the beauty of being a parent is you can pretend the things your children tell you will come to pass.

yesterday after art class wingman and i took our picnic lunch to the nearby park.

and in this neck of the woods where there really is no spring, just a series of overcast, chilly and sometimes windy days punctuated by the occasional sunny day, this consists of being optimistic about the prospect of picnicking in the park but really just eating lunch in the car because it's too cold outside.

again.

it was just the two of us with the duke off at the church in the middle of nowhere taking his test.

there were some teenagers on skateboards going through the parking lot in a noisy bunch.

wingman was watching them. he's fascinated by teenagers. but not in the way you think.

he's fascinated by teenagers in the way that old people are "fascinated" by "kids these days!"

"mama, i just can't understand why teenagers are always not behaving"

"well, it's not that they're not behaving, it's that they're generally not hanging out with their parents in public. so if their parents aren't around to remind them about their manners and behaving, they're not going to always do it"

"but they're big! they should know without their mothers telling them!"

"teenagers are really just big kids. they're still learning. just like you"

"well, when i'm a teenager i'm always going to hang out with you AND i'm going to behave"

cut. print. laminate. put in wallet. save for seven years. pull out when necessary.

he's munching his sandwich and staring at them. then he mutters and shakes his head

"they're not even wearing helmets"

x.

my other brain is the internet.

this is the week that the duke takes the two day test out at the big church in the middle of nowhere.

for the first year i waited all day both days in the parking lot for fear of leaving him at a big church in the middle of nowhere.

that was as fun as it sounds.

last year he told me to just leave him, he was fine, and he would be fine until i came back to get him.

i was reluctant but left anyway. but before i went i found the "church" part of the church went inside and prayed to god that he would be safe from underpaid and bitter proctors, religious fanatics attacking from the outside, and creepy janitors with basement offices.

this year i'm giving it less thought and i don't think i'll have to offer up my prayer. at least not in the church. i'll just offer it up the way i normally do every day. keep him safe and close and free from harm. always.

i don't know how we relax about things exactly. it being such a gradual process and all.

sure he's older and sure i'm no wiser, but i am learning to let go. a bit.

in other news, the raccoons have discovered my compost.

there's a metaphor, huh?

the lord of the ring saw them, well one, out there last night when he was trying to drag in our vagabond kitty.

will they come every night and feast on the compost, i wonder?

because i can't have that. i'm all for raccoons, it's just i'd like some actual dirt from this compost one day AND raccoons hanging around is not good for the cats living here. cats who don't like to come in when they're called because they all think they're special and exempt, and because i think they rather like me hauling my ass out there in the dark and giving them a ride home.

plus, there was that little 700 dollar matter of the mama cat being attacked by raccoons and having a subsequent and costly surgery last year. no thanks.

maybe i get a bin? what kind? and a bin seems a bit like cheating, doesn't it?

you can see i've gotten a lot farther in this gardening thing. sheesh.

i guess i'll online because isn't that what you do when you don't know what to do?

new wine blog tonight. AND it's champagne dahlings, so put on your pearls and cleanse your palates!

x.

adventures in clothing; part two.

TWO BOYS, ONE SHIRT

so on the same trip to old navy that yielded the little black maternity dress i managed to get a good deal on some shirts for the boybarians.

the shirts were basically the same, with a variation in the screened design and color.

button up soft cotton polo, blue with some stripes and a skate design on the duke's , and white with a surf/palm tree design on wingman's.

the duke put his on, buttoned to. the. very. top., untucked with flat front khakis and his monochrome black chuck taylor's.

"i feel taller in this outfit"

"oh. well, why don't you unbutton that top button?"

"i never button the top button"

"i noticed. but why?"

"because i'm uptight. and ticklish"

well. then.

so later in the morning wingman comes out with his new shirt on. completely unbuttoned, with a not so clean pajama shirt on underneath, tucked into big silk basketball shorts, pirate socks pulled all the way up to his knees and tennis shoes. the pair that's missing the tongue in one shoe, and peeling on the sole on the other shoe. not the pair that fits better and is cleaner and newer. the old falling apart pair because he loves them best.

this represents an "outfit" to wingman.

"oh, wingman, you're wearing your new shirt"

"yeah"

"is that what you're wearing to art class?"

"yeah"

yeah.

so i'm living with felix unger and the big lebowski.

so. yeah.

x.

adventures in clothing; part one.

LITTLE BLACK DRESS

i have a credit at old navy and decided to use it up. so i went in search of some summer things for the duke. such a mom, huh? *i* have a credit and my first thought is what do i get for the kids.

it turns out i found a few items for the duke and a shirt for wingman so everything isn't a hand me down (though that kid does love a hand me down more than any kid i've ever met. a great joy for him is to find out that he is the THIRD kid to wear a particular piece of clothing. go figure) and they were all on great sale.

on the way up to the cash register i veered off into the women's section to try my luck. some think that gardening is a form of legalized gambling? trying on clothes ought to be straight up illegal.

BUT! right off the bat i found a black dress. nice v neckline that extended to the shoulders, 3/4 length sleeves, just the right length, stretchy. my kind of dress.

i imagined it would be cute in the fall, with tall boots and a cropped denim jacket. the tag said medium which is not my usual stomping grounds where the hips and ass are concerned, but it looked about the right size so i tried it on anyway.

so! cute! it fit great. not too loose, not too tight. definitely a great dress. AND THE BEST PART, it was only 3.97!!! it was deeply discounted to make way for all the new stuff. but still! 3.97??!!??

good lord no wonder asia's gonna take over the world and soon.

so i bought it. i showed it off to the lord of the ring and felt terribly smug about the whole thing.

the next day when i was hanging it in the closet...okay who am i kidding!?! the next day when i was taking it from the pile of laundry in desperate needing of folding from downstairs to the pile of laundry in desperate needing of folding upstairs, i noticed a little funny stitching at the side. it was on both sides, in fact. right below the waist. it seemed to give it a bit of a *pouf.* i hadn't noticed it the day before.

i've been down this road. twice. and with a heavy knowing heart i looked at the tag. this time a little more closely.

and there it was. in tiny lettering but there none. the. less.

MATERNITY

oh. my. god. it's a maternity dress! NO. FARKIN'. WONDER. it fit so goddamned good! in regular clothes of the unpregnant if i don't truss myself to the inch worthy of a turkey dinner or employ the use of smoke, mirrors, and well time distractions, i looked like i'm four months pregnant! but that's not needed in maternity clothes. they have a way of fitting the BELLY AND MAKING YOU LOOK GOOD NO MATTER WHAT!

and for the record, i did not look anywhere NEAR pregnant in that dress. at least, i don't think i did.

aaack!

my little black maternity dress.

i was slightly deflated at first, then you know what? i just said fuck it.

life's too short. it's a cute dress. it fits. it was 3.97. vanity?check! practicality?check! cheap ass bastard approved?check! all my personalities were happy.

do i care it's a maternity dress? no. i figure i've got a roof over my head, love in my heart, i'm not buried in rubble, my kids weren't swept away by the sea, and i have a cute little black dress. that fits.

i'm the luckiest girl in the world.

so if you see me this fall wearing a little black dress and looking cute, please don't ask me how far along i am.

x.

weeds.

busy busy!

school is winding down for the year. we go until the end of june, so we're finishing up some subjects and trying to get all the way through some others.

baseball is going well. the duke is getting better each year which makes it a lot of fun to watch. and surprise surprise there's actually a great little group of boys on the team AND some very cool parents! gasp! shock!

i've been out in the garden attempting yet again to transform a neglected garden and creeping weed patch into an oasis. oh who am i kidding, i'm just trying to get it to look presentable!

it's going well. digging sod out from rock borders is not my favorite, but there is satisfaction at the end when it's over.

and there is the curiousness that is my tulips. i finally planted tulips last spring. and then waited all winter for my beautiful batch of pale pink tulips to appear.

only they were a bold orange! go figure. i'm sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere.

i'm unearthing some plants from weed choked spots and hoping they'll take to their new digs. the lord of the ring is resurrecting our raspberries one weed choked cane at a time and hoping for a return to our days of home grown raspberries.

AND we've got a ton of strawberry plants from the few we planted last year. well, once we dig out the huge mat of weeds surrounding them.

notice a theme?

the thing about gardening is the thing about most things i don't do well. persistence, patience, constant vigilance. not my thing.

BUT every year i tell myself this is the year i DON'T drop the trowel half way through. that this year will be different. things will be planted AND taken care of. things will grow and bloom to their FULL POTENTIAL. and that no amount of weeds will deter me.

but that's the beauty in gardening, right? that i don't know shit about it, and yet each year presents potential. the opportunity to learn, to *grow* if you will.

besides, like a friend said recently, isn't gardening just a form of legalized gambling anyway? that even the most experienced gardeners are taking a chance each time they dig a hole or sow a seed?

that there are forces at work greater than any amount of knowledge one can posses about gardening.

we'll see. i remain as optimistic as *i* can.

which means, don't hold your breath.

new wine blog tonight.

turns out cheap wine month will be EXTENDED!!!

(until further notice in fact. thank you mr. bush)

the financial crisis hits home and it's a good thing this girl knows her cheap wine or else it would be a sad day at the weed patch.

x.

the irrational irritation doesn't fall far from the tree.

the duke this morning

"i don't care for smooth jazz. it just makes me tense"

if you've got a minute today say a big ol' prayer for the people in myanmar. and if you've got more than a minute and a few bucks, the red cross could sure use donations.

x.