After over 8,500 pictures - including the birth of all four children - my first digital camera ever is now a thing of the past. It flashed "ERROR 845: Consult Owner's Manual" after
For a few minutes it continued to flash this message and then everything on the display screen went black. When I looked up ERROR 845 in the owner's manual, it said something about, "Irreparable damage. All of the intricate thing-a-ma-jigs have been destroyed."
Suffice to say, I am now in the market for a new digital camera.
The timing is good, but not great. I was hoping to get a new digital camera for Christmas and planned to use the next few months to research the market extensively so that Santa could make an informed decision. Now, I need to get a camera post haste, because not having a means to take pictures, is the equivalent of not having air to breathe. Yeah, it's that bad.
Digital camera suggestions and recommendations are welcome.
In other news, Charlie started a new job three weeks ago and has been working from our dining room table until he finds a new office. It's a good thing that he has been home and within earshot, because he overhears the conversations I've been having with the children and provides me frequent reality checks to help me from going completely insane.
Elizabeth fell down outside and scraped her knee. There was a droplet of blood but from her reaction, you'd think she was on the verge of losing her entire limb. When I went to her rescue, she was screaming "I NEED BAND-AID!! MOMMY I NEED BAND-AID!!"
I dashed in to the house to grab the first aid kit and when I went back and knelt down by her side with the Neosporin and a band-aid, she screamed "NO BAND-AID!! NO BAND-AID!!" and started to shoo me away fanatically. If her language allowed, I think she would have also added "You idiot! What makes you think I need a stupid band-aid?!"
I stood up and started to put the band-aid back in the first aid kit when she started screaming "NEED BAND-AID MOMMY!! NEED BAND-AID!!"
Again, when I bent down to put it on her
This dialogue went back and forth for a solid 15 minutes before the wound completely healed and there was absolutely no evidence of trauma.
At bed time, they want all want to take a bath. But as soon as I run the tub, they jump up and down and scream that they want to take a shower. I turn on the shower and they want the bath. Or, two want a bath and one wants a shower.
No, wait ... no one wants to bathe. They want to run around the house naked.
Dinner time. They want a fork. They want a spoon. Not that spoon. THAT spoon.
I NEED TWO SPOONS.
MY SPOON. MY SPOON.
They want their food in a bowl. No, on a plate. Not that plate. THAT plate.
They're not thirsty. They're not hungry.
They want to watch a movie.
But the jury is split on what movie to watch. No one is happy with the selection.
They want to read a book. NO, NOT THAT BOOK. THAT BOOK.
It's time for a diaper change.
After they eat, because now they HUNGWY.
They want to wear the Princess Pull-Up. No, they want the Cars Pull-Up.
They want to go poop on the potty. But they don't. They run around the house holding their bums and yelling for a diaper. But when I try to put them in a diaper, they insist on underwear.
They want Princess UNDERWEAR.
They want Nemo and Dory UNDERWEAR.
Oh, wait!! Those are Elizabeth's underwear.
Will Elizabeth share?
Yes. No. Maybe so.
William wants a red balloon. We don't have a red balloon. Heck, we don't even have balloons. He starts screaming. Elizabeth and Carolyn start screaming. More loudly than you've ever heard screaming before. It's a scream off over an object that we don't even possess.
FOR PETE'S SAKE. WE DON'T EVEN HAVE ANY DAMN BALLOONS!!!
I put everyone in time-out and they promptly poop in their underwear.
Charlie comes in to check on me and jokes that my eyes are flashing "ERROR 845: Consult Owner's Manual." That means that I'm verging on collapse.
A stiff drink is necessary. And maybe some electric shock therapy.