Personalized Plates?

In Virginia, it doesn't cost much to personalize your plates, so we see quite a few. Here are the top 10 (as chosen by my husband and I), for you to figure out:

1. NANAVAN3

2. OLD BATS

3. SG1GRL

4. SNOMNKY

5. ADHDx5

6. WSHPNIN

7. SVLIVS

8. SPRTOY

9. VOCLST

10. GUDTGO

10.2 GW PROF (I know, I know! I just liked too many)

Can you figure them all out?

I grew up in a family of personalized plates:

My dad: STRNMY (know what it says?)
My mom: JANET'S
Me: SUMNER (it was my dad's idea so I'd remember who I was wherever I went. Thanks, dad.)

The whole personalized thing is pretty fascinating. It's like micro-communication with a bunch of random strangers. Even having grown up with that, I'm still not sure why people choose to do it. What do you think?

And just for the fun of it: You have a max of 8 letters to say something about yourself that you're willing to share with the world. What do you say?

Drumroll please . . .

First of all, I want to thank everyone who entered this contest! I had a great time reading your limericks. And don't they say that doing something creative builds brain cells? Okay, I may be making that up, but I hope you had as much fun writing them as I did reading them.

Second of all, it was very had to choose a winner, you were all so good (and you all hit on different crazy areas of my life---all of which I love to laugh about). However, since a winner must be chosen, here we are:

The winner is Melanie for "Ode to St. Patty's Cuisine"

For those of you who didn't get a chance to read it, here it is:

A green dinner sounds so creative,
Until you think "what's it made of?"
Your kids will all scream
Because everything's green!
But cabbage and corned beef's so native!

Maybe it was the St. Patrick's day theme that won me over, but either way, congratulations! Watch for the coveted gift card in the mail. :)

St. Patrick's Day Contest

St. Patrick's Day is one of my favorite pointless holidays. I love the stories of leprechauns. I love the iconic movies (like Darby O'gill and the Little People). I love the green. And I love pinching people. Okay, not really on the last one, but still. Just thinking about it makes me want to break into song . . .

When Irish eyes are smilin' . . .

But I digress.

It's a holiday that can be as much or as little as you choose to make it. I tend to be a minimalist, so the "little" part really appeals to me.

So knowing I made a goal to have a silly, pointless contest on my blog this year, I thought why not. This contest will run from the moment this is posted until midnight EST on Saturday, 20 March 2010.

I really wanted to make the prize super Irish, but all I could come up with was beer and potatoes. Somehow that didn't sound very exciting. So instead, since Olive Garden's signature color is green, up for grabs is a $25 gift card for there.

Here are the rules:

1. Make up a funny and CLEAN limerick and post it in the comments. (Oh, heck, I don't even care if you didn't make it up, so long as it's clean and funny.)
2. Did I mention it has to be clean?
3. I, as supreme chancellor and all-mighty contest thrower, get to pick my favorite to win.
4. I'll post the winner next Sunday.

Limerick /lim-rik/: a five-lined poem with aabba rhyme scheme. I could go on about the meter and syllable counts, but instead, I'll give an example:

There once was a girl from DC,

Who lived far from all her fam'ly

She blogged every day

So in touch she could stay

Then forgot to go out and sight see.

Okay, I'm no poet. I fully admit this. But you get the idea.

Please note, this contest is completely subjective. Anyone can enter (even relatives, gasp!). Odds of winning are about 1 in 4 since that's about how many people comment on my blog. Consider all that legal mumbo jumbo said. You know: Taxes yada, yada, yada. Liability blah, blah, blah. You get the point.

Good luck, and I can't wait to read your entries!

UPDATE: You may enter as many limericks as you want.

A Beautiful Sunset with a Kick

Yesterday was call (i.e. Rick worked all night). While London was at school, we had a full day. A playdate, gymnastics, and even a run to the toystore because Razors were on sale. (Brandt is now the proud new owner of his own scooter!)

What a great mom, huh? It's not birthday or Christmas or any other holiday, but just because I know Brandt will enjoy it. So in gratitude, he should be happy boy with no complaints all day. Right? Yes, right.

After another playdate (when London got home), it was time to get down to work. London has piano practice and reading before dinner. Lucky Brandt gets to play.

London sits at the piano, but does Brandt not get the "lucky" part?

Me: Brandt, you need to let London practice.

Brandt: No! I'm going to play!

Me: Brandt, please get off the piano bench so your brother can pratice.

Brandt: No! Tinga! Pinga! Pinga! Bing! Bang! Bop! [that's meant to represent his playing . . . hey! you try and make piano sounds with words, then come back and appreciate my genius.] ;)

London: I don't need any help, Brandt!

Me: Brandt, please play somewhere else.

I physically remove Brandt from the piano bench and set him on the couch.

Brandt: That's no fair! You made me mad, mom!!! And I won't play anywhere else!@!!! [if only you could hear the intensity in his voice. There's just no way to translate that into words]

And he promptly ran across the room and booted me in the leg.

Yeah. Seriously.

I picked him up, marched him to his room and deposited him in his bed. Then I plopped in front of the computer and stared at the screen. My ire was pulsing WAY too fast to try talking to anyone else.

I mean, 1) Where did he learn that!? Because I certainly have never kicked him.

2) How could he kick me? Me?! His own mother who suffered 9, count them, 9 months of a miserable pregnancy, 4 hours of labor, innumberable sleepless nights, not to mention the extra weight I still bear around my center.

And 3) I bought him a stinkin' scooter today!!! Isn't that like having a get-out-of-temper-tantrums free card? Well it should be.

So there I am, glowering at the computer screen, when London says, "Mom! Look at that beautiful sunset! Come watch it with me!"

Well how can you refuse that? You can't. So we stood and watched the sun setting.


London: I just love watching the sky turn yellow and orange. And look at the line of cloud, mom. Isn't that just SO cool?

Me: Very cool, London.

London [snuggling in close]: It doesn't get any more better than watching the sun set with your mama, does it?

Me: No, kiddo. It doesn't.

How do kids know how to say just the right thing sometimes? What a little cutie. And suddenly the event that left me fuming was connected to this other amazingly sweet moment. The kind you treasure as a mom. The kind that makes all those other not-so-nice moments worth it. The kind you never forget.

London: Can we do this again some time, mama?

I hope so, kiddo. I certainly hope so.

Maestro London

Growing up, we had a rule: when you turn 5, you start piano lessons. So what a slacker am I . . . London was already 6 and I hadn't started him on lessons yet. I wanted to wait till we could afford to have someone else teach him, but that could be years.

Sooo, I took the plunge a few weeks ago and London is doing great! I think his favorite part is getting to put the stickers on the pages he's passed off. My favorite part is playing duets with my child. If I'd known how awesome that felt, I would have started him a long time ago!

Now, don't get me wrong, we have our moments . . . "But Mom! I don't want to practice! I want to play!" We get the flopping to the floor and the literal dragging himself to the piano. But when he played a piece over the phone for grandma and grandpa, he had a mighty proud look on his face. And when daddy gets home, he's pretty quick to offer to play his piano piece. All in all, I'm one proud mama. :D