Car rug kids
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Car Rug Kids
- (kid) child: a young person of either sex; "she writes books for children"; "they're just kids"; "`tiddler' is a British term for youngster"
- Deceive or fool (someone)
- Deceive (someone) in a playful or teasing way
- (kid) pull the leg of: tell false information to for fun; "Are you pulling my leg?"
- (kid) be silly or tease one another; "After we relaxed, we just kidded around"
- A road vehicle, typically with four wheels, powered by an internal combustion engine and able to carry a small number of people
- the compartment that is suspended from an airship and that carries personnel and the cargo and the power plant
- A vehicle that runs on rails, esp. a railroad car
- A railroad car of a specified kind
- a motor vehicle with four wheels; usually propelled by an internal combustion engine; "he needs a car to get to work"
- a wheeled vehicle adapted to the rails of railroad; "three cars had jumped the rails"
- A small carpet woven in a pattern of colors, typically by hand in a traditional style
- A thick woolen coverlet or wrap, used esp. when traveling
- floor covering consisting of a piece of thick heavy fabric (usually with nap or pile)
- Rhug (normally Y Rug in Welsh; sometimes given the antiquarian spelling Rug) is a township in the parish of Corwen, Denbighshire, Wales, formerly in the old cantref of Edeirnion and later a part of Merionethshire, two miles from CorwenRug Chapel and ten miles north east of Bala.
- A rug (UK), blanket(Equine and other livestock, US), or coat (canine and other companion animals, US) is a covering or garment made by humans to protect their pets from the elements, as in a horse rug or dog coat.
- A floor covering of shaggy or woven material, typically not extending over the entire floor
December 1st, 2009 - Matthew came over for his longest visit yet... When he arrived that morning, I wasn't so sure I'd survive it.
He's so different from the kids
I've dealt with previously. He. Never. Stops. He came in my door buzzing and he never stopped. And at 8 am in the morning, I am far from buzzing... I'm, well, barely puttering along.
Our morning started with me laying down one very important rule. NO touching my tree. Later, he used that against me. Then, I asked him what he wanted for breakfast. Yet again, the child was beyond weird. I offered everything from pancakes with fruit to eggs and toast. Heck, even sugary cereal. He said no to all. He wanted his cup o'noodle. Yum. Not. So, I made myself pancakes and boiled the water for his noodles.
He danced precariously around the stove until I finally told him the rug in front of the stove was off limits. "Is the rug hot?", he asked. I just decided to go with that so I told him yes. He didn't step on the rugs
We had our breakfasts of choice while watching Sponge Bob. He desperately wanted to go outside but it was so biting cold out, I didn't want to go out just yet! He swatted an ornament on my tree. Just to prove his point, ya know.
At 11 am, I gave in and we went outside. Not before he noticed my hat hanging behind the door. This kid misses nothing. He comes into a house scoping out the walls. So, out we went. Me and the little cowboy.
First stop was Mimi's house. They had him a lovely, generous Christmas gift and I kinda hoped that'd help with entertaining him :P He very happily opened his gifts and seemed very pleased with each and every one. I have to say, I love how social and friendly this little guy is. He thanked them each and hugged them without complaint.
He played with his cars for a bit then danced back and forth to their living room and dining room. Kind of gave me heart failure, seeing as like me, they have very fragile ornaments and Christmas things. :x
We stayed for lunch and chowed down on some homemade pizza. He surprised me by eating 2 whole slices! Little man was hungry after those icky noodles.
We decided it was time to pop in and see my mom after Mimi's house. He and Pooh Bear hit it off as usual. Finally, something with energy to match his! They ran rampant, played with his cars and just bounced about for a bit. I thought he might lose some of that energy! Wasn't the case ;) He has an endless supply.
I rounded him up and we ran a few more errands. Finally, we popped over to the neighbors to see what I needed to do while they're gone on their trip. He behaved fairly well. Barbara gave him a oatmeal raisin cookie and grape juice plus she flipped the tv to Sponge Bob... Bought us a bit of time :P He almost fell asleep in my arms once while visiting. ALMOST. He realized he was falling asleep and jarred himself awake, though.
We visited for a bit and they sent him a big bag of blocks to play with. He's not the least bit spoiled, eh?
I had gotten a phone call from my dad saying it would be much later than expected before he'd be here. As in after dark. So, I had to figure out what to do with Mr. Fearless.
He's not bothered by my chickens, in fact, he feeds them from his hand. My goats don't scare him in the least. BUT, I didn't want him running through the middle of my flock as they came to bed and spreading them here, there and yonder!
So, I dropped him off at my mom's with a few of his cars. He had no issue with that at all, yet again. Incredibly social kid!
I finished up my chores in record time and came back to my mom's. I walked in to hear a clatter. Kind of freaked me out, thinking "What is he wrecking?!" :x but I found he and my mom lying in front of the stove crashing toy cars into it... Apparently, my mother is still very much a kid at heart :P
Around 7 pm, my dad picked the little man and his loot up. Almost 12 hours of Matthew and I lived to tell about it ;)
Really, he's a precious child. Typically, very sweet and funny. But his energy level? WOW. He never, ever sits down. Ever. He even eats standing up.
All in all, we had a great day. Exhausting, but great. He's a fun boy.
dansk you suck....
keep in mind i actually adore danskware.... but at the moment the shine's off the relationship a bit. the first time it happened, it was with an incredibly lovely pitcher that was a wedding present from my niece, filled with fresh squeezed juice, five minutes before twenty people were about to show for a birthday brunch. BOOM! the bottom drops out of the pitcher, juice everywhere, all over the dining room rug, chairs, and cat. wonderful niece hears about it, gives me this lovely replacement as a gift.
this time it was in the middle of an afternoon with a 103 degree heat index and 99% humidity. joel's down at nih having his own hell of a good time reading grants (do you know what this war is doing to scientific funding...it's not pretty.) mia's cranky and sick with an ear infection and running a fever, she's craving lemonade, but far too sick to walk the four blocks to the grocery store. so i gather her up, put her in the car, drive to the grocery store. i only pick up one can of lemonade, despite the fact that my far wiser four and a half year old says: "get two! get two!" but i figure i have all forty pounds of her on one hip, and a grocery basket filled with a gallon of organic milk,and half gallon of regular milk, strawberries, blackberries, blueberries, cookies (because dammit, i need them) and 2 dozen eggs on the other, and not wanting to tempt fate and god forbid drop the bloody eggs, I hold firm, "No, one's enough." not to mention the lemonade feels really squishy, like their freezer might be broken. is it even safe to give her this? can you get food poisoning from unrefrigerated lemonade? "naah!" So out to the oven/car, put the groceries into the trunk. get the 40 pound kid, eggs, berries into the house in one piece, and am additionally thrilled that i haven't gotten in an accident, since i've had barely two hours sleep, (those of you who know me well, know that well...i don't often see 6:15 wake ups, because my fantastically wonderful husband does the early am parenting around here.) but i'm in the home stretch of the beverage run....put the now extremely syrupy lemonade mixture into the dansk pitcher, fill the pitcher to the brim water, stir the lemonade, turn around to fill mia's glass and BOOM! the bottom drops out. i stand there stupefied staring through my pulp splattered glasses at the handle i'm holding, and the lemonade running down my legs, dripping from the sink, the dishwasher, the stove, my dress, my kid's head (yes, poor lemonade craving waif) and the massive 5' by 6' foot puddle that's sliding it's way across the (f@!%, fu%k just washed yesterday, dammit) kitchen floor like a greased olympic luge coming to rest peacefully under the kitchen stove. from somewhere in the room, other than my now down on all fours, mopping up lemonade with a dishtowel prone body, i hear a small pitiful voice say, "mommy, can i have some lemonade?"
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