April 17, 2008

Feathers Friday (on Thursday) - Olympic Version

The Olympic torch relay has been marred by crowds, protests over human rights, and general pandemonium. That describes the Glamore house on a daily basis, but we don’t have the huge flames, publicity and the massive police presence. I’m able to handle all of the above solo, through sometimes I resort to calling Bill at work so he can make threatening noises at the boys over the phone, but that’s only in rare instances.

The boys have read about the relay in the paper and seen the riots on TV. I’ve fielded many questions about Tibet with my usual skill (”That’s a marvelous question. You should ask Mrs. Rogers about that.”)

The topic has died down somewhat in the last couple of days. Finn is still limping about the house with a splint stabilizing his right ankle until we find out whether he is suffering from a bout of hypochondria or a small fracture. As far as his symptoms go, in general he is able to play drums and wall ball, but feels weak when asked to fold laundry or unload the dishwasher.

Drew continues to use his thirty minutes of television a day watching SpongeBob, wearing one of his two SpongeBob t-shirts (one red, one yellow). Then he’ll join the game of wall ball, muttering “fishpaste!” or “Krabby patties!” when he misses the ball. Later it’s time to read the Hardy Boys, and he shows no signs of deviating from his intense focus. I do believe he’ll read all one hundred and something books, and I’ll continue to explain what “dungarees” and “jalopys” and other words straight from the 1950’s mean, and the tragic aspect is that this knowledge will not help him on the SATs at all.

Porter, of course, has his own idea of fun, and usually that involves Feathers. He and Feathers reenacted the torch relay here in the house, although I was able to convince him to slow from a sprint into a stately walk for Feathers’s sake.

Porter was kind enough to let Feathers get her footing as she prepared to act as the flame.

And then the torch relay began.

Our torch made me thankful for our country, for the patience of parakeets and happy (for once) that Porter hordes paper towel innards along with all the other crap in his closet.

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One year ago in My Tiny Kingdom: Days Before Doorknob 

(Days Before Doorknob is also available as a podcast in the player on the left sidebar)

March 26, 2008

Depraved Boys

It all started out innocently enough.

I hardboiled a bowl of eggs.

I made lots of dye. The boys got to work.

Porter, of course, dipped his allotted eggs in every color, and made gray eggs.

Drew concentrated.

Finn worked hard, too.

Their eggs were masterpieces, comparatively speaking.

The next morning the chocolate bunnies arrived.

Finn cut a hole in the back of his with a pocketknife while I marveled at his dexterity. I started to picture myself as the mother of an MD.

The hole seemed really big to me, and I felt uneasy.

Then things took a nasty turn. The boys stuffed jelly beans, which they called “‘roids,” into the bunny’s back.

They wanted to make him HUMUNGOUS.

Looks like Finn wants to be a steroid pusher, not a doctor.

What is baseball teaching our children??

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One year ago in My Tiny Kingdom: Potty-Training Nomad Style 

January 24, 2008

Apeshit, And Deservedly So

In Alabama, when the weatherman mentions even a minuscule chance of flurries the entire population goes nuts. The stereotype is that we all head to the store for bread and milk, but in fact a savvy snow-shopper purchases grits, cheese and crackers, lemons and limes and plenty of wine, beer and hot chocolate.

I have no qualms in admitting that I lead the pack in going bonkers when there’s a possibility of frozen precipitation. It touches something primal within me, and I picture the family together, snuggling in front of the fire, sipping drinks and playing board games. Then it’s time to head outside and build snowmen, sled (requires at least 1/4 an inch of snow), watch the males throw snowballs (no hitting Mom or I won’t show you how to make snow ice cream) and then back inside to warm up. Repeat as needed, proceeding from hot chocolate to wine to gimlets as the day progresses.

Last week we planned to go to Auburn for MLK weekend, but as the chance of snow seemed more likely, I warned Bill that I certainly would not be heading south if that meant I’d miss the most exciting weather event in a decade.

By Thursday night, weatherman James Spann’s hysteria level was approaching my own, and he released a map

that indicated we’d be half a centimeter from the swath predicted to receive three to five inches of snow if we journeyed to the country house, but a centimeter and a half away if we stayed in Birmingham.  We decided to plan to go to Auburn, but stay if the forecast made a sudden change.

We pray with our boys nightly, but that night we were even more imbued with the Holy Spirit than usual. I don’t mean to give Jesus short shrift, but we pray about him all the time, and sometimes it feels pretty rote. The last time we prayed for snow with a good chance of having that prayer answered was eight years ago, and it was thrilling to switch up the bedtime prayers a bit.

Friday, James’s certainty that some part of the state would be blanketed with white didn’t waver, and the snow swath hadn’t moved.

“You go, dude!” I screamed at the TV. “Come on, snow! Bring on the Gulf moisture and Arctic air!” I did a few high kicks and Jazzercise hip rolls for emphasis.  The boys looked at the screen unmoved.  They’ve seen green rain and red and yellow tornadoes on the weather map, but the area of pink and white meant nothing to them, no matter how much I sang “Snow, glorious snow!”

We loaded up the minivan and headed to Gold Hill.

The snow was supposed to start around noon Saturday, but I looked out the window just before ten and saw huge, puffy flakes falling through the pecan trees.

Finn had seen snow once before, but Drew and Porter had not. They spent a few minutes inspecting the snowflakes, catching them and watching them melt, checking out those that landed on the ground, and staring into the sky and letting snow fall directly onto their faces.

Then, realizing that the snow wasn’t going to last forever, they began an assembly line to collect it.

Finn came up with the idea to save it in the white trash can, but long-time readers will have no trouble guessing which twin carted all the other crap out of the shed and set up a “system” so the snow could be “processed” before it was packed away for safekeeping.

Drew served Elvis his very own snowball.

You’ll recall that the other Mrs. Glamore never throws anything away, so no one blinked an eye when she marched into the shed and pulled out three rudderless water skis, circa 1950, which the boys turned into snowboards.

Other women may not be satisfied with just an inch, but it was more than enough snow for me.

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Two years ago in My Tiny Kingdom: I’ve Come A Long Way, Baby

January 7, 2008

OCD New Year

If the Internet silence alarmed you, fear not! For I bring tidings of obsessive-compulsive cleaning and disposing to celebrate the New Year:

With the boys’ unwilling “help,” I completely emptied, scrubbed, and rearranged the pantry.

Unload those shelves more quickly, Finn! Fish sauce and other Asian items go on the table, STAT!

Pantry guts show that choosy moms do choose Jif.

This exercise revealed that the items I most frequently over-purchase are:

Looks like I’ll be making cheese cakes and chess squares decorated with paprika to use these up.

What do you buy too much of? Can sour cream go bad? That fear is the reason I keep buying it. The sugar and paprika I forget to check before I go to Publix.

The OCD Pantry Big Reveal:

Yesterday I held everyone hostage until the attic had been attacked and there were ample piles of trash to prove it.

Yes, we had a wonderful Christmas and a fabulous time in New York, and tales will follow.

One year ago in My Tiny Kingdom: Cream of Shrimp: The Glamore Christmas Story

December 27, 2007

The Liquid Paper Is Running Out

I was thrilled to find a new wireless keyboard under the Christmas tree.

The old one was quite banged up, and it’s hard to type with no visible letters.

Drawing the letters on the blank keys was getting tiresome, and I’m too old to learn to type without looking.

Looks like I’ll be able to continue writing now that my technology has improved.

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We’re furiously packing for NYC. Finn has planned an uplifting day on Monday– a visit to both the Holocaust Museum and the WTC Tribute Museum.

We need to see both of these, but that’s a lot of tragedy for one day. I think I’ll take them to Economy Candy afterwards.

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Hey– a shout out to both Amy at MyScoop and Andre at The Terminal, both of whom were recently featured in the Birmingham News for their blogs.  Go visit and tell them I sent you!