astronauts

just like many of my other posts, the material for this one happened purely by accident. surely, i can't make up the nonsense that goes on in my house...nor would i want to. whenever i feel like i'm going to run out of stuff to write about, another incident happens. (such as the one that follows.) i was making dinner yesterday...and by "making" i mean heating up some broccoli from the night before and pulling a pork loin out of the crockpot. (good god i love my crockpot.) i was also cutting up some strawberries for the kids as a side, since i always try to throw a fruit in there for them...it makes me feel better about their meals. here's some mac and cheese...and some strawberries. (take that, food pyramid.) anyways, as i said, i was making dinner and the kids were running around the kitchen slash living room (it's a big loop). carrie had found an empty 12 pack soda can box next to the recycle bin and started playing with it. this was shortly after she had pulled every tupperware container out of the cupboard and also had a mixing bowl on top of her head. ella was sashaying around (pretending to be a princess) and happened to catch a glimpse of her sister. she's pretty good about sharing (carrie, not so much), but shortly after their encounter...i heard screams and ran around the corner to see this:

434 toys in the house...but let's fight over an empty soda can box. (whygodwhy?) after i broke up the tug of war, which i'm pretty sure ella (look at her face) only started just to get carrie wound up...i yelped, something about if "they couldn't share, i was just going to take the box and no one would play with it!" (oh my god, i'm turning into my mother.) then, ella said, "can't you just cut it in half and we can both have one?" in theory, this sounded like an excellent idea. i was so chalking it up to a parenting win (and wanted to do it)...but i didn't know how the short chunky one (who doesn't use any words) was going to feel about me taking a knife to her beloved box. i held up the knife (that i was using on the strawberries) and explained i was going to cut the box in two. carrie nodded her head yes, so i proceeded. (had she screamed like a nutball, i would've refrained.) the two of them were looking up at me like i was magical. i'm cutting a coke box in two...and now qualify for mother of the year. (yes!) i handed them each half and christmas came early at my house. carrie immediately put it on her head like a hat and ella decided that the box was now a pair of binoculars. she quickly said, "carrie, hurry! we gotta go lookin' for birds!" they ran around the living room for about 15 minutes hunting for (imaginary) birds...carrie in her hat, ella with her binoculars. here's a visual:

butch still hadn't come home from work...so we had some more time to kill before dinner. they got kinda tired with the bird watcher bit, so i took the boxes and cut some more holes. ella instantly put it over her head and said, "heeyyyyy i'm an astronaut now! come on carrie! let's go to the moon!" as i put the finishing touches on dinner (by making some instant rice...so fancy), they ran around like they were at space camp. ella got up in the bay window and was pretending like she was in a rocket ship. she was "counting down" saying "4, 10, 1, 18, 34....BLASTOFF!" (close enough.) carrie was just laughing her head off acting like she knew what was going on, but really i'm not so sure. all i know is, she was having fun. (giggles galore.) when butch finally blew through the door, he said, "ooooo robots!" (to the kids) when he saw them. ella quickly corrected him and said that they were, "ASTRONAUTS!" then he came around the corner to me and said, "why the hell do our children have boxes on their heads?" (haha!) i explained. as we sat down to dinner, ella was pissed she had to take off her helmet to eat. carrie didn't care about taking it off, cause food was involved. the kid loves food. (food > everything else)

more and more, our world is slipping into an age where technology rules. an age where technology is taking over, actually. an age where toys (for both adults and children, alike) are getting more and more expensive. in my short 8 years of teaching, i've seen many (many) children that are completely (for the lack of a better word)...spoiled. there is a certain sense of entitlement that comes with getting everything that you want as a kid, and i believe a certain lack of respect for adults starts to happen. (i see it on a daily basis in my school.) i already stated that my own children have 434 toys (give or take) in our house...so i'm not stating they they aren't spoiled to a certain degree. (they are.) but here's the thing...it doesn't have to be that way! in the end...you throw an empty soda can box at them and they are good to go. kids have fierce imaginations and will find stuff to play with. they figure it out. moreover, they are entertained by less than you think they are. how the hell do you think i keep 17 five year olds occupied for 6 hours a day? i certainly don't throw an iPad at each of them. i'm not dressing up in a goddamn clownsuit and making balloon animals, either. so with christmas around the corner, you may have a million dollars to spend on your kids or nothing...in the end, it really doesn't matter. yes, it's nice to be able to get your kids what they want...but even if they have 434 toys, they may just want to play with a box. (exhibit a, above.)

after ella got out of the bathtub, she came downstairs and immediately asked to put her astronaut helmet back on. (carrie just wanted a cookie.) she stood up in the bay window as we put lights on the christmas tree. butch was giving me hell about, "who would tie KNOTS in the LIGHTS!?" (i don't know, warren.) after the kids both went to bed, i went up about 8pm to (finally) get a shower. i stepped out of the bathroom, into the bedroom...just in time to hear the smoke alarm start blaring. (HOLY GOD!)  i ran down the steps in my towel and made the executive decision to rip it off and fan the fire alarm with it...just as butch flew around the corner whisper yelling, "SORRY! SORRY! I'M MAKING BOILO! I'M MAKING BOILO!" i smelled something burning...and there was smoke. i yelled (no need to whisper yell, the alarm is blaring), "IS IT ON FIRE!?!" he was frantically trying to get the (wrong) alarm off of the ceiling and made no mention to the fact that i was stark naked using my bath towel to disarm the other one. (par for the course.) after the (LOUD) beeping stopped and i was able to get dressed (dear lord.), i went back downstairs and he said that there "seemed to be" an overflow of boilo and it caused some smoke...hence setting the alarm off. (oh really.) i shook my head and said he better get me some as soon as it was done. bypass the ball jar and put it straight in a glass, butch! if sally ride and her sister would've woken up, i would've given him hell for the "boilo overflow." (daddy was just making moonshine, honey...go back to bed.)

as i sipped my boilo on the couch next to the christmas tree, we watched national lampoon's christmas vacation for the 287th time. (never gets old.) i suddenly realized why i enjoy that movie so much...the chaos in our house actually competes with the chaos in that movie. (not only is it funny, i can totally relate.) can you see (coal region) clark setting his kitchen ablaze due to a batch of boilo gone wrong? (i can.) so as we blow into week one of the holiday season, i know that the calm during thanksgiving was just a precursor to the christmas storm. i plan on treading lightly through the next couple of weeks...mostly so my house doesn't burn down or some shit like that. i don't know how long the soda can box astronaut helmets are going to be a hit, but i do know they were quite fun for at least an evening....much better than any ipod or vtech in the eyes of my children. oh, and if you were trying to figure out what type of soda box that is...it's diet dr. perky. (generic dr. pepper, people.) my husband got it on sale at the store this week. (of course.) coke and pepsi are for the rich folk...we coupon cutting commoners drink dr. perky and then our children wear the boxes on their heads. 20 days left til christmas and only the strong shall survive. fingers crossed we make it across the finish line, house (and sanity) intact.