Sherry Ellis's Blog, page 66
January 10, 2014
Giving Mama the Cold Shoulder
My boy is feeling better. I can tell because he's back to his old shenanigans.
I was doing my work at the computer, when he came up to me and bugged me about something. I gave him an obligatory grunt and carried on. He came back two minutes later and tried to carry on a conversation.
"Bubba, I'm a little busy right now. Can we talk later?"
He walked away.
Three minutes later, he was back. He didn't say anything. He just came up behind me and inserted an ice cube down the back of my sweater.
I nearly jumped to the ceiling. "Bubba!" I yelled. "What do you think you're doing?"
He smiled one of his impish grins. "Giving you a cold shoulder!"
I was doing my work at the computer, when he came up to me and bugged me about something. I gave him an obligatory grunt and carried on. He came back two minutes later and tried to carry on a conversation.
"Bubba, I'm a little busy right now. Can we talk later?"
He walked away.
Three minutes later, he was back. He didn't say anything. He just came up behind me and inserted an ice cube down the back of my sweater.
I nearly jumped to the ceiling. "Bubba!" I yelled. "What do you think you're doing?"
He smiled one of his impish grins. "Giving you a cold shoulder!"
January 9, 2014
Spider Battle
I think there's something crazy going on with my brain. But you already knew that, right? Last night I had a very bizarre dream. Usually I don't remember my dreams, but this was so crazy, I couldn't help but remember it.
I was in a desert wilderness. As I walked, I noticed "caves" in the sand. They weren't normal caves - they we like holes in the ground under miniature rock outcroppings. Puzzled, I peered into one of them. That's when I noticed movement. The whole space shifted. It didn't make sense. What was it?
I walked on and encountered another "cave." But this time the creature that was inside came out. Do you know what it was? A giant spider! Black and hairy like a tarantula, but as big as a car. It came at me with its mandibles clicking. It looked like I was lunch.
I did a super-human leap away from that thing and watched. It turned out that the arachnid had its sights on something else. My son! Somehow Bubba ended up in the dream. The big, bad spider spotted him aimless walking and decided he'd make a nice snack.
Uh oh, I thought. Time to do battle!
With another super-human leap, I tackled the spider, picked it up, and threw it so it landed on its back. But that wasn't the end of the story. Giant hairy spiders have friends, and the friends came out to fight.
I brandished my sword (yeah, I don't know where that came from.), did a few slick ninja moves, and skewered a couple of arachnids, but not before one of them bit me. My arm started tingling. That wasn't good! I was about to mutilate that nasty arachnid, but I was interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Mama!" It was my son, and his call sounded like a pathetic moan. I looked at the clock. 4:50 AM. I crawled out of bed and opened the door. My son was lying in a fetal position on the ground. "I'm sick!"
He sure was! He had a fever, sick tummy, headache, sore throat, and was extremely dizzy.
Time to do battle! I did a slick ninja move to the medicine cabinet and brandished a bottle of Motrin.
"Take that you stupid spiders," I said.
My son looked at me funny. "Are you okay, Mama?"
Yeah. Just another night on the job.
I was in a desert wilderness. As I walked, I noticed "caves" in the sand. They weren't normal caves - they we like holes in the ground under miniature rock outcroppings. Puzzled, I peered into one of them. That's when I noticed movement. The whole space shifted. It didn't make sense. What was it?
I walked on and encountered another "cave." But this time the creature that was inside came out. Do you know what it was? A giant spider! Black and hairy like a tarantula, but as big as a car. It came at me with its mandibles clicking. It looked like I was lunch.
I did a super-human leap away from that thing and watched. It turned out that the arachnid had its sights on something else. My son! Somehow Bubba ended up in the dream. The big, bad spider spotted him aimless walking and decided he'd make a nice snack.
Uh oh, I thought. Time to do battle!
With another super-human leap, I tackled the spider, picked it up, and threw it so it landed on its back. But that wasn't the end of the story. Giant hairy spiders have friends, and the friends came out to fight.
I brandished my sword (yeah, I don't know where that came from.), did a few slick ninja moves, and skewered a couple of arachnids, but not before one of them bit me. My arm started tingling. That wasn't good! I was about to mutilate that nasty arachnid, but I was interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Mama!" It was my son, and his call sounded like a pathetic moan. I looked at the clock. 4:50 AM. I crawled out of bed and opened the door. My son was lying in a fetal position on the ground. "I'm sick!"
He sure was! He had a fever, sick tummy, headache, sore throat, and was extremely dizzy.
Time to do battle! I did a slick ninja move to the medicine cabinet and brandished a bottle of Motrin.
"Take that you stupid spiders," I said.
My son looked at me funny. "Are you okay, Mama?"
Yeah. Just another night on the job.
January 7, 2014
Bubble Beards
My kids have been trying to entertain themselves since the cold weather is keeping them out of school. Today they came up with an ingenious activity: Filling the kitchen sink with water, dumping an entire container of liquid hand soap in, and creating more bubbles than you've ever seen in one sink.
"And you're going to do what with those bubbles?" I asked when I saw the mess.
"Make bubble beards!" my nine-year-old son said. He dipped his hand in the suds and smeared bubbles all over his chin. He looked a little like Santa Claus.
"Nice," I said, eyeing the spectacle.
My twelve-year-old daughter came over and did the same thing, except she added a mustache. Then my boy chased her around the house. Bubbles flew off their faces and landed on the floor.
Schultz, our hundred-pound German Shepherd was curious about those bubbles which had landed on the floor. So he stuck he nose in them and sniffed. And guess what happened? He got a bubble beard, too!
So what do you think, ladies and gentlemen? Should I go smear some bubbles on my face and join in the fun?
"And you're going to do what with those bubbles?" I asked when I saw the mess.
"Make bubble beards!" my nine-year-old son said. He dipped his hand in the suds and smeared bubbles all over his chin. He looked a little like Santa Claus.
"Nice," I said, eyeing the spectacle.
My twelve-year-old daughter came over and did the same thing, except she added a mustache. Then my boy chased her around the house. Bubbles flew off their faces and landed on the floor.
Schultz, our hundred-pound German Shepherd was curious about those bubbles which had landed on the floor. So he stuck he nose in them and sniffed. And guess what happened? He got a bubble beard, too!
So what do you think, ladies and gentlemen? Should I go smear some bubbles on my face and join in the fun?
January 5, 2014
Lego War
If you've been following me a few years, you know I used to regularly put together huge Lego sets with my son. We're talking 700 - 1500 pieces. My boy loved the finished products, but didn't quite have the brain power to complete construction on his own. Now my boy is nine, and can handle complicated sets. Usually.
The one he got for Christmas was a little feisty. It was an 800 piece Star Wars Lego set. I can't even tell you what it was without running upstairs to look at the box (which I'm not going to do). All I know was that it was a pain in the you-know-what to put together.
"Mama," my son said. "I need help!"
I looked at what he had done and discovered an error. I corrected it and let him continue. Five minutes later, the same thing happened.
"Mama, I think you need to do this part. It's too hard."
I looked at the instructions. It was for assembling the cockpit. I went to work and assembled about a hundred pieces worth of Legos. It took me forever, because they pieces didn't stick together properly, and when pressure was applied on one side, the other side would fall apart. Completely annoying! Anyway, I finished that stinking cockpit and attempted to attach it to the rest of the spaceship thingy. And do you know what happened? Not only did the cockpit fall apart, but the entire side of the spaceship thingy fell off.
That made me mad! I said a few choice words and grabbed a Lego cannon. I fired a cannon ball at the decrepit spaceship thingy. It toppled over.
My son couldn't believe I did that. "Mama, you destroyed it!"
"Yep. Mama has declared a Lego war on that faulty Lego spaceship contraption thingy! It must die!"
(For those of you who are concerned about my unnaturally violent outburst, don't worry. I managed to complete the spaceship thingy five hours later, and my son is now happily playing with it.)
The one he got for Christmas was a little feisty. It was an 800 piece Star Wars Lego set. I can't even tell you what it was without running upstairs to look at the box (which I'm not going to do). All I know was that it was a pain in the you-know-what to put together.
"Mama," my son said. "I need help!"
I looked at what he had done and discovered an error. I corrected it and let him continue. Five minutes later, the same thing happened.
"Mama, I think you need to do this part. It's too hard."
I looked at the instructions. It was for assembling the cockpit. I went to work and assembled about a hundred pieces worth of Legos. It took me forever, because they pieces didn't stick together properly, and when pressure was applied on one side, the other side would fall apart. Completely annoying! Anyway, I finished that stinking cockpit and attempted to attach it to the rest of the spaceship thingy. And do you know what happened? Not only did the cockpit fall apart, but the entire side of the spaceship thingy fell off.
That made me mad! I said a few choice words and grabbed a Lego cannon. I fired a cannon ball at the decrepit spaceship thingy. It toppled over.
My son couldn't believe I did that. "Mama, you destroyed it!"
"Yep. Mama has declared a Lego war on that faulty Lego spaceship contraption thingy! It must die!"
(For those of you who are concerned about my unnaturally violent outburst, don't worry. I managed to complete the spaceship thingy five hours later, and my son is now happily playing with it.)
January 3, 2014
Bubba's Sundae
"Mama," my nine-year-old son said. "I'm going to make a sundae."
I raised my eyebrows. "Really?"
"Yep. I'll show you when I'm done." He went to work.
Fifteen minutes later he brought his concoction over to me. "What do you think?"
I took a look. And I didn't see one speck of ice cream. What I did see was peanuts, a red sauce that looked quite a bit like ketchup, and some white flakey things. "Dude, we don't have snow in Georgia, so what the heck are those flakey things?"
"Onions!"
"Onions? You made an onion, peanut, ketchup sundae?"
"Yeah, Mama. You should try some. It's good!"
No thanks!
I raised my eyebrows. "Really?"
"Yep. I'll show you when I'm done." He went to work.
Fifteen minutes later he brought his concoction over to me. "What do you think?"
I took a look. And I didn't see one speck of ice cream. What I did see was peanuts, a red sauce that looked quite a bit like ketchup, and some white flakey things. "Dude, we don't have snow in Georgia, so what the heck are those flakey things?"
"Onions!"
"Onions? You made an onion, peanut, ketchup sundae?"
"Yeah, Mama. You should try some. It's good!"
No thanks!
January 2, 2014
Booby Trapped
Hope you all had a great New Year! Thanks for all of the New Years greetings. I've been spending time with my kids since they've been out of school, so it's a little tough for me to be online blogging. I've got another crazy week, then things should get back to normal.
Why is it that a mom can't even go to the bathroom in peace? All I need is five minutes. Do I get it? No. The minute I go in, there's a kid shouting at me from the other side: "Mama, can you do this?" or "Mama, I need this..." Can't they wait until I'm done?
So today, when my son was shouting at me from the other side, I decided to ignore him. I couldn't hear a word he was saying, which was fine with me. (The fan has a great way of drowning out what's happening on the other side.)
When I tried to get out, I gave the door a push. But it wouldn't budge. What the heck? I thought. I pushed again and managed to squeeze my way out. What do you think I saw on the other side? A bath mat shoved against the door, and piles of towels and toiletries blocking my way.
"Bubba!" I yelled.
He came in looking all innocent.
"What's this?" I asked.
"A booby trap. I told you about it when you were in there. You should've listened!"
Why is it that a mom can't even go to the bathroom in peace? All I need is five minutes. Do I get it? No. The minute I go in, there's a kid shouting at me from the other side: "Mama, can you do this?" or "Mama, I need this..." Can't they wait until I'm done?
So today, when my son was shouting at me from the other side, I decided to ignore him. I couldn't hear a word he was saying, which was fine with me. (The fan has a great way of drowning out what's happening on the other side.)
When I tried to get out, I gave the door a push. But it wouldn't budge. What the heck? I thought. I pushed again and managed to squeeze my way out. What do you think I saw on the other side? A bath mat shoved against the door, and piles of towels and toiletries blocking my way.
"Bubba!" I yelled.
He came in looking all innocent.
"What's this?" I asked.
"A booby trap. I told you about it when you were in there. You should've listened!"
December 31, 2013
Prehistoric Pets
Our pet supply has dwindled over the last year. We used to have 26 pets (most of those were fish). Now we have three: a cat, a dog, and a frog. My nine-year-old son didn't think that was good enough. So when we went to Barnes and Noble book store and spotted a kit for growing triops, my son insisted we buy it. (Who knew you could find pets at a book store?)
A few days ago, we set up the aquarium (these are water creatures). We emptied half of the egg packet and waited for something to happen. Today something happened. Three baby triops hatched. What the heck is a triop? Let me show you:
Isn't it cute? Don't you want to snuggle up next to it?
Right.
Triops were around during the time of the dinosaurs. Somehow they managed to survive global warming and environmental pollution. Now let's see how long they survive in my son's room!
Hope you all have a very Happy New Year! Best wishes for 2014!
A few days ago, we set up the aquarium (these are water creatures). We emptied half of the egg packet and waited for something to happen. Today something happened. Three baby triops hatched. What the heck is a triop? Let me show you:
Isn't it cute? Don't you want to snuggle up next to it?
Right.
Triops were around during the time of the dinosaurs. Somehow they managed to survive global warming and environmental pollution. Now let's see how long they survive in my son's room!
Hope you all have a very Happy New Year! Best wishes for 2014!
December 28, 2013
Ghosts in the Gold Mine
Thank you to all who visited during the 'Tis More Blessed Giveaway. Milo James Fowler is the winner of my books. Congratulations, Milo!
I took my kids gold mining in the northern hills of Georgia. We had a great time. Our stash amounted to fifteen flakes of gold, so I guess we'd better not quit our day jobs! While we were on the underground mine tour, we heard a lot of tales about ghosts. Apparently quite a few folks died in the mine.
Our guide led us to a dark area. "Right in this very spot, the ceiling collapsed, killing all the workers under it. The supervisor was standing over there." He pointed to an area about twenty feet away. "He was so mortified about losing his workers, that he went home and didn't eat or drink. He died in about a week or so. It's said that his ghost comes back to take care of those he lost. So keep your eyes out for him."
That little speech totally freaked out my nine-year-old son. "Mama, do you think that's true?"
"I don't know, Bubba. But if it is, I doubt you're going to see him."
Bubba wasn't so sure of that. He stayed close by my side as we walked through the cold, damp tunnel. After a while, he stopped. "Look, Mama. What's that?" He pointed to a shadow on the wall. It wasn't very big, but it was an unusual shape.
I shrugged. "Let's check it out." I walked over to inspect. "It's a ghost." I said.
Bubba's eyes got big. "Really?"
"No, Bubba. Not really. It's a bat. See?"
I pointed at a cute fuzzy thing hanging from the ceiling.
Bubba breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh. It's just the ghost's pet."
I took my kids gold mining in the northern hills of Georgia. We had a great time. Our stash amounted to fifteen flakes of gold, so I guess we'd better not quit our day jobs! While we were on the underground mine tour, we heard a lot of tales about ghosts. Apparently quite a few folks died in the mine.
Our guide led us to a dark area. "Right in this very spot, the ceiling collapsed, killing all the workers under it. The supervisor was standing over there." He pointed to an area about twenty feet away. "He was so mortified about losing his workers, that he went home and didn't eat or drink. He died in about a week or so. It's said that his ghost comes back to take care of those he lost. So keep your eyes out for him."
That little speech totally freaked out my nine-year-old son. "Mama, do you think that's true?"
"I don't know, Bubba. But if it is, I doubt you're going to see him."
Bubba wasn't so sure of that. He stayed close by my side as we walked through the cold, damp tunnel. After a while, he stopped. "Look, Mama. What's that?" He pointed to a shadow on the wall. It wasn't very big, but it was an unusual shape.
I shrugged. "Let's check it out." I walked over to inspect. "It's a ghost." I said.
Bubba's eyes got big. "Really?"
"No, Bubba. Not really. It's a bat. See?"
I pointed at a cute fuzzy thing hanging from the ceiling.
Bubba breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh. It's just the ghost's pet."
December 26, 2013
'Tis More Blessed Giveaway and The Stink Zone
I know I'm a day early for this, but tomorrow I'm going gold mining with the kids, so ya'll are getting an extra day to participate.
Every Friday in December, as part of the 'Tis More Blessed Giveaway, hosted by Milo James Fowler, I have given away free copies of both of my books (That Mama is a Grouch, and That Baby Woke Me Up, AGAIN) to one lucky winner. This is the last Friday of the month, and therefore the last chance to win. Even if you already have copies, feel free to participate, because they could make great gifts for anyone you know. Just leave a comment below for a chance to win. These are hard copies of my book, and I am willing to mail them anywhere in the world. Be sure to visit Milo to find out who else is participating and have a chance to win their books as well.
Now for the story:
My twelve-year-old daughter is a girly girl. She likes makeup, fashion, and perfume. So for Christmas, I had the brilliant idea to get her a perfume-making kit. I don't know what I was thinking, but it sounded like a good idea at the time.
She opened the package and discovered fourteen vials of oils, ranging from woody, to citrus, to floral smells. "What do I do with these?" she asked.
"I think it would be a very good idea to read the directions and find out ."
She made a face and popped open one of the vials. She gave it a good sniff. "Ugh!" she said. "This smells like poop!"
I looked at the bottle. Musk. "That doesn't surprise me," I said.
She grabbed a citrus vile labeled, "Lemony." She opened it up and took a whiff. "Better."
Meanwhile, I had picked up the instructions and started reading. I knew the girl wasn't going to do it, so I figured I'd better give her some guidance. "Okay. Here's a sample recipe. You need five drops of Lemony, one drop of Mella, and six drops of Finalia."
She picked up a vile and suctioned up five drops. She put it in the mixing cup. "Mom," she said after she sniffed it. "This doesn't smell like Lemony."
I took a sniff. "Nope. I think it's Mella."
"What do I do?"
"Multiply all the totals by five."
I let her do her thing. When she was done, I sniffed the finished product. "Whoa. That's strong! What the heck did you put in there?"
"Fifteen drops of Lemony, twenty five drops of Mella, and six drops of Finalia."
I shook my head. "Girl, do you not know how to multiply?"
She grinned. "Yeah, but I think something is wrong with my nose, because it stinks in here and I can't smell a darn thing!"
(Uh huh. And apparently sitting in the stink zone has adverse affects on one's brain, thereby decreasing one's ability to do math!)
December 24, 2013
Cup Games
At my son's school Christmas party, there were a variety of games - toss the marshmallows through the wreath into the bucket, Hershey kiss unwrap, candy cane hook, and jingle bell jump. It was my job to man the snowball ping pong game. Kids were supposed to bounce a ping pong ball into plastic red cups.
I stood behind the table, ready to catch whatever balls came my way. Easy, right? Wrong! Not when you have six kids lined up with balls, all bouncing them as high as they could. Those wild balls went everywhere!
"Hey," I said. "Can we do a tamer version of this game? How about one at a time, and try to aim for the cup."
They thought about that. Then my son had a brilliant idea (go figure!). "Let's play bowling!" He grabbed the cups, lined them up, and rolled the balls, knocking them down.
"Okay," I said. "This is interesting." It went smoothly for a while, but then the balls and cups started flying everywhere.
I sighed. "Time for another game."
Another kid had an idea. "Let's make a cup castle."
Everybody thought that was great, so they made a towering masterpiece. Which worked just fine, until another kid decided that it was time for an earthquake to strike. The tower toppled over.
"Anybody else have a brilliant idea for what to do with cups and balls?" I asked.
We went through a bunch of games, including, "guess which cup the balls are under."
Finally one little girl grabbed a cup. "Cup song!" she announced. She did a lovely rendition of the infamous cup song, after which everyone segued into the "What does the Fox Say?"
Cup, cup, cup, cup cup, cup, cup cup cup cup, cup cup cup cup cup, cup!
Oy!
Merry Christmas, everybody! Hope you enjoy the day with your families!
I stood behind the table, ready to catch whatever balls came my way. Easy, right? Wrong! Not when you have six kids lined up with balls, all bouncing them as high as they could. Those wild balls went everywhere!
"Hey," I said. "Can we do a tamer version of this game? How about one at a time, and try to aim for the cup."
They thought about that. Then my son had a brilliant idea (go figure!). "Let's play bowling!" He grabbed the cups, lined them up, and rolled the balls, knocking them down.
"Okay," I said. "This is interesting." It went smoothly for a while, but then the balls and cups started flying everywhere.
I sighed. "Time for another game."
Another kid had an idea. "Let's make a cup castle."
Everybody thought that was great, so they made a towering masterpiece. Which worked just fine, until another kid decided that it was time for an earthquake to strike. The tower toppled over.
"Anybody else have a brilliant idea for what to do with cups and balls?" I asked.
We went through a bunch of games, including, "guess which cup the balls are under."
Finally one little girl grabbed a cup. "Cup song!" she announced. She did a lovely rendition of the infamous cup song, after which everyone segued into the "What does the Fox Say?"
Cup, cup, cup, cup cup, cup, cup cup cup cup, cup cup cup cup cup, cup!
Oy!
Merry Christmas, everybody! Hope you enjoy the day with your families!
