The Rosy Homemaker
Posted by Rose Thompson on December 8, 2013
Ahhh…our beloved Elf on the Shelf named JoeJoe is back. I may be just as excited as my kids that he is present for duty and reporting to jolly old Saint Nick on all of my kids’ nice and naughty behavior.
When we awoke the day after Thanksgiving to find that he had returned to our bustling home after his calm hiatus at the North Pole, my seven year old promptly pointed out that he misspelled his name in the glitter that he lovingly left behind on our mantle (for Mom to clean up). My son showed me in the book where we recorded JoeJoe’s name last year when Santa made the special delivery to our doorstep containing this little sneaky sprite and his official book. JoeJoe, how could you misspell your name? My son seems to think you were in a hurry! I agree with him.
I can’t wait to see all the places JoeJoe will hide out in our home over the course of this month. He sure is fun to seek out (or so my kids say). In fact it’s so fun for them that they have deemed it necessary to wake up an extra hour or more early in the morning to find this guy and to wake up dear hubby, their siblings, and I from our long winters’ naps with shouts of excitement. Sigh…
I’m glad you’re here, JoeJoe. Don’t get me wrong. After a month of your shenanigans which I am sure will involve messes in the kitchen, toilet paper, midnight hot cocoa making, green potty water, rides in Barbie’s convertible, candy cane fishing, possibly more glitter, etc., I’ll also be glad when you “get back, JoeJoe.”
Posted by Rose Thompson on November 17, 2013
As a genetically flawed (this side of sane) Type A overachiever, I bathe all three of my kids in one fell swoop most nights. It’s awful. It’s more than one parent should handle – thirty fingers, thirty toes, three heads of hair, lots of crevices, 60+ teeth brushed, and major hyperactive nudeness. It’s not a good choice. It’s definitely something I must stop doing. One kid in the bathroom at a time seems much more sane, but it’s also a slower process (or so it seems). I’m all for speed when it’s time to put the kids TO BED at the end of a long day. Tonight one of my bigger ones (I’ll protect his/her anonymity) was in the shower while the other bigger, unclad one was standing outside the shower dancing around awaiting his/her turn because he/she refused to simply hop in the tub with the baby. Baby was happily splashing around in his tub seat in the adjacent garden tub as I stealthily washed his chunky cheeks…all four of them. Our nice master bathroom is kids’ central every night. There’s nothing
Posted by Rose Thompson on November 10, 2013
I’ve got a bad case of dreaded writer’s block. This is what happens to me when my world is spinning at a pace much like that of the Earth’s rotation, a mere 1037.5646 miles per hour. My brain, the axis, is slowly firing neurons by the end of a bustling week like this. Thus, I can’t think to speak clearly let alone write. Here’s the kind of week I’ve had… My washer died last Friday. Water wasn’t draining or filling the machine properly. A service repairman explained that the part could be here in four business days. Excellent – I couldn’t wait to wait through the weekend + three days to get this thing delivered to my porch. The next available service appointment was, of course, ten days out. I guess they safely estimate those dates so as to include any shipping difficulties of these ridiculous parts that break way too frequently. He even told me his conspiracy theory that appliance companies cheaply manufacture these parts and ask consumers to spend big money on these extended
Posted by Rose Thompson on November 3, 2013
I t seems like yesterday, but a few years ago, during a snack break my eldest with a look of disgust shouted at my middle child: "Use a spoon! You’re breaking the rules of Jell-O!!” It’s another one of those kidisms that I have filed away to share with my kids when they start dating as a subtle means of embarrassment. Parents are good like that, and I look forward to utilizing that right as a parent. By the time my kids are teens I will have more than earned it. My biggest boy has always been a bit of a boss man in my free spirited little lady’s presence, but she has never had trouble standing her ground because she was graced with a voice seven times the size of her beanpole body. While they’re seemingly Type A & Type B polar opposites, they do know how to balance their little, growing personalities. At the time, it was pretty gross to witness her scooping gelatinous food with her fingers as she ate it, but I didn’t put the kibosh on it the way my eldest so abruptly did. That's one
Posted by Rose Thompson on October 27, 2013
It’s here. My birthday week has arrived. I’m officially the dark side of thirty. I’m excited about the next thirty-six years, and I am hopeful to live past them! Most folks in my family have been lucky enough to do so. Most of all, I am excited about what the second part of my life has in store. My kids growing up (well, let’s be honest, that never really happens…), their teen years (maybe I’m more scared about those vs. excited), their college years (yep, those terrify me, too, I know what I was like…), their weddings (alright, the dollar figures are adding up in my brain, and we all know NO spouse will be good enough for ANY of my babies), and their children (NO – my babies having babies – ACK!)… This really does feel like some sort of Robert Frost moment for me. It’s also been hard to wrap my head around the fact that just this year my dear hubby and I celebrated knowing each other longer than the age we were when we met! We were high school sweethearts that happened to survive the college