Hot Weather and Missing the Single Life

I really do love my children, usually my stepchildren and mostly my domestic life. However, there are those few times that I miss my old single life. Hot weather in the South, especially during a heat wave summer like this year, makes up one of those times. When I say "hot weather in the South", I am talking about temperatures somewhere between 95 and 102 (our recent highs) combined with humidity anywhere from 45-72% (yes, it really can get that high and not be raining). The combination gives this delightfully oppressive feel, in which you feel as though you will implode upon the merest exertion. The kind of weather where you take a cold shower, and when you step out of the shower you are sweating.

Weather like this reminds me that old Marilyn Monroe movie The Seven Year Itch, a delightful comedy. There is this one scene in which her character explains how she keeps cool in hot weather - she puts her underwear in the freezer. It's not such bad idea, and one that I have actually resorted to using a few summers here and there. That brings me to today's thoughts which are how to keep cool in hot weather. Naturally that turned me to some of the things I used to do but that I can't anymore - they are the types of things that are best done as a single girl.  Here are a few of my favorites:

• Underwear in the freezer: Seriously, don't underestimate this little gem.
• Laying naked under the ceiling fan: This works very nicely, even in just your underwear
• Cold shower and light duster: Does anyone even know what a duster is anymore? Probably not, and I am not really that old myself. But they are delightfully cool. In a temperature way. In a fashion way, you are not cool. You are more Endora from Bewitched.
• A pint of ice cream for dinner: Not exactly the best example for your children, although it does have calcium and meets your daily dairy requirement. 
• Doing absolutely nothing: While this is not necessarily best as a single girl, it's only literally impossible as anything other than a single girl. Children? Heaven forbid a man in your life? You will never know the pleasure of "doing nothing". 

These days? I just crank up the A/C and threaten bodily harm to anyone that dares to leave doors or windows open for more than the ten seconds it takes to in or out.  Yes, I realize I included windows in the concept of going in and out - I do have teens, remember? And in this heat? If they really want to sneak out the window at 2AM? Just be sure to close the window.

Friday Family Movie Night: The Jensen Project

Yesterday while shopping at Wal-Mart, we received a flyer for Family Movie Night, sponsored by Wal-Mart and P&G products. This is the second in the "Bringing Back Family Movie Night" campaign: The Jensen Project.

The world is hanging by a string. Can this family pull it together?

After a 16-year absence, Claire and Matt Thompson are reintroduced to The Jensen Project — a secret community of geniuses conducting advanced underground research to solve the world’s most difficult problems. The former scientists, accompanied by their tech-minded teenage son Brody, are thrust into a frantic pursuit to keep a potentially dangerous technology from falling into the wrong hands. As the family races against the clock to stop the group's rogue faction, they discover an important truth. In this high-pressure, high-tech world, sometimes the smartest thing we can do is lean on each other.

The flyer had the movie information on one side and a shopping list for the perfect night on the other - all for only $10.00. The evening was complete with pizza, movie and typical movie-theater treats (soda, popcorn and candy). Since all four kids were with us, they cajoled, prodded and pleaded us into succumbing to the blatant marketing. Since we are a larger-than-average family, we ended up spending $20.00 for twice the product.


We first prepared our pizzas - Wal-Mart Marketside pizza for $5.00 each in two flavors: one five-cheese and one three-meat.   Around 6:30PM I served these with our 2-liter bottles of Pepsi ($1.00 each) purchased as part of the package: we chose regular Pepsi and Wild Cherry Pepsi. We devoured the pizzas rather quickly, with plenty of compliments from our, at times, difficult to please audience (two teens, one tween, and one preschooler). The pizzas were quite good, with fresh ingredients. The crust was similar to a "hand-tossed", a nice cross between thick and thin (very close to my homemade crust). The toppings were quite good, with a nice blend of cheeses on the cheese pizza. The meat pizza had large chunks of sausage, only mildly spicy, along with shaved bacon, pepperoni slices and mozzarella cheese. There was also thinly shaved grilled beef, a surprising addition that gave a unique layer of flavor to the pizza. We would have liked more pepperoni slices, but overall the pizza was quite good.

I then left open our two cans of Pringles (one ranch flavor and one multi-grain). These were advertised at $1.00 for a slightly smaller can, but we chose the larger can for $1.50 which was a better deal overall. This also worked better for our size family.


 

Around 7:30PM I put on the popcorn (Orville Redenbacher's Movie Theater Butter at $2.00 a tub), so we could settle in for the movie. This time, we all came into the master bedroom where we could all be comfortable. Our eldest son, who is 18 and has his own apartment, was visiting. He chose to stay in the living room to play Guitar Hero (something he greatly misses since moving out on his own). Our other teen boy, who is "too cool" for family night, chose to stay in his room alternating between talking with his girlfriend on the phone and playing his favorite computer game. Although I wish he would join us as well, at least he's not out making mischief or otherwise getting into trouble. I count my blessings.

At 8:00PM we tuned in to NBC for the family movie The Jensen Project.We enjoyed this with our popcorn, some Skittles (we tried the new flavor of Fizzl'd Fruits, which was sort of Pop-Rocks meets Sour meets chewy Skittles). We had two bags of Skittles, at $1.00 each, in the "theater box" size. The price for all of this was incredibly reasonable, and it was far better than what we would have paid at the theater. Not to mention our floors are not near as sticky (even with a preschooler) and the bathrooms are far cleaner (even with our teenagers).

The movie was very cute, and although it was a bit dark in places for our four-year-old, my younger teen girls enjoyed it. Could it be the hint of romance between Brody and Samantha? Or perhaps just them enjoying Justin Kelly as Brody?  Either way, our whole family enjoyed the movie and we do plan on purchasing the DVD/CD combo available at Wal-Mart today. The CD has the soundtrack from the movie, featuring Jordin Sparks, Brooke White and more.

Overall, we felt this was a good deal: fun, cost-efficient, and family oriented. In the fall, we will be ready and waiting for the next family movie night:  A Walk In My Shoes.

BOOK REVIEW: The Killing Room by John Manning

This review is for The Killing Room by John Manning. I bought the Kindle version, as the title and premise sounded very interesting and it was on sale at the time. **Please note: This book is not the basis for the 2009 movie named The Killing Room, starring Nick Cannon and Timothy Hutton.**


I enjoyed this book, up until about 3/4 of the way through. The last quarter of the book really frustrated me. I felt the author took cheap and easy plot turns, bringing in paranormal elements that were not necessary although recently popular (i.e., zombies).

The characters were fairly well-developed, and I appreciated the way their backstory was woven into the plotline. There was not too much information dump, but when it was given in large chunks it worked as part of the storyline.

I believe the author's greatest gift is in building suspense and giving an edge of psychological suspense - at times I wondered, is this real or is it the character's imagination?  There were a couple of times near the start of the book that I looked over my shoulder when reading it at night. That, to me, is significant in the telling of a good ghost story. When overdone, you are laughing at the attempt and when underdone you are just not scared. This author managed to find the perfect balance, without going into scaring you so much you stop reading! Excellent storytelling.

If this had continued, I would have rated this book higher than three stars. However, the main characters took too long to realize the impact of the Young family on the ghost. There was also some inconsistencies in characterization. For example, the old uncle consistently withheld information - but although the main characters realized this, they never questioned (until the end) why he would do this. Also, with a background from the FBI, it seems our heroine would have cast an early suspicion on the Young family also being involved - and this should have grown with the increasing realization the family was keeping secrets. I was frustrated, and it seemed this was only serving as a plot device - I don't mind plot devices, but they must stay consistent with characterization already established.

Finally - the turning of David into a zombie at the end. There was no reason for him to return, and again I felt frustrated this was only a plot device. Once they realized he was a zombie, I felt it was almost a satire. However, there was no satire up to this point - so again I was left frustrated.

The strong beginning of this book, and the ability of the author to tell a good ghost story, kept this book at a solid three stars. It would have been five stars, if the above issues were resolved to this reader's satisfaction.

My review: Save your money for the paperback, and minus the zombie, hope for a movie version.

Mom vs Mouse - The Bloody End

I took a little time away from the computer for the Fourth of July so I never got a chance to update on Pierre, the aggravating mouse. He finally met his bloody end on Saturday morning.

By this time, he was venturing into other rooms. As a result, the mousetraps stalked him about the house. On early Saturday morning I heard a loud snap in my daughter's room. A quick check revealed an upside-down mousetrap inside the basket. Because I didn't want my hyperactive four-year to accidentally - and literally - run across the mousetrap, I placed it inside a shallow basket. With very slick plastic walls. I then baited a trail with birdseed and sunflower seeds - they love those - to the basket and inside. He climbed the wicker outer shell, fell into the basket and snapped the trap. I win!

I got DH to check the trap because the only thing worse than a rodent is a bloody rodent. No rodent in the trap but his bloody remains had been launched to the other side of the basket. So DH disposed of the mouse.  Despite his objections that we could clean it up (after all, it was "just a mouse"), I had him also dispose of the basket.

End result? Mom - 1 and Mouse - 0. Life is as it should be.

Mom vs Mouse: Day Two

Here it is just past midnight and a few minutes into Saturday morning. My goal of posting daily has officially been shot down upon my second real post. Which brings me to Thursday's post about my furry friend Pierre - the house mouse squatter. It was only yesterday (it still feels like Thursday is yesterday so just bear with me) I battled with Pierre at 5 in the morning.

Two mousetraps, cheese and birdseed bait, and much frustration later it's been a two days since I have seen my furry friend. He disappeared sometime mid-morning on Thursday. All stayed quiet through the remainder of  Thursday and most of today (Friday). Until a few minutes ago.

Yet again the little beast chooses to wait until I am stressed to my last nerve before popping around to let me know he's still stalking the household. I was mentally preparing today's blog about the stress of having a tween and teen, both girls, living in the same house. Between their typical drama (which reached heights exceeding the entire soap opera industry today), I dealt with a hyperactive pre-schooler that is too smart for my own good. It's probably fine for her own good, but I can foresee her dancing circles around me by the time she makes it to the teen years. Heaven help me now.

After surviving the two girls getting to the point of strangulation with one another, neither completing their daily chores, the pre-schooler finding a new obsession with balloons that go POW! when you pop them (this happening repeatedly), a husband who had a bad day, an aunt who broke her ankle, and the oldest stepson (OSS) dropping in at the last minute with his former girlfriend who is back as his girlfriend because she got pregnant with what they think is his daughter who also came and is adorable, and feeding all these crazy people a decent meal... I was ready for a long hot shower, a quick blog and good book. Not so fast.

Before I can say "hot water", my oldest stepdaughter (OSD) has a meltdown of Three-Mile Island proportions. Let's just say bad day at work for DH now equals bad evening at home for OSD. And more stress for me, because really, is anyone ever calm after the firestorm? Nah, didn't think so.

OSS then calls back. He's at his apartment that he shares part of  the time with the girlfriend and their daughter but also apparently his mother (DH's EX) although she also lives part of the time a couple of cities away with her boyfriend that nobody claims is her boyfriend but is the same place that OSS lives when he's not living in our town with the girlfriend. Got that? Don't worry, I stay confused too.

So OSS was in the dark - literally. He said they had to catch up on the power but his mother didn't pay her part before she went to jail (she has more tales for titillating posts than this place has room) so now they are stuck with no power. Well, they could have power if they had the nearly $1000 it will take to turn it back on again. Don't even ask. He asked if he could come spend the night with us, since his girlfriend went to her parents' house to spend the night. One former bedroom, waiting and ready.

By that time, I am living the brief sanity a shower will bring because I dare DH to join me. He will get the pleasure of holding down peace in the Middle East while I take a shower, thank you very much. If I can do it for the 12 hours he is at work, he can do it for the 30 minutes it takes me to shower. Until, that is, Pierre makes an appearance. Everyone is getting settled down for the night, when pitter-pitter-pat his four little paws scurry across the floor of our living room and into DD's bedroom. I guess he fears a pre-schooler the least - oh little does he know. I think we've already established he's not the smartest mouse yesterday, but this was the final exclamation point of stupidity. It would have only been worse had he run towards the fire-breathing drama teen OSD.

So, mousetrap is now moved and placed in a place that is hopefully pre-schooler proof. Yeah right, in my dreams, and all that.  It's freshly baited. It's got a trail of breadcrumbs (not too much, not too little but juuust right for little Goldimouse). I am waiting. And yet, I still watch my door carefully because I have this odd feeling he will manage to eat his little delights, avoid capture and come mock me yet again outside my door.

Have I mentioned how much I hate mice?

I hate cats, but I hate rodents more.

I think I need a cat.

He's no Stuart Little...

So, I was awake almost all last night - it's been a stressful week and yesterday just capped it off with a bang. DH left for work around 5:00 AM, and as I was still awake I put on Hell's Kitchen that I DVR'd recently. As I lay in bed, relaxing and about to go munch on some Doritos, I glanced toward the bedroom door that leads to the kitchen (yeah, yeah, idiotic layout). About that time, I see a furry nose - a tiny, brown, floor-level furry nose. It poked rather curiously around the corner, but disappeared before I could react. Well, other than to fly up to a sitting position. It was a house mouse - a field mouse until he apparently moved in with us.

The little nose poked around again, this time more boldly sashaying into the room as I instinctively tried to scare it. I barked - like a dog. (Hey, it was 5:30AM and I hadn't slept all night, okay?) He just waddles on in, cockily looking at me while he hugged close to the bookcase. Then disappeared - oh lovely. I suddenly thought "Wait! These guys are supposed to be timid. The old "more scared of you than you are of them", nocturnal, dark and quiet loving kind of creature." So, why was this little guy running toward the light, noise and big mean dog (that would be me, since I barked). Apparently, I have not only a house mouse, but a moronic house mouse.

At this point, I yelped. To my utter humiliation, I sounded like some helpless female from a bad romance novel.

What would a heroine do in those books? Well, definitely nothing heroic or brave - that's what her hero is for, right? So, I called up my local hero - that would be DH - for him to race to me in his chariot - that would be our ancient Toyota Camry.  Being the 21st century and all, I paged him. My knight in shining armor (aka clueless husband) laughed at me. He said, get this, "It's just a mouse."

Just a mouse?

Excuse me?

That's what they said in the Dark Ages about those little rodents of death carrying bubonic plague. Rats - mice - all carries of the Black Death. Today, they are still germ-infested, probably rabies-carrying, filthy vermin. If that things bit me, my needle-phobic body would have to endure multiple shots over multiple weeks. Not. Gonna. Happen. I wouldn't even feel clean after a full Silkwood shower.

At this point I am weeping. I have a cheeky mouse, a DH lacking empathy, and a body that has at last reached critical mass from all the stress. So, while DH laughs at me, the mouse doesn't go hide. No, he has to peek, run and cheekily turn and moon me while he whips his tail into what I swear was a rude gesture. Dh didn't believe me, so I hung up on him and called my mother. She has empathy. She told me to name him so I would feel better. I immediately thought, "dirty. cheeky. rude. French. His name's Pierre." (No offense to the French, well, okay - I used to live in Europe and was married to a Brit, so yeah, I guess there is some offense there.) So, I named him "Pierre", the cocky, cheeky, stinky mouse with the "Screw you, you dirty Ameri-cain" attitude. He was no Stuart Little, and there was no way I was adopting him like a son.

In the end, my knight bailed on me to stay at work. After having a hearty laugh at my expense. He didn't help by speculating on how Pierre got in the house - apparently through our back door. We would have to have the Michael Jordan of mice, so I felt better. Until DH politely corrected me by saying mice can jump quite high. As well as climb walls, kind of like Spiderman. Thanks DH. I am thinking of changing that D to an A.

As it turned out, my father (my original knight in shining armor) came to my rescue with mouse traps, bait and even a pellet gun in hand. It was better than the ballpene hammer he originally got - I put that idea to rest rather quickly. The only thing worse than a live rodent running around spreading germs is a dead rodent lying around spreading blood and brains all over your wood floors. We set the traps, I hid them so I don't see them - no sense actually watching the death sentence carried out.

I'll update tomorrow on me versus the mouse. Hopefully the new score will be me-1 and mouse-0.