Arkie Mama: Wordless Wednesday
Even then, he was an early riser. And his mommy? Well, she finds mornings painful.
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Archive for December, 2009
Arkie Mama: Christmas ‘09
We had a wonderful holiday, but I sure am grateful for a long weekend of relaxation!
Christmas Eve: Getting ready to make cookies. (no, i'm not preggers. it's the shirt)
Someone would rather eat the frosting than use it for decorating.
Leaving cookies for Santa, carrots for reindeer
The scene is set.
A sampling of this year's artwork.
Santa came!
Hot Wheels and Calico Critters
Cece's here!
My stepdaughter was supposed to come over Christmas Eve, but all the flooding prevented that from happening. Finally, Christmas afternoon, more roads had opened, allowing her to eat dinner with us.
Others were not so fortunate, and spent Christmas Eve and day in evacuation shelters. This was Arkansas’ wettest year since 1882. It’s a record we’d rather not break anytime in the next several decades, believe me.
Arkie Mama: Wordless Wednesday
May all your holiday wishes ...
... come true.
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Arkie Mama: An open letter to mall Santa parents
Dear people with whom I stood in line yesterday:
Each year, I’m amazed by the number of you who think that your 7-month-old will not only sit compliantly on some strange old guy’s lap, but will look directly at the camera and offer a beatific smile.
REALITY, people. REALITY.
You’re NOT going to get that perfect picture. Not with an infant. Not with an unpredictable, squirming toddler. It will not happen.
So please, for the preservation of my sanity — DO NOT SPEND 10 MINUTES HOGGING SANTA WHILE THE REST OF US — those who understand the reality of small children and picture-taking — WAIT NOT SO PATIENTLY.
It’s rude. And delusional.
Besides, the kid-freaking-out-on-Santa’s lap photos are the most fun. Those are the pictures relatives will pull out years later and cackle over.
Those attempted posed shots? BORING.
So move on. My kid wants to tell Santa that she wants a reindeer for Christmas. We don’t have time to wait for your 2-month-old to muster his/her very first-ever smile.
Secondly — those of you who try to cut in line, using the excuse that you have a small child — LOOK AROUND! Everyone in line has a small child. So move to the back and wait like everyone else, please.
I don’t mean to be testy. But the only reason I enter a mall during Christmas season is so the kids can visit Santa. Other than that, I avoid such places because crowds of people make me hostile.
In case you hadn’t noticed.
Arkie Mama: I want to adopt this couple as my grandparents
Meet the Catos. I first met them as they stood in front of the ruins of their blackened home. A gas leak had caused an explosion.
E.J. is 94. Flora is 85. Despite having lost everything, the Catos were cheerful and joking around. “We still have each other,” they explained.
That day marked the first time, in my 16 years of reporting, that I left the scene of a disaster feeling uplifted. Sheriff’s deputies and other reporters later described feeling the same way.
In today’s newspaper, there’s a folo on the Catos. I’ve pasted it below. But first, check out this photo of me with the couple. Don’t they look like they should be my grandparents?
Aren't they just precious?
Now here’s the story:
Arkie Mama: You gotta love kids’ candor
So up until a week ago, the children’s Thanksgiving art remained hanging on a bulletin board at the daycare.
On little handprint turkeys, each child in the E-man’s class had written what they’re grateful for.
Examples included: I am grateful for …
My mommy.
My daddy.
My brother/sister.
Then I got to the E-man’s, which read: I am grateful for …
My dog.
Hmmph.
Arkie Mama: Christmas 2007 Wordless Wednesday
For those of you who didn’t read this morning’s Forces of Nurture column, go here.
Those of you who came here via the column, I now present a few pictures taken during the Christmas of Calamities. (Note: Tootie’s very short hair was the result of her experimentation with scissors. It took a year to grow back out. Go here for a glimpse of what she managed to do to herself.)
And now, photos:
Trimming the tree
Arranging the Nativity Scene
Waiting for their turn with Santa.
Tootie shows Santa a drawing she did just for him.
The E-man suddenly remembers his aversion to Santa.
Away in a Manger
We're supposed to sing? In front of all these people?
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Arkie Mama: Attack of the squirrels
So take your average squirrel:
Cute, no?
A bit rodenty for my taste, but the bushy tail helps me forgive him for his origins.
Awhile back, the E-man kept having nightmares about squirrels. His piercing screams in the middle of the night sent us sprinting down the hallway, convinced there must be a real live animal lurking in his bedroom.
“When did he develop such a fear of squirrels?” I asked Hubs.
“I have no idea,” my spouse replied.
“You didn’t let them watch anything questionable on Discovery, did you?” I pressed.
“No! We haven’t seen any shows that feature squirrels. And besides, what could possibly make them look scary? They run around clutching acorns. It’s not like they’re launching themselves at antelope or gazelles.”
And then it hit me.
Each week, the kids’ daycare has Movie Day. The teachers are pretty strict about what movies children can bring in. Only G-rated movies allowed.
Could it be that someone had successfully smuggled in the 2005 version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?
I did a little Googling and pulled up this clip from YouTube. It shows the complete squirrel scene, during which 100 or so squirrels launch themselves at Veruca as she screams and thrashes. Eventually, they surround her, tap her on the head and then carry her off to the hole that will dump Veruca into the incinerator — which, luckily, isn’t working.
Rabid squirrels
Scheming squirrels
Well, hell. That scene creeped me out. No wonder the little E-man was so terrified.
This happened last year. I figured he had long gotten over his fear of squirrels — until this morning.
As we walked out onto the front porch, the E-man froze.
“Squirrel!” he shrieked. Then he vanished back into the house, slamming the door behind him.
This morning’s incident eradicated any lingering guilt I had about not taking him to see Up with Tootie.
Because this —
"SQUIRREL!"
— would surely have plunged the E-man into hysterics.
Arkie Mama: Perfect Linda strikes again
First, the background:
My mother-in-law — known by all as Mammaw — passed away last February. This will be the family’s first Christmas without her. At the time of her death, Mammaw had three sons, 11 grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.
Three three sons, from eldest to youngest, are Hubs, Steve and Burt.
Steve married Perfect Linda three years after Hubs’ and my wedding. Steve brought four adult children to the marriage; Linda has two adult daughters and a 15-year-old son.
Steve’s sons are the ones who gave Mammaw here great-grandchildren.
Still with me?
OK, so when Steve’s kids started having babies, Perfect Linda went by “Granny.” She doesn’t look like a granny, but to each their own.
Hubs and I took the kids down to his dad’s house this weekend. My father-in-law goes by “Papaw,” which I always thought went well with “Mammaw.”
Saturday afternoon, Steve and Perfect Linda came over with Steve’s oldest grandchild, Seth, age 2 1/2.
And suddenly, Perfect Linda went from Granny to Mammaw.
My brother-in-law referred to her as Mammaw throughout the whole visit. “Go ask your Mammaw,” he would say, prompting all of us to swivel our necks in anticipation of seeing the REAL Mammaw, who, of course, is no longer with us.
This is Mammaw, matriarch of the family.
The Real Mammaw
Now granted, I have issues with Perfect Linda. (She’s moody and has no sense of humor. Plus, she won’t allow my brother-in-law to have anything to do with his family. Yeah, I know. He doesn’t have to obey. But he does. Point is, she doesn’t like us.)
So to hear Steve refer to Linda as Mammaw struck me as inappropriate and galling. Not to mention, confusing to the youngest grandchildren and the great-grandchildren. I mean, Mammaw was Mammaw. Perfect Linda is NOT Mammaw.
I’d be interested in hearing your opinions, however, since Hubs plans to talk to his brother about Perfect Linda’s bizarre metamorphosis from Granny to Mammaw.
I say that given the circumstances, she should stick with Granny or pick something other than Mammaw.
I can’t figure out where the name change came from. Did she do it? Or is Steve trying to create a new Mammaw?
Thoughts?
Arkie Mama: Beautiful young mother and child
Hubs shot these gorgeous photos today, and I just had to share.
Tashee and Ryleigh
Sweet baby
Tiny hands
Motherlove
Arkie Mama
Meet Cathy Frye — deer widow, mama to two small children and stepmom to two teenagers. By day, she writes for the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. By night, she Googles things like “whooping cough symptoms” or “child ate toothpaste.” Cathy describes herself as barefoot, breeding and medicated. Her husband considers her a real catch! Read more about Cathy.
