auntbijou: (Kirk duh what??)
Week Two of Summer Vacation... and I'm about to lose my religion.

Let's see, I'm trying to clean the hog pen that is our living room, a task which always makes me want to strangle my children rather cranky, because it begins to take on Sisyphean proportions. Every time I think I've cured my kids of a bad habit, I find that I haven't. They've just gotten better at concealing it.

*snarls*

Take, for example, the Impossible Son. I think Hercules had it easy, cleaning out the Augean Stables. He should try cleaning under and around the loveseat that Mr. Impossible has claimed as his own. I found... okay, I don't know what it was, I don't want to know what it was, I could live my entire life without ever knowing what that stuff was, and die happy. Seriously. It might have been a thriving civilization, for all I know. If it was, sorry, I destroyed it. I had to. It was going to take over the Earth. That's me, the unsung hero of planet Earth, saving it from being taken over by home made science experiments and penicillin farms.

So, I'm picking up detritus left over from video games, glasses left on the table from yesterday, and I move to pick up some toys next to this old video console we're using to hold DVD's and as I'm standing up, I look between the console and the wall and there are these... things. Lumpy, dark, possibly reddish, possibly purplish, kinda hard to tell... things. And it was hard to tell the color because they were covered in a thick mat of hairy mold. They might have once been strawberries, or... blackberries? I'm not sure, because like I said, I could go my whole life without needing to know. Anyhow, there they are, stuck to the floor, pulsing slightly, looking somewhat malevolent... I'm not quite sure, but... I think they were... looking at me!!

Windex and paper towels. I saved the planet with Windex and paper towels. Yes, I am awesome!!

I'm still seriously grossed out. And yeah, I let Mr. Impossible have it, making him look at the mashed, squished, Windexed remains and said, "There is a garbage can not six feet away!!. There is a compost bucket three feet beyond that!! USE THEM!!! Or seriously, the XBox, the Wii, and the PS2 will go the way of the triceratops. As in BYE BYE!!"

I don't get it, this kid can play an entire game of soccer nonstop, he can run a mile without stopping, he can climb anything, is sometimes so energetic he can't sit still and has to go outside to play... and he can't walk six feet to a garbage can????

Oh, and I'm seriously going to have to call my mother and apologize again. Because I completely understand now why she would go nuts when I'd put music I liked on the stereo and had it blasting away while I cleaned the living room and the bathroom. Because when the Impertinent Daughter puts her music on full blast while she cleans her room, the living room, her bathroom, the kitchen, etc... it drives me up the wall!!! And you know what the worst part is??

We like the same music!!

I mean, how sad is that? She's listening to music that I like... and it's driving me nuts because I can't hear myself think!!

That's it. I am officially old.

Oh, and another thing... I'd better get some serious chocolate out of this. I'm not kidding. Because after I finish scraping that weird sticky stuff off the wood floor in the living room (and no, I don't want to know what that stuff is either), I have to tackle the kitchen and the laundry room.

*head-desk*

This is sooooooo going on my bill to Homeland Security. I mean, seriously, I SAVED the PLANET. With Windex. And paper towels.

How many superheroes do you know can do that?

Yeah. That's what I thought!

Excuse me, I need to find the paint scraper. There's a malevolent force of evil I need to scrape off the floor. By the way, have you seen the Windex?
auntbijou: (Thank You!!)
Dear Mr. Knickerbocker,

I utterly adore you. You are undeniably the best math teacher the Impertinent Daughter has had so far since she's been in school, and if I could, I would clone you and seed you around this district to boost their abysmal math scores. This is the first year I haven't had to tutor her, and it's been totally awesome to see her enthusiasm for math come back.

I only feel bad that you had to spend so much of your time tutoring your classes in algebra, instead of teaching geometry, which is what you're actually supposed to be teaching, since the TAKS for freshman year has more algebra on it than anything else. And I thoroughly enjoyed your pithy remarks about the algebra teachers at the junior high "writing our own textbook as we go along," which made your job so much harder this year.

You are totally made of awesome. Just thought you ought to know.

with great enthusiasm,

Auntie


I figured it was time I actually complimented one of my kids' teachers, rather than complain like I usually do!
auntbijou: made by <lj comm=lvlwings_icons> (Delicious Hot Schmoes!)
Happy 15th Birthday to the Impertinent Daughter.

You are now old enough to start learning how to drive and to find whole new ways to give your mother heart failure. In another year, you'll be old enough to date, and I'm trying very, very hard not to think about that right now, and let's just not mention that to your father, dear, or he'll likely have a meltdown. I mean, he's still trying to adjust to you being old enough to have a moon cycle, know what I mean?

May I say that I am continually amazed by you? I'm amazed by the amount of destruction you leave in your wake in whatever room you're in, I'm amazed by the leaps and bounds you make in your art work, I'm stunned by the maturity you show on occasion, and flabbergasted when I find you happily playing with the Tall Blonde's 3 year old son like the two of you are the best pals ever. I love it that you get my humor, and you tolerate your papa's really awful puns, and I love your sly, subtle humor and the truly devious way your mind works. Please to not be using your evil Jedi mind tricks against your mother, though, since I'm the one who taught them to you, by the way.

And may I apologize for the geekdom I have utterly doomed you to, for I did not know that I was having you on Star Wars Day. Didn't do it on purpose, I promise, but you know, the fact that my water broke while we were watching "The X Files" should have been a big, huge red flag.

Anyway, Happy Birthday, O Impertinent One!!


auntbijou: (Death)
I wish I was a whiner, because right now, ooooo, I'd be so whiny, everyone would be sick of me!

*sigh*

Okay so... last week, the virus. First Mr. Impossible, then Miss Impertinent, then me. Impossible had it until Wednesday, and went back to school on Thursday. Impertinence got it Monday afternoon and had it until Saturday. I took Impossible in to the doctor on Monday, and Impertinence on Friday. No visit for me because, well... you know how it is. Besides, it was a virus, not much to do but grin and bear it, yeah?

I took the Impertinent One in on Friday though, because we were actually starting to worry, judging by her limp noodleness and the fact she was so damn quiet, that she had... MONO... AGAIN.

*shudders at the thought*

The doctor said, "If you're still feeling like this on Monday, I'll have to run a mono panel on you."

I think she scared the Impertinent Daughter into getting better!

Okay, so... Sunday, it was hot and so the kids invited a couple of friends over and had the Epic Water Balloon Fight of Doom. Somewhere in there, a galvanized tub had been filled with water for splashing purposes, and for some crazy reason known only to another ten year old (and thus not to someone as old as, say, me) the Impossible Son lifted up that tub full of water and lost his grip so that it smashed down on his big toe.

*cries*

It is nicely purple and swollen. It got iced down and at the time, we thought it was just badly bruised because he could wiggle it and bend it. This, of course, was before he went on a field trip to San Antonio on Monday, and before a kid in his class said, "I don't believe you really hurt your toe," and... stomped on Mr. Impossible's foot.

No, I am not a happy camper. And yes, I am calling the school.

Anyhow, by last night, he was in tears, so, I called our doctor, who has his own X-ray machine, and made an appointment. And got teased about our very frequent appearances. I had to laugh, though, when one of the receptionists told me they were thinking about painting, "Reserved for Auntie's Family" above one of the exam room doors.

I said they should give me frequent flyer miles instead!

So, he was examined and X-rayed, and they'll be sent to a radiologist, but so far, they don't think his toe is broken.

The only thing is... there's only, what, six more weeks of school? And I'm working on something I might actually get paid for, but there's a deadline, and I thought, well, I have all of May to work on it...

*bangs head into wall*

GAAAAAAHHHH!!! And then... and then... and then... the Impertinent One just texted me, "Mom, my throat hurts, can you come get me??"

NO! NO, NO, NO!! BECAUSE I AM NOT GOING TO LET YOU START SUMMER VACATION SIX WEEKS EARLY!! NO, NO, NO, NO!!!!

*wails*

And the cats are stalking me because I need to buy more cat food, and I desperately need to go grocery shopping, but I can't, because Mr. Impossible is supposed to stay off his foot, and I'M ABOUT TO LOSE MY MIND!!!

I just need time to write, and just... get it done, and hello, universe, please to start cooperating with me? Because I really, really can't take more of this, really. Seriously. Stop it now. Now. Stop it.

*self medicates with chocolate, lots and lots of chocolate*

May Day!!

Sunday, May 1st, 2011 04:40 pm
auntbijou: made by <lj comm=lvlwings_icons> (Delicious Hot Schmoes!)
Happy May Day to you all!!

And say, how cool is it to have my own personal fan artist living with me? I mean, I know, right??

First, she gave me Spock in a Carp Suite.

And now, she gives me ... cranky Dr. Rodney McKay from Stargate Atlantis!!!

Look!! Look!!

Rodney McKay

Isn't he CUUUUUTE????

*merry laughter*

I am so spoiled!!

*hugs the Impertinent Daughter a LOT!*
auntbijou: (Default)
I knew this day was coming.

I had every faith that it was coming.

I just knew, if I was patient, if I introduced it in small doses... I knew it would happen, and... now... now at last, I can share it with all of you.

My daughter...

*pauses for dramatic effect*

*sniffs and wipes a tear from cheek*

My daughter... has... committed...

FAN ART!!!

I'M SO PROUD!!!

*is overcome with emotion*

Seriously Amazing Fan Art.

And not just any fan art, y'all. She created... STAR TREK FAN ART!!

*squees*

And... here it is...

Artist: The Impertinent Daughter
Title: "When Spock Lost A Bet"
Rating: G
Warnings: Extremely silly and highly illogical, may be detrimental to the dignity of Vulcans.
Disclaimer: Star Trek and all its characters are owned by other people, my daughter's just playing with one of them and annoying the... carp... out of him. *chortles in unholy glee*
Artist's Notes: Don't ask.

Go on, click it, you KNOW you're dying to see it!! )

*sits back and waits*
auntbijou: (Kirk duh what??)
What is it about the number four??

Ten years ago, when the Impertinent Daughter was four, she waited until I was busy washing dishes and grabbed the pair of scissors we'd been using for some project or other, and... cut her hair. She chose a chunk on the left side of her face and cut her long, beautiful, waist length hair to her chin. Right there in front. No way of hiding it.

My wild fey little fairy had a large chunk of hair missing.

I don't know who cried harder, me or the Husbandly One. Because... it was a big enough chunk that it couldn't be hidden, or "fixed." She had to have a haircut, and oh, she didn't like it, not one bit, because she enjoyed having her hair braided, and being able to do all kinds of fun things with her hair. We took her to a salon, and she had a cute little chin length pageboy cut that made her look absolutely adorable... but we missed our wild fairy, oh, so much!

Okay, so... cut to last night. The Impossible Son is over his bout with strep and went back to school yesterday, but now I'm fighting it off, and by the time I picked the kids up from school, I was shivering and had a very nasty headache and just wanted to lie down. So I did. Miss Impertinence came in to tell me she was bored, and I remember feeling a little anxious about this because truthfully? A bored Impertinence is NEVER a good thing.

I told her to find something to read, because seriously, we have a house crammed with books that she's barely cracked one fourth of, and she wandered out, shouting something vague over her shoulder, and I sort of dozed off. She came in my room sometime later, but since she didn't say anything to me, I didn't bother opening my eyes. Then THO came home, and I heard some loud talking, and a rather... dumbfounded silence, and then the ominous words, "Does your mother know about this?"

Okay, when my husband, when talking to the kids about me, addresses me as your mother... it's never a good thing.

So, she comes ditty-bopping in and says, "Look, Mum, I cut my own hair!" and turns around so I can see the back of it.

I can quite truthfully say that I completely and intimately understand the term, "shock and awe," now.

Before I lost my battle with the Wall of Fatigue, the back of her short haircut had come down just below the base of her neck. When she turned around to show me her handiwork, it was mostly right at or just above the bottom of her hairline. Where it wasn't skewing madly off at the diagonal. Because she had used a small hand mirror to see the back of her head when she cut it.

Y'all should be proud of me. I'm pretty sure I managed to keep "aghast" out of my expression, though I'm sure the "polite interest" I was aiming for probably looked more like "crazed serial killer." Or "my eyes are about to spontaneously pop out of my head while my eyebrows ascend into my hairline."

"Do you like it?" she asked with that big grin that really means, "please don't kill me or make fun of me."

"Oh, it's... um... um..." I floundered, then finally gave up and said, "Okay, that's gonna have to be fixed." Because there was just no way I was going to be able to adequately describe just how awful it looked.

And when she finally understood what I was saying, she said, "Well, what kind of cut do you think I'll have to get to fix it?"

I said, "Um... okay, think... Emma Watson..."

And I could see panic in her eyes because... she gets mistaken for a boy now with the feminine haircut she had before she'd mangled it, and I knew she was thinking it would only get worse if her hair was that short.

THO drove her into San Marcos after ordering me back to bed (because I'm trying not to come down with strep) to get her hair fixed because... there are no salons open after 5 in our small town. No, seriously, a lot of the businesses here roll up the sidewalks and lock the doors at 5 p.m.

They managed to salvage what she did to her hair and make it cute and girly without going the Emma Watson route. And she's actually taken my advice and today wore a shirt that leaves no doubt in anyone's mind that she is, indeed, a girl. However, I told her that should she continue this trend and decide to cut her own hair when she's 24, she's on her own as I will be officially not responsible for bad haircuts, dubious fashion choices, or shoe fails. They will all be on her ticket!

Now if I could just convince the Impossible Son to get his hair cut...
auntbijou: made by <lj comm=lvlwings_icons> (Delicious Hot Schmoes!)
Well, what a very intense two weeks it's been! Let's see... the Impertinent Daughter got cleated in the ankle during a game four weeks ago, and has never gotten better, despite rest (okay, as much rest as you can force on an active 14 year old), ice, and ibuprofen. So, I took her to our regular doctor, who immediately benched her and after reviewing x-rays, determined that while there were no stress fractures, she needed to see an orthopedic specialist.

In the meantime, soccer season opened for the recreation league on Saturday, so the Impossible Son had his first game. And it was cold, extremely windy, and a brief shower. Which meant we were cold, wet, and miserable at first. It only rained for maybe 8 minutes, but it managed to soak me from the knees down, and the wind blew it up under the hem of my jeans and completely soaked the ankles of my wool socks, which then seeped down into my shoes. Mr. Impossible was soaked through to his Under Armour cold gear and was shivering, even after I shoved his hoodie on him, yes, I literally shoved it on him because he didn't want to wear it!. The Husbandly One, being such a Killer Macho Dude, chose to acknowledge that it was chilly by wearing jeans instead of shorts, and only wore his light coach's shirt instead of putting on a jacket. Needless to say, he spent a great deal of time either rubbing his hands together, shoving them into his pockets while hunching, or shivering.

*insert eye-roll here*

Mr. Impossible started off as a forward, but seemed to slow down more and more as the first half went on. And the kid the coach had chosen to play goalie had never played it before and had all the attention span of a gnat, so he only noticed a ball coming into the goalbox after it got shot in. So, 5 goals later, she switched out GnatMan with Mr. Impossible.

Of course, after the game, we found out why he wasn't playing like himself. He changed clothes, curled up on the couch to play his DS, then came to me an hour later saying, "Mom, I have a headache." The next thing we knew, he was hotter than a baked potato. I stuck a thermometer in him and whoa, it was 102 F!!!

An hour after that, I was peering into his throat and wondering just how the hell he was breathing, because his tonsils were so swollen, they were almost touching! And everything in there was bright red! Hello, Benadryl!! I was pretty sure at that point our old friend Steve, the Strep Bug, had made yet another visit to our home.

So, Monday rolls around. Monday was the day the Impertinent One was supposed to go to the orthopedic doctor. So, bright and early, I started calling our regular doctor to get Mr. Impossible in because, yes, still sick, with the added attraction of a lovely bumpy rash covering his stomach, groin, and back. WOO-HOO!!!

They couldn't get him in until 1:30.

Miss Priss had an appointment in San Marcos at 3.

Oh, yeah, THAT was fun!

Dose Impossible with Benadryl for itching, run to freshman campus to pick up Impertinent, take both to Dr. W. here in town. Sit in the waiting room, twitching and looking at time, thinking, "I have to be out of here at least by 2:30 to be even close to not being late." Finally get in, they swab his throat, and he's so positive for strep, the tester starts changing the second they put the swab in the medium. So, I called the ortho, Dr. S, told him what was going on and said, "Okay, so... do I bring her in with Impossible in tow, or do we cancel and make another appointment?"

I hear a brief flurry of conversation in the background, and then he says, "Bring her in, but your son needs to have a mask on, and if you've got hand cleaner, use it!"

So that meant a swing by the pharmacy to pick up a small package of masks, and turn in Impossible's prescription, and I love my pharmacy, because they let me grab what I needed and not pay for it until I was back in town.

Dr. S, after an extremely paranoid look at my son, poked and prodded Impertinent's ankle and peered at the x-rays, and confirmed no breaks, no stress fractures... it was a badly sprained ankle that hadn't been allowed to heal, and he gave her a very stern look at that. She's off athletics for four weeks, and she's to go for physical therapy during that time. Seems the ligaments and tendons in her ankle are loose and need to be built back up and if she doesn't do it now, she'll be chronically prone to injuries in that ankle.

*sigh*

When we finally got home, I was ready to collapse. Two nights of little to no sleep, and then all of that? Yeah, I was wiped!

The Impossible Son went back to school today, and I'm hoping like heck the rash he has now is still from strep, and not because he's developed an allergy to the antibiotic he's on. And I'm hoping like heck I didn't get it from him, because I've got a fever and I haven't had a chance to buy new toothbrushes yet.

Oh, and the high school soccer team had their last game last night, which Miss Impertinent could not play in, and it was killing her to have to sit on the bench and have the coach turn to her, about to put her in, and remember that she couldn't play... she was not a happy camper when she came home after.

I need to call the therapy center today to set her up and get her started. And email her coach again about starting her on Pilates.

I think I'll be incredibly stubborn and just refuse to get sick. That'll work, right?

*falls face-first into bed*
auntbijou: (Soccer is love...)
SHE GOT A GOAL!!!



*dance of joy, dance of joy, dance of joy*

It was BEAUTIFUL!!! There was a big, blustery cold front blowing in, and our team had the advantage of the wind in the first half. Miss Impertinent saw her chance, lofted the shot up and over the head of the keeper and STRAIGHT INTO THE GOAL!!! It was EPIC!!!

AND I NEARLY MISSED IT!!!

I had the Tall Blonde's 3 year old son in my lap, my head bent over his as I tried to understand what he was telling me, and suddenly, the Tall Blonde grabbed my arm, yanked, and said, "LOOK, AUNTIE!!" and I looked up just in time to see it!!

They lost, 2 to 1, because the other team had the advantage of the wind, and we lost our goalie to a band concert at half time, but STILL!! It was AWESOME!!!

The Impertinent Daughter's first words to me when she saw me after the game?

"Mum, you're getting a tattoo!!!"

LOLOLOLOLOLOL!!!!

OMG SQUEEEEE!!!!

Friday, January 28th, 2011 10:19 pm
auntbijou: (Soccer is love...)
OMG, y'all, the Impertinent Daughter had the most EPIC game ever tonight!!!

*flailflailflail*

The coach has been playing her as a forward, which really freaked her out at the beginning of the season, but she's settling into it and OMG, she nearly scored three times tonight, not to mention this totally epic steal/recapture/jockey/resteal/shoot sequence she had... it was... OMG, I was so breathless from yelling that I was squeaking!!!

I finally had to sit down with my hands over my mouth, because, omg, it was like seeing her when she first started playing, so fierce and take no prisoners!!!

Oh, the Lady Lions JV had such an awesome game, and though they lost 1-0, they actually had more shots on goal than their opponent did! And the one goal the Bears got was a complete accident on both their and our part. But STILL!!!

*is thrilled liek whoa*

Oh, yeah, did I mention? The Impertinent One and I have a bet. If she gets a goal, I have to get another tattoo.

Looks like she really, really wants me to get a tattoo!!

I'm gonna be so hoarse tomorrow from all the yelling and squeaking, but, oh, so worth it!!

I'M SO PROUD!! Bet y'all couldn't tell at all, right?
auntbijou: made by <lj comm=lvlwings_icons> (Delicious Hot Schmoes!)
Okay, so... apparently I can write when I'm away from home.

I've had a plot bunny stalking me for a few days, and when we decided to make an excursion into Austin yesterday to hit Barnes and Noble and Book People to use our gift cards, it finally decided to attack.

I keep a notebook in my purse for writing purposes (yes, how old fashioned of me, right?) and I tried writing in the car, but you know, that didn't work so well. However, I remembered that my iPod Touch has a note writing app on it, so... I decided to try that et voila!

So... I can write when I'm not sitting here in my nice comfortable Auntie Nook where I have all this space and references, and I can look out the window and see my garden when I need distraction or to think... no, I have to be AWAY from it and... *head-desk*

Guess I'd better start looking at local options for places to write. Because, seriously, I can't keep tripping into San Marcos to hang out at the library to write! No comfortable corners there anyway.

There used to be a place here called "Java Motion" where I would go after dropping off the kids. I'd take the laptop or a notebook, buy a hot chocolate and something to nibble on, find a table in a corner near the window so I could see out on the square, and I'd spend a few hours writing. Didn't do it often, but when I did, I was always productive. They had wi-fi, so if I needed references, I could go online. It's closed last summer, and it looks like no one's going to buy the place and make a substitute. Which sucks.

The Dairy Queen here has wi-fi, but... no. No thank you. There is a library here, and while there is a nice space for writing, with at least two or three semi-private carrells, people with laptops are banished to this really crappy folding table in a very drafty hallway near the back, right by the restrooms. Not an ideal situation for writing in. And, there's a place called "The Baker's Rack" that has wi-fi, but it's small and a wee bit crowded...

Gah, why can't I write here????

On another note, the Impertinent Daughter did this rough sketch this morning, which I looked at with great amusement. She'd asked me to name a character for her to sketch, and my brain did it's usual thing of emptying of any useful content whatsoever, and I do remember grumbling something about not having enough caffeine for this before suggesting the first thing that came to mind. She, of course, shot it down immediately, so I responded with, "Roxas!" in desperation.

Which made her roll her eyes.

This is the result...

Moar Caffeine...

It's not Roxas. She said that. She said, "I don't know who this is, though it's kind of like you, kind of like me, but more like you when you're all 'I haven't had enough caffeine for this,' and all."

So, it's very like me, except I don't drink coffee because of the brain explodey thing. But, you get the idea.

So now I'm off to... um... not write. Or at least figure out where I can write. Woot. I think.
auntbijou: made by <lj comm=lvlwings_icons> (Delicious Hot Schmoes!)
So, I was baking cookies yesterday. The Impossible Son will be ten this weekend, and so rather than bringing cupcakes to school, I'm bringing cookies. It would be hypocritical of me to bring cupcakes, since those days when there's a party in his class, Mr. Impossible moves at supersonic speeds, thanks to the dyes in the icing. So, I make cookies, and the teacher usually looks happy because she gets some too, and there's usually some form of chocolate in there, so there's that.

Anyhow, the Impertinent One decided to do one of her gag fanarts for Kingdom Hearts, inspired by my baking, and by the Husbandly One's extremely friendly reaction to my baking, and... here it is...


Baking by ~angryzangoose on deviantART

What?? Does my daughter know what yaoi is? OF COURSE, SHE DOES!! I am her mother, do you think I would neglect this part of her education? PLEASE!!

*laughs*

Speaking of yaoi and Kingdom Hearts, one of the Impertinent One's friends has decided she doesn't like Kingdom Hearts anymore. Why? Because a couple of years ago, she decided to Google "yaoi," and was... traumatized, I guess, by the idea of two men being all lovey dovey with each other, which I guess means she never watches television or reads the newspaper, or is just randomly oblivious to the world...

Anyhow, the reason she doesn't like Kingdom Hearts any more is because if you take the letters in the name "Xemnas" (a character in Kingdom Hearts) and rearrange them, you get the word, "Man sex."

O_o??

Uh-huh. So... simply rearranging the letters of one character's name makes it, what... a yaoi game?? It's all about the MAN SEX, not killing a lot of Heartless and collecting all the... hearts... to make Kingdom Hearts... right... because you know, every time I play the game, I'm having such a hard time killing the Leech Grave because I keep getting distracted by Roxas getting it on with Axel over behind the wall, right?

Yeah.

Of course, I am expecting logic from a 14 year old girl who has an obsession with narwhals. In other words, she's very sheltered.

And no, I haven't defeated the Leech Grave yet, because evidently I am hopeless at video games. But I keep trying!

*blushes and edges out of the room*

Why do I even ask?

Tuesday, January 11th, 2011 12:08 am
auntbijou: made by <lj comm=lvlwings_icons> (Delicious Hot Schmoes!)
Item one: The Impertinent Daughter's coach has given her a nickname. Because her name is too hard to remember/say.

Japan.

Yes, that's her nickname. Japan. Because... she's into manga, is learning to speak Japanese, etc.

Oh, boy. So... I disciplined myself to not yell her childhood nickname at soccer games ("OMG, Mum, that is SOOO embarrassing!!") and trained myself to use her "new" nickname, which was "Cat."

Until some boys in junior high started calling her "Cat Williams" or tried to imply she was the type to sleep around, like a cat.

Uh-huh.

So now... I'm supposed to train myself out of calling her "Cat" AND the childhood nickname (which I fall into in moments of great excitement), and now start calling her "Japan?" Do I have enough brain cells left to do this??

Guess I'd better round some up, right?

Item two: When the Impertinent One was but a babe in arms, her papa and I found, to our great dismay, that the only way to calm her down when she was crying her head off was to sing... country and western songs. This would not have been so bad had we both been country and western fans. And while THO and I enjoy an eclectic mix of music... yeah. But... that wasn't the worst part. No, no, no.

The worst part was... she had two particular songs she loved and that soothed her best. "Boot Scootin' Boogie" by Brookes & Dunn, and... the cover of "My Maria," also done by Brookes & Dunn. I can remember one particular afternoon of walking in endless circles in my mom's living room, trying my best to warble out "Boot Scootin' Boogie" in a hoarse, over-used voice while trying to console my wailing, gas-inflicted child, and the Flaky Sister (back when she was still the Practical Sister) walking in and nearly suffocating herself in hysterical laughter. In retrospect, it was awfully damn funny, but at the time, I was not amused!

How this is relevant to tonight? Well, I was downloading music for the Impertinent Daughter, and on a whim, played "Boot Scootin' Boogie" for her, and she sat up, eyes wide, and shouted, "I KNOW THAT SONG!! OMIGOSH, I KNOW THAT SONG!! I don't know from where, but it's so familiar, and... I KNOW THAT SONG!!!"

I'm surprised she didn't fall over sound asleep!!

I always felt rather like Murphy Brown during those years. Poor Murphy, such a huge Motown fan, and then she has a baby who will only go to sleep if she croons Barry Manilow, whom she cannot stand, to him!

Item three: I finally broke down and bought a new coat. Therefore, when I'm sitting up in the stands freezing my ass off while watching the Impertinent One play soccer, I won't be doing it in a coat older than my marriage!!

Fun fun fun PLAY!!

Thursday, December 30th, 2010 12:46 pm
auntbijou: (Voldie Santa)
I'm trying not to be bummed. The Husbandly One was only supposed to go in for half a day of work today, but after he got there, he discovered he had to work a full day after all.

*sob*

OH well.

Let's see... Christmas... didn't post about that, did I? Well, Christmas Eve, my best friend and her family came over for dinner, and we had a great time reconnecting, and I was able to reassure myself that her oldest son was indeed whole, hearty, and did not suffer unduly during his time in Iraq... yes, yes, I know, but I was there when he was born, so he's like one of my kids, and it's not entirely logical, it's a mom-anxiety thing.

Anyhow, we had a good time, talking, laughing, eating, and reconnecting, and after they were gone, the Husbandly One talked me into letting the kids open one present.

Normally, we don't do this. And I have to admit, we have been unduly nice to the kids where presents are concerned, because we don't torture them by wrapping them up ahead of time and setting them under the tree where they are visible, and mysterious, and totally unknown for two weeks!! No, we've always kept them hidden until Christmas morning.

Of course, mostly, this was because we had a Labrador Retriever who couldn't stand seeing wrapped presents for his kids under the tree, and he would most thoughtfully unwrap them, and then start barking happily until the kids came running (and toddling) to see why...

Don't even get me started on what the Triplicats did.

So... no wrapped presents under the tree. My parents, of course, were the type who would wrap presents even before we had the tree, and start setting them out where the tree would eventually be.... just to torture us!! Then there's the Husbandly One, who wrapped my engagement ring in a small box and made it into an ornament on my parent's tree, just to torture me for two weeks, until he proposed to me in front of my entire family on Christmas Eve.

So, anyway, we put our presents under the tree Christmas Eve morning, and you'd think we had done it just to torture the Impossible Son specifically!! Heh. Anyhow, I had stood firm against opening before Christmas, but then THO said, "Look, the gifts I got you and the Impertinent One are the kind that... you should open tonight, and that's all I will say about that."

So...we each opened one present on Christmas Eve. And the Impertinent One and I both got... iPod Touches.

*SQUEE!!*

Okay, so the reason he wanted us to open them early was so we could get them set up for the trip into Houston on Christmas. Logical.

Now, the thing I have to say here is that setting up the Impertinent One's iPod was far too easy, and that should have told me something. It took 34 minutes to download the update for the thing, which should have also set my alarm bells ringing, but it only took five minutes to download music and a couple of videos into it, and she was done, off to her room to explore it and squee over it.

It took less than a minute to download the update for mine. But... it took fifteen hours for me to set my iPod up.

No, I'm serious. Techno-geek that I am, the thing frustrated the crap out of me, and I had THO hovering around behind me, determined that it was busted, broken, didn't work, etc. and I just needed to give up on the damn thing and let him return it.

I knew that whatever the problem was, it was ME, not the iPod, and I just needed to keep playing with it to figure it out. And when I did, it was one of those, "D'oh!" kind of things, where you can't believe you were so stupid, but then again, why was loading this thing so much more complicated than loading a Shuffle??

Anyhow, finally got the thing working, and I was a very happy camper.

And no, we didn't go to Houston. Mainly because Mr. Impossible woke up with a very nasty, very juicy cough, and knowing that he usually has a nasty, very juicy cough when we're leaving Houston, we decided not to push things toward, oh, I dunno... pneumonia, perhaps?

So, we stayed home.

And, let's see, on Tuesday night, the Impertinent One was working on a drawing at the kitchen table while listening to her new iPod, gets up to go get an eraser from her room, comes right back, and her iPod is off. Fine, she thinks it's in sleep mode, so she presses the menu button and... nothing. She presses the power button, and... nothing. It still had half a charge left, so she brought it to me, I plugged it into the computer and... nothing. She plugged it into her charger, and ... nothing. It was deader than a doornail.

Turns out some of the functions it had hadn't been working so well, either. Oooookay, well, THO had it insured through Best Buy, so we took it in yesterday to have it looked at... and ended up exchanging it for a new one because... it was deader than a doornail.

So, when we get home, she goes to the Mac to set it up, the update takes less than a minute, and I leave her to set it up, only to have to come back running when I hear her wail, "NO, WAIT, WHY ARE YOU DOWNLOADING MUSIC??? I HAVEN'T MADE A PLAYLIST YET!!!"

Wow, did that sound familiar!

Since I had already figured this out, it only took a couple of tries to get things working properly, and now she has a fully functional iPod that everything works on just fine. Heh.

Let's see... what else... oh, yeah, we went and saw "Voyage of the Dawn Treader" at our local theater, using the movie passes we'd won last month. And it was better than I expected. What really made it fun, though, was how excited the Impossible Son was, because he'd just finished reading the book recently. I was glad they'd stuck a little closer to the book this time, if only for his sake, because he didn't get scared or upset when things got scary (YES, my son, knowledge IS power!!), and when it did deviate from the book, he looked at me and said, "I totally get it now, Mom."

"Totally get what?" I asked, distracted.

"Why you get so upset when a movie isn't like the book. Why sometimes, the book is so much better." He nodded. "I get it now."

I nodded. "Yep. So, what do you do now?"

"Let go of the book," he said with a grin.

That's my boy!!

I'm sure there's vastly more stuff, but really, how much of the minutia of my life do you want here?

I'm going to pull out my DVD of The Quiet Man, make some popcorn, and settle in to warp my kids some more. Heh.
auntbijou: (Voldie Santa)
It's been a busy week. I got to argue with Dr. Endocrinologist about my thyroid medication. The dosage was lowered during my last visit because my levels were too high (????) and not even three days after the dosage change, my hair started falling out again, I was experiencing Personal Antarcticas again, my skin was drying out... oh, yeah, I was a totally happy camper, don't you know? I especially enjoyed the falling asleep at the drop of a hat part, yeah, that was fun. Not.

And after all that hair grew back in again, too! Damn it! Now I'm going to have weird short tufts sticking up when it starts growing back in again! *grumble grumble*

So, basically, Dr. E. had a very grumpy, snarly, and very determined Auntie in his office. He laid out all the risks of increasing my dosage, with increased risk of bone fractures, heart palpitations, and laid them next to the hair loss, the fatigue, the dry skin, the cold flashes, the weight gain (I had lost over twenty pounds and gained them all back!!), the hair loss, the sleep disruptions, the hair loss, the lack of appetite, and did I mention the hair loss??

He's increased my dosage back to where it was, thank you very much!

The rest of the week was spent on frantic bouts of last minute shopping for the walking stomachs kids, who seem to be outgrowing or wearing out everything they own all at the same time. I had to get it done before noon today, because... it's kind of hard to shop for the kids and have the stuff you buy be a surprise if they're with you. Plus, the Husbandly One will be off for the next two weeks as well, since business slows down at this time of the year. Which is totally awesome, but makes me wistful, because I miss the years where we'd have a couple of days to ourselves before school let out for winter break. Heh.

I think this is the first time I've sat down in three days!

THO, of course, is feeling rather stressed right now. Let's just say that [personal profile] koshweasley isn't the only one feeling screwed by his employer at the moment. No, THO still has his job, he's just... not terribly happy at the moment. His boss makes the Grinch look like a happy, cheerful, and entirely generous sort of fellow.

*more grumbling with occasional snarls thrown in*

Oh, I almost forgot one of the funny things that happened this week. Soccer practice has started in earnest for the Impertinent Daughter (she made the high school junior varsity team, YAY!). This means she has to go to two different campuses; the freshman campus for her classes, and the high school for athletics. This week, they were taking their midterms, which meant their schedules were... well... nuts. I mean, come on, y'all have heard me bitch about this school district, so you know it's going to be chaotic, right?

Normally, a bus runs between the freshman campus and the high school for this purpose, but... the schedule was, as I mentioned, chaotic. Meaning the Impertinent Daughter's class was letting out a little late for her to catch the bus for the high school. The bell rings at 3:42, the bus leaves at 3:45, and they had to be at practice by 4. Sounds simple, right?

*snort*

Three minutes is plenty of time to run to your locker, switch out your stuff, and haul ass out to the bus. I even told her that. "Hell, you're a soccer player! Hauling ass is normal for you!"

Except... her group was taking a TAKS diagnostic as part of their mid-terms. Which meant they got out at a little closer to 3:50.

So, on Tuesday, I had three teenage girls in my minivan, along with the Impossible Son, and let me tell you something right now. Teenage girl pong is just as bad as teenage boy pong.

*wrinkles nose*

Eeeeurgh!!! My eyes were watering!! and the only reason I didn't fling open the windows right away was because all three girls were changing into their practice gear on the way. In fact, I think the only reason one particular group of boys aren't road-kill is because the bus driver who nearly plowed them was paying attention to driving.

They were too busy staring open-mouthed at my car while the Impertinent One whipped off her shirt and tugged on her jersey, much to my astonishment (and theirs), and I had to remind her that while our windows are tinted, the front windows aren't that tinted, and they could still see her. They couldn't see anything beyond her shoulders and bra straps, because she had her back to them, but still!! It was an amazingly weird experience to be driving along with clothes and soccer gear flying all over the car, the Impossible Son in the rear seat wailing about his eyes burning and oh, gods, can we open a window, Mom, pleeeease???, and all with Japanese ska playing in the background.

Surreal doesn't even cover it.

And just to wrap up my week in total, I managed to get about five pages written today that didn't suck. Now, if I can just keep it going! Somebody grab me the Anti-Writer's Block spray!!
auntbijou: made by <lj comm=lvlwings_icons> (Delicious Hot Schmoes!)
The Impertinent Daughter has informed me that the Impossible Son is NOT, I repeat, NOT her Knight in Shiny Armor.

No.

He is her Knight of Ni.

You have all been informed.
auntbijou: made by <lj comm=lvlwings_icons> (Delicious Hot Schmoes!)
There are many challenges to being a parent, not the least of which are those moments when your child does or says something that somewhere in the back of your mind, there's a niggle telling you that you really should reprimand him or her, but the rest of you is so caught up in either hilarity or admiration that you... just... can't quite manage it. Not without giving yourself away.

Or you don't know whether to scold... or applaud.

Tomorrow is the Impertinent Daughter's high school's homecoming game. For the uninitiated among you, Homecoming (and yes, it's usually capitalized like that) is usually held during football season for one specific game, and is ostensibly the game where the school's alumni is welcomed back. There is often a dance afterwards at the school gym, and a Homecoming Queen and King are elected by the students, along with their court, and theoretically at least, a good time is had by all.

There are also mums. HERE are some examples. Originally, they were these huge, ginormous, sometimes bigger than your head chrysanthemums, with ribbons that had your name, your date's name, the year, your school name, etc. written on them. Plus, there would be ribbons with charms on them, like miniature cowbells meant to jingle sweetly as you walk, little miniature football helmets, footballs, miniature school mascots, and so on. Nowadays, the mums are artificial, mostly silk, and you only get real ones if you're willing to spend megabucks on them.

With me so far?

Okay, so... the boy responsible for THIS got a mutual friend to ask Her Royal Impertinence to Homecoming. This friend, the Wombat (yes, that's his nickname, it's totally my fault, and I'm just lucky he likes it), asked her and was surprised when she said, "Oh, hell, no! no way!"

"Why not?" asked the Wombat, surprised.

She said she laughed and said, "Well, if he'd asked me face to face, instead of getting you to ask me for him, I would have respected him a bit more while I beat him up."

I completely lost it at that point. I was laughing so hard, I nearly wrecked the car!!

Of course, the Responsible Adult inside my brain was saying something ridiculous like, "That was very rude of her, and she should never be encouraged to beat someone up! She probably hurt that poor boy's feelings!!"

*snorts*

Fortunately, the rest of me quickly stifled the quasi-Responsible Adult, and not only died laughing again, but celebrated my daughter's independence and strength of character. She's got friends who have "dated" boys (they were only in junior high, so "dating" mainly meant they hung around together, held hands, and tried not to look too embarrassed by it), simply because the boy asked them, not because they liked them or anything. Because some of their friends told them that having the boy ask them at all obligated them to say yes.

Excuse me??

No, you don't have to go out with a boy just because he asked you, or because you don't want to hurt his feelings, or because you're "obligated" by his asking. You have as much right to say "No" as you do "Yes." If you don't want to go out with him, say so. If you don't like him... don't go out with him.

*rolls eyes*

Of course, once I calmed down from my laughter, I did offer some motherly advice:

"If you're going to beat him up, dear, please don't do it on the school grounds. It might get you suspended and your father would be inappropriately proud wouldn't be too happy about that."

The Husbandly One and I ordered mums this year. One is from us, and the other is from the Impossible Son. He gave it to her after they got home from school today. When I handed it to him, I said, "Son, you get the honor of being the first boy to give your sister a mum."

He frowned. "Is that important?"

"Yes," I said very solemnly. "It is. And it's very special, because you're her brother. You're her Knight in Shiny Armor, Protector of all Sisterly Honor, and Official Tormentor of all who come to court her. Are you ready to take up your duties, Sir Impossible?"

"I am," he said very solemnly, and then he giggled.

"Go for it," I said, and watched him give her the mum.

She was grumpy when we first got home, so I was honestly worried that she'd snarl at him when he gave it to her, but... she rose to the occasion magnificently. In fact, her whole face lit up, and she got that million megawatt smile going. She looked at it, squeed at the little soccer balls on it, then snagged him for a fierce hug and kiss on top of his fuzzy little head.

It was awesome!

Later, she cornered me in the kitchen and asked, "Mum, what do I tell my friends when they ask me who gave it to me?"

"You tell them your Little Bother gave it to you," I said with a grin, and the concern in her face just melted away.

"Yeah," she said happily. "I'll say, 'my Little Bother gave it to me, stop asking questions!' and walk away."

I laughed. "Just tell them your Little Bother gave it to you because he's cool like that."

Later, my friend, the Tall Blonde came by with the mum her papa and I are giving her (the Tall Blonde was returning a favor) and she was thrilled at the idea of having two mums to wear for Homecoming!! I'll have to take pictures in the morning!

All of it just made me think about what a challenge it is to make sure the little monsterskids we raise today turn out to be adults capable of making decisions and standing up for themselves while not destroying the world around them. It's a tough job. How to you balance teaching them to be polite and considerate of the feelings of others with keeping themselves safe and not letting other people treat them like door mats? How do you teach them the difference between not making a snap judgement about someone and listening to their own intuition? How do you teach them how to be constructively rude?

It's all a work in progress, really, and I'm making it up as I go along. Fortunately, neither the Impertinent Daughter nor the Impossible Son seem to be the worse for wear. At the moment, I'm just happy my girl didn't cave to the pressure of going out with someone she can't stand, just because he asked her.

It gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, I'm doing something right.
auntbijou: (Devilish)
Remember this?

Yes... the Sage Sausage.

Well, the Impertinent Daughter and I were giggling over that just now, and I won't go into the entire conversation, but it ended with me saying, "Wouldn't it be awesome to have an icon with Spock saying something like, "I find your descriptions of my member as a 'sage sausage' to be highly inaccurate. It's more of a chartreuse."

Of course, we died laughing immediately afterwards!!

*snickers*

Sage sausage... chartreuse... BWAAAAAA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-HAHAHAHAHA-HAHAHA-HEEEEEE!!!!

*wheeze*
auntbijou: (Dancing Snape)
Look at what Miss Priss did last night!!!

Don't even ask me how long she spent inking this before coloring it!!

Pretty...

Every time I think I've seen everything she can do, she stuns me again!

*is blown away*

Afterwards, she said she completely understands the complaints shojo-manga artists make in the little asides they sometimes include in their manga. She said, "I have a new respect for them now, and so does my poor, aching hand!!"

She said she was inspired by the cover of Gackt's "Kokuama Heaven" single, so if this looks familiar...

Speaking of Gackt, look [personal profile] karadin! Look what she did for me!!

Gakupo, by Cat

GAKUPO!!!!
auntbijou: (Default)
Thought y'all would get a kick of my daughter's point of view when I'm playing games on my DSLite. Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days in particular.

kids  funny stuff

See, my main character, Roxas, doesn't always do what I want him to do, and... for some reason, he seems to spontaneously burst into flames... even when there is no fire even remotely around. I mean, I've used no fire spells, none of the Heartless he is fighting are using fire spells, he just... bursts into flame.

Personally, I think he's depressed because he has such an inept player controlling him, but I could be wrong.

However, I am getting better, though right now I'm stuck trying to kill the ... er... Leech Grave or Leach Grave, I'm not sure which, but it's a nasty one that... well, it'll probably take me about four or five weeks to figure out how to kill it. *sigh*

However, I am vastly entertained whenever I switch to Mission Mode to have Donald Duck as my character, and watch him waddle/hop through Twilight Town to whack Heartless with his magical staff with a "Waaa-Whoa!!" and then watch him throw a temper tantrum of epic proportions when he gets hit back!!

It's a good thing I play solo in Mission mode, because I spend most of my time snickering and giggling and putting poor Donald in dangerous situations just to watch the mad hopping up and down and the furious Donald Duck cursing he does!!

Hee!!

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