we are headed to the emerald city to ring in the new year with lil' sis and her family...
i will be back on monday and until then, enjoy your holiday and BE SAFE!
blessings for a beautiful and bountiful new year, x.
Friday, December 31, 2004
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
what i wonder is...
well i wonder many a thing...
i know, recent events being such as they are it sucks that i take advantage of the luxury to sit and wonder...i am alive...i am safe...that should be enough...but somehow it's not...
because while i am alive and safe i am also more than slightly touched by the evil that is mild chronic depression, slight self absorption (really, i find that it's barely noticeable), and the fact that the world indeed does suck every once in awhile without my having anything to do with it...
which should lead me to therapy, but that's another story...
for instance lately i wonder if the lord of the ring will have a job after this afternoon which then gets me to wondering exactly how far i will have to make this chicken i'm roasting stretch...happy new year, carcass casserole anyone?...
i wonder what exactly it is that makes drinking in the afternoon wrong...
anyone?...
i wonder why it is the cat has total access to her own private bathroom facilities yet still prefers to pee on my bed...
(perhaps i'm not the only creature in this house who could benefit from a little therapy)
i'm sure there are more, but because i am also currently consumed with wondering why it is that three boys together (nephew visiting) feel like a baker's dozen i can't come up with any more...
it's definite boybarianpalooza at the big red house today!
i do have to say that i called auntieEN who has a fiancee' and future in-laws all living in/near chennai (madras) on the coast of india and she reports that he and his family are safe and have not been personally affected by the recent tidal waves...
i was wondering heavily about that all day yesterday and this morning, and now can scratch that off the list...
hey why not make it an even two scratches and forget wondering why it is that drinking in the afternoon is wrong...
x.
okay, i'm back...just so y'all don't think i'm in the corner with a bottle of colt45 while the boybarians +1 trash the joint (really it didn't cross my mind for a second...well maybe for a second but NO longer than that!...and i would have totally put it in a paper bag so they didn't know it was beer that i was drinking...really, i do have some class ;) ) i wanted to let you know that there has been a change of plans...the boybarians +1 and i are having tea and biscuits...
it's very sweet and highly amusing to sit and sip hot tea with these three knuckleheads and makes me wonder why i didn't think of it sooner...
i know, recent events being such as they are it sucks that i take advantage of the luxury to sit and wonder...i am alive...i am safe...that should be enough...but somehow it's not...
because while i am alive and safe i am also more than slightly touched by the evil that is mild chronic depression, slight self absorption (really, i find that it's barely noticeable), and the fact that the world indeed does suck every once in awhile without my having anything to do with it...
which should lead me to therapy, but that's another story...
for instance lately i wonder if the lord of the ring will have a job after this afternoon which then gets me to wondering exactly how far i will have to make this chicken i'm roasting stretch...happy new year, carcass casserole anyone?...
i wonder what exactly it is that makes drinking in the afternoon wrong...
anyone?...
i wonder why it is the cat has total access to her own private bathroom facilities yet still prefers to pee on my bed...
(perhaps i'm not the only creature in this house who could benefit from a little therapy)
i'm sure there are more, but because i am also currently consumed with wondering why it is that three boys together (nephew visiting) feel like a baker's dozen i can't come up with any more...
it's definite boybarianpalooza at the big red house today!
i do have to say that i called auntieEN who has a fiancee' and future in-laws all living in/near chennai (madras) on the coast of india and she reports that he and his family are safe and have not been personally affected by the recent tidal waves...
i was wondering heavily about that all day yesterday and this morning, and now can scratch that off the list...
hey why not make it an even two scratches and forget wondering why it is that drinking in the afternoon is wrong...
x.
okay, i'm back...just so y'all don't think i'm in the corner with a bottle of colt45 while the boybarians +1 trash the joint (really it didn't cross my mind for a second...well maybe for a second but NO longer than that!...and i would have totally put it in a paper bag so they didn't know it was beer that i was drinking...really, i do have some class ;) ) i wanted to let you know that there has been a change of plans...the boybarians +1 and i are having tea and biscuits...
it's very sweet and highly amusing to sit and sip hot tea with these three knuckleheads and makes me wonder why i didn't think of it sooner...
Monday, December 27, 2004
hell hath no fury like mother nature...
i had something not particularly witty or profound to type today but i think i will keep it to myself and instead dedicate this space to expressing my extreme sadness and shocked horror at the continued devastation and death being brought by yesterday's earthquake and resulting tidal waves...
wow, it really makes "everything else" just seem like a drop in the bucket, doesn' t it?...
x.
wow, it really makes "everything else" just seem like a drop in the bucket, doesn' t it?...
x.
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
"now i will place my hands between your breasts"
so we get to the airport early on monday morning...
they tell you to be there two hours before your flight...but then don't open the check-in counter until an hour before your flight...
okay...thanks for that, i could really have used that extra hour to sleep, but whatever...
so i wait in line for an hour for the counter to open, check my bags and head to security...
as we are in line for the security check the guy who checks boarding passes and i.d.'s lets me know that wingman and i have been "red flagged" by security as "a risk"...
i look at him like he is insane...
"um, my son is three years old...how could he possibly be flagged by security?"
"i'm sorry ma'am, i'm not privy to that kind of information...could you step over here please"
"but i have two sons...why is it only one of them is flagged?"
"ma'am, could you step out of the line over here please"
meanwhile as he is ushering us out of line he loudly shouts to the security detail at the front
"we have two red flags here!...two red flags!"
thanks buddy...i can feel all of the necks craning to get a better look at the would be terrorists...i am sure they are bummed that it isn't someone more exotic and dangerous looking...just a slightly plump irritated looking woman with two small kids...oooh, better clutch your carry on a bit tighter to your body and hope we aren't on your plane!...
basically this means that we are sent to a little glass enclosed room next to the carry on x-ray checker thing and get patted down, frisked, wanded (that wand thing they beep over your body) and questioned...
meanwhile, no less than five security agents completely dismantle all of our carry ons, including the duke's...who again, is oddly enough not flagged by security...just me and wingman...but because he is with us in the room (i couldn't leave him outside the room like they wanted me to) his stuff is gone through too...
we get in the room and the agent says "just take a seat and relax"
i look at her and say
"right...what an excellent idea...say, any tips on how that's possible?"
she gives me a weak smile...probably because she knows that i know i am prohibited by law of saying anything truly nasty to her...and probably because she must be more than slightly embarrassed by the fact that she will now have to question and frisk a three year old...
by now my shoes have been taken, i'm down to pants and a shirt in a freezing airport, my sons and i are being treated with suspicion, and all my stuff is on a table completely being gone through...and, because of this, i may miss my flight...i'm relaxed alright...
so then she questions with the standard questions about where i am going, etc...meanwhile, EVERYBODY on the security staff going through our stuff did seem duly embarrassed about the situation...you know, going through two kid's backpacks, rifling through the captain underpants activity book for secret documents outlining elaborate attack plots, checking in the philadelphia chickens coloring crayon box for weapons, rifling through a child's wallet perhaps to find evidence in the form of large unmarked foreign bills...oh, and the fact that wingman is THREE AND ALL!!...
but once you are flagged, that's it...they have to take you through the whole procedure...i am very obviously pissed and cannot seem to answer any of the questions without complete irritation...
"would you prefer a male agent to come in and pat down your son?"
"actually, i would prefer NO agent come in and pat down my THREE YEAR OLD SON...but since i obviously don't have a choice in the matter you are welcome to do it"
meanwhile she's got her hands on my breasts (i am not wearing a bra due to the rash i had...in hindsight, this was a bad decision...but it's too late now) and is asking me to roll down the waistband of my pants...
the duke is looking at the both of us like we're insane...
then she has wingman spread his legs and she actually honest to god pats him down!!!...everywhere!!!(of course, the duke thinks this is great fun and wants her to pat him down too!)
and then she questions wingman!!!
okay, so she doesn't shine a light on him or anything, but she asks where we are going and his favorite color...i know, so she wasn't "questioning" him, just trying to be nice but it doesn't wash with me...i have decided to be pissed and i was holding on to that for all it was worth...
and it doesn't help that now that the duke is in on the "fun", this seems like a big adventure...
and because i want him to feel comfortable, even if i don't, i have to validate this...so as he smiles at me i am forced to smile back with a "yeah, sure, this is fun!" smile...i am not amused by this turn of events...
when all is said and done and we are excused from the room and can get our stuff everybody is being overly cheerful to us...
"hey there sport, is this your backpack, you can put it on now!"
gee thanks, after i PACK IT BACK UP FOR THE SECOND TIME THIS MORNING!!!
"ma'am we're all set you're welcome to pack your stuff back up"
"i certainly hope it doesn't take me as long to pack it up this time as it took me THE FIRST TIME I DID IT!"
i know i'm being childish, but i don't care...fuck them and their goddamned security...i am a woman traveling with two small children three thousand miles from home that is most certainly going to miss her flight if i don't repack three crayons and a purse and gather up three jackets, three pairs of gloves, three scarves and three hats not to mention wrestle two kids back into shoes and run to the farthest mother fuckin' gate in the place!...
i was up at 12 am, traveled through two hours of snow, and had two more hours of waiting at this airport...i am sweaty and pissed i have been interrupted and felt up and embarrassed and had to watch as someone PATTED DOWN MY THREE YEAR OLD SON!...and it's not even six am!!!
i am packing up my stuff refusing to chit chat with any of the five people trying to be nice to me as i try to shove everything back into wherever it will fit...
did i mention i was JUST getting over that head to toe rash as well...
so they are all standing there, embarrassed and smiling at me and i am packing my purse and trying to keep track of the boybarians and our stuff as i am just right there in the same line and using the same table as everybody else who didn't get felt up and everybody is rushing by us grabbing their stuff coming off the x-ray machine bumping into me and the boys and pissed that WE are in THEIR way because they are all just trying to get to their flights...
i snap...
i am packing my purse and grab my benedryl and two tubes of anti-itch cream and look at the woman who i saw going through my purse...
"i notice you aren't wearing gloves"
"no ma'am we don't often wear gloves when conducting a search"
"well that's a shame as i'm just getting over a three day head to toe rash of unknown origin...the doctors believe it's probably contagious (lie)...i certainly hope you don't get anything like that after touching all of my medication and personal items...it itched like holy hell and was not pretty...you know, raised welts, blisters where my clothing touched too tightly, swelling, lots of itching in places you'd rather not be itching in...(unfortunately, not a lie)"
i scooped up the jackets and my shoved together purse and pushed the boybarians ahead of me and we ran like hell to the other end of the airport just in time for boarding...
and the only reason we made it was because the plane was being de-iced and as a result, boarding was delayed by fifteen minutes...
i could have been more polite...i could have been more accommodating...and really, i usually am...i count on security to keep me and my family and my country safe...but really, come on...is patting down a three year old really what homeland security is all about?...
sadly, i am sure more than a few people have used their children for all manner of illegal and dangerous activities..certainly in hindsight i can be a bit more objective...but at the time, it was impossible given the circumstances...
this could be the makings of me turning into one of those people who refuses to travel more than ten minutes away from home...i can see it all now...i'll watch travel shows and buy stuff from the shopping channel and feel as though i am seeing all there is to see in life...without ever having to leave the house...
but, it's done...we are home...and really, i guess that's all that matters...and one day, it might even seem funny...and, like i said...even though i am still pissed, i can be more objective about it now...this world is changing daily...and sadly not for the better i'm afraid...i'm surprised it wasn't worse and hasn't happened more often...
honestly though, now that i really think about it?...i have to say, i have always thought there was something a bit shifty about wingman...
x.
they tell you to be there two hours before your flight...but then don't open the check-in counter until an hour before your flight...
okay...thanks for that, i could really have used that extra hour to sleep, but whatever...
so i wait in line for an hour for the counter to open, check my bags and head to security...
as we are in line for the security check the guy who checks boarding passes and i.d.'s lets me know that wingman and i have been "red flagged" by security as "a risk"...
i look at him like he is insane...
"um, my son is three years old...how could he possibly be flagged by security?"
"i'm sorry ma'am, i'm not privy to that kind of information...could you step over here please"
"but i have two sons...why is it only one of them is flagged?"
"ma'am, could you step out of the line over here please"
meanwhile as he is ushering us out of line he loudly shouts to the security detail at the front
"we have two red flags here!...two red flags!"
thanks buddy...i can feel all of the necks craning to get a better look at the would be terrorists...i am sure they are bummed that it isn't someone more exotic and dangerous looking...just a slightly plump irritated looking woman with two small kids...oooh, better clutch your carry on a bit tighter to your body and hope we aren't on your plane!...
basically this means that we are sent to a little glass enclosed room next to the carry on x-ray checker thing and get patted down, frisked, wanded (that wand thing they beep over your body) and questioned...
meanwhile, no less than five security agents completely dismantle all of our carry ons, including the duke's...who again, is oddly enough not flagged by security...just me and wingman...but because he is with us in the room (i couldn't leave him outside the room like they wanted me to) his stuff is gone through too...
we get in the room and the agent says "just take a seat and relax"
i look at her and say
"right...what an excellent idea...say, any tips on how that's possible?"
she gives me a weak smile...probably because she knows that i know i am prohibited by law of saying anything truly nasty to her...and probably because she must be more than slightly embarrassed by the fact that she will now have to question and frisk a three year old...
by now my shoes have been taken, i'm down to pants and a shirt in a freezing airport, my sons and i are being treated with suspicion, and all my stuff is on a table completely being gone through...and, because of this, i may miss my flight...i'm relaxed alright...
so then she questions with the standard questions about where i am going, etc...meanwhile, EVERYBODY on the security staff going through our stuff did seem duly embarrassed about the situation...you know, going through two kid's backpacks, rifling through the captain underpants activity book for secret documents outlining elaborate attack plots, checking in the philadelphia chickens coloring crayon box for weapons, rifling through a child's wallet perhaps to find evidence in the form of large unmarked foreign bills...oh, and the fact that wingman is THREE AND ALL!!...
but once you are flagged, that's it...they have to take you through the whole procedure...i am very obviously pissed and cannot seem to answer any of the questions without complete irritation...
"would you prefer a male agent to come in and pat down your son?"
"actually, i would prefer NO agent come in and pat down my THREE YEAR OLD SON...but since i obviously don't have a choice in the matter you are welcome to do it"
meanwhile she's got her hands on my breasts (i am not wearing a bra due to the rash i had...in hindsight, this was a bad decision...but it's too late now) and is asking me to roll down the waistband of my pants...
the duke is looking at the both of us like we're insane...
then she has wingman spread his legs and she actually honest to god pats him down!!!...everywhere!!!(of course, the duke thinks this is great fun and wants her to pat him down too!)
and then she questions wingman!!!
okay, so she doesn't shine a light on him or anything, but she asks where we are going and his favorite color...i know, so she wasn't "questioning" him, just trying to be nice but it doesn't wash with me...i have decided to be pissed and i was holding on to that for all it was worth...
and it doesn't help that now that the duke is in on the "fun", this seems like a big adventure...
and because i want him to feel comfortable, even if i don't, i have to validate this...so as he smiles at me i am forced to smile back with a "yeah, sure, this is fun!" smile...i am not amused by this turn of events...
when all is said and done and we are excused from the room and can get our stuff everybody is being overly cheerful to us...
"hey there sport, is this your backpack, you can put it on now!"
gee thanks, after i PACK IT BACK UP FOR THE SECOND TIME THIS MORNING!!!
"ma'am we're all set you're welcome to pack your stuff back up"
"i certainly hope it doesn't take me as long to pack it up this time as it took me THE FIRST TIME I DID IT!"
i know i'm being childish, but i don't care...fuck them and their goddamned security...i am a woman traveling with two small children three thousand miles from home that is most certainly going to miss her flight if i don't repack three crayons and a purse and gather up three jackets, three pairs of gloves, three scarves and three hats not to mention wrestle two kids back into shoes and run to the farthest mother fuckin' gate in the place!...
i was up at 12 am, traveled through two hours of snow, and had two more hours of waiting at this airport...i am sweaty and pissed i have been interrupted and felt up and embarrassed and had to watch as someone PATTED DOWN MY THREE YEAR OLD SON!...and it's not even six am!!!
i am packing up my stuff refusing to chit chat with any of the five people trying to be nice to me as i try to shove everything back into wherever it will fit...
did i mention i was JUST getting over that head to toe rash as well...
so they are all standing there, embarrassed and smiling at me and i am packing my purse and trying to keep track of the boybarians and our stuff as i am just right there in the same line and using the same table as everybody else who didn't get felt up and everybody is rushing by us grabbing their stuff coming off the x-ray machine bumping into me and the boys and pissed that WE are in THEIR way because they are all just trying to get to their flights...
i snap...
i am packing my purse and grab my benedryl and two tubes of anti-itch cream and look at the woman who i saw going through my purse...
"i notice you aren't wearing gloves"
"no ma'am we don't often wear gloves when conducting a search"
"well that's a shame as i'm just getting over a three day head to toe rash of unknown origin...the doctors believe it's probably contagious (lie)...i certainly hope you don't get anything like that after touching all of my medication and personal items...it itched like holy hell and was not pretty...you know, raised welts, blisters where my clothing touched too tightly, swelling, lots of itching in places you'd rather not be itching in...(unfortunately, not a lie)"
i scooped up the jackets and my shoved together purse and pushed the boybarians ahead of me and we ran like hell to the other end of the airport just in time for boarding...
and the only reason we made it was because the plane was being de-iced and as a result, boarding was delayed by fifteen minutes...
i could have been more polite...i could have been more accommodating...and really, i usually am...i count on security to keep me and my family and my country safe...but really, come on...is patting down a three year old really what homeland security is all about?...
sadly, i am sure more than a few people have used their children for all manner of illegal and dangerous activities..certainly in hindsight i can be a bit more objective...but at the time, it was impossible given the circumstances...
this could be the makings of me turning into one of those people who refuses to travel more than ten minutes away from home...i can see it all now...i'll watch travel shows and buy stuff from the shopping channel and feel as though i am seeing all there is to see in life...without ever having to leave the house...
but, it's done...we are home...and really, i guess that's all that matters...and one day, it might even seem funny...and, like i said...even though i am still pissed, i can be more objective about it now...this world is changing daily...and sadly not for the better i'm afraid...i'm surprised it wasn't worse and hasn't happened more often...
honestly though, now that i really think about it?...i have to say, i have always thought there was something a bit shifty about wingman...
x.
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
home again, home again...
well, then...
the boybarians and i have returned from snowy new england...le petit prince was born earlier than we had expected so we did what needed doin' and changed plans and left before we got kicked out!...
seriously, the goddess mother was a birthing goddess, the labor was beautiful and quick, and the new family is settling in quite nicely...the goddess mother and the mathematician were born to be parents...
the boybarians were in the room for the whole thing, and while the goddess mother was pushing wingman so graciously blessed her with a continued chorus of "roy!...roy, roy, roy!...roy, roy roy!"
and that baby is just sweet and beautiful...and indeed le petit prince if i've ever met one...two weeks old today in fact...i love him...
so we're home...in time for christmas and for us all to recuperate from travel induced colds...
some highlights from our trip, other than the birth, included duke learning to gamble and use the phrase "kick your butt", wingman getting frisked by security at the airport, and my head to toe and everywhere in between rash that was just as ghastly as it sounds...stories to follow...
i've missed writing terribly...wait, i said that wrong...what i mean is i have terribly missed writing...see, i'm outta practice...
i hope you have all been well...i'll be back tomorrow, right now i am marveling at how much i love my home and the wonderful christmas tree the lord of the ring put up for us to decorate...
i cried when i got to the airport in the emerald city...it's good to be home...it was good to be there, but it's good to be home...
it's amazing the difference a day of travel can make...from snowy new england to the soggy northwest...
apparently, you can get there from here...and back again...
merry winter solstice...
blessings,
x.
the boybarians and i have returned from snowy new england...le petit prince was born earlier than we had expected so we did what needed doin' and changed plans and left before we got kicked out!...
seriously, the goddess mother was a birthing goddess, the labor was beautiful and quick, and the new family is settling in quite nicely...the goddess mother and the mathematician were born to be parents...
the boybarians were in the room for the whole thing, and while the goddess mother was pushing wingman so graciously blessed her with a continued chorus of "roy!...roy, roy, roy!...roy, roy roy!"
and that baby is just sweet and beautiful...and indeed le petit prince if i've ever met one...two weeks old today in fact...i love him...
so we're home...in time for christmas and for us all to recuperate from travel induced colds...
some highlights from our trip, other than the birth, included duke learning to gamble and use the phrase "kick your butt", wingman getting frisked by security at the airport, and my head to toe and everywhere in between rash that was just as ghastly as it sounds...stories to follow...
i've missed writing terribly...wait, i said that wrong...what i mean is i have terribly missed writing...see, i'm outta practice...
i hope you have all been well...i'll be back tomorrow, right now i am marveling at how much i love my home and the wonderful christmas tree the lord of the ring put up for us to decorate...
i cried when i got to the airport in the emerald city...it's good to be home...it was good to be there, but it's good to be home...
it's amazing the difference a day of travel can make...from snowy new england to the soggy northwest...
apparently, you can get there from here...and back again...
merry winter solstice...
blessings,
x.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
leavin' on a jet plane...
tomorrow morning at an ungodly hour the boybarians and i are heading east on a big ol' jet airliner...
the goddess mother is due to give birth in about a week so off we go and won't be back till the new year...
i will have limited access to y'all and will check in when i can...
for now, wish us luck!...well, actually i'd send that luck to our fellow passengers...whoa boy...
i am a bit concerned about the frisking at the security checkpoint...and before my morning coffee!...and about the fact that i am checking luggage that contains a hand held breast pump...unmarked in a plastic baggie...god only knows what kind of chaos that could bring...
in the meantime, be good while i'm gone and i'll drop you a line from beautiful christmasy new england...
x.
the goddess mother is due to give birth in about a week so off we go and won't be back till the new year...
i will have limited access to y'all and will check in when i can...
for now, wish us luck!...well, actually i'd send that luck to our fellow passengers...whoa boy...
i am a bit concerned about the frisking at the security checkpoint...and before my morning coffee!...and about the fact that i am checking luggage that contains a hand held breast pump...unmarked in a plastic baggie...god only knows what kind of chaos that could bring...
in the meantime, be good while i'm gone and i'll drop you a line from beautiful christmasy new england...
x.
Monday, November 29, 2004
boys...
i have started giving the boybarians separate baths...
just for more of a one on one time with me while i wash their hair and chat with them a bit, and to give them more time to themselves...
so i decided tonight to really teach the duke about penile self care as he is not circumcised...previously, i had just done cursory checks every very once in awhile during diaper changes and later during bathing...
i get wingman occupied so i can talk to the duke privately and seriously about his penis, the difference between being circumcised and not, and show him how to pull back the foreskin and check the head himself...
well, true to form wingman did not cooperate...
what he did was sit outside the door and sing at the top of his lungs...
it was the starbuck's commercial...
"roy...roy, roy, roy...roy, roy, roy...roy a man, doughin' (goin') to wort (work)..."
over and over and over...and over again...
meanwhile, i have my "this is important yet you should know that you can ask anything and above all be comfortable" voice on...i'm explaining the whole deal...i'm getting to the part where i'm talking about pulling the foreskin back, feeling as though i may have to very gingerly talk him through it, perhaps showing him how i have done it while he's previously been too young or too distracted to notice...meanwhile, hoping he's okay with it and it doesn't make him too uncomfortable or nervous about doing it......just as i'm getting to the heart of the matter he says matter of factly
"yeah...i know...i do this all the time..see"
and then i get a visual...
oh...well...okay...good work, then...carry on, lad...be in the kitchen if you need me...
before leaving i did give the chat (more quickly than i had planned) about checking and cleaning, and then left it at that...
i leave the bathroom and trip over wingman who's at the door and has since stopped singing...
"what you ah do-een ah his pee pee?...you ah neet (need) to tet (check) it?...you ah neet to tet mine too?...i ah not want you ah to tet mine...my ah pee pee is seeping (sleeping)...see"
and then he pulls down his pants...
and then i hear from the bathtub
"mama! mama! come here!...you gotta see how big my penis is!"
boys...boys, boys, boys...boys, boys, boys...
x.
just for more of a one on one time with me while i wash their hair and chat with them a bit, and to give them more time to themselves...
so i decided tonight to really teach the duke about penile self care as he is not circumcised...previously, i had just done cursory checks every very once in awhile during diaper changes and later during bathing...
i get wingman occupied so i can talk to the duke privately and seriously about his penis, the difference between being circumcised and not, and show him how to pull back the foreskin and check the head himself...
well, true to form wingman did not cooperate...
what he did was sit outside the door and sing at the top of his lungs...
it was the starbuck's commercial...
"roy...roy, roy, roy...roy, roy, roy...roy a man, doughin' (goin') to wort (work)..."
over and over and over...and over again...
meanwhile, i have my "this is important yet you should know that you can ask anything and above all be comfortable" voice on...i'm explaining the whole deal...i'm getting to the part where i'm talking about pulling the foreskin back, feeling as though i may have to very gingerly talk him through it, perhaps showing him how i have done it while he's previously been too young or too distracted to notice...meanwhile, hoping he's okay with it and it doesn't make him too uncomfortable or nervous about doing it......just as i'm getting to the heart of the matter he says matter of factly
"yeah...i know...i do this all the time..see"
and then i get a visual...
oh...well...okay...good work, then...carry on, lad...be in the kitchen if you need me...
before leaving i did give the chat (more quickly than i had planned) about checking and cleaning, and then left it at that...
i leave the bathroom and trip over wingman who's at the door and has since stopped singing...
"what you ah do-een ah his pee pee?...you ah neet (need) to tet (check) it?...you ah neet to tet mine too?...i ah not want you ah to tet mine...my ah pee pee is seeping (sleeping)...see"
and then he pulls down his pants...
and then i hear from the bathtub
"mama! mama! come here!...you gotta see how big my penis is!"
boys...boys, boys, boys...boys, boys, boys...
x.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
don't worry, i haven't forgotten about you...
this week is crazy busy trying to get school crammed in a short week due to thanksgiving...which occurs two days in a row for our family...
that's a whole lotta turkey...
so, in order to fulfill my bringing duties for thursday and cooking duties for friday i am limited on time and cleverness...
but, i shall return...if i don't see you before then, have a happy thanksgiving...
x.
that's a whole lotta turkey...
so, in order to fulfill my bringing duties for thursday and cooking duties for friday i am limited on time and cleverness...
but, i shall return...if i don't see you before then, have a happy thanksgiving...
x.
Thursday, November 18, 2004
bad mommy, stealing is wrong...oh, and so is lying...
some months ago i mined a bunch of cash from the duke's wallet...it wasn't all at once...but over time i bled the kid dry...
see, he keeps it in my purse so when we go somewhere he has it...
which is an extremely unwise move on his part if you ask me...because it was there and convenient and so i took it...like a common thief...a petty criminal...but it's not like i took the kid's money and spent in on colt 45 and porn...it was necessary, and really for the good of all of us...
at first it was only 10 bucks because i had no cash at the time and needed it...for lunch (he might have starved if i hadn't...we can't have that) at another place that doesn't take cards...i intended to replace it the following day but forgot...
then it was another 7 one time when we parked at the ferry and i had to pay...again, i had no cash and used his...hey, it totally saved him from having to spare change the 7 bucks from other waiting passengers, okay?...
i took the last 2 to pay for a video when i didn't want to use my debit card for such a measly purchase...it was a magic school bus video, which is educational i might add...if i hadn't the duke may never have know what was going on inside ralphie's body...
the change got taken last saturday when the lord of the ring and i had forgotten to bring cash for the soccer coach's gift and we needed it to round out the cash he and i scrounged up...
and where was the duke during this time of thievery you may wonder?...well, since i keep the wallet he really didn't pay much attention to its whereabouts...and then when he did ask?...
i lied...i told him i couldn't find it...so i am a thief and a liar...the deal is i just kept forgetting to get the cash to replace it...it's like me and gas...for my car...the tank has to be nearly empty before i will stop for gas...i just forget, and then when i do remember, it seems like it's always at a bad time...
we've already established that i am lazy, so this really shouldn't come as much of a shock to y'all...
so, the other day i FINALLY went to the bank got the cash i needed and replaced it...all of it...down to the change, and i even slipped in a few extra silver coins...
then today i "found" his wallet...he was absolutely thrilled...and then he totally thanked me for "finding" it...yes, i felt like crap...then he looked at the money and said
"hey, don't you owe me some allowance?"
yeah, like three months worth...but i figure i can string him along till christmas...
x.
see, he keeps it in my purse so when we go somewhere he has it...
which is an extremely unwise move on his part if you ask me...because it was there and convenient and so i took it...like a common thief...a petty criminal...but it's not like i took the kid's money and spent in on colt 45 and porn...it was necessary, and really for the good of all of us...
at first it was only 10 bucks because i had no cash at the time and needed it...for lunch (he might have starved if i hadn't...we can't have that) at another place that doesn't take cards...i intended to replace it the following day but forgot...
then it was another 7 one time when we parked at the ferry and i had to pay...again, i had no cash and used his...hey, it totally saved him from having to spare change the 7 bucks from other waiting passengers, okay?...
i took the last 2 to pay for a video when i didn't want to use my debit card for such a measly purchase...it was a magic school bus video, which is educational i might add...if i hadn't the duke may never have know what was going on inside ralphie's body...
the change got taken last saturday when the lord of the ring and i had forgotten to bring cash for the soccer coach's gift and we needed it to round out the cash he and i scrounged up...
and where was the duke during this time of thievery you may wonder?...well, since i keep the wallet he really didn't pay much attention to its whereabouts...and then when he did ask?...
i lied...i told him i couldn't find it...so i am a thief and a liar...the deal is i just kept forgetting to get the cash to replace it...it's like me and gas...for my car...the tank has to be nearly empty before i will stop for gas...i just forget, and then when i do remember, it seems like it's always at a bad time...
we've already established that i am lazy, so this really shouldn't come as much of a shock to y'all...
so, the other day i FINALLY went to the bank got the cash i needed and replaced it...all of it...down to the change, and i even slipped in a few extra silver coins...
then today i "found" his wallet...he was absolutely thrilled...and then he totally thanked me for "finding" it...yes, i felt like crap...then he looked at the money and said
"hey, don't you owe me some allowance?"
yeah, like three months worth...but i figure i can string him along till christmas...
x.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
with sundays like this who needs mondays?
so two sundays ago i took the boybarians out to a cutesy seaside town...we walked around a bit, spent some time at the bookstore and then set off in search of lunch...
this is where it all falls to hell...
we decide to head across the street to the bakery...they have soups and scones and focaccia bread and then a little something sweet for after...
we go in and are drawn to the big glass case filled with pastries and cakes...everything looks so delicious...we were mesmerized by it all and that's why we must not have seen the four men lurking in the bay window between the doors...
just as i am starting to explain lunch choices it happens...
the four men bust into song and start singing...loudly...right there in the tiny quaint bakery these big men are singing a big song...a big loud song...
the boybarians are just staring at them, and wingman covers his ears...meanwhile, i am trying not to grimace and wondering what to do...i look around to asses my escape options and see that everyone in the friggin' place is watching these guys and they look happy...smiling and bobbing along to the music...
are they insane?...are they drunk?
okay i'm all for artistic expression and all, whatever...but a barbershop quartet in the middle of lunch in the middle of a tiny bakery?...
i realize that in order to leave i would have gather up my stuff and the boybarians and walk right past them singing and in fact might have to shove one out of the way to get to the door...that's clearly not going to do...
i may be bitch but i am a bitch with manners...
so i am trapped in line, shouting out the choices to the boys and wishing the line would move faster...it doesn't because it's one of those hip bakeries staffed by generation "who gives a fuck" and they are all moving slowly and chatting amongst themselves...
god was i ever that annoying?
anyhow, after ten minutes, yes TEN MINUTES of standing in line and listening to the loudest barbershop quartet ever, we get to the front...i place my order (silently hoping that by the time the food is ready a table will be open)...she rings me up...
"oh, um, we don't take cards"
"what?"
"um, yeah, it's just cash or check"
i must have just stood there with that tight look on my face (which anyone who knows me knows that's the look that precedes a bitch attack) but she must have thought i didn't get it...
"um, see cards cost us money for you to use them...so it's like not a good deal for us"
well thank you, suze orman for that enlightening fiscal explanation...that certainly helps the fact that i have been waiting in line for ten minutes being assaulted by a barbershop quartet only to have a child with eyebrow piercings and bra straps bigger than her shirt deny me food...and cash or check only???...you'd think one of them could put their apparently useless thus far college degrees to work and make a sign stating their "policy"...and who writes checks anymore???!!!...
i don't like a place where you're just expected to "know" what's what...and if you have to ask you obviously don't belong there...it's a bakery kids, not some secret ultra cool after hours club...
instead of saying what i would like to, i give her a wan smile (again, manners) and i gather the boys my stuff and my busted ear drums and head out the door...of course all the while trying to explain to the kids why it is they can't have the lunch they chose and trying to keep my ever growing irritation at bay...
by this time the barbershop quartet had finished and as i headed out the door THEY FOLLOWED ME!...
i'm walking up the street and they are right behind me and they start singing!!!...i grabbed the boys hands and start to move faster and faster...
i am being chased by a barbershop quartet!
okay, to be fair, in retrospect i think they started singing when they were behind me and then stopped in front of the shop next to the bakery...but i could have sworn they were following me...
so now i am extremely annoyed and sweaty (bad combo) , and the boybarians are beyond hungry and really whiny...
we eventually find lunch but before we could actually eat it i tried to be a good consumer and alerted the cashier to undercharging me 1.99 and ended up getting charged five extra dollars and then when i alerted him to that he got all snippy and bothered...and in the end mr. employee of the year finally ended up charging me only three extra dollars and my soup got cold in the process...
and of course, we had to bus our own table...and of course there are still tip jars everywhere...
we get back to the car and who is standing in front of it but the barbershop quartet...of course they are...where else would they be?...
they are singing their big ol hearts out and there's a crowd of people (clearly, again, each of them insane, or drunk) smiling and stopping to hear them...we get in the car and just sit there...
"c'mon mama, start the car"
"well, i can't until they stop singing"
"because that would be rude?"
"yes, that would be rude"
so we sit in the car listening to the barbershop quartet...it's the song that never ends...the boybarians heads begin to bob and i think one of them started to hum...
x.
this is where it all falls to hell...
we decide to head across the street to the bakery...they have soups and scones and focaccia bread and then a little something sweet for after...
we go in and are drawn to the big glass case filled with pastries and cakes...everything looks so delicious...we were mesmerized by it all and that's why we must not have seen the four men lurking in the bay window between the doors...
just as i am starting to explain lunch choices it happens...
the four men bust into song and start singing...loudly...right there in the tiny quaint bakery these big men are singing a big song...a big loud song...
the boybarians are just staring at them, and wingman covers his ears...meanwhile, i am trying not to grimace and wondering what to do...i look around to asses my escape options and see that everyone in the friggin' place is watching these guys and they look happy...smiling and bobbing along to the music...
are they insane?...are they drunk?
okay i'm all for artistic expression and all, whatever...but a barbershop quartet in the middle of lunch in the middle of a tiny bakery?...
i realize that in order to leave i would have gather up my stuff and the boybarians and walk right past them singing and in fact might have to shove one out of the way to get to the door...that's clearly not going to do...
i may be bitch but i am a bitch with manners...
so i am trapped in line, shouting out the choices to the boys and wishing the line would move faster...it doesn't because it's one of those hip bakeries staffed by generation "who gives a fuck" and they are all moving slowly and chatting amongst themselves...
god was i ever that annoying?
anyhow, after ten minutes, yes TEN MINUTES of standing in line and listening to the loudest barbershop quartet ever, we get to the front...i place my order (silently hoping that by the time the food is ready a table will be open)...she rings me up...
"oh, um, we don't take cards"
"what?"
"um, yeah, it's just cash or check"
i must have just stood there with that tight look on my face (which anyone who knows me knows that's the look that precedes a bitch attack) but she must have thought i didn't get it...
"um, see cards cost us money for you to use them...so it's like not a good deal for us"
well thank you, suze orman for that enlightening fiscal explanation...that certainly helps the fact that i have been waiting in line for ten minutes being assaulted by a barbershop quartet only to have a child with eyebrow piercings and bra straps bigger than her shirt deny me food...and cash or check only???...you'd think one of them could put their apparently useless thus far college degrees to work and make a sign stating their "policy"...and who writes checks anymore???!!!...
i don't like a place where you're just expected to "know" what's what...and if you have to ask you obviously don't belong there...it's a bakery kids, not some secret ultra cool after hours club...
instead of saying what i would like to, i give her a wan smile (again, manners) and i gather the boys my stuff and my busted ear drums and head out the door...of course all the while trying to explain to the kids why it is they can't have the lunch they chose and trying to keep my ever growing irritation at bay...
by this time the barbershop quartet had finished and as i headed out the door THEY FOLLOWED ME!...
i'm walking up the street and they are right behind me and they start singing!!!...i grabbed the boys hands and start to move faster and faster...
i am being chased by a barbershop quartet!
okay, to be fair, in retrospect i think they started singing when they were behind me and then stopped in front of the shop next to the bakery...but i could have sworn they were following me...
so now i am extremely annoyed and sweaty (bad combo) , and the boybarians are beyond hungry and really whiny...
we eventually find lunch but before we could actually eat it i tried to be a good consumer and alerted the cashier to undercharging me 1.99 and ended up getting charged five extra dollars and then when i alerted him to that he got all snippy and bothered...and in the end mr. employee of the year finally ended up charging me only three extra dollars and my soup got cold in the process...
and of course, we had to bus our own table...and of course there are still tip jars everywhere...
we get back to the car and who is standing in front of it but the barbershop quartet...of course they are...where else would they be?...
they are singing their big ol hearts out and there's a crowd of people (clearly, again, each of them insane, or drunk) smiling and stopping to hear them...we get in the car and just sit there...
"c'mon mama, start the car"
"well, i can't until they stop singing"
"because that would be rude?"
"yes, that would be rude"
so we sit in the car listening to the barbershop quartet...it's the song that never ends...the boybarians heads begin to bob and i think one of them started to hum...
x.
Monday, November 15, 2004
free to be lazy ol' me...
so i am horribly behind on my novel adventure...
i like to think it's because the words i do have represent some really great work, and that it might just have to be about quality at this point rather than quantity...
but that is a crock of shit...the truth is i took a week off and now i am screwed...
i got some good work in today, and will work again after dinner...yup, twice a day for the next fifteen and i just might be able to do this yet...great...the thing is, i've never been a do anything every day kinda gal, so i certainly have no business thinking i'm gonna be able to write twice a day...i'm more the kind that starts off with the best of intentions and then just barely makes it to the cutoff with a big old sigh of relief and the knowledge that it never ends up being a job well done as much as it ends up being, well, at least the job is done...but i am ever optimistic, despite my obvious affliction...
which i do believe they call procrastination...only that sounds far too generous in my case...let's face it, i'm lazy...interested in doing and being more, dreaming big and exploring possibilities...i'm just lousy on the execution...
man, i would have made a really great stoner...i say *would* because of course i couldn't possibly afford to take up smoking pot now...
anyway, this week i aim to get back on track and stay there...and if that doesn't pan out i can fall back and be satisfied with the old "at least i tried" bit...
you see, i was raised during the free to be you and me era...which, in addition to giving me a lifetime of catchy egalitarian kid power songs stuck in my head, sure does come in handy...it's good to know that no matter who i am or what i do, or don't do, that i am special!...that i don't have to *win* to be a *winner*!...hell, i don't even have to finish the damn race!...come to think of it i don't have to even enter the race!!!...i can sit on my ass at home drinking shasta cola watching brady bunch re-runs and i will be just as good as the guy who did win the race...because that's "just who i am", and that is enough...
and with that kind of encouragement i grew up thinking that i could be anything!!! i wanted...even if i strived to be a housework hating, dolls for boys pushing, extreme makeover qualifying ugly woman/man (my choice, of course) married to a dwarf that most certainly WOULD NOT DRESS MY CAT IN AN APRON!!!...and it wouldn't no, SHOULDN'T matter if i was ugly and my partner was short...because apparently we shouldn't care about our looks or our size, shouldn't want to change a thing, and in fact should be ecstatically happy about it!!!...
though if i had a cat who liked to bake i think i'd be totally excited about the possibilities and would want to treat him or her to a fantastic new apron for their efforts...a totally non-gendered, functional, you are free to be who you are and this is in no way trying to box you in or put you in some sort of submissive position in which you must bake at my bidding kinda apron...no siree...or ma'am...or ???...sometimes it's hard to tell with cats...
but, i digress...
ahh, those were the days, indeed...of course reagan had to come along with his "contract for america" and that damned president's fitness challenge and muck it all up, but that's another story...(personally i knew then that arnold was going to be a problem)...
in truth, despite the overtly politically correct (if you were a liberal) soundtrack of my generation, i do want to make it to 50,000 words...i want to finish what i have started and to finish well...i have set a goal for myself and i would like to have a satisfying return on that investment...
BUT, if that doesn't all pan out the way i hope, then at least i can be secure in the knowledge that it's all right to cry...
and more importantly that no matter what happens, i will always be a winner in marlo thomas' eyes...
score!
x.
i like to think it's because the words i do have represent some really great work, and that it might just have to be about quality at this point rather than quantity...
but that is a crock of shit...the truth is i took a week off and now i am screwed...
i got some good work in today, and will work again after dinner...yup, twice a day for the next fifteen and i just might be able to do this yet...great...the thing is, i've never been a do anything every day kinda gal, so i certainly have no business thinking i'm gonna be able to write twice a day...i'm more the kind that starts off with the best of intentions and then just barely makes it to the cutoff with a big old sigh of relief and the knowledge that it never ends up being a job well done as much as it ends up being, well, at least the job is done...but i am ever optimistic, despite my obvious affliction...
which i do believe they call procrastination...only that sounds far too generous in my case...let's face it, i'm lazy...interested in doing and being more, dreaming big and exploring possibilities...i'm just lousy on the execution...
man, i would have made a really great stoner...i say *would* because of course i couldn't possibly afford to take up smoking pot now...
anyway, this week i aim to get back on track and stay there...and if that doesn't pan out i can fall back and be satisfied with the old "at least i tried" bit...
you see, i was raised during the free to be you and me era...which, in addition to giving me a lifetime of catchy egalitarian kid power songs stuck in my head, sure does come in handy...it's good to know that no matter who i am or what i do, or don't do, that i am special!...that i don't have to *win* to be a *winner*!...hell, i don't even have to finish the damn race!...come to think of it i don't have to even enter the race!!!...i can sit on my ass at home drinking shasta cola watching brady bunch re-runs and i will be just as good as the guy who did win the race...because that's "just who i am", and that is enough...
and with that kind of encouragement i grew up thinking that i could be anything!!! i wanted...even if i strived to be a housework hating, dolls for boys pushing, extreme makeover qualifying ugly woman/man (my choice, of course) married to a dwarf that most certainly WOULD NOT DRESS MY CAT IN AN APRON!!!...and it wouldn't no, SHOULDN'T matter if i was ugly and my partner was short...because apparently we shouldn't care about our looks or our size, shouldn't want to change a thing, and in fact should be ecstatically happy about it!!!...
though if i had a cat who liked to bake i think i'd be totally excited about the possibilities and would want to treat him or her to a fantastic new apron for their efforts...a totally non-gendered, functional, you are free to be who you are and this is in no way trying to box you in or put you in some sort of submissive position in which you must bake at my bidding kinda apron...no siree...or ma'am...or ???...sometimes it's hard to tell with cats...
but, i digress...
ahh, those were the days, indeed...of course reagan had to come along with his "contract for america" and that damned president's fitness challenge and muck it all up, but that's another story...(personally i knew then that arnold was going to be a problem)...
in truth, despite the overtly politically correct (if you were a liberal) soundtrack of my generation, i do want to make it to 50,000 words...i want to finish what i have started and to finish well...i have set a goal for myself and i would like to have a satisfying return on that investment...
BUT, if that doesn't all pan out the way i hope, then at least i can be secure in the knowledge that it's all right to cry...
and more importantly that no matter what happens, i will always be a winner in marlo thomas' eyes...
score!
x.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
me and ashcroft both need a little break...
sure, it seems his job was a bit more demanding than mine, but it's all relative, right?...
so i'm off for the next coupla days...
wingman has the sniffly sniffles and is need of more than the usual amount of mama attention and my NaNoWriMo word count needs jumper cables and an iv...it could use a transplant of plot as mine has seemed to atrophy, but that's another problem for another day...
oh, and history stalled somewhere around the byzantine empire last week and we have to get back on track as the gupta empire of medieval india is feeling a bit left out...so we've got more history than usual to complete this week...
next week we start studying the rise of islam and learn about muhammad...well now that's timely wouldn't you say?...maybe i oughta ask old george w. if he'd like to sit in on this one...
be good while i'm gone and if you've got an extra oh say 1,500 words or so lying around could you send them to me?...
thanks...
x.
so i'm off for the next coupla days...
wingman has the sniffly sniffles and is need of more than the usual amount of mama attention and my NaNoWriMo word count needs jumper cables and an iv...it could use a transplant of plot as mine has seemed to atrophy, but that's another problem for another day...
oh, and history stalled somewhere around the byzantine empire last week and we have to get back on track as the gupta empire of medieval india is feeling a bit left out...so we've got more history than usual to complete this week...
next week we start studying the rise of islam and learn about muhammad...well now that's timely wouldn't you say?...maybe i oughta ask old george w. if he'd like to sit in on this one...
be good while i'm gone and if you've got an extra oh say 1,500 words or so lying around could you send them to me?...
thanks...
x.
Monday, November 08, 2004
of pencil boxes and hobbit journals...
we do so much here at the big red house...we learn and live and eat and fight and dream and wreck and repair and mess up and clean...we are each other's best friends and worst enemies...we are in love one moment and at odds the next...we are on a daily basis filling our minds and filling time...we are not exciting and yet the possibilities are endless...
we are a family...
i am a very mortal mama...i rage i laugh i cry i hug i learn i apologize i screw up i shine...
my kids are dream children...they too are mortal...they are the most wonderful annoying god forsaken gifts from the highest on high you could ever want...
but the end of the day, i am so there...thank you bedtime, thank you lights out...
tonight we played a game...due to a set of circumstances beyond our control, it was bedtime when we started...it was touch and go here and there but we had a lot of fun and everybody managed to make it to the end...
wingman won, of course...he always wins...even if he doesn't know the game and you "move" for him...he wins...he's off feeding peanuts to the cat, comes back for his turn, could care less, and wins...you ever want a partner for vegas, take this kid...the duke may have the strategy but damn does that little one have the luck!...
so wingman wins it's the end of the evening and time for teeth brushing and pajama wrestling...and of course, the duke is doing something dumb, dramatic, and duke-like and totally hurts himself...he cries, i hold, long story short he tries to get out of the whole nighttime bathroom ritual (teeth, toilet) due to the "incredible pain" he is suffering...
yeah, no such luck, dude... i have crappy teeth and i vow to help him to not...he doesn't KNOW suffering until he has to deal with teeth subject to genetics and a lifetime of benign neglect...and NOBODY likes a peed in bed at three a.m. due to not using the toilet beforehand...
he's crying, wingman is up too late and beside himself and near tears, and the cat is batting the playing pieces under the furniture which means i'll be on hands and knees to retrieve the suckers...if calgon includes a shot of morphine i'm there...take me away...no really, you need a vein?...
lucky me, the lord of the ring, savior of all things bedtime, is handling the meltdown...
meanwhile, i am handling the delicate psyche of the child...two to be exact...in my own way...
sure, being up too late is the cause, even if it is for family fun...but damn the end of the day no matter the time can be delicate for any of us...especially the little and the sleepy...
upstairs i am mama getting the lamps turned on and beds turned down...and under each pillow a little something...very little, but something...
a few years ago i left a little random gift under the duke's pillow...and every once in awhile since then i will repeat the gesture...he knows it's from me and however small it makes him smile...we are literally talking maybe three or four times...but boy does he talk about it...
"remember that time you left (insert whatever it was here) under my pillow?" it gets brought up more than you know...
it had been some time since the last under the pillow surprise and judging from the tears in the bathroom the time had come again...
i had seen a pencil box with a rain forest theme at the store marked down to 99 cents the week before...i had no idea what possessed me to buy it but i remember thinking at the time "this will come in handy"...it has two pencils, a sharpener, a ruler, and an eraser with all kinds of rain forest animals printed all over...in a handy box...
about a year ago i found a blank journal called "a hobbit's journal" at a library book sale for 10 cents...i bought it simply because the duke and the lord of the ring were reading the hobbit at the time...i had no idea what i would do with it...the duke was much too new at penmanship and creative writing for it to be of any use to him, but i thought at the time "the duke will love this, someday"...
well, that "someday" had come and i knew exactly what to do with each...
the pencil box went under the pillow of a little boy new to school who envied his brother's pencil box...and without one of his own was forced to store his one prized football pencil inside his brother's box...and who despite having won the game that night was still having a difficult time getting to bed without tears due to the overwhelmingness of the lateness of the hour...that went under a pillow with bugs and butterflies on it...
the hobbit's journal went under the pillow of a boy, still little, though you wouldn't know it due to the nature of his perceived "bigness", largely due to the existence of his little brother...and as a result of that had to also deal with this perceived "bigness" in the form of his mother's idea that because of his age and birth order he should be able to be more responsible and less "instigating"...and that for now, he cannot possibly understand that she is still making her way as a mama...and that mama has a hard time remembering that he is still a little guy, regardless of when he was born...a boy in that position could certainly use a place to store thoughts that were his and his alone...thoughts that could be freely written...written not as a school exercise, but as an exercise of his own doing...thoughts that were not checked for grammar and not subject to whether or not they were a proper "example" for his little brother...that journal went under a pillow that had charlie brown and lucy and peppermint patty and snoopy and woodstock...
the pillows were turned over and the surprises found...smiles and chattiness abounded...along with an embarrassed and terribly pleased smile from wingman, and a very sincere thank you from the duke...
the trials of the day were forgotten...in their place were smiles and happiness...
it wasn't much, but if i've learned anything i've learned it's the small stuff that we remember most...
i am not a perfect parent...not even remotely close...damn, some days i feel like they'd keep me out if i didn't show actual documented paper proof that i belonged...
and yeah, i recognize that a bad day can't always be bought off with cheap gifts and the slim hope that such will make it all better...
but sometimes, well, sometimes they can...
because it's the thought that counts...really...and more often than not, that's all we have to go on...
x.
we are a family...
i am a very mortal mama...i rage i laugh i cry i hug i learn i apologize i screw up i shine...
my kids are dream children...they too are mortal...they are the most wonderful annoying god forsaken gifts from the highest on high you could ever want...
but the end of the day, i am so there...thank you bedtime, thank you lights out...
tonight we played a game...due to a set of circumstances beyond our control, it was bedtime when we started...it was touch and go here and there but we had a lot of fun and everybody managed to make it to the end...
wingman won, of course...he always wins...even if he doesn't know the game and you "move" for him...he wins...he's off feeding peanuts to the cat, comes back for his turn, could care less, and wins...you ever want a partner for vegas, take this kid...the duke may have the strategy but damn does that little one have the luck!...
so wingman wins it's the end of the evening and time for teeth brushing and pajama wrestling...and of course, the duke is doing something dumb, dramatic, and duke-like and totally hurts himself...he cries, i hold, long story short he tries to get out of the whole nighttime bathroom ritual (teeth, toilet) due to the "incredible pain" he is suffering...
yeah, no such luck, dude... i have crappy teeth and i vow to help him to not...he doesn't KNOW suffering until he has to deal with teeth subject to genetics and a lifetime of benign neglect...and NOBODY likes a peed in bed at three a.m. due to not using the toilet beforehand...
he's crying, wingman is up too late and beside himself and near tears, and the cat is batting the playing pieces under the furniture which means i'll be on hands and knees to retrieve the suckers...if calgon includes a shot of morphine i'm there...take me away...no really, you need a vein?...
lucky me, the lord of the ring, savior of all things bedtime, is handling the meltdown...
meanwhile, i am handling the delicate psyche of the child...two to be exact...in my own way...
sure, being up too late is the cause, even if it is for family fun...but damn the end of the day no matter the time can be delicate for any of us...especially the little and the sleepy...
upstairs i am mama getting the lamps turned on and beds turned down...and under each pillow a little something...very little, but something...
a few years ago i left a little random gift under the duke's pillow...and every once in awhile since then i will repeat the gesture...he knows it's from me and however small it makes him smile...we are literally talking maybe three or four times...but boy does he talk about it...
"remember that time you left (insert whatever it was here) under my pillow?" it gets brought up more than you know...
it had been some time since the last under the pillow surprise and judging from the tears in the bathroom the time had come again...
i had seen a pencil box with a rain forest theme at the store marked down to 99 cents the week before...i had no idea what possessed me to buy it but i remember thinking at the time "this will come in handy"...it has two pencils, a sharpener, a ruler, and an eraser with all kinds of rain forest animals printed all over...in a handy box...
about a year ago i found a blank journal called "a hobbit's journal" at a library book sale for 10 cents...i bought it simply because the duke and the lord of the ring were reading the hobbit at the time...i had no idea what i would do with it...the duke was much too new at penmanship and creative writing for it to be of any use to him, but i thought at the time "the duke will love this, someday"...
well, that "someday" had come and i knew exactly what to do with each...
the pencil box went under the pillow of a little boy new to school who envied his brother's pencil box...and without one of his own was forced to store his one prized football pencil inside his brother's box...and who despite having won the game that night was still having a difficult time getting to bed without tears due to the overwhelmingness of the lateness of the hour...that went under a pillow with bugs and butterflies on it...
the hobbit's journal went under the pillow of a boy, still little, though you wouldn't know it due to the nature of his perceived "bigness", largely due to the existence of his little brother...and as a result of that had to also deal with this perceived "bigness" in the form of his mother's idea that because of his age and birth order he should be able to be more responsible and less "instigating"...and that for now, he cannot possibly understand that she is still making her way as a mama...and that mama has a hard time remembering that he is still a little guy, regardless of when he was born...a boy in that position could certainly use a place to store thoughts that were his and his alone...thoughts that could be freely written...written not as a school exercise, but as an exercise of his own doing...thoughts that were not checked for grammar and not subject to whether or not they were a proper "example" for his little brother...that journal went under a pillow that had charlie brown and lucy and peppermint patty and snoopy and woodstock...
the pillows were turned over and the surprises found...smiles and chattiness abounded...along with an embarrassed and terribly pleased smile from wingman, and a very sincere thank you from the duke...
the trials of the day were forgotten...in their place were smiles and happiness...
it wasn't much, but if i've learned anything i've learned it's the small stuff that we remember most...
i am not a perfect parent...not even remotely close...damn, some days i feel like they'd keep me out if i didn't show actual documented paper proof that i belonged...
and yeah, i recognize that a bad day can't always be bought off with cheap gifts and the slim hope that such will make it all better...
but sometimes, well, sometimes they can...
because it's the thought that counts...really...and more often than not, that's all we have to go on...
x.
Friday, November 05, 2004
a day late, and one blog and 1,500 words short...
my headache is gone...and so is thursday...
which means i have missed a blog and 1,500 words towards my 50,000 word goal...
but, i rejoice in the fact that today is indeed a new day, and is also friday...which doesn't have quite the same impact as it did when i was younger, but gives me a certain thrill nonetheless...
i am now off to put words on a page in what i hope turns out to be a clever, insightful, and prolific manner...
happy friday!
x.
which means i have missed a blog and 1,500 words towards my 50,000 word goal...
but, i rejoice in the fact that today is indeed a new day, and is also friday...which doesn't have quite the same impact as it did when i was younger, but gives me a certain thrill nonetheless...
i am now off to put words on a page in what i hope turns out to be a clever, insightful, and prolific manner...
happy friday!
x.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
not tonight honey, i have a headache...
i've had this godforsaken headache since saturday...
it got pretty bad last night and in my desperation i had the oh so brilliant idea of taking my advil with a glass of wine...that actually did the trick for a bit so i decided to keep the party rollin' and had more wine...
i'm sure y'all can see where this is going...too bad i didn't...
yes folks, as a reward for my genius plan i woke up this morning with my headache firmly intact, a pounding hangover, and four more years of george w. bush...
sigh double sigh...
as it stands this evening,
*the headache remains and is apparently pissed at my efforts to eradicate it and as a result is renewed in its vigor
*the hangover is history after a greasy breakfast and large doses of caffeine
*the political song remains the same in america which means, among countless other horrible things, we'll likely be at war with iran within the year and be subject to four more years of those beastly bush daughters
sigh GREAT.BIG.DOUBLE. sigh...
boy if i didn't have those few years in the early nineties to explain i might just think about running for president one day...apparently anyone can get elected these days...
but, alas, i guess the best i can do is raise my boys right and hope for the best...teach them to look to history before they leap, and that might isn't always right...that true strength and power comes from the soul, not the fist...and that respect is earned, not forced...
for now, i'm off to bed to pull the covers over my head and dream of brighter futures and headache free mornings...
x.
it got pretty bad last night and in my desperation i had the oh so brilliant idea of taking my advil with a glass of wine...that actually did the trick for a bit so i decided to keep the party rollin' and had more wine...
i'm sure y'all can see where this is going...too bad i didn't...
yes folks, as a reward for my genius plan i woke up this morning with my headache firmly intact, a pounding hangover, and four more years of george w. bush...
sigh double sigh...
as it stands this evening,
*the headache remains and is apparently pissed at my efforts to eradicate it and as a result is renewed in its vigor
*the hangover is history after a greasy breakfast and large doses of caffeine
*the political song remains the same in america which means, among countless other horrible things, we'll likely be at war with iran within the year and be subject to four more years of those beastly bush daughters
sigh GREAT.BIG.DOUBLE. sigh...
boy if i didn't have those few years in the early nineties to explain i might just think about running for president one day...apparently anyone can get elected these days...
but, alas, i guess the best i can do is raise my boys right and hope for the best...teach them to look to history before they leap, and that might isn't always right...that true strength and power comes from the soul, not the fist...and that respect is earned, not forced...
for now, i'm off to bed to pull the covers over my head and dream of brighter futures and headache free mornings...
x.
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
november 2, 2004
i certainly do hope y'all voted...you did?...right?
good...i thought so...
(insert appropriate guilt for not doing so here)
x.
good...i thought so...
(insert appropriate guilt for not doing so here)
x.
Monday, November 01, 2004
1919 down, 48,081 to go!
so i started my novel adventure today...
made it to 1, 919 words and found a good stopping place...and how exactly does a writer determine a good stopping place?...well, it's different for every writer but for me it comes down to mathematics...
2 boybarians + 12 rolls of paper towels = good stopping place
oh, and here's the link to check my progress should one be compelled to do so...
www.nanowrimo.org/userinfo.php?uid=57690
halloween was good...boys were cute...loot was plentiful...cracked out on sugar attitudes abound...
x.
made it to 1, 919 words and found a good stopping place...and how exactly does a writer determine a good stopping place?...well, it's different for every writer but for me it comes down to mathematics...
2 boybarians + 12 rolls of paper towels = good stopping place
oh, and here's the link to check my progress should one be compelled to do so...
www.nanowrimo.org/userinfo.php?uid=57690
halloween was good...boys were cute...loot was plentiful...cracked out on sugar attitudes abound...
x.
Friday, October 29, 2004
my son is bea arthur...
so every week the duke gets to choose a dessert for us to make together...he pages through our cookbooks for recipes and ideas and then chooses something...
and boy does he...the boy cannot choose a *normal* dessert!...no cookies, no brownies, well, once a cake but that's it...no, he chooses the fussiest desserts out there!...
one week it was candied nuts...candied nuts...what is he, 80?...another week it was lemon chiffon pie, another week it was chocolate truffles with a cocoa powder dusting...this week it's fruit mousse with gelatin...
it's true...he is an eighty year old woman trapped in a seven year old boys body...
and, he wants to use peaches...which i'm sure are no less than fifty dollars a pound...and the recipe calls for cassis...cassis!...too bad the eighty year old woman trapped in his body didn't think to bring her pension along for expenses...
i'ma bet i'll be *sampling* that cassis before the morning is out...
today is also the official get all halloween costumes finished day...i am finishing the duke's "gryffindor quidditch player" cloak (from harry potter for those of you who are reading this from under a rock) and putting ears, spots, and a tail on wingman's "blue" costume (from blue's clues)...
it could be worse...next year they want to go as wallace and gromit...or, the duke wants to be a town crier with a bell...
"and i'll ring it and ring it and ring it and shout that important people are coming and everyone should get out of the way"
that oughta be really really annoying...and what exactly does a town crier wear?...i liked it better when he wanted to be an ancient desert nomad last year...sure, he wanted to wear a loin cloth but at least i know what they look like!...
and then he said maybe he'd like to be a ghost next year...yeah, sure, they always tease you with that one...i'd like to see the kid who actually follows through with that!...how easy...i got a sheet...i got some scissors, it's go time kid...none of this weeks long costume making deal...snip snip...yeah, i'd like to see that...but i doubt i will...
i will also be attempting to enjoy my last few days of freedom before november 1st...too bad my novel ideas aren't political in nature, i'd sure have no problem coming up with material then...as it is, i have terrible terrible awful horrible sappy smarmy ideas for this novel crowding my head...i can't wait!...
so have a great halloween weekend...and be sure to watch out for ghouls, goblins, and crap peddling politicians...
x.
and boy does he...the boy cannot choose a *normal* dessert!...no cookies, no brownies, well, once a cake but that's it...no, he chooses the fussiest desserts out there!...
one week it was candied nuts...candied nuts...what is he, 80?...another week it was lemon chiffon pie, another week it was chocolate truffles with a cocoa powder dusting...this week it's fruit mousse with gelatin...
it's true...he is an eighty year old woman trapped in a seven year old boys body...
and, he wants to use peaches...which i'm sure are no less than fifty dollars a pound...and the recipe calls for cassis...cassis!...too bad the eighty year old woman trapped in his body didn't think to bring her pension along for expenses...
i'ma bet i'll be *sampling* that cassis before the morning is out...
today is also the official get all halloween costumes finished day...i am finishing the duke's "gryffindor quidditch player" cloak (from harry potter for those of you who are reading this from under a rock) and putting ears, spots, and a tail on wingman's "blue" costume (from blue's clues)...
it could be worse...next year they want to go as wallace and gromit...or, the duke wants to be a town crier with a bell...
"and i'll ring it and ring it and ring it and shout that important people are coming and everyone should get out of the way"
that oughta be really really annoying...and what exactly does a town crier wear?...i liked it better when he wanted to be an ancient desert nomad last year...sure, he wanted to wear a loin cloth but at least i know what they look like!...
and then he said maybe he'd like to be a ghost next year...yeah, sure, they always tease you with that one...i'd like to see the kid who actually follows through with that!...how easy...i got a sheet...i got some scissors, it's go time kid...none of this weeks long costume making deal...snip snip...yeah, i'd like to see that...but i doubt i will...
i will also be attempting to enjoy my last few days of freedom before november 1st...too bad my novel ideas aren't political in nature, i'd sure have no problem coming up with material then...as it is, i have terrible terrible awful horrible sappy smarmy ideas for this novel crowding my head...i can't wait!...
so have a great halloween weekend...and be sure to watch out for ghouls, goblins, and crap peddling politicians...
x.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
it's a bird! it's a plane! it's, uh, NaNoWriMo???
november is national novel writing month...november 1 to midnight november 30...
the challenge of NaNoWriMo is to write a novel in thirty days...how novel...
50,000 words...that's roughly 1,500 words a day...
how novel, indeed...and i am just crazy enough to be very excited about this so i joined...
(insert primal scream here)
anyhow, you register with the organization and get a profile and keep a daily word count and the like...
when i get up and running i'll give you the link...you can check my progress...
but i imagine the less you see me here, the more words i will amass towards my end goal...i will be looking to cannibalize words wherever i can find them...
i know what you're thinking...you're thinking if she can't even check in here and throw us a few words on crazy days how is she gonna be able to write enough to get to 50,000 words in thirty days?...well, you know, i don't know how either!...isn't that funny!...HA!
seriously, i will have to be stealthy about this...or just insane...really, it's just a matter of less sleep, more coffee...sounds simple yet horrifying...the best plans always are...
damn, i sure picked the wrong time to get over my insomnia!
and don't y'all worry...when i write as an actual grownup i do employ the use of capital letters...i rejoice in punctuation!...i banish ellipses to the "well don't you think yourself clever" box at the back of my closet that also holds the red heels i wore for my midwifery school graduation and a book of unfortunate poetry i thankfully have not ever unleashed on the general public...
wish me luck and pass the cream...
x.
the challenge of NaNoWriMo is to write a novel in thirty days...how novel...
50,000 words...that's roughly 1,500 words a day...
how novel, indeed...and i am just crazy enough to be very excited about this so i joined...
(insert primal scream here)
anyhow, you register with the organization and get a profile and keep a daily word count and the like...
when i get up and running i'll give you the link...you can check my progress...
but i imagine the less you see me here, the more words i will amass towards my end goal...i will be looking to cannibalize words wherever i can find them...
i know what you're thinking...you're thinking if she can't even check in here and throw us a few words on crazy days how is she gonna be able to write enough to get to 50,000 words in thirty days?...well, you know, i don't know how either!...isn't that funny!...HA!
seriously, i will have to be stealthy about this...or just insane...really, it's just a matter of less sleep, more coffee...sounds simple yet horrifying...the best plans always are...
damn, i sure picked the wrong time to get over my insomnia!
and don't y'all worry...when i write as an actual grownup i do employ the use of capital letters...i rejoice in punctuation!...i banish ellipses to the "well don't you think yourself clever" box at the back of my closet that also holds the red heels i wore for my midwifery school graduation and a book of unfortunate poetry i thankfully have not ever unleashed on the general public...
wish me luck and pass the cream...
x.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
something is rotten in the state of denmark...
school has been a bit challenging of late...well, not school so much as school mixed with wingman...
do you know what it is like to try and describe how to find multiple equivalent fractions while a three foot tall person circles the table in a bicycle helmet humming the theme to wallace and gromit at the top of his voice?
you don't?...well, let me tell you, it's crazy making...virtually guarantees a room at psycho-lodge...
oh, and trying to explain the intricacies of hamlet while the same three foot tall person shouts every five minutes I HAT TO DOUGH POOP!!! I HAT TO DOUGH POOP!!! TUM WIT ME MAMA!!!...then you all rush to the bathroom and as you are lifting him up on the toilet you are finishing your explanation to the duke of the role rosencrantz and guildenstern play and all while the three foot wonder sits on the toilet and says over and over
loot (look), i'm hatsing (hatching)...i ah buhrd (bird)
you don't?...well, let me tell you, it could get you a suite at the psycho-lodge...
i do enjoy homeschooling...it is rewarding and exciting and dare i say, some days it's even fun...but on the days when wingman has done his own school work, used up his allotted t.v. time, and scarfed down his share of snacks, it isn't fun...
it's a race to see who loses it first...the impatient for us to finish wingman, or me who is desperately trying to tie up the last part of the last lesson of the day and convey a completed thought/sentence/idea to the duke...
can you guess who takes a ride on the wacky one sandwich shy of a picnic train?...
anyway, i need to get a handle on it...until then, i fear my posts will be short and on some days non-existent...because by the end of school it's the end of me...and this post i've had floating about in my head about the impermanence of existence and the mixed emotions it brings seems ridiculous when i am just wishing this day would get over already!...
which is just rotten as getting what's inside my head out is a sure fire way to keep me out of the psycho-lodge...or at least level the playing field...
in other news, the duke did really really well at the chess tournament on sunday...he won three out of five, and he and and whatever opponent he was facing were nearly the last to finish each time...which suggested he is a challenging player and really makes his opponent work for the win...
and, win or lose, he ended each round smiling and nonchalant really about the whole thing...he was just happy to be there around so many other boys, both his age and older...just happy to have a day of chess playing...
maybe he'll teach me to play then we'll have something to do when he comes to visit me in the home...
x.
do you know what it is like to try and describe how to find multiple equivalent fractions while a three foot tall person circles the table in a bicycle helmet humming the theme to wallace and gromit at the top of his voice?
you don't?...well, let me tell you, it's crazy making...virtually guarantees a room at psycho-lodge...
oh, and trying to explain the intricacies of hamlet while the same three foot tall person shouts every five minutes I HAT TO DOUGH POOP!!! I HAT TO DOUGH POOP!!! TUM WIT ME MAMA!!!...then you all rush to the bathroom and as you are lifting him up on the toilet you are finishing your explanation to the duke of the role rosencrantz and guildenstern play and all while the three foot wonder sits on the toilet and says over and over
loot (look), i'm hatsing (hatching)...i ah buhrd (bird)
you don't?...well, let me tell you, it could get you a suite at the psycho-lodge...
i do enjoy homeschooling...it is rewarding and exciting and dare i say, some days it's even fun...but on the days when wingman has done his own school work, used up his allotted t.v. time, and scarfed down his share of snacks, it isn't fun...
it's a race to see who loses it first...the impatient for us to finish wingman, or me who is desperately trying to tie up the last part of the last lesson of the day and convey a completed thought/sentence/idea to the duke...
can you guess who takes a ride on the wacky one sandwich shy of a picnic train?...
anyway, i need to get a handle on it...until then, i fear my posts will be short and on some days non-existent...because by the end of school it's the end of me...and this post i've had floating about in my head about the impermanence of existence and the mixed emotions it brings seems ridiculous when i am just wishing this day would get over already!...
which is just rotten as getting what's inside my head out is a sure fire way to keep me out of the psycho-lodge...or at least level the playing field...
in other news, the duke did really really well at the chess tournament on sunday...he won three out of five, and he and and whatever opponent he was facing were nearly the last to finish each time...which suggested he is a challenging player and really makes his opponent work for the win...
and, win or lose, he ended each round smiling and nonchalant really about the whole thing...he was just happy to be there around so many other boys, both his age and older...just happy to have a day of chess playing...
maybe he'll teach me to play then we'll have something to do when he comes to visit me in the home...
x.
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