Pink Prickly Pear

The obligatory smashing of the cake.

What's so great about this?  Sort of slippery and smushy.  Didn't I already eat something?

Ohhhhhhhh.  I think this could be good. 

Yeah.  Definitely good.  And a lot sweeter than bananas...

My mouth just isn't big enough to do what I want it to do!

Domo arigato!

We were in a bit of a naptime rut (ie. Hannah Montana marathon), so I busted out the origami. 

Happy Birthday!

That was fast!

So I did finally figure it out, but I am still feeling very eye-rolly about FB.

I kind of hate facebook.

It does things I don't want it to do. 

Which is why I deleted my account last time.

But then everyone and their mother got on there and I was kind of feeling like I was missing the party.

But now it pulled up my old (deleted) account and there's this big old widget on my (previously anonymous-ish blog) with my real name and a link to my facebook page and I can't figure out how to delete the damn thing.

I have so.much.time.for.this.

Old habits die hard, but eventually they do actually die.

This afternoon, I was getting d'anjou out of his carseat and I noticed Mini-Pear's white karate Gi crumpled on the back seat.  She has class later on this evening.

I sort of tutted and drew in a deepish breath - the sort of deepish breath one might need in advance of a Nag Attack.  One might start with something like, "How many times have I told you not to just chuck your Gi on the back seat like this?"  or "Look at the state your uniform is in!" 

I say "start", because a Nag Attack is not, in its nature, short.  Twenty minutes later, the relentless, one-sided conversation would have ranged from crumpled uniforms to how you hardly even remember what her bedroom floor looks like, and by the way, when's the last time you brushed your hair and didn't you tell me you'd clean off your desk last week?

But I caught myself and the tutt-ish deep breath actually morphed into what might best be described as a self-deprecating chuckle, because whose brown shirt was that crumpled up just next to the karate Gi?  Uh, that would be mine.  I thought I might need it the other day, but I didn't and there it remains.  It was clean, but now it's all wrinkly and the baby's drooled on it and I'm going to have to wash it all over again.  And since she doesn't like Mars bars, that would be my cast off wrapper stuffed in between the seat and the hand brake, sticky caramel side up.

So instead of launching into what would surely have ruined a perfectly good afternoon, I stopped short of unbuckling the boy and picked up the Gi pants and gave them a good hard shake, "I probably should have washed these after your last class.  Oh well.  Do you think if I just brush them off and fold them loosely they will be in good enough shape for class tonight?"

And Mini-Pear looked over her shoulder, "Yeah.  I think that's fine."  Afternoon rescued.  No harm done.  No resentments built up. 

Over the last week or so, I've noticed how much the things I want to change around me, are actually things I want to change within me.  How many years now have I read or listened to variations on this theme and nodded emphatically, and promptly forgotten about it?

I guess I should just be thankful it's happening at all.

That is one thick skull wrapped around my grey matter.

Playing catch up!

We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves at Good Vibrations, despite getting hit with the worst cold (I sort of wished I could crawl into a hole on Saturday - and, indeed, did not get out of bed until around ten o'clockish, while Mr. Pear got slammed with it on Sunday).  We hardly saw Mini-Pear, and when we did it was with a gaggle of her girlfriends, excitedly skipping from funshops to the pool to each others' hotel rooms and back out to the pool again.  Mr. Pear and I traded off time in the toddler room with d'anjou, and got to listen to some inspiring speakers, and to just hang out with new and old friends (and each other - awww).  And, as usual, it was just refreshing to hang out with that many unschoolers.  I think the below photo of one of my favorite small people sums it all up.  In the first place, Jonas is way cuter than me, and I did not get my face painted! Some sort of party pooper.

At some point, not staying at the hotel seemed like a good idea.  I didn't realize the Doubletree was pet-friendly until the week before the conference.  Boarding the dog, while staying at hotel 15 minutes from our home, seemed extravagant, until I was trying to get everyone up and out the door by 9 a.m. on Friday morning.  We never need to be anywhere at 9 a.m!  And we wouldn't have had to leave all the fun mid-afternoon, just to walk No No Bad Dog.  And I could have turned in early without compromising Mini-Pear's good time.

I vote we gently encourage Flo to do it all over again next year;)

just because...

I put on a clean pair of shorts this morning...

and now there is baby pee all over them.  It's 10:02.

While I am whining, why is it we all come down with horrible colds in our noses right before things we do not want to be sick for?  ie. the local unschooling conference we've been looking forward to for over a year now!

Yay/Boo "I bet they're all going to wake up soon" Edition

This one, and all future Yay/Boo posts are for Dawn (who sweated it out with me a bit last week).

Yay - I think the wickedly hot weather finally broke. Or maybe it's just cooling down a bit at night? 

Related Yay - that was some excellent beach weather!  I think we've been just about every day for a week.

Related Boo - those were some hot, sticky sleepless 3-in-a-bed nights on the extremely comfortable yet warmer than average Tempurpedic mattress.

Boo - The car overheated on us in the In'n'Out drive thru.  We must have looked like total 'bamas.  We were in the drive thru in the first place because we were all half nekkid, wet and sandy and then the car just started steaming and the poor little girl at the window started squeaking about our car being on fire, "Oh! Oh! Oh!  Turn it off!  Get out!"

Related Life Experience Boo (or is it Yay?  It's all in the past and makes a good story!) - Our car was not, as the poor little In'n'Out employee claimed, on fire.  I've survived (that makes it sound so dramatic!) not one, but two car fires.  During the first one, the brakes also failed and my dad and I had to drive around in circles in a tight 7-11 parking lot until the car (a 1961 MGB) finally stopped.  I was only too happy to bid adieu to the second car which caught on fire - a 1984? Plymouth Turismo which hydroplaned at the drop of a hat (or, to be more realistic, water) and was, by all accounts a rather hideous snub nosed looking beast that never carried the multitudes of candy ravers we packed in it comfortably.

Boo - Obviously, the car is in the shop and I have no idea how much it's all going to cost.

Sort of related Yay (because I can buy a gelato at Bubby's for about $4 and my car repair is going to cost way more than that) - Our repair shop was offering free chocolate hazelnut gelato to all customers on Friday.

Yay - Taste of car-free living in coastal SoCal?  Not too shabby.  Out of necessity, we  walked to the closest grocery store, a rather downtrodden Vons that does not even have a candy aisle.  No really, I asked and the poor store employee sort of shrugged his shoulders with a sad, sagging No gots gesture.  We decided to get ice cream at the equally downtrodden looking RiteAid next door, only to discover that there is a genuine Ice Cream Counter tucked away in there.  I jokingly asked if I could get a malted and lo!  They did have a chocolate malted flavored ice-cream.  I was only kidding about actually wanting any malty flavor and got my usual - mint chocolate chip (unless it is February at Baskin Robins, in which I get the flavor of the month - a raspberry chocolate ripple concoction to die for).

Photographic evidence!  So retro!  Look at the weird shape of the scoops!  Pay no attention to our lemming stroller! 

Also, in the same shopping center?  A pizza joint that host bluegrass nights and a little Mexican place with bangin' reviews posted in the window. We fully admit to having judged our local shabby shopping center by it's dated exterior.  Sorry, local shopping center, we won't do it again.

As predicted, they are awake...