In which the kid breaks the house

Kiddo has been fortunate enough to have her own bathroom since we moved to this house.  We've been fortunate in that regard as well; it is really, really nice to not have to share a shower/tub with eighty zillion dinosaurs, Barbies, rubber duckies and other assorted tub toys, especially given the issues such tub toys and my nearsightedness have had in the past.

Anyhow, in Kiddo's bathroom (which is also the one used by any overnighting guests), there are three towel bars.  Two of them are on the walls in front of and next to the toilet and the third is in the tub area itself.  All three towel bars are set fairly high on the walls - she has to reach up to touch them.


Kiddo decided, shortly after moving in and beginning to use her bathroom, that it would be a most brilliant plan indeed to hang on the towel bars and/or the end pieces between which the bar itself is held.  Hubby and I both explained to her, on the several occasions in which we caught her in the act, that not only was this as far from a brilliant plan as possible, but it could cause serious damage to herself and the walls and she was (obviously) Strictly Forbidden from doing it, EVER.

Within the first year of living here, she managed to snap one towel bar - after several of the above warnings - and a second towel bar is now dangling loosely (of course she claimed no knowledge of how that happened) on the wall.  Clearly, our Strict Forbidding was only working for those moments when we were actually, physically in the bathroom with her to glare admonishingly while she was reaching up for the bars.  Hubby replaced the one bar and the second continues to dangle a bit precariously, while the third - the one in the tub itself - remained whole.


Around 5:45 yesterday evening (afternoon?), Kiddo went up to take a shower.  I started it for her, made sure the liner part of the curtain was inside the tub and then came downstairs.  Not one full minute later, there was a most tremendous crashing and clattering sound, followed immediately by  "MOOOOOOOOOOM!  I DIDN'T MEAN TO BUT I BROKE THE *incoherent sobbing*" that had Hubby and me racing upstairs.


Now, Hubby and I are lacking in the CSI type equipment with which to reconstruct the crime scene.  We have none of the fancy lasers or the fingerprint dusting kits or the swabs and chemicals to test with, but I'm sure if we did they'd have been positive for shenanigans, along with second grader-sized fingerprints and DNA all over the place.  Even without Grissom and his crew, we were able to deduce what had happened within the first few seconds.  Kiddo had apparently decided (once again!) to hang off the towel bar in the tub.  The towel bar that is made of the same substance as the tiles on the wall.  The towel bar that was one, molded piece.  The towel bar that was not just affixed to the wall, but actually into the wall.  We were able to deduce this because we found Kiddo standing in the tub, covered in bits of broken tile, grout and drywall, screaming and crying her head off, the shower still on full blast with the liner now out of the tub so that water was spraying onto the floor, the towel bar in pieces on the tub floor and bathroom floor and several shattered tiles in the tub and on the floor as well.  (Her living daylights, wits and bejezus, however, were nowhere to be found, because clearly she'd scared them completely out.)  Where the towel bar once hung there was naught but a gaping hole, minus several of the goldenrod tiles that had been there mere moments before.


I immediately turned the shower off, grabbed a towel and picked Kiddo up out of the disaster area, carrying her into our bathroom while Hubby dealt with the disaster area itself.  As I carefully picked bits of broken tile and drywall out of her hair and checked her over for injuries (none, thankfully), she began her Ultra-Super-Duper Symphony of Remorse, key of B♭ minor.  Sample lyrics include

"I am so, so, so, so, so, so, soooo ashamed" 
and its counterpoint
"I am so, so, so, so, so, so, soooo sorry" (repeat ad nauseum)

"I didn't mean to do it."


It was the "I didn't mean to do it" that helped me most to not just melt into a puddle of goo in the face of the full-on Remorse Symphony (complete with tear-filled, big brown eyes and quivering lower lip, not to mention an expression of abject sorry).  Because, as Hubby and I both tried to explain to her, it wasn't so much that she didn't mean to do it, but rather that she didn't mean to get caught.  She wasn't accidentally playing Nadia Comaneci using the towel bar while mid-shower.  She wasn't standing under the spray, industriously shampooing when all of a sudden an unseen being propelled her hands up and onto the towel bar.  She wasn't suddenly surrounded by prehistoric piranhas who came shooting out of the showerhead, forcing her to jump up and cling to the bar as her only means of escape.

Nope, she decided to disregard not only the many Strict Forbiddings and the historical precedent of Kiddo Swings/Flexed-Arm Hangs from Towel Bar, Towel Bar Breaks.  She was hanging from the towel bar because she darn well wanted to, and the 45 year old towel bar decided it had had quite enough of *that* thankyouverymuch and came flying off the wall, shattering as it went.


By the time I'd gotten Kiddo taken care of and deposited her, sniffling and weeping and still singing the Remorse Symphony, into her bedroom, Hubby had cleaned up the mess in her bathroom, which included at least an inch of water on the floor.  I fixed dinner for Kiddo and then put her to bed.  I also levied the consequence of her actions upon her: No puppy next year.  (Now, please note we hadn't actually ever said with 100% certainty that we were getting a puppy next year.  All we'd said in the Puppy Quest matter - Kiddo's nearest and dearest, most fervent and passionate wish is to get a puppy and another kitten, but really, she'd make do with our current cat so long as there was a puppy on the scene - was that we wouldn't be getting one this year.  Kiddo extrapolated in her extremely optimistic way that this meant we'd be getting the puppy next year for sure.  We hadn't specifically disabused her of that notion, though in the back of the grown-ups' minds, a puppy was far from a sure thing next summer.  Now, however, there is no doubt - there will be no puppy in 2011.  This is by far the most serious and dire punishment we could give to Kiddo.)  We had a talk about listening to one's parents and how Daddy and Mommy don't just arbitrarily make up rules because we can, but because we do, in fact, know what is best in terms of keeping Kiddo safe, sound, healthy and happy.  (Okay, yeah, I know, sometimes we do just make up rules because we can, but hey, isn't that one of the hard-won perks of being a parent, to enact the Because I Said So! rule?)


Hubby did some research on the repair job our new hole in the wall is going to require.  Now, the bathroom is on the (exhaustingly lengthy) list of Rooms to Be Renovated.  However, it isn't next or even next-to-next on the list.  So, we don't really have the energy, enthusiasm or budget for tackling a full-on renovation in there right now, which would include removing all the heinous, goldenrod tile and retiling both the tub/shower area and the floor, along with stripping the hideous, 60s-butterfly-n-sunflower wallpaper, replacing fixtures (which will likely involve a lot of rewiring as well) and replacing the faux-marble-with-gold-veins countertop with an actual vanity.  We don't even have the energy or enthusiasm to just tackle the tub/shower portion of that project right now.  So, Hubby is going to try to patch the hole in the wall (we can see clear through to the studs - yowza) and then put in replacement tiles (which won't actually match the goldenrod ones, but such is life - the new tiles will serve as a reminder to Kiddo of What She Did, I suppose) and regrout everything.  It isn't like we could really make that bathroom any uglier, anyhow, and that way it will be functional (albeit minus one towel bar) again.


So, thus concludes the saga of how we became a real life Hole in the Wall Gang, courtesy of one relatively small seven year old breaking the house.  I was heartened by the comments on my previous post, especially the one in which someone else's child broke their house.  It's good to know that I'm not alone.  I just hope this is the last time we are faced with a hole in the house that isn't one of our own, purposeful making!

Lost, Shmost, it's Sweeps Week on Cat TV, too, you know...

Yes, Spring means "sweeps week" for our local Cat TV stations (aka windows on the lower levels of the house).  Besides the regularly scheduled programming of Birdies, Squirrels and Chipmunks, we also get the big guns - BUNNIES!!

Though, all the hours of sweeps week excitement do tend to tire a kitteh right out............

Wordless Wednesday: Crazy Cat's personal Mt. Everest

(...yes, I'm still packing...)

Holidays thus far...

Whew, hope everyone is having a good holiday break thus far! We've had rather a whirlwind past few days, ourselves. For the first time in my 37 years of life, I did not spend Christmas Eve and/or Christmas morning with my parents. I was the last of the children to break the tradition; every year up until this year, we'd drive down a day or three before Christmas and stay at my parents' house until at least the day or three afterwards. This year, Hubby, Kiddo and I spent our very first Christmas alone, just the three of us, at least for Christmas morning. After Kiddo (who was beginning to think Santa would only bring her presents to Grandma and Grandpa's) opened her presents Christmas morning, we had breakfast, loaded up the car and drove on down to the motherland (aka New Jersey). Our only snafu was not being able to find a single, solitary fast food establishment between our house and my parents' house that was open and serving food. We were a little surprised that no one was open, even with it being Christmas day - we just figured somebody would be cashing in on all the travelers with appetites who hadn't thought to pack a lunch. (Well, The Waffle House in Clarks Summit PA was open but they don't have a drive-thru...) Hubby wound up buying us a bag of pretzels and a box of Pop Tarts at a gas station minimart and that plus the candy and bananas we had in the car already tided us over, mostly, until we made it to NJ. We arrived just when all the rest of the family arrived midafternoon, thanks to decent roads, decent weather and light traffic. (Total count at my parents' house for Christmas dinner: 17 adults, 6 kids ranging in age from Kiddo at 5 and a half right on down to the youngest nephew who is 13 months old, not counting the two more babies yet in utero.) As is customary, there was lots of food, then gift exchanging and opening, then even more food, then games, then dessert (yes, more food!) and more games and then collapsing.

The day after Christmas isn't known as Boxing Day in our family, but rather "Game Night" day. Everyone who is still in town gathers again at Mom and Dad's for leftovers (we're talking turkey *and* ham here, people - way too much food) and board games. Over the past several years, those games have come to include a poker tournament, which I am proud to say I won this year, including beating Hubby who finished second. (Mwah-ha-ha!) If anyone wants to stake me for the WSOP, I'm ready to go..... This year, we weren't expecting any of Kiddo's cousins to be attending Game Night besides the youngest (who, while ridiculously adorable, isn't really of an age yet where he is able to be much of a playmate for Kiddo) but then my sister and brother-in-law wound up coming, so Kiddo had her favorite cousin - only because he is closest in age to her and therefore a perfect playmate - to run around the farm with all day. Bonus!! Also a bonus: our new Wii. We brought it down to NJ with us and Hubby hooked it up on Mom and Dad's humongous TV, and many games of Wii this and Wii that and Wii the other thing commenced. I probably should mention here: I suck at Wii Sports. Seriously. Well, Wii Bowling, anyhow. I'm not kidding: both Kiddo and my 4 year old nephew kicked my butt at Wii Bowling. (As did my 25 year old brother, but you know, somehow that is a tiny bit less humiliating, especially considering that was the first day I'd ever played Wii anything and he's been Wiitastic for a couple of years now.)

Yesterday, Hubby and I took Kiddo into New York City (henceforth referred to merely as "the city" because seriously, it is the city, is it not?) for the day. She's been in the city before, but the last time was two years ago, and she didn't really get it. This time, however, she got it all. She loved every second, from riding the train in (standing room only - she was the only member of the family who enjoyed that particular part) to taking the subway and buses to get around the city to the tall buildings and crowds and everything. We didn't have a highly ambitious itinerary: The Museum of Natural History, FAO Schwarz and Rockefeller Center to see the tree and skaters. (I harbored a secret hope of taking Kiddo skating, but the plaza - actually all of Manhattan! - was insanely crowded, so we couldn't even make it to the line, much less the ice. Oh well, something to do next time!) Kiddo loved the museum this time around (we took her there a few years ago, too, but she was a bit too young then), especially the dinosaurs, ocean and African animal exhibits. She loved FAO Schwarz, for obvious reasons (and despite the moratorium we imposed a year or so ago on new stuffed animals, Rory the Tiger came home from FAO with us). She loved the tree and the policemen on horses at Rockefeller Center, and all the other lights and decorations, too. She thought St. Patrick's Cathedral looked like a castle and proclaimed Trump Tower the biggest building she'd ever seen. All in all, a successful, if rather exhausting, trip. I have so many fond memories of taking trips into the city at Christmastime when I was growing up that I am extra glad that I was able to share that experience with Kiddo. I regret not having the same proximity to NYC now that I did as a child, but with relatives still within an hour of the city, at least we have proximity by relation...

Today was pack 'em up and drive 'em home day, which is exactly what we did. Along with the memories and overloaded photo memory card (and a few extra pounds I picked up from ALL THAT FOOOOOOOOD), I managed to bring home some New Jersey Germies. That is a souvenir I would've been happy to leave behind, alas. Now, I'm just looking forward to sleeping in my own bed and lounging about in jammies tomorrow, not to mention doing some serious blog-surfing! Hubby has to work at some point this week but probably won't go in to the office until Tuesday, and we've got several Wii games we haven't even tried yet. (He's downstairs playing Wii right now - I'm totally turning into a Wiidow!!) Still not sure what we're doing for New Year's, though I doubt we'll be going out.

And that is the brief (well, brief for me, anyhow!) recap. I shall now unload a few of the pictures off that memory card and leave you with the slightly more exciting photo recap of Heather's Holidays Thus Far!

Kiddo's most wanted gift from Santa (as written to and told to Santa many, many times) was a scooter. Tada!


Cousins having fun! Kiddo is 11 months older than her cousin, though he is a good 2.5-3 inches taller than she is (my sister and brother-in-law are both really, really tall!):


I went outside with Kiddo and my nephew to play with Grandma's new puppy on Game Night afternoon. (It's a 13 week old standard poodle who is too freaking cute and energetic.) When we were out back, there was a deafening noise. We looked up to see an absolute horde of Canada geese flying overhead. They landed in the fields back behind my parents' farm, and were the reason it sounded like a war had broken out in central NJ early the next morning. Apparently hunting the geese has been not only sanctioned but encouraged as there are so dang many of them.


Kids + ball + puppy + lots of room to run around outside = Exhaustion all around.


Which then leads to more uninterrupted time playing Wii for the grown-ups....


On to NYC.... a kindly passer-by offered to take a picture of us in front of the ginormous whale in the oceans exhibit at the museum. No, no, no, the whale is behind me. Yep, that's the whale, honest. I ate a lot over the past few days, but not that much, I swear.....


On to the dinosaurs! Kiddo loved learning about them,

hanging out with them,



and especially touching them! This is an actual, 140 million year old Stegosaurus plate. Yes, Hubby and I touched it too. No, we didn't jam our hands underneath the approved opening the way Kiddo did....


Rockefeller Center with the tree. Hubby: "Do you HAVE to take a picture right here, right now? There are ninety million people trying to get by us, here.........." Me: "Yes. Yes, I do."


Kiddo was literally oooohing and aaaaahing over the size of the buildings, the holiday decorations and the lights.


Kiddo hasn't yet seen the movie Big, but that didn't stop her from waiting forever in line ("I'll be really, really patient if we can wait, please, please, Mommy and Daddy??") and dancing on top of the Big Piano:



Even the subway is an adventure..........


Now, I'm off to play the Harry Potter game Santa brought me on the Wii. I promise I'll make the rounds of everyone's blogs tomorrow!!

Really delicious raspberry pie

We are lunching with my BFF tomorrow at her new house down in the Finger Lakes. The kiddo is mostly excited about this because of BFF (who is also the kiddo's godmother)'s two Labs. The kiddo has been talking about the upcoming visit with great anticipation all week, even insisting on calling BFF at work to leave her messages a few times. (BFF was busy hobnobbing with Hillary Clinton yesterday, which is why the kiddo got her voicemail. BFF leads a very exciting life compared to our more humble existence - the only hobnobbing we did yesterday was with a bunch of ducks on the Erie Canal.) The only thing that could be more exciting than a visit to BFF and her two doggies? Helping Mommy make dessert to bring with us tomorrow!

This will be the first raspberry pie of the season (raspberries are not in season here quite yet, but that isn't actually crucial to the recipe anyhow), and the first time that I've made one with the kiddo. I first made this pie about 15 years ago, and have made it every summer since. I don't remember where I first came across the recipe, but man am I glad I found it back in the day! Being cold and fruity makes it a great summertime dessert, though transporting it can be tricky. I've actually done it in a baking dish, sort of deep-dish style, for easier transport in the past. I have a feeling the kiddo's favorite parts of helping me make this will be crushing the vanilla wafers and whipping the cream (unless Mommy is mean and whips the cream in the KitchenAid instead of with the electric beaters), as well as any taste-testing necessary, plus beater-licking of course. (Hmmm, that sounds a bit off-color, doesn't it?) Recipe as follows:

Raspberry Pie

20 ounces frozen raspberries, thawed
2.5 cups Vanilla Wafers, crumbled
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
5 tablespoons butter, melted
1 package unflavored gelatin
1/4 cup very cold water
1/2 teaspoon lemon zest
1 pint heavy (whipping) cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
fresh raspberries for garnish

Drain raspberries, reserving 1 cup of the juice. Combine crumbs, sugar, 1/2 teaspoon of the cinnamon and the butter, press into a 10-inch pie plate to form crust. Bake in a 375 degree oven for 8 to 10 minutes and let cool.

Soften gelatin in water. Mix the reserved raspberry juice, the remaining 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon and lemon zest in a medium saucepan. While stirring, heat to a boil. Remove from heat, add gelatin and stir until it has completely dissolved.

Chill until mixture just begins to thicken. Whip half of the pint of cream with vanilla extract. Fold raspberries, gelatin mixture and whipped cream together.

Pour into cooled pie shell. Whip other half pint of cream and spread over top. Garnish with fresh raspberries. Enjoy!

Our big, fat, carnival goldfish

I've had a few inquiries in recent weeks about whether or not the kiddo's pet fish, Swimmy, is still with us. Swimmy, incidentally, is the goldfish that the kiddo quite improbably won by chucking a ping pong ball into a teensy fishbowl at a midway booth at one of the many summer festivals in our area last July. You know the booth I mean, dontcha? The one where you get 5 ping pong balls for a buck and the odds are stacked against you, because after all it is a carnival midway game booth? The only reason we even let her try was because we were soooo certain there was no way we were leaving the festival with a fish. Whoops.

Anyhow, that $2 goldfish (Hubby paid for 10 ping pong balls) has now cost us probably somewhere in the $100 range, between the original bowl, gravel and food we bought on the way home from the festival, to the 10 gallon aquarium, additional gravel and filters we bought a few days later, to the various other fishy accoutrements and "treats" acquired over the past 10 months. (Yes, there are such things as "treats" for a pet goldfish, didn't you know that? The kiddo would be happy to point them out to you in the fish aisle of your nearest big box store...) The biggest recurring cost is the filters for Swimmy's tank, though the hubby was mentioning to me the other week that he'd read somewhere online an article detailing how one can make one's own fish tank filters. It sounded vaguely MacGuyver-y to me, and for now we're still sticking with the box of 3 filters for $5. So, after all that expense and effort, I'm pleased to say that Swimmy hasn't just survived since that day at the festival last July, this fish has thrived!

For photographic proof, when Swimmy first arrived, she (the kiddo says she is a girl) looked like this:

As of this week, Swimmy now looks like this:

(Yes, we were alarmed when the black edging on Swimmy's fins and tail first started fading. What can I tell you? We're not goldfish experts - thank goodness for Google!)

As you can see, besides turning all orange, Swimmy has grown rather large and robust. Swimmy's weekly diet of goldfish flakes, blood worms and algae cakes have served her well. She now can make a definitive THUNKing noise when she swims up to the top of her tank and then flips and heads back down. It's startling to hear this noise from another room, because my biggest fear is that it wasn't the fish causing it, but rather this:

We don't think that Swimmy thinks of the cat as a threat, per se... Swimmy seems to treat anything moving outside her tank as a potential source of feeding and responds as such - swimming frantically back and forth across the top of the tank, making surprisingly audible "pah-pah-pah" sounds as she smacks her little, fishy lips in anticipation. The cat, however, likes to whap at the glass of the tank with her paws whenever Swimmy gets close, and that doesn't seem like a very good idea...

The kiddo actually is fairly good at her pet-tending responsibilities. She feeds Swimmy her daily flakes and she helps with the weekly 20% water change. The kiddo is also responsible for all of Swimmy's tank decoration (interior and exterior) and rotates various "friends" from her toy collection to keep Swimmy company by sitting next to the tank.

So, yes, we still have our carny goldfish, and whew, what a big fish she has become!