Alternative titles could be : My kids are Assholes or They learned from the best
This morning, thinking ahead to the fact I would need a few hours without my contacts in to give my poor burning eyes a break, I dressed my children in Brightly colored shirts. One red, one blue and one yellow. This way, even without clear vision I would know who was doing what.
I’m SMRT like that.
But little jackasses stole my contacts - which means they moved them six inches to the right and covered them with a face cloth - and switched shirts with each other while I was napping.
Not so fun, really, when the shoe is on the other foot.
Ovens are hot.
To take advantage of that warmth you need to wait for a minus thirty three day before deciding to bake cookies.
Mix up a double batch of the chocolate chip cookie recipe you stole from Fab last winter. Forget to take a picture of gigantic ball of chocolate-chip studded dough. Decide a lolcat talking about cookies is an OK substitute.
Add Smarties to the top cus you are cool like that!
Pop those suckers into the oven. Wait eight minutes. Remove. (is anyone writing this stuff down?)
Wait for them to cool.
Feed annoying little people who keep asking “Are they done?”
You should eat one too!
“But,” you say, “That is only 24 cookies. What did you do with the rest?”
Good Question internets, goood question.
You see, the one and ONLY benift to living in Saskatchewan in the winter is that the entire outdoors becomes your freezer.
Make the cookies like above, but do not cook them, instead, mash them together, cover them with wrap - please note taped edges to foil the wind -
And toss them onto your front deck, (or you can put on your toque, your husband’s shoes and walk out in nothing else but your fuzzy Pooh jammies and place them carefully on the deck - your call) and walk away. Use much willpower not to sneak back and begin eating frozen cookie dough.
Do NOT forget to leave a ball of raw dough in the refrigerator for your husband. Forgetting this step is a sure way to incur his wrath!
In the morning morning, rescue the frozen cookies, package them, and store in the inside.the.house freezer.
Helpful hint : Stack packaged cookies precariously in the freezer so that they fall out and smack you in the head as timely little reminder they are there. This will prevent freezer burn.
And there you have it, Cookies in the wintertime.
If you were to look at family life like a business, I Really need to work on my business performance management. That or Multitasking!
:cry:
Today, December 15th, 2007, ten days before Christmas, Something big Happened at Casa Del Bluepaintred.
Sigh.
Let me back up a wee tiny bit. This morning Hubs and I went into the city! Awesome! 25 feet visibility! Fog And Snow! Yay! (We had shopping to do or no one was eating!) Along the way we stopped in at a gaming store and bought Ratchet and Clank and Sonic with some silver sonic dude for The Boys to give to Hubs for Christmas.
Hubs has been practicing his surprised face all afternoon.
When we got home, and the children returned from their sleepover at Nana and Papa’s I told them to go to my room so I could show them what I had bought for them to give Daddy. With the older ones in my room, Stuperman yelled I’M DOOOONE and just like that, I had a butt to wipe.
Walking back into my room, I could not help but notice the speed that Rainbow Man moved away from my closet. The closet holding all the gifts. You know. The ones from Santa. The ones in their distinctive Santa Wrapping Paper.
Sigh.
BlueBoy, who had been looking out my window while RM snooped, was sent out of the room, and Hubs was called in.
And thus, Ten days before Christmas, I made my son cry by explaining that there was no Santa. I feel we had no choice but to tell him. It was either explain the secret, or have him say “But. I saw that in your closet!” on Christmas Morning, and have him ruin the younger boys naivety.
But it still Sucks. 
What with the move to wordpress and all of the associated changes, there have been a few things I wanted to blog about but haven’t had the time.
*~*
A huge, HUGE thank you to Nobody and Sheila for all their behind the scenes work on Bluepaintred; Wordpress edition. Don’t worry Shelli, I will be drafting you into service, very soon!
On Sunday last, we took the boys in for their annual photo with Santa. (For the Third year in a row, we are first in line!) The two older ones went up without parental assistance, But I took Stuperman up and lifted him onto the Big Guys lap myself. I backed out of the shot, but was still close enough to hear their conversation ( and join in).
Hohoho. Merry Christmas Little guy. How old are you
*stuperman shows three fingers* Mostly four.
Have you been a good boy this year?
*Stuperman does not answer*
What do you want from Santa little guy?
*Stuperman mumbles*
I ask him. What do you want from Santa?
*Stuperman mumbles something again*
*apparently we have given up. There is a line of about 100 kids waiting for their photos behind us*
Santa says, Well, I’ll see what I can do.
*After the photo is taken, the children are offered a treat from the jolly fat man*
Would you like popcorn or a candy cane?
*Stuperman mumbles*
I ask; Popcorn or a candy cane, honey?
*Stuperman mumbles*
Santa brings both items out from behind his back; Do you want the popcorn or the candy cane?
I ALREADY TOLD YOU! I WANT A MONSTER TRUCK! Stuperman screams.
*he takes the popcorn and we leave. *
Talking with my sister VIA instant messaging she referred to Christmas as Stressmas. I like it. We need to start a campaign to stop the usage of the word Christmas. From this point on, Christmas IS Stressmas!
I’m a moron. Let me tell you why. Last Saturday, driving into the city we passed a church. Their Christmas Decorations consisted of a cross covered in pretty LED lights. (Enter stupidity)
What a stupid Decoration, I said to Hubs. I mean there is a tree right there they could have lit up. Why would they light up the cross?
*Blank stare from Hubs*
No really, I continued, its retarded.
Uh. Christmas is Jesus’ birthday…
And if that wasn’t bad enough, on Wednesday I was sitting in BFF Kissy’s living room making gift bags. The Radio was on a Station that was playing JUST Christmas Carols. The Stoopids Returneth
Why on earth are all these songs so Jesus-ish?
BFF Kissy and her mom are Catholic. I received both a blank (From BFF) and disapproving (From BFF’s Mom) stare.
This time I caught on quicker. Oh yea. The whole born on Christmas thing, right?
First of all, Thanks to Sheila for spending some time behind the scenes helping me with wordpress coding. And by helping me, I really mean she went in and did all the grunt work while I went shopping.
Shopping = awesome.
As you know, or SHOULD know, the twelfth of December is a very important day in my life. My Bff Kissy was born on that day. Normally I would put up a cutsey wootsie post about how much she means to me and how I would be lost without her and pleasedonteverleaveme, but instead of spending her birthday behind a monitor I actually ventured out of the house and saw her.
Its actually really hard to see her due to the 14 hour days she works - oh and the no days off thing, that sucks too. Whatever. She managed to get her birthday off so we went out on the town. And by that of course, I mean we went to Wal*mart.
I love Wal*Mart. I really really do.
Other than spending time with Bff Kissy, my mission, should I choose to accept it, and I did becuase it meant shopping, was to get the randomosities that fill up the childrens (and mine) Christmas Stockings.
I dunno how you all do your Stockings, but when I grew up, the staple of my stocking was Socks and underwear, and to this day, unless there is a special occasion (*wink*) I get new underwear the 25th of December and thats it.
Ahhhnyway. I picked up the cutest sock sets for the boys, Cars For Stuperman, TMNT For Blue Boy and Hot Wheels For the eldest, eight year old Rainbow Man - Who wants me to change his name to Dragon Master BTW.
I also Picked up the various packages of underwear. Well Two packages for me because I could not decide between the colors. I got The Bee Movie ones for Stuperman, And Spiderman Boxers for the Two older boys.
So the problem is this, interwebs : While waiting in line to pay, BFF Kissy started crawling up and down my spine and bashing my frontal lobe in about the fact I got Character socks and Underwear for Rainbow Man. She feels that at eight, he should be wearing plain undies and white (or black) socks.
Let me be very clear on the subject of socks for just a moment : No matter how fucking old you are, white socks or black socks have no place in your life. Socks should be fun, colorful and above all, when you look down, they should make you smile.
But What about the Spiderman Boxer Breifs? Is he really going to be embarrased to wear them? He’s eight! I have a feeling that when he and his buds are lined up at the urinals having pissing contests, they are ALL still wearing Spiderman, Super man And TMNT Underwear!
Bff Kissy asked me if I will still be buying him Character undies when he is 13. I told her that providing they came in his size, yes, I would.
(She feels that if he is wearing Character undies at 13 he will be too embarrassed to drop trou for a girl - this is not a bad thing! )
In any case, Interwebs ; I ask you this : Is eight too old for cute undies? Should I be buying black and white, with the odd navy blue? Is it really necessary for me to walk past the cute Optimus Prime and settle on the boring old pinstripe?
