Asian Foods section of almost every grocery store.

There are, however, some holiday treats that aren't so good. Take, for example fruit cake. "Fruit, good; cake, great; fruit cake, nasty crap" --Jim Gaffigan. And that's actually the only holiday treat, of which I can think, for which I do not particularly care (how was that for grammatically correct?).

Well I'm just rambling now 'cause it's late and I'm tired and I'm avoiding doing dishes and I can put this run-on sentence in here because I already got good-grammar points with the previous sentence. And now I'm signing off. For now... I do have a few things to say about the new James Bond movie. Stay tuned. Same Bat Blog, Same Bat Channel.

Auntie Ace Would Be So Proud

I needed some good music to get me into the groove to clean my kitchen tonight, and I thought, since it is December and all, "Why not Christmas music?" Well, I only have two CDs and one album so there wasn't much of a selection, but I decided to let Owen choose which CD we would listen to. His options were Elvis and *N Sync.* I kind thought he'd pick *N Sync because the CD case is all bright and shiny and red. I hoped he'd pick Elvis. Owen took a good look at his options, smiled real big, pointed to Elvis and said, "Dah!" So we listened to Elvis. Owen and Drew bopped along to the songs and I got my kitchen [somewhat] clean.

* Just so everyone knows, I bought this CD when the band was still popular and their lameness was overshadowed by their what-were-then-considered-good-looks. And in the band's defense, they do a beautiful rendition of "O Holy Night" a cappella.

Various Random Stories; Part II

(I realize this is the second post today, I just decided to break my post into two segments to make them more readable. I find it more aesthetically pleasing and less daunting to read.)

And now for Story Number Two. Drew and Owen pretty much sleep through the night now. HOORAY! They have been for a while, and it's been kinda nice. So imagine my surprise (and feelings of slight annoyment) when Owen starts screaming at 1:30 in the morning. I went in to check on him, gave him back his pacifier,* gave him a hug, and he went right back to sleep. I went back to my bed, snuggled down under my warm quilt, closed my eyes for what felt like seconds but was probably minutes, and suddenly Drew starts screaming. So I stumbled out of bed and made the trek across the hall to the boys room. Again. Checked on Drew, gave him his pacifier, gave him a hug, put him back to bed. Still screaming. So I picked him up again and as I did so, I noticed something in the corner of Drew's crib that didn't belong there. Merle. That crazy cat had jumped into the crib and is just small enough to fit between the slats (yeah, it's an old crib and probably wouldn't pass today's high standards of safety).And it freaked Drew out. So I booted Merle out of the crib, let Drew sleep in my bed until he calmed down, and then put him back to bed, at which point he fell right to sleep. Thus ends Story Number Two.
Thank you for joining us for Parts I and II of our two-part series, "Various Random Stories." Stay tuned, and we just may add more exciting Stories to the series. The fun never ends at the House of Canfield.

* We just don't say certain words in our house, and Binky is one of them. Others are 'potty;' 'poo-poo' (we prefer the more classy term 'doo-doo pie'); 'pee-pee' and 'boo-boo.' There are others, but too many to list here. Maybe I should make another post! ...some other day.

Various Random Stories; Part I

I had to call the Poison Control Center the other night. Don't worry, it's not as scary as it sounds.

Usually while I cook (which cooking itself is unusual for me), I let the boys play in their playroom which is just off the kitchen so I can hear them and check on them with ease. I was just finishing dinner when I realized that Owen was being really quiet. He's generally more quiet than Drew (a lot more), but this time I couldn't hear him throwing toys or anything. So I went in to check on him and there he was happily taking clothes out of his dresser and putting them back in. I thought with relief, "Okay, he's fine." But then he turned to look at me, and he had a white ring around his mouth. I picked him up and did a sniff-test and discovered it was Desitin (the anti-diaper rash ointment has a very distinct smell). I thought that was pretty gross, and I told him so: "That stuff goes on your bottom, not in your mouth." He just laughed.

I located the tube of ointment and checked the drug facts. It said, "If swallowed, get medical help or contact Poison Control immediately." Yikes! Usually things just say to drink some water or something. So I made The Call.

I guess a lot of people call Poison Control about their kids eating Desitin. The nice nurse on the phone advised me to remain calm (as I already was*) and asked me various questions about the type of Desitin and the amount swallowed. Turns out, Desitin Creamy, which is the type Owen decided to taste, has less Zinc Oxide in it, so it's not as harmful to little stomachs. Also, it was a small tube and didn't look like it had much missing (I'm guessing Owen didn't like the taste and didn't bother eating any more than a tiny morsel). The nurse assured me that he would be fine and sent me on my way. Thus ends Story Number One.

*I'm not the type to overreact (at certain things--I think David would say that I overreact to trivial stuff and I think he'd be correct, but in a real crisis, I usually remain fairly calm and level-headed). I just wondered why immediate medical care was required, as per the directions on the Desitin label.

It's Official

Yay! I can finally put up Christmas decorations!

I guess I'd better clean my house first... I made myself a little Chore Chart so I can stay on top of cleaning. It's working pretty well, so far. I've been kinda flexible with it, so I don't get too fanatical and throw the thing in the garbage if I don't stick to the plan. For example: Today I really didn't feel like tackling the TV room which is large and messy and full of a lot of junk I haven't decided what to do with, so I chose to clean the living room (which, at the time of this writing I haven't actually done) and save the TV room for tomorrow. Why do today what you can put off 'til some other time?

Speaking of Christmas, Abby mentioned on a recent blog post some ways to get in the Christmas spirit. Personally, I've gotten to the point of not really caring about presents, so without all the excitement of gift-getting* I've had to think of other ways to get through the season without feeling like Ol' Ebenezer. So rather than clog up Abby's comment section, I figured I'd post some of my ideas here**.

• Shovel snow for your neighbor.
• Make cookies and give some to a friend (eat some yourself, of course!).
• Listen to Christmas music.
• Help give an underprivileged family a better Christmas. We saw a program set up at the mall called Secret Santa where you can pick a kid and anonymously donate a present from their wishlist. Also, no matter where you go to church (or even if you don't), the local clergy probably know of someone who could use some help--food, clothes, toys--doesn't have to be anything big.
• Send a Christmas card to your grandparents. Or your parents, or whoever.

I guess there are lots of ways to have a happy holiday. I'm going to start by cleaning our living room (even though Drew and Owen will probably have it strewn with books again the second they wake up from their naps).

* I realize getting presents isn't the 'reason for the season' but there was a time when it was definitely one of the more exciting parts of Christmas.

** I haven't tried all of these, and maybe I won't get to all of them this season; I'm not Wonder Woman. But I usually find, every year, that I have more fun if I'm thinking of ways to help others have more fun...