Sprite's Keeper

Public Service Announcement

Good morning. As the ambassador and namesake of Sprite's World, I am here to speak to you about a troubling matter affecting toddlers all over the world.

My council has spent minutes upon minutes researching a troubling epidemic sweeping the world and I am using my status to speak out against this horrible and unjust practice.

In fact, my own behavior was called into question during the 2008 Emmy Awards. Therefore, I have taken personal responsibility for calling attention to this hated condition.

I'm talking about naps. Naps are the number one cause of disrupted play time among children ages 1 through 4. Naps have been responsible for lost play time, lost tv time, lost reading time, and most importantly, lost doggie hunting time.

Due to this deplorable system of parent enforced slumber, toddlers have had to endure hours of nursery rhymes and misdiagnoses of "She's tired" and "He needs a nap" when the child is only trying to explore their world, their community, protect the environment, etc. Children are missing opportunities to learn, to express their individuality,  and express their emotions with these daily snoozes.

Plus, after nap times, toddlers have been documented to be quiet, reserved, and stationary when there are walls to be colored, songs to be screamed, snacks to demand. This had led to earlier bedtimes, missed opportunities to test the limits, and less activity as a whole. I have spoken at length with random groups of toddlers who are "tired" of this treatment and are looking for solutions.

I am asking all toddlers out there to join the effort to abolish nap times, for these alleged "nap times" are mere ruses for an even worse affliction, parental free time.

Have you ever wondered what your parents do when you are banned to your room? Have you ever wondered if they're truly sleeping as they promise you they are? I cannot count the number of times - I can't count, but that's irrelevant- that my own parents have told me that they themselves are going to sleep and the dogs are going to sleep and all my Minnie's have already fallen asleep in an effort to have me lay down in the middle of the day.

Yet, after they leave my room, if I listen very carefully, I hear Blue's collar jangling or Harry growling, or Mommy and Daddy talking. And sometimes laughing! Having fun! Without me!

We have confirmed findings that parental free time can lead to refreshed adults, destruction of carefully placed toy masterpieces, and worst of all, a possible sibling.

So, please, take the time you would normally set aside for napping and join me in fighting this enemy of energy. Together, we can all sandblast the Sandman and take back our toddlerhood.

It's time to put naps to sleep.

Now is not the time to give zzzz's a chance.

Thank you.

This message paid for and approved by Sprite.

So there.

Recipe (Mess)ipe

Attention, world! I have an announcement! I am not a cook. That is all.

It's well known in my family that I am not the greatest of cooks. There are a couple of things I can make, only one thing I can make well, (at least that's what I've been told) (they could have been lying..) and the rest of the cooking I leave to John.

However, I watched my father-in-law make a pot roast one day and it just involved a lot of dumping things into a pot and letting it sit on the stove top. Huh. Okay, so you drop the roast in, add a can of diced tomatoes, a can of tomato paste, sauce, water, and seasonings and then just leave it there for a couple of hours. And it cooks itself? With minimal involvement on my behalf? Really. I must try this.

So I did. And John liked it! And Sprite ate it! No one died! And it was good. I started making this meal every weekend and got a little more adventurous. I made mashed potatoes, from scratch! That's right, this "from a box"ed in kitchen wrecking ball who believed in the God of Freeze Dried Potato Flakes actually diverted from tradition and went the extra step. Why? Eh, I wanted lumps. But it worked! And it was good.

John became inspired by my increased interest in the culinary world and vowed to get us a good set of pots and pans. The ones we had were awful. Food stuck to them incessantly. We tried olive oil, butter spray, prayer, nothing worked. So, John came home one day with a brand spanking new set of pots and pans, the same day that I was making a pot roast for dinner, for my parents, who were in town visiting, and had heard about how I could rock a roast. Sense the foreboding? No? FOREBODING! (Just looking out for you.)

My dad and I had stayed home working on the baseboards in our family room since John and I would like to look at a color on the wall. (Primer does not constitute a color. It's true. I checked.) John and my mother took Sprite out for the day and around 3:30, I took a break from helping my dad (Oh, he took the lead in this one. I had to let him. We're so alike, we would have been butting heads. And the baseboards would never have gotten done. Mom, please don't comment on this.) (Ah! Fingers off the comment link! I see you!) and prepped the pot roast where it then sat on the stove basking in the heat of it's own sauna.

Some time around 4:30, John and Mom and the kid arrived home and John was just SO EXCITED about the new pots he had bought. I ooh'ed and ah'ed appropriately and then meandered off to find Sprite who was trying to corner Harry. (Poor dog. But that's another post entirely.)

While I was gone, (FOREBODING!) John decided he just HAD to try out one of the new pots. He dumped the contents of the pot roast from the old pot to the new pot and settled it back into the same spot it had occupied earlier. I would have been none the wiser about his shenanigans if I hadn't come back to the kitchen and seen red spots all over my just cleaned counter. (I'm anal. You know.)

I looked at the mess and then at the stove. The new pot? He transferred dinner from the old pot which I would not have had to clean after dinner and just toss out into the new pot which I was now going to HAVE to clean after dinner? I won't lie to you. (You look great today, by the way. Honest!) I was upset.

I took a deep breath, let it go, and started preparing the rest of the meal. When the timer sounded, (FOREBODING!) I lifted the lid on the pot and looked inside. Um, no, it wasn't supposed to look like a gloppy greasy mess. I took one of the flanks out of the pot and propped it on a plate where I promptly began slicing. Stringy, slimy pieces came off one by one.

Dinner was ruined. And for once, it wasn't my fault.

We had a blow out, right there in the kitchen in front of my parents, whom I had to send out for a rotisserie chicken while I sat and stewed in my own juices the rest of the night. (I imagine I would have been very tender.)

Since that disastrous day, I have been reluctant to cook. Especially since last night, when John brought home a fire extinguisher and made a big deal about where to stow it, "just in case". (Okay, now he's just being a schmuck.) (I understand that every kitchen should have a fire extinguisher and even Julia Child could have caused a couple of 3 alarm blazes in her day, but John's timing? Very schmucky.)

Now, of course, due to the economy being what it is (Um, quick tangent, can we send the economy to Time Out? Cuz it's been a BAD BAD BOY!), we are eating more meals at home and trying to stay away from the restaurant circuit. So, I am on the look out for some recipes, hopefully healthy ones, that are easy to make, and don't require much, you know, involvement. From me. In fact, let's assume that John will make the meals. All the meals.

I'm asking for your easiest time saving recipes. What is your go-to for when you come home and need to get something on the table in under 30 minutes? I'm not looking for Rachael Ray, I know where she is. (In syndication, duh.) I'm not looking for fillet mignon either. I'm looking for a reliable (somewhat healthy) alternative to canned soup. Which is probably what we're eating tonight since I forgot to bring down the chicken from the freezer.

Whatcha got?

Okay, so we may have kept her out a LITTLE bit past her bedtime..

 

So, Pooh, this is your bed, huh? Looks comfy. Lots of cars. They look fast too. Oh! Is that what they mean by "fast asleep"?

 

Here, how about a hug? That's right, nice and friendly-like.

 

You don't mind sharing, do you?

 

I mean it. Stop struggling!

 

Bear, you're going down!

 

I think I'm going to test out this "fast asleep" theory.

 

Sorry, Pooh, but there's only room for one of us and I toss and turn a lot.

 

Don't worry, old bear. There's a pot of honey in it for ya... (Yawn).

I'll get it tomorr....zzzz.

"Say Cheese"

"Let's get a picture with Daddy. Sprite, say cheese!"

  

Nice try.

"Let's try it again. Say cheese!"

 

Um, better, but not quite.

"Okay, once more for Mommy, okay? Say cheese!"

 

Oy.

"Come on, Sprite. Just give me one nice smile and I'll... I'll... hm. Want a sticker?"

 

"Great! Oh, um, whoops. Mommy seems to have left the stickers at home. We'll just get one later."

Oh, crap. My bad.

Slam Dunk

As heard in the bedroom while watching the Presidential Debates:

John: My team leader complimented me today.

Me: Oh, really?

John: Yeah, she called me a go-getter.

Me: So what did you go get her?

-Aaannnd scene.

The Spin Cycle: ...Have this wish I wish tonight.

I wish the workday was over..... Nope. That didn't work.

I wish I could drop 5 pounds right now..... Dang it!

I wish I had a new Spin to read.... Ha! It worked!

Krystal over at Mommy's Escape

Debbie over at Buzzin' By

Cyndi over at The Adventures of Harry Jack -Saturday update!

Casey over at Half As Good As You -Sunday update!

Jessica over at Musings, by J.L. Raynor -Sunday update! New to the Spin Cycle!

Tina over at Whoopsie Daisie -Sunday update! New to the Spin Cycle!

Tina over at Whoopsie Daisie -Sunday Confessions Update! (I missed it. My bad.)

Katie over at Parental Supervision -Monday update!

Deemarie over at My Life In A Nutshell -Monday update!

HeatherPride over at Riding the Short Bus -Tuesday update!

Carrie over at Cole Pack -Tuesday update!

Arwen over at Spors in the Desert -Wednesday update!

Lisa over at Boondock Ramblings -Thursday update!

Beth over at Bessie Viola -Thursday update! New to the Spin Cycle!

Ginger over at When Ginger Snaps -Thursday update! New to the Spin Cycle!

Jenboglass over at Steenky Bee -Thursday update!

Wicked Step Mom over at The Life and Times of a Wicked Step Mom -Thursday update!

And they said wishes don't come true..

The Spin Cycle: These are My Confessions

Forgive me, Blogosphere, for I have sinned. It's been 1 day since my last confession, but seeing as I expose my ineptitude in all things human every day, you'll have to admit, at least I'm consistent.

Today's confession may cost me. Dearly. You see, my confession stems from one of the basic human emotions, jealousy. At least, that's what I think it is. Let me explain, Blogosphere and forgive the vagueness of some of the story as some names have been changed to protect...well, ME:

This friend of mine, not a good one (anymore), worked with me for a couple of years. This friend was promoted from a position equivalent to mine, thus leaving my office and working in a neighboring city. When I would speak to this friend after the promotion and office change, I would mention how I missed this friend's presence in the office. This friend would respond, "Oh, EVERYONE misses me." That pissed me off, great Blogosphere.

Please understand, this friend had (has?) a big ego. It was becoming a well known fact within the office environment that this friend was a little difficult to work with. I began to avoid this friend, who liked to remark on the fact that I was still in the lowly position I held while this friend, who had been working for the same company for about half the time I had, was able to snag such a lofty prize. I began to ignore this friend when this friend would come to my office for any reason.

Then the work environment began to change. Restructuring, reorganization, regrouping. People were being re-directed. And the promise came about that some people would be demoted during this restructuring. This friend was listed among those who stood in the possible cross hairs of the power-that-be's aim.

Words buzzed, gossip spread quickly. Votes were cast while waiting for answers. Who would go down? Who would survive? I silently cast my own vote. My vote was that this friend would be demoted.

Wait, let me explain! I know it was bad of me, but I had reasons!

I am a fan of "What Goes Around" and I believed that this friend needed a good swift kick in the reality check. I'm human! And the reason for my thoughts was not that I wanted that coveted position that this friend occupied, honest! I just thought that this friend didn't deserve to hold onto it, especially after the way this friend displayed this friend's ego after attaining the goal.

So it came to pass, on that fateful day, oh so long ago, that this friend was in fact demoted to the same lowly position that I continued to occupy. I not only felt vindicated that my wish had come to fruition, but I felt guilt. I did not look forward to this friend stepping foot back into my office.

When this friend came back that first day, I was hesitant to greet this friend, but curious to see whether this friend would be hospitable or carry the bitterness that this friend had already demonstrated upon the release of the decision back into the office. This friend had been quite vocal about this friend's opinion, from what I had heard.

To my relief, this friend was nice. To everyone, including me. And the shame and guilt that I had felt inside, bubbled its way up my back and flooded my cheeks with redness as the heat of my sin threatened to give me and my evil thoughts away.

I did not have the courage however to admit this to this friend, dear Blogosphere. It is my hope, no, my NEED, that you forgive my sinful thoughts and understand that this confession is, in a way, my apology to this friend for my evil and wicked ways.

Now, if this friend were to know about this blog and actually care about what I thought, this would be a direct apology, but alas, as neither is true, dear Blogosphere, I am pleading with you.

Forgive me? I made you cookies...

________________________________________________

Whew! This was a tough topic! You have GOT to check out the Spins below!

You know, Friday is fast becoming my favorite day, thanks to all of you who join in and comment with your bloggy love. Muchos besos! (Krystal?)

Krystal over at Mommy's Escape

Wicked Step Mom over at Life and Times of a Wicked Step Mom

Casey over at Half as Good as You

Katie/Supervised Mama over at Parental Supervision -New to the Spin Cycle!

Debbie over at Buzzin' By

TifRN over at Rapture of the Sleep

Carrie over at Cole Pack

Becca over at The Katz Cradle

Cyndi over at The Adventures of Harry Jack

HeatherPride over at Riding the Short Bus

Deemarie over at My Life In A Nusthell -New to the Spin Cycle!

Jenboglass over at Steenky Bee -New to the Spin Cycle!

Wendy over at Note From the Sleep Deprived -Updated today!

Next week's topic: "Wish I May, Wish I Might"

What is your wildest dream? If you could let your imagination soar, how far would it go? Have you ever wanted something so bad, your entire body just vibrates with the urge? Tell us! There is no limit, just the one you set for yourself.

So, grab your bottles of pixie dust, give yourself a healthy dose of it, and set your wishes to Spin!

Remember, entries are not due in until Friday, October 3. (Oh my lands! Is it October already? I have to get Sprite a costume!... Oh, yeah... Belle. Never mind.) So, you have until then to submit them.

See you next week on the Spin Cycle!

(Editor's Note: I recieved an email asking if we would consider voting on favorite Spins for the Spin Cycle and maybe awarding prizes. I have to say no to this, because the Spin Cycle is an open forum for people to express themselves on a particular topic. This forum is open to EVERYONE and rankings just mess things up anyways. So, thanks for the suggestion, but I think we're doing good.)

I Know You're There

(Editor's Note: I wrote this post back in March, a long time ago in blog months, and it's been sitting in my Drafts since then. Since I have a lot of unfinished drafts needing the space, and I am nothing if not anal, I decided in one of my poorer moments of judgement to go ahead and post it here. Keep in mind, I am writing under the influence of Tylenol right now in order to cure a headache, so this post cannot be held against me. This post is not spiritual in any respect. It was never meant to be. It is only about my writing and how I found the passion to write again. Tis all. Nothing deep. Just me being deep. )

I know you're there.

I pass you every morning as I get ready for work. You sit silently in the corner, waiting to be noticed. You have a luminescence that I haven't seen in a long time. I had almost forgotten what you looked like. I sense you more strongly now. You think I don't see you, but I know you're there.

You know me. You know me better than I know me. And I know you. I know how you are capable of entering my mind without consent, stealing my concentration and turning my structured thoughts into your own designs. You exit as quickly as you enter, leaving me breathless and disoriented, unable to proceed down my original path. You think I don't notice, but I know you're there.

You are the wish I wished for when I was naive to the ways of the world. You are the hope I secretly hoped for before reality reared its head. You are the outlet I blindly reached for, not knowing yet somehow knowing what I was reaching for and knowing I would find you. I knew you were there.

You grew dim for a while, your battery in desperate need of recharging. I had resigned myself to the path I had chosen, determined to walk it with confidence, yet disenchanted and uninspired by the scenery. You walked with me, silent and steady, willing to let me make the choices I felt I needed to. I had disappointed you and I was afraid to acknowledge you, but I knew you were there.

It took a child, an innocent spirit to give you back your voice. At first, I could only hear you through her. Now, you have grown so strong, you do not need her any further to attract my attention. I hear you now. I hear you clearly. You have my attention.

You sit in the corner of my room, watching me as I go through my morning routine. You smile, your glow even brighter than before. You know I know you're there.

JONAS BROTHERS!!!!!!

Did I get your attention?

Okay, please don't throw stones, but I am not a fan of the Jonas Brothers. (Actually, my teenage cousin is, and I've called them the Jonasty Brothers when in earshot, because A. she's a teenager, B.I'm an adult, and C. I can. ) (If she knew about this blog, she would probably comment in several one word sentences punctuated with acronyms like OMG! and ROFLMAO!  because she would think that was cool, and I'm sorry, but thinking back to the birthday post, my teenage years were so much cooler than the representation I saw when I hung out with her and her "kind" back during the "Weekend of Oy". In fact, in my age, we didn't even have blogs! We didn't have cell phones! We didn't even have text messaging! We had pagers! Remember how cool you were, walking the high school corridors with your pagers attached to your jeans, in a hot orange or green color to enhance the pager-ness of it all?) (Wow, how am I going to reel this back in? )

Jonas Brothers!

(That worked.)

Anyway, a marketing firm working with American Eagle Outfitters and 77kids contacted me to ask if I would post some information about this sweepstakes they're running in which they will fly a lucky kid and his/her parent to Los Angeles for a private concert with the Jonas Brothers. Not only that, they'll put you up in a hotel, let you walk the red carpet, and then hang out backstage with the Brothers themselves so you can see up close and personal just how they get their hair to stay like that. (Seriously, wondering over here. As you'll soon know, I have serious hair issues.)

So here's the deal:

Go to this site to enter for your chance to win. (Commenting here will not enter you in the contest, but it will win you some points in my lonely blogging heart. *sigh*)

And...

That's it.

Kind of anti-climatic, huh? It's that easy!

I wanted to check out the clothes and prices on the 77kids clothes since I'm always on the hunt for a good deal when it comes to Sprite and her ever stretching stature, but the collection won't be available online until October 21, 2008. So, I'll go second best and quote the email I received directly to give you an idea of what the line will entail:

"The concert event celebrates the launch of a new line of kids clothing
from American Eagle. The 77kids collection will be available online at
www.77kids.com beginning Tuesday, October 21. The debut assortment
includes a warm and cozy collection of denim, fleece, t-shirts, dresses,
outerwear, footwear and accessories. All 77kids items are extremely soft,
comfortable and long wearing."

Sounds great. Can't wait to see the product. And if they want to throw a few samples my way... (female, size 3T-4T, lightweight for Florida weather, leans toward pink and green, answers to the name of Sprite) then I won't complain!

So, get thee to the site and enter to meet the Jonas Brothers and be the hero in your kid's life! Or just win it, pretend you paid for it, and give your kid a massive guilt trip guaranteed to buy you at least a couple of years of good behavior. Either way, it's a win!

(Editor's Note: I was not paid in money or in samples for my plug. I just received an email from someone whose links were genuine and I thought if any of my readers like the Jonas Brothers or have a kid who is nuts about them, I would give you guys the in. So, good luck, I hope you win, and if you do, report back on the hair issue.) (Seriously!)

Newness

Sprite's room makes me want to cry.

Her new tea set is missing a mint green tea cup.

The bedbugs piece is without its mallet. (Although I think John may be the one behind that. He HATES that toy, but I don't mind it so much. The horrendous sound assures me she's striking the toy, not a dog.)

The box which held the alphabet books in a neat and tidy enclosure is past saving.

The cabbage patch doll which survived my sister's repeated embraces and my cousin Mike's (yeah, Heidi, your husband) repeated attempts to twirl it on its head over 25 years ago has lost the ribbons that held up for so long.

And the Baby Einstein flash cards have exploded all over the house and the search and rescue ended in about a quarter of them being found and a few of those bent and creased to the point they will no longer be straight again.

I tried. Honest, did.

I know I'm fighting a losing battle here. Every night, when Sprite is getting a bath or distracted with her dad, I bulldoze my way through the fallen toys, discarded by my negligent child often as quickly as they are picked up. I arrange her bookshelf quickly, but efficiently. The tiny books stack together, the larger books on the bottom. The chewed up ones stay at the top of the shelf to be first noticed when she's particularly destructive.

(Her favorite book, "Monster At The End Of This Book" sits alone on her dresser, too high for her hands to reach, in an effort to preserve it just a little longer. In fact, I recently found a "Monster" board book and let her go to town with it. Best five bucks wasted this weekend.)

As I go, I try to bring all the shapes back to the shape sorter and reunite all the animals and Noah back in their ark. I try (oh how I try) to keep all like toys together and keep everything in its place. I try to keep everything in good condition, scrub the crayon marks off one doll's face, return the lost shoe to the other one, but I can't keep up anymore.

I learned about the time Sprite started walking that this war cannot be won. Yet, Iike the lone soldier unaware that my side has thrown the white flag of surrender, I battle on.

Sprite's toys have lost their newness. You may not have seen this word before, but it's as old as I can remember.

When I was a kid, Cabbage Patch dolls were the things to have. My mom and dad got us each one. Lee got the girl with the long blond hair (okay, yellow) and I got the bald boy. We were so proud of those dolls, we kept the original boxes they came in. The original diapers lasted a lot longer than the initial 2 days when the repeated adhering ("Oh, baby needs to be changed!") rendered them useless. The clothes were in pristine condition. The only negative thing that happened was my cousin thought it would be funny to spin our dolls on their heads. Stupid boys. I forgave him. (Just now, in fact.)

Recently, my parents brought over all the dolls they had held onto after we moved out. And in one over-sized garbage bag was 5 Cabbage Patch dolls with the original diapers, clothes, hair ribbons, even brushes and birth certificates.

I handed them over to Sprite, thinking they would surely survive her clutches. I mean, they survived mine, right? Wrong. Oh, so wrong. Within days of her "adopting" my old dolls, one has crayon on its face, another has hair coming out at every angle (which is hard to do with yarn hair), and all of them are bare-bottomed, the diapers deemed offensive by her Spriteness.

My history! Seriously, crying will commence soon.

On one hand, I know she's a child and most kids her age season their exploration with tinkering, taking things apart to see how they "click", and often losing interest before the "reassembly" part, leave the toy in shambles for Mommy and Daddy to step on, or a dog to chew on, thus declaring the toy "broken" and Mommy and Daddy throwing more money into the evil empire that is Hasbro or Fischer Price. (No, no, they're not evil, just convenient.)

On the other hand, I have this naive idea that somehow, I can save my daughter's toys from their predetermined fates that seems to behold every other toddler's toy out there and maybe, just maybe, save them for the next child, if that ever happens. (Um, John? You listening?)

So, every evening, I go through my routine, saving one toy from destruction, giving last rights for another. I know the point of my effort is moot. I know I'm just stressing myself out over the inevitable.

I just want to preserve the toys' newness a little longer, that's all, kind of like I wanted to preserve Sprite's newness, yet every day, she reminds me that she is no longer something to be coddled or awed over or stared at. Every day, she reminds me that she has a brain and she is learning how to use it to her advantage. *Sniff.*

You know what? I think I'm just hormonal. In fact, while Sprite is having her bath, I may just relax with a cup of tea...

Tea cup..

Mint green tea cup....

*Sob!*