Tuesday, April 29, 2008

The J-Man Super Soaker Irrigation System Extraordinaire

Kurt got Jack out of the tub - I was in Jack's room getting his night time diaper and "keen jammie shut." I hear Kurt shout out "Jack's out! He's out!" I shout back "I'm on it" and head into the living room. I see Jack standing there with his naked little butt facing me. And then I see the it - actually I hear it before I see it. Pee-water shooting out of Jack in a perfect semi-circle arch that reached approximately 2 feet up into the air and hitting the floor (the carpeted floor) in a large puddle. I race toward him. Thinking only of the super-soaked pee spot on my carpet, I pick him up (his back was still to me) and decide to take him to the kitchen since that floor is not carpeted. Somewhere in my pee-spot-on-the-carpet obsessed mind, I had reasoned that as soon as I picked him up, the sprinkler system would disengage. Brilliant. Only after I picked him up did I discover the flaw in my thought process. Not only did he not shut off his super-soaker, he switched it into high gear - simultaneoulsy improving his distance and accuracy. Good grief. I'm still holding Jack out in front me, my arms are straight out in an effort to keep him as far away from me as I can, one hand under each one of his arms - his squirt gun facing away from me and still going strong (he's laughing out loud at this point). As I turn to go into the kitchen, Jack turns right along with me; more importantly his new found irrigation system turns right along with me - soaking everything in sight. As soon as we get into the kitchen - the place where Jack can do no damage, where he is free to pee - to pee like the wind; yes, as soon as we arrive in the promised land of non-carpeted floors.....

He stops.

Nice.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Hope is a Nature Lover - almost...


Took the kids to the park last week and they were loving it. They weren't all that interested in the playground equipment, they just wanted to run around and play in the leaves. Hope kept talking about how beautiful everything was. She said:

"Momma, I just love being outside! I never want to go inside again!! The sun is so warm, the grass is so green, the sky is so blue, everything is just so beautif.... EWWWW! DOG POOP!"

(Long pause with no talking - partly because I have to make a running dive to catch Jack before he grabs the offensive mound of poo and shoves it in his mouth. Hope continues with her dramatic monologue).

"Okay Momma, so I'm good on the park. Can we go home now?"

Caffeine is awesome - but there are some problems it cannot solve...


Friday, April 25, 2008

Lint Brushes and the people who fear them.

Wednesday morning I'm racing around the house like a mad woman trying to get the kids and myself ready to leave. I'm brushing Hope's teeth with one hand, putting my contacts in with the other hand all while shouting at Jack to stop trying to push the button to start the jets in the bathtub. Before I got dressed the cat decided to take a nap on my clothes (they were laying on the bed). My outfit on this particular day is a black suit.

Accesory of choice to go with the black suit? Cat Hair. Nice.

I get dressed, making a mental note that I have to deal with Chia Pet appearance of my suit. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Sigh..... Things always look worse after putting in the contact lenses... I finish brushing Hope's teeth and continue to fuss at Jack about the bathtub jets. I start brushing my hair. Hair. Hair - crap! I still have to deal with the cat hair. I continue brushing my hair while I reach for the lint brush (the masking tape kind). Jack is following close behind. I'm brushing with one hand, rolling with the other. I set both brushes down when I'm finished and bend down to put my shoes on. I hear Jack say "My turn!" I absent mindedly reply "uh-huh Jack - that's good - your turn." out of the corner of my eye I see him reach for the brush. How cute, he's going to brush his hair. Oh wait - no, he's going to brush my hair. Oh, that's so sweet. Oh wait - his brush of choice is the lint brush. Did I mention it's the masking tape kind?

So sweet.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Night Terrors and being repeatedly smacked in the face...

Since Sunday night, Jack has had 7 episodes of uncontrollable screaming - all in his sleep. Each time it happens it lasts at least 15 minutes. He just starts screaming out of nowhere - and won't stop. And he doesn't wake up. He's just screaming, crying and totally asleep. The freakiest thing is how his entire body shakes. It's almost like he's doing it on purpose because he's moving so much. It's like he's thrashing around in pain or something. When it happened the first time on Sunday night, I thought he WAS in pain and after about 25 minutes of non-stop screaming I was getting ready to take him to the ER. I was on my way to wake up Hope and get her in the car when it stopped. It happened two more times that night, but not as long as the first time. And because Kurt was out of town at the time, Hope wanted to sleep with Mommy. So I go stumbling back to bed so exhausted, and yet wide awake at the same time. Hope has moved her little body so that she is somehow occupying the entire queen-sized bed. I finally find a place in the bed that I can call my own - I take a deep breath and wait for merciful sleep to find me. I'm almost asleep and WHACK! Something smacks me dead on the nose. Hope. Apparently I had crossed over into her sleeping space or something and she was helping me understand that this was HER bed and I was merely a guest there. I think I slept about an hour over the whole night. Hopefully this explains the crankiness of my Monday morning post.

Last night - after having been awakened 4 times to deal with what seems to be a new Nightime Ritual for Jack - I was getting to my wit's end. Having gotten very little sleep the night before and then worked all day, I was so tired. I was sitting in the rocking chair with him on my lap facing me. There's a nightstand with a lamp to my left; I turn the lamp on and look at him. His eyes are shut and he's just thrashing around screaming. I decide I'm going to try and put him back in his bed and I reach over to turn the lamp off. It's one of those lamps with the switch on the cord. My hand slips and I flip the light off and then back on immediately. And then it happened. Instant - TOTAL silence. No more shaking, no more screaming. Jack is just sitting there on my lap. I can see his face because the hallway light is on and lighting his room pretty well. His eyes are wide open and he's just looking at me with this look that says "what are you doing in my room?". I told him that it was nigh-nigh time. Without a word, he flopped his head on my shoulder and was sound asleep. It didn't happen again after that.

Have I found a cure for his night terrors? Could it be as simple as flipping the lights on and off to kind of shock him out of dreamlike state? Oh I hope so... As for Hope beating me up? I'll take her smacking me in the face over Jack screaming in my face any day.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Kurt's out of town. Rough Morning...


Sunday, April 20, 2008

My 6 year old daughter is teaching me how to bake. And I don't mind telling you - I'm feeling a little insecure...

So I've shared my woes about my ferocious ignorance of all things culinary. Today Hope wanted to bake brownies in her EasyBake oven. Uh, sure, yeah - okay. I guess I can do that. She told me "Mom, why don't you get everything all set up - I'm going to go wash my hands and then I'll come see how you're doing." Um, I'm sorry - what? How old are you? Did we just channel Freaky Friday?

Okay, so I "get everything all set up" as I was instructed and we get to work making "brownies." If you've ever eaten EasyBake foodstuffs, you'll understand the need for the quotation marks.

Long story short, she corrected me several times throughout the process (including the safest way to use the oven). And when it came time to frost the brownies - she stopped me and said,

"No Mommy, you need to do it like this. Ya know, it's a good thing I'm here to help you help me."

Um, I'm sorry - what?

Yeah.... My culinary insecurities have just been elevated to a whole new level. But on the upside, I know what I'm bringing to the potluck.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Jack is a Rockstar




Thursday, April 17, 2008

For Laurel... Now you can get your rave on.


Hi. Wow. This is some Rave.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

You think you're having a rough day...

video

Monday, April 14, 2008

Hope & Jack


I love these little monkeys...

Oh the humanity!









She's crying because all you people keep saying the word Weiner.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

I can't cook to save my life. Seriously.

I can't cook. At all. I'm mean, like not even a little. My one moment of culinary genius involved cutting up hotdogs to put in the Mac & Cheese. It's pathetic. Kurt is an incredible cook. My dad is an off the charts good cook (gourmet stuff like you've never seen). And then there's me. I can't do anything right when it comes to food preparation. But I've found the answer: Super Suppers. It's fast, easy and very, very tasty. Everything is pre-measured, choppped, etc. You just follow the checklist of ingredients and throw everything into a giant ziploc. Take it home and freeze it or cook it right away. Each meal yields 6 servings. There's no mess to clean up - and you can impress people with something other than Oscar Meyer related food stuffs at the dinner table. Super Suppers. Check it out. The one in Fountain Valley is run by the Mastersons - an awesome family from our church.

No more stashing things in the bathtub... Strangers looking in my closets.

So we're selling our house. We're having an Open House every Saturday and Sunday from 11:00 to 4:00. We're running the Open House which means that we're here while strangers are going through our home. They're looking in our closets, our cabinets, the oven, our bathtubs; places more commonly known in the Goble household as: places to stash stuff when you're in a hurry. All of my hiding places have been ripped out from under me. So we're living in a museum. Kurt is acting as the head docent for our "guests" - I'm acting as head janitor. It's weird because normally when you have people in your home, they're friends of yours and they tell you how nice your house is. Now our "guests" walk through and looked bored and very unimpressed. All part of the game I suppose. It's just weird. But hey - if you're looking for something to do, you can come to our Open House and act interested. That way, when potential buyers come through, you can be here too and pretend that you want to buy the house so that they'll be more interested. Jon - this gig is right up your alley. You're an actor - why don't you come over here and act like you want to buy our house?

Friday, April 11, 2008

My daughter has more of a social life than me.


No - she's not bored. She's at a slumber party with a whole bunch of her little friends. Her social life is like 10 times better than mine. I'm so stinkin' bored I'm thinking about painting the house just so I can sit here and watch it dry.
Kurt is sick. Jack is in bed. I'm watching Little House. Again.

I need something to do.

My computer is smarter than me. How do you make the pictures bigger?

Okay, how to you set it up so that someone can click on a picture in your blogspot - and it opens a larger version of the picture in a new window??? I used to be able to do this - without doing anything. It just did it automatically. I seemed to have lost that superhuman ability. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. Watch - in this post, when you click on the picture it will open a new window. That's because the Blogger-Powers-That-Be want to make me look like an idiot. Most of the time, when you click on pictures in my posts, nothing happens (for example, the pictures in my post about Kurt). What have I done to deserve such blog-wrath? More importantly, how do I fix it?

Thursday, April 10, 2008

I've joined the masses...... Now what?

So I finally got an ipod.

I have no idea how to use it.

Kurt

My husband - is awesome.


He's an unbelievable dad.



He's really good at his job.

He's goofy (and hot).




He crawls around under a house in an 18 inch crawl-space that's filled with dirt and black widow spiders so that I can have a whirlpool bathtub.



He always makes me smile.

Dude, use your inside voice.

Why is the OxiClean guy ALWAYS yelling? I bet he types in all caps and always writes with a Sharpie.

I never get it right the first time

I love blogging and leaving comments on other blogs - but the word verification drives me nuts. I never get it right the first time. And what's with the little person in the wheelchair? I'm just sayin...

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

The Lord's Prayer - Oh my gosh, you have to watch this...

Does anyone have advice on how to cure insomnia???



Sunday, April 6, 2008

For Laurel

So much to do.

You ever have one of those days when you have so much to do that all you can do is nothing?

Saturday, April 5, 2008

The joys of blogging and the sorrow that comes with nothing to say

I really enjoy blogging. I enjoy reading other peoples' blogs. I love those few seconds of anticipation I experience when I'm checking to see if anyone has commented on my latest entry - and the satisfaction I feel when I no longer see "0 comments" at the end of my post. I love the idea that there are people I've never met who may be reading one of my entries and laughing - or crying (let's be honest, "SnotSpot" and "Nascar is Boring" were pretty moving posts). I love the fact that I'm getting to know people through blogging. I get a kick out of reading all my friends' comments on my blog and other blogs. i love that I feel more connected to my friends through these blogs because I know what's going on in their lives and they know what's going in mine - even though we don't see each other more than once a week. I think it's hilarious when two people are arguing with each other via the comments page on someone's post. I love it when someone adds me to their blogroll and I love adding new people to mine.

Sigh...

I have absolutely nothing to blog about.

Friday, April 4, 2008

I'm tired of being sick but I love reading greeting cards.






Behold, my self portrait.





So it's been 10 days and I'm not getting any better. Gross.I finally gave in and went to the doctor today. I got a z-pack.

Yay for antibiotics!

One good thing about getting sick: I got to browse the Greeting Card section of Target for 20 minutes while I was waiting for my drugs. I never get to do that. Usually I have the kids with me and I have to keep track of Hope running up and down the aisles and keep Jack out of grabbing distance so he doesn't eat all the cards. There's something thoroughly enjoyable about walking up and down the aisles real slow and reading every single card - even the stupid ones. Some of them are so good - they make me laugh out loud, some of them make me cry... But what's even more fun than reading the cards - is watching other people read them. I get such a kick out all the people who are standing there by themselves, reading and laughing hysterically. They look so silly - just standing there and laughing to themselves. And then of course it occurs to me that I look just like they do.


Sigh...

It's the simple things.











Tuesday, April 1, 2008

I have no words.



So I've been sick since last Tuesday. I made a deal with myself that I could get as sick as my body deemed necessary - as long as it was after Easter and after the PaperWise installation at work (huge new operating system to take our company paperless; much work to prepare, much anticipated pushback from the staff, many software/hardware bugs to work out - sweet). Everything went down the week prior to Easter - rehearsals - long hours at work because of PaperWise, etc. So now my body has cashed in on the deal I made with it. Awesome.

Worst sore throat I've ever had, fever up to 102, body aches, stuff nose, ear ache, blah, blah, blah.

Went back to work yesterday after missing the majority of last week. Fever came back today (not as high, but now I'm freaked it's headed in that direction). Good times. No voice left. Crap. What am I supposed to do if I can't talk? I suck at drawing pictures and I only know one phrase in sign language. The last bit of vocal power I had left was spent yelling at my kids to be quiet when I was trying to read Jon's sad and phony "Oh (sniff, sniff) we're moving away and leaving everything we love" story (see comments on his blog for deets). Nice.

So no more talking.

I am weeping. Kurt is rejoicing.

Then & Now

Here's some before and after shots of the house.