Bob and I drink green tea every day. But I find it tedious draining the liquid off and scraping all the leaves out of the cup into the compost pail I have in the kitchen. So I decided to just walk out the back door and dump the old tea, leaves and all, into our herb garden.
Bob saw me doing this and asked me if I should be pouring them into the plants that surround his Happy Buddha on the porch. "I'm just not sure if that would be appropriate," he wondered.
"Well," I said, "I think appropriate went out the window yesterday when Willa was feeding Buddha crackers."
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Return to Sender ...
Always follow the rules of the Kindergarten teacher: "Please hand deliver birthday invitations outside of class time so no feelings are hurt for those children not invited." Trust me on this one; it is a very good rule.
Milo turns 5 years old next week and we are having his birthday party Sunday afternoon. He invited (and these are his words) "just the silly boys" from his class.
I put the invitations in his backpack on the weekend so I could hand them out at school the next day. Then I forgot they were in there. The second day back to school, one parent handed a familiar looking envelope to the teacher, "This was in Jimmy's backpack." The envelope didn't have Jimmy's name on it. As I warily took the invitation from the teacher, a second parent handed another familiar looking envelope to the teacher. It didn't have her son's name on it either.
I asked the mothers of 2 other boys he should have invited -- one received his invitation, the other didn't. I spent the entire morning puzzling over the situation: where were the invitations? Who had he invited? Would he even remember?
Finally at lunch, the mystery was solved. Milo had handed the invitations out himself at snack time when he found them in his backpack. When Billy said he didn't want to come, Milo gave Billy's invitation to Bobby. Billy also told Milo that Johnny wouldn't want to go either, so Milo asked Eddie if he wanted to come instead.
So, now I have a few extra "silly boys" coming on Sunday and needless to say, I've had to hire a teenager to help out during the party.
Lesson learned: I will always hand deliver invitations outside of class time. If not just for the sake of hurt feelings, but for the sake of my own sanity!
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Milo turns 5 years old next week and we are having his birthday party Sunday afternoon. He invited (and these are his words) "just the silly boys" from his class.
I put the invitations in his backpack on the weekend so I could hand them out at school the next day. Then I forgot they were in there. The second day back to school, one parent handed a familiar looking envelope to the teacher, "This was in Jimmy's backpack." The envelope didn't have Jimmy's name on it. As I warily took the invitation from the teacher, a second parent handed another familiar looking envelope to the teacher. It didn't have her son's name on it either.
I asked the mothers of 2 other boys he should have invited -- one received his invitation, the other didn't. I spent the entire morning puzzling over the situation: where were the invitations? Who had he invited? Would he even remember?
Finally at lunch, the mystery was solved. Milo had handed the invitations out himself at snack time when he found them in his backpack. When Billy said he didn't want to come, Milo gave Billy's invitation to Bobby. Billy also told Milo that Johnny wouldn't want to go either, so Milo asked Eddie if he wanted to come instead.
So, now I have a few extra "silly boys" coming on Sunday and needless to say, I've had to hire a teenager to help out during the party.
Lesson learned: I will always hand deliver invitations outside of class time. If not just for the sake of hurt feelings, but for the sake of my own sanity!
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Thursday, May 24, 2007
We All Scream for Ice Cream ...
The other day I was doing some gardening when Willa emerged cheerfully with a bowl of ice cream. She was followed closely by Milo with a much larger bowl of ice cream.
"Um, watcha got?" I queried cautiously.
"Ite cweam," Willa sang, in her lovable 3-year-old dialect. "Milo gotted it for me!"
"Yeah!" Milo chimed in, "I did it all by myself!" He was smiling from ear to ear, his shirt covered in chocolate from wiping his hands in it.
"You're awfully messy," I commented. "Who's going to clean your shirt? Are you?"
Oddly, he agreed.
I cleaned myself off and went inside, first to the kitchen where I was greeted by a Willy Wonka version of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. The ice cream tub was in the middle of the floor, lid to one side and scoop on the other. There was a lot of "low velocity ice cream splatter" where the bowls had been and sticky chocolate footprints nearby. There were smudged chocolate handprints on the dishwasher ("Is it clean?") and in the cutlery drawer ("No, it isn't.").
Leaving the kitchen to put the ice cream away, I found the chest freezer lid wide open. Dirty handprints covered the lid and the outside and inside of the freezer.
I heard Milo running water in the bathroom sink. Oh sure, I thought. Now he washes his hands! My frustration and I, in that order, walked into the bathroom to find him stripped to his underwear, his shorts and t-shirt in the sink.
"I'm washing my clothes," he said, smiling proudly.
He was so pleased with himself - he had made ice cream for himself and his little sister and washed the ice cream out of his shirt like I'd asked him to. How could I be upset with that?
So I quietly cleaned up the freezer, the kitchen floor, the counter, the dishwasher and the cutlery drawer. And I didn't even balk at scrubbing his and Willa's shirts for half and hour to get all the chocolate out.
Sometimes, you just have to let them grow up at their own pace.
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
"Um, watcha got?" I queried cautiously.
"Ite cweam," Willa sang, in her lovable 3-year-old dialect. "Milo gotted it for me!"
"Yeah!" Milo chimed in, "I did it all by myself!" He was smiling from ear to ear, his shirt covered in chocolate from wiping his hands in it.
"You're awfully messy," I commented. "Who's going to clean your shirt? Are you?"
Oddly, he agreed.
I cleaned myself off and went inside, first to the kitchen where I was greeted by a Willy Wonka version of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. The ice cream tub was in the middle of the floor, lid to one side and scoop on the other. There was a lot of "low velocity ice cream splatter" where the bowls had been and sticky chocolate footprints nearby. There were smudged chocolate handprints on the dishwasher ("Is it clean?") and in the cutlery drawer ("No, it isn't.").
Leaving the kitchen to put the ice cream away, I found the chest freezer lid wide open. Dirty handprints covered the lid and the outside and inside of the freezer.
I heard Milo running water in the bathroom sink. Oh sure, I thought. Now he washes his hands! My frustration and I, in that order, walked into the bathroom to find him stripped to his underwear, his shorts and t-shirt in the sink.
"I'm washing my clothes," he said, smiling proudly.
He was so pleased with himself - he had made ice cream for himself and his little sister and washed the ice cream out of his shirt like I'd asked him to. How could I be upset with that?
So I quietly cleaned up the freezer, the kitchen floor, the counter, the dishwasher and the cutlery drawer. And I didn't even balk at scrubbing his and Willa's shirts for half and hour to get all the chocolate out.
Sometimes, you just have to let them grow up at their own pace.
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Answering Service, May I Take a Message?
We all know about children's obsession with the telephone. They see Mom and Dad talking on them so often, it's a regular part of their lives and one of those "grown-up" things they like to emulate. They love to push the buttons and call Granny or Opa, but they're not so great at message taking. Our two youngest phone-aholics are no different.
One day this weekend, when we were mostly outside doing gardening, I walked in to see the phone off the hook on Bob's desk. No sooner had I hung up the phone than it rang again. It was a good friend and he told me 3-year-old Willa had answered his call 20 minutes earlier, then left to get Mommy or Daddy, never to return.
Thinking I'd have better luck with an almost-5-year-old, I asked Milo today to call a neighbour of ours who said he would come to help us with something. I gave him a little lesson on telephone etiquette and stayed close enough to hear the conversation. Milo had a nice chat with Chris and after he'd asked if Chris was coming, I prompted Milo to ask him what time he'd be here. I could hear Chris giving a rather long answer. Then Milo said, "Okay, goodbye," and hung up the phone.
"What did he say?" I asked. "Is he coming over?"
"Yes!"
"What time?"
"Um, I don't know."
Happy sweeping!Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Catching Up ...
Sorry we've been gone for so long. We were hit by a nasty virus that took us out for more than four weeks. Over the last month we all suffered differently at different times, yet each of the kids accomplished something despite being under the weather.
Neva had her first ballet recital last week. It was a huge production with four hours of weekend rehearsals, two long dress rehearsals and four 2 1/2-hour performances. It was a very long week but she did very well and still managed to make me a soggy-cereal breakfast-in-bed (complete with a glass of warm club soda!) on Mother's Day. Now I just have to figure out what to do with the $80 costume we had to buy!
Milo started soccer a few weeks ago and I believe we've found his "thing". He is so proud of his uniform, wearing it until bedtime on practice days. He's one of the few kids on his 5-and-under team that actually runs with the ball, not following along like a pack of lemmings. And when he is in goal, he has been making great saves. The best part is he's only been spoken to once by the coach for rough play. Well, so far...
As for Willa, our bright little 3-year-old, she learned to spell her name. It occurred to me now, in hindsight, that Bob and I gave our children great names for learning to spell. All the letters are relatively easy to print. So not only has Willa learned to print her name, although not always in the correct order, she also knows how to type it on the computer. The other day she was playing an online pre-school game that asks the player to type in their name to be displayed on the "award" at the end of the game. Up until now, Willa would type random letters. The other day, however, she proudly showed me her "award". It read: "Hooray! WALLI saved the day!"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Neva had her first ballet recital last week. It was a huge production with four hours of weekend rehearsals, two long dress rehearsals and four 2 1/2-hour performances. It was a very long week but she did very well and still managed to make me a soggy-cereal breakfast-in-bed (complete with a glass of warm club soda!) on Mother's Day. Now I just have to figure out what to do with the $80 costume we had to buy!
Milo started soccer a few weeks ago and I believe we've found his "thing". He is so proud of his uniform, wearing it until bedtime on practice days. He's one of the few kids on his 5-and-under team that actually runs with the ball, not following along like a pack of lemmings. And when he is in goal, he has been making great saves. The best part is he's only been spoken to once by the coach for rough play. Well, so far...
As for Willa, our bright little 3-year-old, she learned to spell her name. It occurred to me now, in hindsight, that Bob and I gave our children great names for learning to spell. All the letters are relatively easy to print. So not only has Willa learned to print her name, although not always in the correct order, she also knows how to type it on the computer. The other day she was playing an online pre-school game that asks the player to type in their name to be displayed on the "award" at the end of the game. Up until now, Willa would type random letters. The other day, however, she proudly showed me her "award". It read: "Hooray! WALLI saved the day!"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
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