Mother’s Got A Dot Com

#2 Brat came home early from school today.

Why?

A bomb threat. The police came in with dogs, armed to the teeth, and got everybody out of there. Apparently, a student from another school had made the threat, although that’s not been confirmed.

No school tomorrow either, so Easter came early this year. For some. Most of the pupils and teachers still have all their stuff there – #2 Brat’s friend was not allowed to take her scooter home, for one.

Good thing they take it seriously – but scary!

I’m not going to whine about the weather or the snow for a while. I promise.

Today has been lovely, the white stuff is melting fast, and I’ve cleared a space on the terrace that’s large enough to put out a few deck chairs. That means we can enjoy a nice cup of cocoa with whipped cream in the sun, while letting the sun tan our faces by reflecting on the white stuff.

I think I’ll just enjoy the coming week. I’ll paint Easter eggs with the Brats, pick birch branches that I’ll put in water to enjoy a bit of spring indoors, buy a great big pot of mini daffodils, and stick my tongue out at the white stuff, as I watch it melt. I’ll not worry about life insurance quotes, unpaid bills or even mortgages, and just enjoy life for a few days.

Wouldn’t it be nice to just vacuum the old mind for any worries, and take a day or two doing time out?

# 1 Brat came home for a flash visit this weekend, bringing a friend from school. Now, the school in question is run on Christian principles, and I thought that maybe I had to be on deCorum watch.

In a household with 4 teenagers, sometimes words are spoken that would not be acceptable in polite society. This is certainly true in this one, and the little 2 1/2 year old tyke is quick to parrot anything he hears too. We tend to try to ignore it, since we’ve experienced that whatever is made a big deal of, just gets more interesting.

However, I’m not one to willingly offend my guests, so I hoped for best behaviour all round. (Let it be said that swearing is not an everyday occurance around our dinner table, and I repeat: we just don’t make a big deal out of it). Anyway – #1 Brat and friend arrived, and in came this beautiful girl, polite, friendly… and then she smiled at me. Revealing a great big “bag” of snuff under her upper lip. I managed to contain myself. I did not laugh.

Prejudice is a strange thing. In hindsight, I failed on at least a couple of counts:

1. Christian people are offended by swearing. Some are. Many though, think as I do, that it’s just words, and what counts is what’s on the inside.
2. Christian girls don’t use snuff. Eh… where did that idea come from? She might well have had deep rooted beliefs, what do I know? We never discussed the matter, and no swearing occurred.

As life is a life-long learning process, I can sum up the weekend’s lesson as follows: Appearances and preconceptions almost always lie. Get to know people first, and then refrain from passing judgment.

Here’s #6Brat, Miracle Boy, taking matters into his own hands. Mum’s taking only snow pictures these days, so he probably thought he’d better put some balance back into the photographing of daily events.

When he saw the picture just now, he said: “Is there a bogeyman in there?” I assured him that there was not, and he concluded he’d probably eaten it. Charming.

With him around, I’ve thought about getting separate insurance quotes for just about everything in this house that has buttons and knobs.

Cameras, TVs, freezers (yes, been there, done that), DVD players, decoders, not to mention computers. My keyboard keys are marked with red permanent ink – doodle fashion. The screen has got regular blue ink doodle marks on it, and all the light switches that are accessible go on and off regularly.

I have to check the under-floor heating several times a day – it’s usually either turned way up or off altogether. We have all sorts of weird VHS recordings, because little mister has been switching channels just as whatever we’ve recorded started to get interesting.

The batteries in our flashlights are permanently depleted, and if he gets hold of my cell phone, he’ll send messages to the first one on my contact list. Every time. Luckily, it’s my aunt, and she thinks he’s the 8th wonder.

The only thing that he leaves alone is the vacuum cleaner. A little man already…

Have you ever seen something, or heard something, and found that your mind has wandered to something completely different? Or vaguely associated, but totally out of context?
When given the keywords sleep number bed to blog about, I was first irritated by the impossible, nonexistant grammar and word alignment. Then, I decided to try to be creative, and so this sweet little true story popped into my head:
My mother-in-law is the youngest of 12, and she was born in 1936. Her mother was born in 1890, and had her first child in 1907. Up until the second youngest, there was two years between every time a child was born. MIL was an afterthought, and was born 9 years after number 11.
Anyway. Before her, there were 6 boys and 5 girls. They all slept in the attic, and the boys shared one big bed.
The story goes that one of them sat up in bed one night, and when asked why, replied: “I just had to sit up for a while, to rest!” Legend also has it that when one of them needed to shift, he had to say: “one, two, three, turn!”, and all of them shifted at the same time.

They all lived to a ripe old age – in fact, 4 of the 12 are still around. The ones I’ve been lucky enough to know have never seemed traumatized by their childhoods, either. I don’t think I need worry too much about the fact that my 2 youngest Brats have to share a room.

#3 Brat has severe acne problems. From what I’ve seen after his 2 week stint in the jungle (and 3 days of sun and Pacific Ocean dipping), the very best of acne treatments is just that: Sun and sea. Off with the shirts, on with the shorts.
He’s not cured. Far from it. What’s more, he’ll always be scarred, but the improvement is significant. Sadly, the amount of Pacific dipping we get over here is negligeable. If I can get him to see the improvement himself though, I might be able to coax him into letting the sun do its thing on him during the summer. (We have summer. It’s short, but pleasant – sometimes). I understand the self-consciousness, and the need to hide himself, but I hope he can rise above that, at least when only the family is here.

He gets treatment – homeopathic pills of various descriptions. They have an effect too, but it’s slow compared to the sun and the sea.

Oh, dear. I just googled acne, and found a site that sells anabolic steroids. They also give a list of possible side effects – acne being the least worrisome of the lot. They provide a solution for the “most feared side-effect”, though, which is feminization. The solution is more drugs. Excessive levels of testosterone converting to estrogen is combated by ingesting anti-estrogen. Charming.

(Most feared??? How about heart failure, strokes, liver failure, immune system failure? No probs, as long as you don’t develop breasts???)

Anyway. #3 Brat is in the clear. He’s just a teen with runaway hormones.

#3 Brat is safely home from Ecuador. He had a smashing time, and he’s full of stories and experiences. Like having an ant’s mound in the shower, seeing the Amazon, being south of the Equator, and seeing first hand that there are people who have to do without most of the things we believe to be necessities.
He also had a bout of altitude-sickness, but managed to steer clear of stomach bugs. And I don’t think he’d mind it if he were never to eat rice again…

He did well on the shopping, too – bringing gifts for everyone, which is quite an achievement for a boy of 17. He enjoys it though, and he also managed to bring back a proper machete knife for himself, something he’s dreamed about for a long time. (We did emphasize that he should never, ever try to put anything sharp in his hand luggage, because it would be taken away. At best. Luckily for him – he listened.)

By the way – have you ever gotten a boy back after two weeks in the jungle? Topped off with a 30-hour trip home? The poor fellow took his shoes off when he came through the door. Within 5 minutes, we were all gasping for air, ready to call the paramedics and pest control people. The shoes were put outside the door. In -22° Celcius. They have now (after 4 days in the cold and the snow) been tentatively allowed inside.

So far, we’re all doing OK.

I recorded these little videoclips on Sunday, when we invited a few people over for charcoaled sausages and fun in the snow.
We had a fire going, and hot cocoa – there was sledding and skiing – a lot of fun!

Oh, and if you think the lighting is bad – Saturday, when we planned this, was a day of blazing sunshine. So – we dug out a spot in the snow – just where the sun would be shining the longest. On came Sunday, with not a ray of sunshine all day. We were in luck though – no wind, and it was quite mild.

Just disregard the Norwegian chatting in the background… or turn the sound down.

Must post some pics too – they’re from my cell (as are the videos), so they’re not great, but there you go – can’t have everything.

I promise nothing, but this may well be the last snow post of the season.

of the window to take this photo:

- and my head almost fell off.

Can you see how cold it is? I’ll tell you if you can’t: it’s -22° Celcius. I don’t know if Fahrenheit even goes that low… (OK, I found a converter that would do minuses, and it says -7,6° Fahrenheit).

The sun is on it’s way up, but I doubt it’ll do much good today. #5 Brat was going to spend the day outdoors at school today, but I hope they’re sensible enough to cut it a bit shorter… She’s got a flask of cocoa with her, but by the time they get around to recess, I’m afraid it’ll have turned into an icicle.

#4 Brat, bless her heart, still insists on wearing her canvas Converse shoes. I suggested this morning that she at least bring a padded sitting mat to stand on, but it didn’t go down well. Mum’s got no sense of style – just boring old common sense. Nothing new under the bleak winter sun!

(Excuse me while I insert a link here – for free insurance quotes. I don’t know what other kinds there are – who’d want to pay to get a quote, anyway?)

Right – where was I? Oh, yes, Brats and the cold. #2 Brat is a sometime member of the “barebelly” squad. I didn’t see her this morning, as she left so early, but I hope she covered up today. #3 is on his way home from his school trip to Ecuador, and boy, is he in for a shock! I hope #1 Brat is somewhere warm – she’s in Oslo for a weekend of fun and games, and as for #6, he’s still snuggled up in his bed, blissfully unaware of most of life’s controversies, the cold included. He’s not too keen on this snow business – his legs are too short for 60 cms of the stuff.

Whose legs aren’t, come to think of it?

And this is what came out of it: proper winter!