Thursday, April 12, 2012

We Will Rock You

Well, as you can see, we are preparing for a Spring Piano Recital.  If I had a dime for every spring piano recital I've ever participated in ... well, let's just say there'd be a lot more blogging and a lot less teaching of the present perfect progressive.

John is playing no less than FOUR (4) numbers.  I am accompanying him on TWO (2) of them.  The fact that I'm involved in half of his show is somewhat disconcerting, but he agreed, nay, encouraged this, so I acquiesced.  (I'm banking that the former information oughtta at least get 50% of the grandparents here.  I'm preparing for the worst though: All of Them.  If only they had made the effort to come for the Christmas recital then they wouldn't feel so pressured, but alas, it just didn't work out for either the maternals or the paternals... so they're probably right now making plans to attend, since there is a 1:45 p.m. baseball game on the Saturday before).  I'm guessing (just guessing, which is altogether different from hinting) that both parties will make an attempt to be present.

After all, it is the FIRST grandson on both sides.  And the ONLY daughter and daughter-in-law that either of them can claim.  (Did I mention that I'm playing too as backup for the star?  Not that it's a big deal, but I do have a cute, spring outfit lined up.  CASUAL cute.)

In other news ... we (we?) have planned a fun weekend of shopping, pedicures, and massages baseball and fishing.  I am only gung-ho about the baseball though, I must say.  Fishing is only fun if someone else deals with your children and worms.

Let's see ... other important points ...

Tonight John wanted to play "Butt Finders" again (should I be worried?), but he compromised and decided just to tell me all about his new Lego invention.  It is a "Jungle Safari Adventure Vehicle with seats for 30."  There is one driver's seat.  Apparently, the best part of the trip is that halfway through, you stop at a "mini-vending machine" and all the passengers get to pick one snack and one drink.

Sam's news is that he has developed an uncanny knack for earworms.  This simultaneously steals my heart and annoys me.  You see, Brian and I have forever had this ongoing argument about whether or not ALL people get earworms.  I suffer horribly, but apparently he never gets them.  Of course I endure numerous other mental illnesses, including, but not limited to nervous keyboarding (as in typing every word I hear, think, see, etc.), so I've learned to cope. 

John seems to get both earworms and annoying words/phrases stuck in his head, which he repeats ad nauseum.  He also whistles incessantly.  Not tunes.  I could handle tunes.  These are basically just high-pitched noises emanating from the backseat.  I know that he is just being a kid and that I should just encourage this sort of non-self-conscious behavior.  But I.Cannot.Stand.It.  I try to say something courteous like, "COULD YOU PLEASE STOP THE UNENDING STREAM OF INSANELY HIGH-PITCHED NOISE!?!?!   I love your whistling... please whistle a TUNE!" 

But even that must come across to him as future-therapy-inducing Mamatalk.

Brian apparently has nothing repeating in his head except inappropriate comments and the desire to lick dinner plates.

But ...

Sam and I get earworms.

And lately Sam's earworm is "We Will Rock You" by Queen, which he, of course, learned from his esteemed elder sibling.  He even does the "boom boom check" of the drums.  I would video it, but my video camera has, once and for all bit the dust.  This is tragic in only a late 20th/early 21st century sort of way.  Us 1980's kids just don't know what to do if we can't "tape it," but we also realize that half the world is starving ("We Are the World," after all), so I'm trying to deal with it calmly.

In case you do not know this tune, I have posted a video link above, but even if you are quite familiar with the lyrics, I have copied them below because they are so wildly appropriate for my boys ... just imagine Sam and his right-side dimple, belting it out while his crazy Big Brother flails around making encouraging hand gestures:

We will we will rock you
We will we will rock you
Buddy you're a boy make a big noise
Playin' in the street gonna be a big man some day
You got mud on yo' face
You big disgrace
Kickin' your can all over the place

Singin'

We will
we will rock you

We will
we will rock you

Buddy you're a young man,hard man
Shoutin' in the street gonna take on the world some day
You got blood on yo' face
Y' big disgrace
Wavin' your banner all over the place

We will
we will rock you
We will
we will rock you

Buddy you're an old man, poor man
Pleadin' with your eyes gonna make you some peace, some
day
You got mud on your face
big disgrace
Somebody better put you back into yo' place

We will
we will rock you

Singin'
We will
we will rock you

everybody

We will
we will rock you

We will
we will rock you


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Tuesday, April 10, 2012

A bulleted list is sure-fire proof of writer's block. (or laziness)

Part of our dinner tonight -- colorful was the goal.
 I need to post an update.  But honestly I'd rather go through and read old blog posts and reminisce.  Like about when John-John was five and life was simpler and Sam was contained within the confines of my uterus.

 Not that we could do without him.  It's just, you know, he's two.  And that's when God really tests you to see if you're gonna keep them. 
 I haven't done this in awhile, but tonight I really just need to. 
  • Tonight John requested that I play a game called "I'm a Butt Finder."  I do not know this game.
  • Hannah gave us a 6 week notice today.  May is her last month.  No, I don't know what we're going to do.  I think we're maybe on a waiting list but I'm not sure because I'm not all that detail oriented and I figure things will work out just fine even if I have to use it as an excuse to quit my job and go back to school. Don't even consider emailing me to commiserate this loss.  I'll have a breakdown.
  • Sam can pretty much say anything now.  The most frequent utterances are, "Change me," "BE QUIET Jah-Jah," "WIPE MY HADS!" (hands), "No my go 'Lijah's house," and "My go 'Lijah's house."
  • Brian got his procedure done and is recovering nicely.  Is that appropriate?  At least I didn't tell you it was a vasectomy, and that I watched the whole thing, dumbfounded by how easy it would be to be a doctor and smacking myself in the head for not figuring that out sooner than NOW. 
  • I have not taken any of his leftover valium or pain pills.
  • Next week I am FINALLY getting my haircut by a woman who makes house calls and used to drive a tractor during summer vacations in Louisiana.  She drives a royal blue mustang convertible.
  • During the time I am getting my hair did, we are having a new door installed downstairs.  (Jane, I can hear you muttering, "About time.") 
  • John had his first baseball game. They lost 4-3, but it was such a good game. 
  • During the game, Sam had time-out twice: Once for throwing rocks at the umpire who was at the fence consulting with a man who had a leashed weimaraner with a lampshade around his head.  The second time was for throwing rocks at the weimaraner.
  • The weimaraner, incidentally, was run over by his "grandpa," whose wife (Grandma, I presume?) was quick to explain that they paid the vet bill and that nothing as really broken, just a big scrape.
  • I'm not a huge weimaraner fan.
  • I have only 3 weeks of school left.
  • One of my students wrote this in his problem/solution essay about the issue of students who both work and go to school full-time: 
    Another objection is that some students may have the difficulty to study and work simultaneously such as health problems or disabilities because they will affect both work and study. For example, some students have mental problems or students with one hand and one leg specially if they are right handed and their right hand is the missing one.
  • I think I'll leave you with that fun, positive image of handless students, slogging their way through full-time jobs, families, and insane community college requirements.
OUS,
k

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Boys & Their Weapons

 
 
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To my first on his 14th, 15th, and 16th

Dear John, Happy Sweet 16th, sweet boy. You are now taller than me and your dad. You can pick me up. You have a job. You built a motorized b...