On Top Of Things...Not

So I've been traveling so much lately that I missed Owen's parent/teacher conferences.  So I emailed his teacher yesterday and apologized for missing conferences (but  I told him that I had been traveling a lot and blamed it on Ken and told him at least my children were alive...lol) and told him I still needed to speak with him. He said that he still had 5:15-5:30 tonight available. I emailed him back that I felt bad that he had to stay late and I was available whenever.

He never responded so I dumped Owen (with Shane as the chaperone) over at the college for tennis and raced to the school hoping he was still there. I was kinda pissed that he didn't confirm with me but i took a chance that he would still be there. So I pulled up to the school and there were a ton of cars. At 5:15 pm. Weird right? I was hoping that the doors weren't locked. They weren't.

When I went through the front doors, there was a sign up that you didn't need to sign in at the office if you were here for conferences. I thought it was left over from when I missed the conferences. As I walked down the lower hall, I noted that one teacher was talking to a parent. I still didn't clue in that it was actually conferences. Not even when I passed the cafeteria and there was PTA stuff going on. It finally hit me when I rounded the 5th grade hallway and saw his teacher sitting in his room with another parent, with his door closed, and tons of other parents all over the hallway, that I had actually not missed the conferences.

You know, I thought that the 5:15-5:30 time that he gave me was a little weird. I apologized for being irritated with him for not emailing me back because obviously he was preparing for conferences. I confessed to him my blonde moment.

 

Then I decided to be the good mom, and support the kids school at the same time, and take my kids to the McDonald's spirit night.

 

Unfortunately, it was one day early.

 

I guess I should have actually read that piece of paper that the PTA sent home.  You know...the one that I made Shane go back inside and get so that the school would get credit for us going.

In my defense, Owen told me it was spirit night.  I suppose that I should have verified that he was right.

 

I am so totally on top of things.

 

God have mercy, I rock.

Scheduling A.D.D.

While I'm usually fairly on top of things, I do have the occasional "scheduling A.D.D." moment where I just can't keep up with what is going on.  Usually it's something that is a short term class that one of the kids has that is thrown in the middle of my already hectic cab service.

And I get into the groove of the normal day and forget the extra added bonus shuttle trip of moving  kids and a husband to and from various locations.

And usually I catch myself before one of the other kids...or worse yet...another adult...notices that I'm not quite as together as I appear to be.

And I hate that.

Especially when I've done the same thing two weeks in a row.  And if I *did* something like that, it would probably include sitting in a car rider line for 30 minutes and holding up the line waiting for Owen to get into the car.  And then having the monitoring teacher knock on my window and tell me that Owen was in robotics until 5.  And then having the same scenario happen the next week.

Not that something like that would ever happen.

Again.

This week that is!

Doh.

/go scheduling A.D.D.  :p

You Don't Understand?

I am so blonde.

There.  I said it.

But this should be nothing new to either of my two readers.

But the bad thing is that I've done this same exact thing before.

I told Owen that he needed to be a bus rider.

I forgot to write him a note so I dropped the prince off in the car rider line and pulled around to the front office entrance and ran in to write a note to leave for the teacher.

Hey.  At least I didn't scribble it on a napkin in the car rider line as he was jumping out the door.  Not that I've ever done that before.  Nope.  Not me.

Feeling all proud of myself that I actually remembered that Owen needed to be a car rider, and wrote the note instead of calling in like I usually would, I went on about my merry way.

About two minutes from the school, my cell phone rang and it was the school secretary saying that she was confused by my note because it said that Owen should be a car rider on bus #*&^.

Doh.

Oops.  I am so awesome.  I mean I can't understand how she didn't understand what he was suppose to do.  Owen and I did!

But, anyway, it's Owen's fault for not reminding me!

I Hid It R.E.A.L. Good! Not.

This month has been a whirlwind of activity.  Seriously.  In between of all of the Christmas stuff going on, Ken decided that he wanted to get away.  So we did.  To Key West for several days.

Being the organized and on-top-of things person that I am, I decided to go ahead and wrap some of the Christmas presents before I left. 

So on the Eve of Christmas, otherwise known as Christmas Eve, I decided that I can't put it off any longer and had to wrap the rest of them.

Before I left, I had wrapped Owen's present from  Santa and set it aside. 

But I couldn't find it this morning.  Cause apparently I hid it from both him and myself R.E.A.L. good. 

In a panic, I went downstairs to inform Ken that we'd (and by "we" I mean "Ken") would have to go to the store today to replace the present.

And then I looked under the Christmas tree.

And there it sat. 

Right there in plain view.

God I rock.


Could I be any blonder? 

Merry Christmas! 

Not My Car

Sometimes I really wonder why my hair darkened from the snow white blond that I was when I was a young child.

Seriously.

There's no other way to lead up to what I did yesterday so I'll just say it.

I got into the wrong car.

And started bitching about how dirty it was because I had just cleaned it out.

And didn't realize that it was the wrong car until Shane and Owen told me.  Cause I was too busy complaining about how they destroyed my car.  LOL

So, I shut the door and said that I was glad that it wasn't my car because it was filthy.  Anyway, it was the drivers fault for not locking her car door.

And then I walked over to MY car very nonchalantly and got into it.

With the boys laughing at me hysterically and calling me blondy.

Come on.  Don't judge.  I know that you've gotten into the wrong car before.

The Costco Sized Mistake

I thought that I was doing so good by getting by Costco to pick up a few things on Friday. Ok. A few things turned into a cart full of stuff and $300 later but that's not the point.

The point is that I was able to pick up milk there so Ken had milk for his cereal this weekend and it cut out a stop at the grocery store. Checking both stops off my list, I felt pretty good about myself.

When I got up this morning, he asked me if I knew I got whole milk.

Oops. No. No I didn't.

With his best smartass response, he said "well at least it wasn't a Costco sized mistake".

Um. Yes it was.

Oops. I am so blond.

Oops. Did I Buy That?

I was shopping at Kohl's the other day and saw this super cute top.

I was in a hurry so I just grabbed what I thought was the right size, went up to the register and paid for it all excited because I thought that I had found a sleeveless shirt that "might" just fit me.

When I got home, I tried it on and it didn't fit.  It was too big.  Bummer.

So I returned it to Kohl's yesterday.  When the nice lady rang up the return, I started giggling.  Outloud.  Because I am so freaking blonde.

Instead of buying a regular top, I had accidentially bought a maternity top.

Yep.  That's right.  A maternity top.

I cruised by the rack that I had bought the top at just to double check and make sure that the clerk didn't make a mistake.

And yep.  I am that blonde.  I definitely bought a maternity top.  

l

But now that I think about it, my mom bought a shirt just like that last summer.  I wonder if she's really a blonde too and bought a maternity shirt by accident also.  Teehee.

And now I'm really glad it was too big.  

All I know is I rock.  I rock.  I really, really rock!  Yay me!

Teehee

Helpful Hints for a Healthy Thanksgiving

I'm all about sharing helpful hints.  You know.  Things that you have learned and want to share with others to make their lives easier and more complete.

So today's helpful hint is all about how to have a healthy Thanksgiving. 

If you're like millions of other Americans, you are cooking a huge, delicious meal for your family.  You've remembered the turkey, mac and cheese (if you're southern!), cranberries, rolls and pies.

But then you start feeling guilty because the only "vegetable" on your table is a pan of sweet potatoes loaded down with brown sugar and marshmellows. 

In order to feel like a good parent, you quickly stick some canned corn in the microwave at the last minute.  Because that's the BEST vegetable to feed your family to help alleviate your guilt.

But truth be told, it's the only vegetable that you could find in your pantry on such sort notice.

And if you've gone to all that trouble to fix a healthy vegetable for your family, don't forget to take it out of the microwave. 

Remembering the corn in the microwave as you're eating dessert.  :p

Not that *I* would have ever have done that or anything.  Because remember.  I said that I said that I like to share helpful hints that I learned.

I didn't say "how" I learned them!

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!

It All Worked Out In The End

Dear Mrs. Lee,

I appreciate the trust that you put in me to do such important tasks such as retrieve McDonalds lunches for the kids who did their reading minutes and actually remembered to write the books down and turn them in at the beginning of the year.  Yeah them!

But please don't trust me with such an important task again.  Oh yeah, it all worked out in the end but I really can not be trusted with such an important task.

I stopped by the McDonalds on the way back home the other afternoon to talk to the manager and put the order in so I just had to pick it up the next day.  Being all prepared, I figured that I would make sure that I wasn't late for such an important lunch date.

But when I got in there, it was packed with so many teenagers that had just gotten out of school that I got dizzy.  I decided against trying to talk to the manager and just ordered something to eat and got the heck out of there.  (Ordering something for myself wasn't in the plans but I'm adaptable like that!)

So I got home with about 15 minutes left in my day before Shane got home so I rushed upstairs to get some work done.  I ran back downstairs (still in my workout clothes from the morning, mind you) and started to unload the dishes when I got an awful thought and couldn't remember where I put the kids orders.

I searched high and low for that scrap of paper that you gave me with their orders.  It wasn't upstairs on my desk.  It wasn't on the counter with my keys, in my purse or in the trey in the van where I usually put stuff.

It was about 3:10 and I knew that you would still be at school and could get their orders again.  I had drafted the apology email in my head already...claiming my usual "I'm a blonde" excuse.  I decided to go back out to the van and look one more time.

Then it hit me that I had put it in a really secure spot (in the clip on my visor) and my panic attack was over.  It was right there where I had so lovingly secured it when I left McDonalds.

Surely I can't be the only one who puts something away for safe keeping and forgets where she puts it. 

So it all worked out in the end but next time before you charge me with such an important task, please give me a copy of a copy of whatever it is that you need from me.  I'm not responsible enough for the originals.  Deal?

So Proud!

Owen was selected as student of the month this time. It's a big deal to the kids because it's voted on by their classmates and, although they like the award, they really like the breakfast and ceremony that the school puts on for them. Parents are invited.

It's a big deal. We're really so proud of Owen. :)

So I dropped Owen off at school yesterday and kissed him on the forehead and said I'd see him at 9:15. I got my camera charged up and made my way over to the school about 9:20.

I pulled into the near empty parking lot. Not a good sign. I went into the office and asked the school secretary if I missed it.

Apparently it's next month. Not yesterday. :-|

Oops.

Did I mention I was blonde when I was a child?

Stupid Oven

Stupid oven.

We have the absolute worst luck when it comes to ovens. Seriously. We have a huge black cloud hanging over our oven area. Just like the cloud that use to follow Ramona Quimby. A big ol' huge black cloud.

When we first moved in, we had a brand new oven and it broke within the first month we were here. We proceeded to fight with that oven, and the subsequent one that we had to purchase to replace it, for the next several years.

I finally got fed up last November and replaced it with a brand new shiny expensive oven. We made sure that we looked at the reviews on the new oven. Ken talked to some friends who had the same one and they were happy with it. It all checked out.

So we bought it and have been happy with it for the last few months. I mean what's not to be happy? We had an oven that actually turned on when you started it!

So you can imagine my disgust when I looked to see what time it was this weekend and the control panel on it was dead. Deader than a door knob. Dead.

Did I also mention that one of the gas burners stopped working?

Well, crap.

So we scheduled maintenance for this Monday and I reworked my to-do list to wait around for the repair guy.

He got here and I proceeded to tell him what was going on. First, he asked about the gas burner and I told him that it stopped working about a week ago and I didn't know if what was going on with that had anything to do with the oven.

He fiddled with the gas cap and adjusted it ever so slightly.

Then he turned the knob and it lit up.

With an absolute straight face (and I don't know how he didn't just crack up), he explained to me that the gas will not work if the dohickey-whatever-he-called-it isn't sitting properly on it.

At this point, I looked at him and said that I really wasn't blond.

He then proceeds to ask me what's going on with the oven. I said that I didn't know but I had flipped the breaker thinking that there may have been a power surge and Ken had unplugged it and replugged it back in.

He said that he was just going to unplug it and replug it again. So he did.

And it came on.

And I felt like an idiot. A big ol' blond idiot.

I then told him that I had lied. I really was born a blond.

Stupid oven.

Oh wait. Maybe it wasn't the oven this time.

And Yet Another Duh Moment...Brought To You By Blondie

Yeah baby!

That was brilliant!

Brilliant I tell you!

It's not like I don't know that cayenne pepper spices are hot and spicy. Because I do.

I suppose I just needed to be reminded, in a not-so-awesome way, that you shouldn't touch your eyes when you are cooking with cayenne peppers.

Well, that was fun. Not.

And stupid. Sometimes I wonder why my hair isn't blonde.

Because it should be.

And if you haven't figured it out by now, please don't touch your eyes if you're cooking with hot peppers.

Yeah. You're more than welcome for the "duh...Kim" advice.

Ouch.

The One Cent Stamp Costs One Cent...Duh

ME: "How much does a 1 cent stamp cost?"

POSTAL CLERK: (Thinks about it for a second and looks at me like I'm nuts) and says "Um. 1 cent."

ME: (Face red after realizing what I said.) "It's so awesome to share my blonde moments with other people."

After that exchange, I felt the need to justify my blondness and explained that I really needed to know how much a stamp cost now because I have a modge podge of stamps and need to buy one cent stamps so I can use them.

The clerk giggled and said thanks for the laugh because she was probably going to need it today. So glad I could help her out.

And I think that I should rename "blonde moments" with "Kim moments" because that's more appropriate.

Damn You Monday!

The good thing about having a six year old is that they can be sent to fetch things for you. And this is a good thing when it's 6:50 in the morning and you're trying to get out the door to catch a train that won't wait for you.

But the bad thing about a six year old fetching your things for you is that they are six. [i]And [/i] this six year old is a boy so he doesn't always follow directions to the letter and there's a 50/50 chance that he won't do what you ask him to do right the first time.

As was the case on this fine Monday morning when Ken sent Owen upstairs to fetch his shoes.

I got a text from Ken this morning that read "Owen brought me one of each shoe. Meh. LOL."

But...he didn't realize it until he was on the train. :p

LOFL. Yeah. That's a good one. Apparently I'm not the only blonde in the family.

But come on and be honest here. You've done that too, haven't you? Well, I'll be honest and say that I have. I wore a black heel and a blue heel to work one day and didn't realize it until I was in a meeting at work. Oops.

I guess that the moral of the story is that you get what you pay for. And you should double check Owen when you ask him to do something.

Damn you Monday!

The Blond Rides Again - Chapter XXII

Shane is doing a research project and had to type it up. It took him about 4 hours and I felt sorry for him so I typed the last paragraph or two for him. As such, I'm not sure if this is his blond moment or mine.

He took the paper to school and showed it to his teacher to review.

Or should I say "tit?"

Because that's what he/I typed instead of it.

Add a "t" and "it" becomes "tit."

Apparently our spell check recognizes the word because it didn't pick up on the incorrectly spelled word.

I can only imagine what the teacher thought. She just struck through the first "t" with a red marker. I'm sure that she got a good giggle out of tit.

Heck. It probably made her day.

It made mine.

LOL.

Organization Gone Awry

Katie, from the first time I saw them, I loved your organized cabinets with all of your flours and cereals neatly stacked and organized in modern Tupperware containers. Or should I say cabinet...because it is the only one that I'm allowed to look in since apparently the rest look like my cabinets. ;)

So, when I received the invitation to your Tupperware party, I couldn't resist stopping by. I've been in a clean it up, clear it out and organize it mode so this was perfect timing. Besides the fact that you make a tasty little margarita. Which is probably what led me to believe that I could have a cabinet like your cabinet.

Heh. I had cabinet envy. That's funny.

Anywho, when I went to gathered the ingredients for my chicken pot pie last night, I grabbed for the white flour in it's neat little Tupperware container (because I felt bad using my usual whole wheat flour in gravy). That was my first mistake. I should have just used the good for you stuff.

I should back up here and say that for a second day in a row, I had planned dinner in advance (because I was going to DC for a cocktail party) and was going to use the chicken that I had cooked from the previous day's dinner debacle. That was my second mistake. I should have left them sandwiches instead and taken a nap.

But, being the good mom that I am, I made dinner for them. If you haven't made chicken pot pie before, the first step is to make the gravy for the pie filling. Now, I am a southern girl and I know how to make gravy.

So, as I was talking on the phone, washing laundry and emptying the dishwasher, I was stirring my gravy (mistake #3). It wasn't getting any thicker so I kept adding more flour. My fourth mistake was actually measuring out the flour. I should have thrown it in with my hands.

But, 30 minutes later, it didn't look right. I figured that I had added too much butter (because it was greasy, which it never is) so I dumped it out and started over. I still had 30 minutes to spare so I made it again. I really, really wasn't giving up.

The second batch came out better but there wasn't much gravy (it still didn't look right though) but screw it. I had to go get in the shower so I poured it over the chicken and veggies.

And then I tasted it.

And it was super sweet.

What in the hell?

All the sudden, a light bulb went off over my head just like the cartoons. I backed up and stuck my finger in the flour and tasted it.

It wasn't white flour at all. It was confectionary sugar.

I guess that tells you how much I cook with white flour. And, well, that would explain why it didn't look like gravy either.

Because it wasn't. It was an unplanned science experiment.

And the kids had sandwiches for dinner. What I should have planned for them to have in the first place.

But, Katie, I still love your organized cabinets. It was good in theory and I get an A for effort but a D for follow through and foresight. I guess that's what I get for being organized but I suppose I didn't take the organization far enough. I'll be getting out the ol' label maker and labeling everything this weekend.

The label for the confectionery sugar will read "confectionery sugar, stoopid."

And....yet the bottle of peroxide strikes again.

Derailed By Another Blond Moment...Doh

I hate it when I actually think ahead about dinner (like more than five minutes before we're suppose to eat) and actually have everything thawed out and am derailed by a blond moment. But the really bad thing is that I have absolutely no one to blame but myself since I'm the only one who cooks in the house.

So, now my yummy grilled chicken salad is going to be baked chicken since I forgot to turn off the gas grill last time I used it and all of the gas drained out of it. Doh. I'm such a blond sometimes.

But, I guess I should be happy that I could even bake it since half the time my wacked out oven doesn't work. Unfortunately, I've got to head out the door to after school activities which will keep us out until 7:00 so there was no time to do anything other than throw it in the oven and just cook it.

I so need a chef. And a personal assistant to go behind me and stop the blond moments before they happen.

Meh.

Where's My Head?

When the boys got home yesterday at 4:00, I had to get them organized and get them right back out the door to get Owen to tennis at 4:30. This is no easy feat considering all they want to do is raid the fridge and watch toonies.

Owen, get out of the fridge!

Owen, get dressed!

Shane, get something to do while Owen's at tennis!

Shane go pee! Owen go pee!

Owen, get out of the fridge!

Owen, get dressed!

And, so forth and so on until we finally head out the door at 4:20 or so.

At this point, I remind both of them to get their coats. It's 20 degrees outside after all.

I go to get into the car and realized I had forgotten my purse and I handed Shane the sales flyers that I intended to read while he was in class and let the seat up to buckle Owen's seatbelt. I intended to go back and get my purse after buckeling Owen up.

I again asked Shane where he saw my purse. He said it was on the counter.

As I am getting ready to buckle Owen's seat belt, I looked down and saw my purse.

It was in my hand. I swear I'd lose my head if it weren't attached.

Now, stop laughing because I know that you've done something stupid like that before. Sunglasses on the head anyone? Anyone?

So we raced to the tennis center. We get in there and realize that Owen has a week break and doesn't really have tennis.

Haha. Another blonde moment or two.

You Know You've Done It Too

You know that you've done it to at one point or the other so don't laugh at me when I report my latest blond moment.

And, yes...there do seem to be a lot of those. But, in my defense, most people do them too. They just turn around, whistle and pretend that it never happened. I just happen to find them funny. And life is all about being real. Right?

So, anyway, I was so proud that I actually got out Christmas cards this year. Patting myself on the back at a job well done.

Maybe I shouldn't have done that.

Ken brought in the mail the other day. He was laughing and handed me a card.

It was a card that I sent to one of my friends. It had all of the pertinent information on it except her address.

Oops.

But in my defense (because I always have a defense!), I had a few cards set aside that I needed to get the addresses. In an effort to help, Ken sealed the envelopes (how smart am I to sluff that job?!) and must have just grabbed the few that I had set aside by accident.

Yeah. That's what happened and that's what I'm going with.

Anyway, a few more came back. One to Jeff and Marcie. At an old address. I think that I remember them moving now. Because their last Christmas card bounced too. To the same address I'm pretty sure.

Oops.

And...this was the same Jeff and Marcie that my in-laws got their card a few years ago instead of getting the correct one. It would be Jeff and Marcie though. I guess they will haunt me forever.

I wonder where they went anyway. I do miss them.

So...how many of you had returned cards this year? Be honest. It can not just be me. Although, it's a Christmas tradition now.

One that I could do without. lol.

Powder of Tartar...Err...Or My Most Recent Blond Moment

Who knew that this:



didn't equal this:



Apparently everyone else but me.

Sadly enough, even Ken knew it.

So in a truly blond moment, I bought tartar sauce for Ken to make his butterscotch meringue pie thinking that it was cream of tartar.

Stop laughing. Because I know you are.

I should interject here that I've never made a meringue pie (and I don't eat them really either) so I have no clue what the ingredients should go into them.

And in my defense, I've never even used cream of tartar. Ever. In any recipe or with any food.

So when I went scouring the isles at the grocery store, dizzy from the crowds of Thanksgiving shoppers, I was looking for Cream of Tartar. As soon as I saw the Tartar Sauce, I figured that was what I was looking for, patted myself on the back for finding it and got the heck out of there. (It was creamy!)

Afterall, I was looking for Cream of Tartar NOT Powder of Tartar.

As soon as Ken saw it, he started laughing and googled what I was suppose to buy to show me what Cream of Tartar was.

And when I returned the Cream of Tartar to the store, the manager got a good laugh too. (Ken also got a good laugh that I would actually return the Cream of Tartarm instead of just keeping it to ward off further embarrassment.)

And when my mom got into town, Ken made sure he told her also.

And then she got a good laugh too.

And now you, my dear two readers, can also get a good laugh at my most recent blond moment.

But, I really think that we should start a petition to have the name Cream of Tartar changed to Powder of Tartar.

Although, if it were named Powder of Tartar, we wouldn't have this awesome story to remind us of Thanksgiving 2008 and how I am truly meant to be a blond!