I win at Pinterest!

This is Week 3 of the kid's stay and the newness of the Great Outdoors has worn off. So has TV, books, Nintendo DS, Wii, the dogs, the cats, coloring, me, and anything else that they could possibly entertain themselves with.

Being a good soldier and believing in preparedness, I had numerous arts and crafts projects lined up for us.   (Many kudos to my mom who had to parent before the internet)

I spent about $50 on some essentials like glue,  a shower curtain to put over the table, glass beads, and paint brushes, but most everything was either trash I had saved (egg cartons, plastic bottles, beer caps) or kitchen items.

Here's what we've accomplished so far:

A Nod to the 60's - Homemade Lava lamps:

Water, oil, food coloring and drop an Alka Seltzer in it and watch it go baby!

3-D flowers  

 Made from boxes, egg cartons, construction paper, and bottle caps (this was one of my favorites and now sits in my office)

Poems!

 The kids LOVED this one:

I had a hardcover book that was awful so that I decided to cut the pages out of it so we could color around words to make poems.

Sharpie Art with Dollar Store Plates

Bake for 30 minutes and it's permanent 

Initial Art

They painted they letters and glued the glass beads to it

Bouncy Balls

Made from corn starch, Borax, glue and food coloring. Big hit with the kiddos. 

I still have a couple more tricks up my sleeve but I'm pretty happy with our projects so far!

Happy crafting

Is 11am too early to talk about Mortality? Because it sure feels like it.

My neighbor just got a new puppy this weekend.  

A Pomeranian/Chihuahua mix that looks like a little fluffy fox, similar to this:  

It's off-the-charts cute and an amazing kid magnet.  Not even 24 hours after getting the puppy my kiddos were over at the neighbors house toting the dog around.   It's like they can sense cute and must partake in it. But then comes the Want Factor. 

Around 11 am today, Boy Child asked me when it was going to be 4 o'clock because that's when the neighbors could play again.  I told him he had a good five hours before that happened. 

Boy Child let out a huge, dramatic sigh, put his elbows on the table, rested his head in his hands and said, "I wish we could get a puppy."

Me: You have a puppy in Florida.  

Boy Child:  But we need a puppy here. This summer!

Me: Um, we can't have a puppy because we have two dogs already.

Boy Child: When one of them dies can we?

Me: Geez. I don't want my dogs to die!

Boy Child: No - not wish them to die, but when they die of natural causes...then can we get a puppy?

Me:  I think you need to lay off watching so much Animal Planet. You're six. You shouldn't even know what 'natural causes' means. 

But seriously, he's six and the fact that he can reason out a response like that to 'solve the problem' has me thinking that this kid is going to be dancing circles around me in a few years. *Sigh*

Gatorade - Instant Pee Maker!

Last summer,  I became a pro reasonably adept at being able to handle road trips and day-to-day activities with the kids.  I knew the  steps that had to be completed before we could leave the house on time and I knew all of the retorts to the 8,999 requests that I would hear before we left the house.  I learned how to say no without feeling guilt ridden and how to tell when an argument was brewing that would require adult intervention. I tell you, I thought I had this mom stuff down pat.  But that was last summer.   And if you don't use it, you lose it.  All that hard earned kid knowledge...just out the window.

I made my first tactical error within the first hour of our road trip from SC to VA: 

              

  I handed them the 32 oz bottle of Gatorade that 'Mater (their Dad) asked me to                 buy for them.  

I figured it would be easier to give it to them immediately rather than fielding unending requests  "for a sip". Man, am I dumb sometimes.  A 32oz bottle of gatorade will hydrate the bejesus out a child. In exactly one hour.  They drank that bottle so fast I'm thinking of putting them into a chugging contest at college, any college, and I know that they will walk away undisputed champs.

I am convinced, gatorade or not, that any open, desolate stretch of road will trigger a child's bladder.  This interesting biological phenomenon has forced us  to use gas stations that I would normally only consider stopping at if I couldn't find a tree to hide behind and didn't have a scrap of a paper napkin.

You know those gas stations. The ones that offer Live Bait! Fireworks!! T-shirts!!!!  Hermit CRABS!!!!! and where the locals hang out, smoking cigarettes in the store. So, not only do I have to contend with the cigarette smoking locals staring at us  as we maneuver through the aisles of cheap Chinese made toys and whatnots,  we have to now wade through aisles of crap that is simply irresistible to kids. Ooohh can I get this?  Want. want. want...ugh.

On this trip, we were lucky enough to be able to stop at the infamous  South of the Border.  Oh. My. God. What a dump. I felt as if I was in the Griswold Family Vacation movie to Wally World.  It has certainly lost its childhood luster for me. But they had bathrooms and the kids eyeballs were starting to float so we ignored the trash blowing around the joint and the weird smell and made our way to the bathrooms.

Blondie ended up in the stall next to me and after a few seconds I hear her little voice float over to me and say, "Ms. Allison, what does M-A-N-E-A-T-E-R spell?"

"Um, maneater....why?" 

"There's a picture of a shark with a person in its mouth on my door and that's written above it."

It could have been worse. Way worse.  I'll let you use your imagination because, lord knows, I had some vivid, x-rated imagery running through my mind.  It was easier when they couldn't read, mainly because I still don't know how to answer the question "What does it mean 'call Sherry for a good time'?"

The next gas station we stopped at had no paper towels, a broken sink, and permanent yellow stains in the toilet, but, as Blondie so succinctly put it:  At least it didn't have writing on the wall. 

Amen to that sista'.