PractiGal

M-I-C.....

.... K-E-Y....

Alright. This is NOT Disneyworld, so WHY are there

M-O-U-S-E

droppings in my kitchen?

There aren't a lot of things that make me skittish. But rodents do. And rodent droppings really do. Where's he hiding? Is there more than one? Why the hell didn't the world's most obnoxiously friendly feline -- who's as aggressive with critters as he is with affection -- take care of things while we were away? Or did the mice take safe haven in our empty house to get away from the neighborhood cat?

I've set traps. Hopefully my husband will be home to tend to them once they're full. Because I do not touch occupied mouse traps. Ever.

GAH!

Off to sanitize my kitchen. This suit should do, don't you think?

No longer vacating!

I don't know if you can call 9 days on the road with a 3-year-old a "vacation," but for lack of a better word, that's what I'll call it.

We returned home from "vacation" yesterday afternoon. And while we had some fun and all, I must say there's no place like home.

Home: where you're not sharing a 10x10 motel room with 2 other people.

Home: where you have multiple Internet connections and don't have to elbow each other to get at the computer.

Home: where you have more than one toilet.

Home: where you have your own full-size refrigerator, washing machine, dishwasher, etc. (Yes, I guess I am spoiled!)

I think we are all glad to be home. I've never seen my son so engrossed in every single one of his 5 million little toys, as he was upon our arrival home. It was a grand reunion, indeed. Every single one of his millions of toys was spread across the living room floor within minutes of our return.

As much as it drove me nuts to travel hundreds of miles with my son, I have to say that he is really really good at entertaining himself. Thank goodness. There were 2-way dialogs coming from the backseat for most of our trip, and there was only one child back there. And interestingly, despite the fact that our Philadelphia visit was brief (less than 24 hours), the little guy mysteriously acquired a Philly accent! which stuck with him for our entire trip. Lots of talk of "baoats" (boats). HUH?

Anyway.

I have lots of pictures and stories to share. I might need to set up a Flickr account.

For starters, here's one from our first stop after Philly: this was taken in Strasburg, PA, in Pennsylvania Dutch country, near Lancaster. We visited the incredible Railroad Museum of PA and had lunch on this restored old dining car, which was pulled by a steam engine. I don't know who enjoyed it more -- Dad or son! Or Mom, watching both of them enjoy it soooo much.

We definitely plan to return to PA Dutch country someday. 24 hours wasn't enough time to see and do all that we'd have liked to see and do...

On the road / AKA The Great Tour of Restrooms of the Mid-Atlantic States

We’ve been on the road since Saturday, in sort of a vagabond fashion, spending each of our first three nights in different cities. What I’ll remember most of this trip isn’t necessarily the places we’ve taken in, though we’ve seen some wonderful sights (and even met a favorite blogger along the way!*). I’ll remember that this is the summer we became connoisseurs of the public restroom.

“I just have to go pee-pee,” says the quiet voice in the back seat.

What’s that honey?

“I JUST HAVE TO GO PEE-PEE!”

Alrighty then. Traveling hundreds of miles with the newly toilet-trained is an adventure, to say the least. All suitcases and backpacks are stocked with wipes, pull-ups, clean underoos, a change of clothes and hand sanitizer. Lots and lots of hand sanitizer. If you could earn a girl scout badge in toilet preparedness, I’m pretty sure I’d have it in the bag by now.

And let’s not even get into the heated discussion my husband and I had about prune juice on Day One of our travels. Let’s just say that it finally passed, and leave it at that.

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* When our rocket touched down in the Philly area, we got to meet Sarcasmom! She came to our hotel with some of the Sarcas Family. We even got to meet her grandson, the famed Cutie Patootie (CP), who's even cuter in person! Star and family graciously drove across town and brought us a bunch of yummy authentic soft pretzels (the real deal in Philly). She’s just as delightful in person as you’d imagine from reading her blog. We didn’t get to visit for long, but I am glad that we got to meet in person! My son has been referring to her as "that nice lady".... and that she is!

The simple life

Oh to be content with a little fire hydrant, a toy dust-buster, and a piece of plastic lettuce!

Random nonsense

Somehow I am adding to my to-do list at a rate that exceeds my ability to complete and cross things off.

How can this be? Isn't there a law of nature that says this shouldn't happen? Who can I speak to about this?

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In an apparent moment of clairvoyance, I entered a dollar store, where I was struck with a revelation: we don't really need any more crap treasures today. But rather than leave the store empty-handed, I found just the right little bin for the treasures we keep in the car for the little guy.

That's progress, right?

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As I wrote out payment for a bill that has to be paid the old-fashioned way with an envelope and stamp, I was cursing the company for being so behind the times and not taking electronic payments or doing automatic debit, or something! How could they be so behind the times? I mean this is 2007 - the electronic age, right? Come on! Get with the program.

And then it dawned on me. The two payments I sent out yesterday went out with the old 39-cent stamps on them.

One of these days, I'll get with the program!

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The good news is that I'm discovering my inner artiste. Ever since the big potty training day, I've been drawing a little, each day. Bet you didn't know I was an artist, huh?  One of my recent pieces is below...

Good for the soul, indeed!

My friend Sue sent me this story, as a follow-up to my experience. I love it!  
Thanks Susan Lynn!

Last week I took my children to a restaurant. My six-year-old son asked if he could say grace. As we bowed our heads he said, "God is good. God is great. Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if Mom gets us ice cream for dessert. And Liberty and justice for all! Amen!"  Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby I heard a woman remark, "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray. Asking God for ice-cream! Why, I never!"

Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it wrong? 
Is God mad at me?" As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific
job and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached
the table.  He winked at my son and said, "I happen to know that God thought 
that was a great prayer. "

"Really?" my son asked.

"Cross my heart," the man replied. Then in a theatrical whisper he added 
(indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing),
 "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the 
soul sometimes." Naturally, I bought my kids ice cream at the end of the 
meal. My son stared at his for a moment and then did something I  will
remember the rest of my life. He picked up his sundae and without 
a word, walked over and placed it in front of the woman; With a big smile
he told her, "Here, this is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul 
sometimes; and my soul is good already."

 

Conehead

To the lady who glared at me while my son was mid-tantrum at the ice cream shop today:

I'm hoping you're not a grandmother. Or a mother. Because anyone who's "been there, done that" would surely offer a sympathetic look, rather than the icy one you threw my way.

Sorry my son interrupted your ice cream cone with his screaming and crying. As you probably noticed, I needed to use the restroom before leaving, and my son did not want to go with me. But he had to. He's 3, so he's not old enough to stay out in a restaurant alone with nasty people like you.

And then there was the prize machine by the door. He wanted a prize, and I said no. He threw a fit. So as I wrestled his kicking and screaming 38-pound body out of the store, I looked your way for a nod of understanding, compassion,... something. You offered none. Au contraire. You were clearly disgusted. Maybe with the tantrum. Maybe with the fact that I was not yelling at him or hitting him to punish him. Because that would have made things so much better. Right?

There's nothing more frustrating for a parent than having to deal with a public tantrum. Well, except for dealing with looks of disapproval and disdain from complete strangers.

May your cone drip all over your neatly pressed blouse.

Does anybody know Raymond?

Have you ever had your e-mail address wires crossed with someone else? Not in a spam way – more of a wrong phone number way.

It started last week for me. I got an e-mail confirming a Harry Potter movie ticket purchase. Which I did not make. Hmm. It was made by someone with the same name as me – first and last. I brushed it off as just bizarreness.

Then yesterday I got this e-mail:

Hi Marie,

Colleen's planning something for my mom on Sunday. Before I call Robert one way or the other (so that we can get our stories straight), what do you think?

Raymond

I had a few questions after reading this:
Colleen Who? Robert Who? And who the hell are YOU, Raymond?

Then moments later, I received this one:

Hi honey!

Could you schedule an appt. with the eye doctor for me? Here's my available times:

Monday, July 23: 3:30 or later

Tuesday, July 24: 3:30 or later

Friday, July 27: Anytime that day

Thursday, August 2: 4:00 or later

Thursday, August 2: 4:00 or later

Monday, August 6: 3:30 or later

Tuesday through Friday, August 7 through 10: Anytime. I'll be on vacation, though, so let's keep this as a last resort. :)

Thanks mucho! Love ya'!

Raymond

OK. My husband’s name is not Raymond. In fact, other than a 9-year-old neighbor boy, I can’t think of a single Raymond that I know. Clearly this dude thinks he’s e-mailing his wife.

So I responded to Raymond.

Hi there Raymond,

Dude. I’m not your wife.

But this is my e-mail address, so have a nice day! And I hope you ace your eye exam!”

Marie

Or something like that.

Oddly enough, I just made an eye exam appointment for my own husband. Maybe Raymond will show up for the appointment too!

Update on Friday the 13th

Life's exceptionally hectic right now, Chez PractiGal. So naturally, I'm ignoring the blog! I'm keeping up with y'all thanks to the little Google Reader box on my homepage though. Love that thing!

Random updates and such:

• It seems like I'm not much of a beef burger person anymore. I hardly ever eat them (we use ground turkey at home), but in an effort to save time today, I picked up a burger at a local drive-thru at lunchtime. Now my stomach says "WHY? Why did you do that?"
• I stopped at the drive-thru on my way home from the gym. Yes, I'm aware of the irony. Lesson learned.
• Have you seen Tater Mitts? I had a good laugh watching the infomercial as I pedaled away at the gym. Where does one store Tater Mitts? One more thing to find a place for... no thank you. I'll stick with my peeler. Pretty clever idea though, really. Hairy gloves.
• I think I'd enjoy acting in an infomercial. Not that I'm an actress or anything. I just think it would be fun to over-act as they do for these spots.
• I'm sold on the 1-day potty training thing. At least it worked here. It's been a week since there's been an accident.
• We have a new camera! YAY! I can't wait to play with it this weekend.
• Why is it that I can think of 1200 updates before I sit down, and then when I look at my little posting window, I can think of 3?
• I received an e-mail confirmation for tickets purchased for the Harry Potter movie. Only thing is, the digits listed as part of the credit card used to buy them weren't mine. Good thing! Because I didn't buy any movie tickets. In fact, I can't even remember the last time I watched a movie in a theater!
• Well, look at that! It's Friday, and it's the 13th! Happy birthday to my nephew, L! He's 6! WOW!
• Happy weekend, y'all!

Beep beep beep! This just in...

OK, so last week when I was fretting about the potty training thing (yes, I will talk about other things soon! I promise), I mentioned that I e-mailed the author of the book I was using, looking for a pep talk...

Well, today the author CALLED ME! For real. I told her that I did the potty party thing on Sunday, and that it worked. (Yesterday, there was one minor accident, and none so far today. Yeah. I think I can say on Day 5 that it looks like it WORKED!)

Anyway, Teri Crane invites you to contact her if you're struggling with the one-day potty party idea. E-mail her! She will call you back! She's really busy right now, with so many parents up against the preschool deadline (like me), so it might take her a bit to get back to you. But she will! How cool is that?

And there may be a testimonial on this concept from yours truly in a local parenting magazine later this year!