And I wonder why I always feel so scattered

I like to call myself a dabbler, but I have a feeling that my real issue is a lack of focus and an inability to see a non-work related project through to the end. Here are the various projects in progress at my house right now.

Gym bag and A's snack bag, leftover from Friday, not yet emptied.

A file box that needs book fair and PTA materials in it. A pile of 4T clothes to ship to London.

The book fair and PTA files that need to go into that empty file box. The nice neat file system next to that? My "work" files. I.E. the stuff that would pay the bills, if only I was actually being paid to write these days instead of doing it for free.

Burnt lasagna. Not salvageable. Now I need to come up with dinner plan B (pizza for the kids, sushi for Chichimama and M. See, there is a silver lining...).
Computer (out of juice) and cold cup of tea. Soon to be replaced by a glass of wine. At least the wine still tastes OK at room temperature. And now you know where I blog from since my kids have discovered that the laptop does indeed play Noggin and PBS games. Note the magazine title in the background. Ha! Ha ha!
Templates to try and figure out how to furnish the odd little room off the kitchen (currently known as the train room). This clearly doesn't work. Any designers out there who feel like taking on a project? I'm totally serious here.
Tupperware bins of outgrown clothes to go up the attic. In the background, my "desk" that I am supposed to be using instead of the dining room table above. Ahem. Moving on..
Tupperware bin of clothes to Ebay. Several 0-6 month outfits of A's are in there. She is 3 and a half...
Clothes to go to Goodwill. On the guest bed that needs to get cleaned off before the arrival of Nana next month.
Tupperware from the attic that needs to get sorted through and put into A's drawers. Sitting on top of the chenille rug that is so gross that I hate sending A to her room to play.
Laundry to be put away. In the background, the dry clean only dust magnet drapes. Soon to be replaced by something machine washable. Sigh.
Sheets to go onto bed once laundry has been put away.
Clothes to be washed, once the sheets in the laundry basket have been put on the bed.
Drying rack to be put together. My last Target purchase for a month. Oooh. Ahhh.
Sweaters to be washed once the drying rack has been put together. Note the wall paper, which is high on my list of things to get rid of, if only I could get on top of all the other stuff...
I didn't even bother to take a picture of the knitting project that will never end, the ironing pile in the basement, and the playroom which is in desperate need of a de-cluttering. And the yard? I shudder to think of the state of our back yard. It is in such need of a pruning and weeding that I am tempted to rip it all out and start over again. I need help folks.

A proclamation

After tomorrow, I am going to avoid Target for an entire month (M is doing a serious happy dance right now). I can't start until Sunday because tomorrow I have to go exchange some PJ's that don't fit the kids and pick up a new cup and toothbrush holder for the bathroom to replace the gross moldy ones that wouldn't come clean no matter how hard I scrubbed. But starting Sunday, no Target. The kids have enough clothes, I can get the cat food and litter from the grocery, and Target is just. too. fraught. with opportunities to spend on things we don't need.

Wish me luck...

It is going to be a long, long day

It is 8:15 in the morning and both children are already in time out. Now that everyone is (sort of) used to going their separate ways in the mornings, the togetherness of the next few days may do us all in...

Please send chocolate. And Doritos.

The great deabate

Every year around this time, I begin debating winter outerwear for the kids. In August I start haunting Ebay for deals. Generally I can find something for at least one of the kids, last year I lucked out and landed a coat for C for $12. This year I am not having much luck. And getting nervous because a few years ago I got really stuck for C as when I couldn't find one on Ebay and finally decided to buy full price, everyplace was totally sold out. I can't even remember what I ended up doing. I think I bought a size up and he swam for a year...

A generally gets hand-me-downs from Julia, but this is the year that Rebecca also bought a size up for Julia and that coat is now in London and not all that useful to me. And while C's coat from last year still fits, it was a light yellow, and used, and stained a little when I bought it for $12, and now it is just so gross that I can't in good conscience let him wear it, especially when I only spent $12 on it.

I've been haunting Ebay, and everything is going for so close to retail that there seems no point. But to pay retail for a winter coat and snow pants is just EXPENSIVE. I know that it is something they will wear every day and end up being inexpensive per wear, but STILL. And I just can't bring myself to believe that the Old Navy coats as as warm as the LL Bean or Lands End ones. Additionally, the New Englander in me insists that the winter coat is a VERY IMPORTANT item, as one never knows when one might get snowed upon and be forced to play outdoors in snow banks for hours on end.

Where do you get your kids winter coats (for those of you who have to worry about such things!) Would you continue to haunt Ebay, or suck it up and order coats now to make sure you could get the right size (and, of course color combination as C MUST have a coat with orange on it...)? Inquiring minds want to know...

Six Years

Six years ago at 8:46am I was lying on an exam table looking at the heartbeat of a child who I thought was miscarrying instead of having breakfast with a colleague at the World Trade Center. Today at 8:46am I was dragging that same child down the street, racing to make it on time to school.

May those who lost their lives rest in peace, and may their families and friends find peace as well.

Bullets of Books

• The Scholastic book flyers sent home by elementary schools are dangerous things. I'm just saying.
• I am really hoping there is a lot of repetition from month to month, or else M might have to put me on a book budget again.
• But how can one turn down The Best Book of Space Ships and The Best Book of Weather bundle pack? Or the Let's Read and Find Out science pack. C did a little jig in the kitchen when I showed him what I had ordered. I may have even gotten a hug and a kiss too.
  
• I actually heard a woman in the drop off line last week complaining about the request that parents read with their children 15 minutes a day. She called it "Painful" and "mind-numbing."
  
• I am mind boggled that there are people out there who don't read at least 15 minutes a day with their kids.
• I mean, I know they exist, but I really didn't think that I actually KNEW and LIKED someone who didn't read with their kids.
• I start trying to find other activities around the one or two hour mark, and that's only if we've been reading the same. two. books. over and over again.
• Although with all the reading I have been doing with the kids, I haven't picked up a book of my own since we got back from Maine.
• It doesn't help that the library is closed for the forseeable future for renovations.
  
• Storytime at the book store is almost as dangerous as the Scholastic flyers.
• Although at least I can't justify my spending by the "your child's classroom will earn free books!" line. I wonder just how many books I have to buy for the classroom to get one book...
• Have you read any good books lately? Nothing too heavy or long. A good read a chapter or two while waiting in the preschool parking lot type of book.
• Did I mention I was running the fall book fair at A's school this year? M will be horrified, the last time I ran the book fair I spent a good part of the month's budget on books.
• How can someone not love books?
  

The things memories are made of

Yesterday Lovely Friend's daughter turned three, and they threw a joint birthday party/end of sumer bash in their backyard. C and A were beyond excited, and spent all afternoon hanging around the front door asking if it was time to go yet. We finally departed and were, of course, the first to arrive.

Lovely Friend, who is much more creative than I, had set up 12 "carnival" stations around the yard. There was fishing in the kiddie pool, bobbing for apples, a bean bag toss, and my personal favorite, pin the tail on the Nemo. If only she had told me that Nemo was the theme ahead of time, I still have a closet full of Nemo party supplies from C's third birthday that I would have been happy to donate to the cause...

The kids raced through the games and I thought "Here we go, it is 4:45 and they are done with the entertainment. THIS will be a fun evening." But the they happily played the games over and over again. And when the fishing pole finally broke, and the last of the bean bags ended up over the neighbors fence the kids began to play elaborate games on Lovely Friend's new swing set.

As I stood there and watched C pushing A and his best friend M on the glider with everyone giggling, and then A chasing Lovely Friend's older daughter down the slide, and then C organizing a game of pin the fish on the mommy, I was struck by how these are the things the kids will remember some day. C may have a hard time remembering his kindergarten teacher's name (I know I don't have a blessed clue who mine was) but I will bet that he will always remember the carnival in Lovely Friend's backyard.

All about the memes this week

As seen at Meg's...

Take the Quiz here!

The one in which I throw up my hands and give up

M has had horrific allergies since about the time we got married and started living together. Which was also right about the time that Dumb Cat and Lazy Cat moved in. And horrific allergies means not just snuffling and sneezing but actual ending up at urgent care or the hospital several times a year because his chest is so congested he can't take a deep breath and he physically can't stand up without falling over.

About four years ago I finally made him mention the situation to his doctor who promptly announced that it had to be the cats and to get rid of them. M refused to part with his adored Lazy Cat (Dumb Cat he would have sent off in a heartbeat I believe) so the doctor put him on some allergy meds, which helped greatly but if he forgets to take a dose he ends up ill again.

After the last round of driving my husband to the now not so conveniently located urgent care center at 6am in the morning, I finally put my foot down and insisted that he make an appointment with A's very nice allergist so we could find out what exactly it was he was allergic to. Because enough is enough, and while I don't know that I could get rid of the cats if M was indeed allergic, I could at least ban them from M's office and our bedroom in hopes that it helped somewhat.

So yesterday, M headed in and got jabbed several times to try and discover the reason for his suffering. Upon hearing his story the allergist was also convinced it was the cats but tested for all the common household allergens just to be safe (all while informing M that his current drug regimen was all wrong given his heart issues, how lovely!)

After his appointment M called me and announced "The good news is, the cats can stay. The bad news is, I'm allergic to dust. Highly allergic to dust. Allergic to the point my arm swelled up." Of course my first reaction was, "Huh. A swells up, perhaps she too is highly allergic to dust. We didn't test that one." And my second reaction was "Oh GOD. He's allergic to dust and I am the world's worst housekeeper." And my third reaction was "Of course! He moved from his parent's home which is always spotless to my, um, less than spotless home, and that's when the allergies really kicked in! FABULOUS!"

So first I rejoiced in the fact that the cats could stay and then I suggested that perhaps his parents would love to buy one of the new condos in town and he could move back in with them and I could bring the kiddos over to visit daily. But now I think I probably have to get serious about replacing the ten year old cheap-o vacuum that has never really worked well, and the 20 year old down pillows that I sure would make the allergist shudder. And, according to the internets, the lovely sheepskin rugs we got for our wedding from my mom are right. out. As are the lovely floor length drapes that came with the house and I have always coveted (just not, perhaps, in the current color). And M's favorite smother yourself in warmth down comforter that I am sure is just a breeding ground for dust mites...

I think it would have been easier to keep the cats out of the bedroom.

Tres Cool

As seen at Barbara's. Who was also nice enough to help me out with the code!



Please click through and help me refine my Daemon!

Mac Truck

I feel like a mac truck ran over me sometime around 11am. And it is only 1:30 in the afternoon. Round up of the first day to follow, perhaps after the kids go to bed, or perhaps once my head stops spinning from the frantic effort of trying to ramp up to a normal schedule after a summer of doing nothing.

I'll get used to this, right? RIGHT?

Apple, Smapple

So when C arrived at his new elementary school for orientation last spring, they gave him an apple with his name on it. To wear the first day of school. You already see where this is going, don't you. Right. To make a long story short, the apple, it is gone. And apparently, not only was I supposed to keep track of that apple for the summer, I was supposed to keep track of it for 12 FRICKING YEARS. Because C is supposed to wear it when he graduates from high school.

After a frantic phone call to Lovely Friend, who assured me that yes, the apple was VERY important, and then no, she was fairly confident that I was not the only parent who had lost the apple over the summer, I actually checked the back to school list sent out last week when we finally got C's class assignment (mornings, at the school .51 miles from our house instead of the one 2+ miles, yeah!). On that list, a recent picture of your child.

You would think that would be an easy one, wouldn't you. But, yet, to finish off my day of no apple, I was unable to locate my camera, and the last pictures I had of my kids that were actually downloaded onto the computer were from last December. When C had a buzz cut and A still had bangs. So I did what any self-respecting 35 year old does when faced with a crisis, I called my parents.

"Grandpa S! You're home! Thank GOD! I need you to email me a current picture of the kids!"

"Umm, OK, why?"

"Because! I can't find my camera, and I need to have a picture by tomorrow and I already don't have the damn apple and I don't want to be THAT parent."

"You don't have the apple?"

"It's a long story, I just need pictures. Any pictures, I don't care."

And God bless my step-father, 20 minutes later pictures of my children arrived. But what I really want to know is, how many other 35 year olds had to call their parents the night before school started in order to complete the back-to-school assignments for their kindergarteners? I'm guessing not many.

I'm such an organizational disaster. And I so totally have to get on the apple making committee next year so I can make multiple copies of the apple. Because while I am not the most organized parent, I know how to work the system. And clearly the system calls for multiple copies of red wooden apples stashed all over the house for the next 12 years...

End of the summer confessions

• The first day of school cannot come soon enough.
• And I am not at all sorry that the pool is closing tomorrow so I can place the pool paraphernalia into storage for the winter.
• Although I do miss Maine. I wish there was a way to spend the whole summer there.
• And I'm not just saying that because the kids were in camp there for two hours a day, every day.
• I'm sick of cooking. And cleaning. I think five and a half years into the gig, I may be done being a housewife.
• Unfortunately, it's not like I can just start checking the help wanteds and move on to a better job.
• Did the use of the words "help wanteds" just date me? I have a feeling that the fact that I found my last paid job through the New York Times print edition does not bode well for my future employability.
• But, I suppose that in three (or is it four?) years, when both children are actually at the same school for the same number of hours, being a housewife might become more appealing. Maybe.
• I am seriously regretting not sending my children to the church preschool/kindergarten where they would both be otherwise occupied in the same location at the same time.
• I am dreading the five-plus trips a day to and from my house to get the children to their respective schools. It will really suck when it rains.
  
• I know Rebecca is screaming "Cry me a river!" at the computer screen right now. And I do admit, when it rains we will so totally be driving that .51 miles to kindergarten.
• But I will think of her for the minute that I will be in the car, I swear.
• The first day of school cannot come soon enough...
  

Add in a little Apocalypse Anxiety...

...and Chichimama is good to go. Yes, the winter is approaching and that means the fear of a flu pandemic, or even a good old fashioned blizzard, is leading me to rebuild my depleted food stores. Apparently, Amazon figured out that I was stocking for the apocalypse based on my bulk purchases (have you TRIED Amazon grocery? It's fabulous!) and suggested this book to me. I'm tempted, sorely tempted, as we found out last year that I don't in fact have much in my food stores with which I could actually cook a meal...

Back to School Anxiety

While C has yet to voice a single fear or show any sign of being intimidated by starting kindergarten next week, I have had nightmares every night this week. Clearly, I am not quite ready for this transition to "real school."

Last night I dreamed about C missing the holiday concert, about C forgetting his homework, and about me forgetting to pick C up after school was over. The night before, I spent hours trapped in a dream listening to the kindergarten teacher instructing me on everything I had done wrong in my parenting career to date. The night before that? C went to school in his pajamas. At least he was, well, clothed.

C doesn't have a care in the world. He thinks school is great. He spent an hour on the phone yesterday with Nana, chatting on and on about his backpack, his school supplies, and how excited he was to bring his own snack and make new friends. And I sat there panicked that his backpack was too big (or, perhaps it is too small), that I hadn't found the right black marble composition notebook, and that C wouldn't make any friends.

Next week can't come soon enough, if only for my own anxiety levels.

A Retraction

Do you remember that post I wrote at the beginning of the summer about over-programmed children? Ahem. Yeah. About that. It seems that in an effort to spare us the disaster that was our under-programmed summer, I might have gone JUST A TINY bit overboard in the scheduling department this fall.

C has kindergarten every morning, and then is doing an extended day program back at his preschool two afternoons a week to try and get him ready for the rather shocking ramp up to a full day first grade. A has preschool three afternoons a week (two of which overlap with C's long days). Then the kids are doing swimming (because I still insist that everyone must swim, well, as early as possible), gymnastics, and tennis. At least tennis will be over by mid-October. Then A is ALSO taking ballet one morning, and C is begging to do an indoor t-ball league on Saturdays. Can you say "What the frick were you thinking?" all together? I am going to be THAT mom that I complained about in May. Seriously.

In my defense, the kids love each and every activity that they are doing. Well, except maybe for ballet because A has never tried it before, but she is in love with the IDEA of ballet and spends hours a day PLAYING ballet. Quite honestly, it is my fervent hope that eight weeks into ballet she decides that she hates it and we can move on. But still. I have a feeling that come November I might be reconsidering my stance on the necessity of swim lessons...

Weekend Roundup

• C learned to ride without training wheels. Which is fabulous, except for the fact that in order to stay up he has to ride so quickly that I can't keep up while pushing A in the stroller or, even worse, helping A on her trike. Thankfully, bike season is almost over, and by next spring we should be able to put A on a bike with training wheels and start the whole process over again.
• We had a lovely indoor BBQ last night, because it was just. too. hot. to be outdoors. And it was lovely, but stressful. As I said to M about an hour before the family arrived, I love this family. They are lovely, lovely people. But their house is always "just so." And no matter how I try, my house is never "just so." So while I love to spend time with them, I don't generally care to do so in our house...
• On the upside, she helped us figure out how to furnish the train room once the trains are no longer a daily, or even weekly activity. Which will probably be sooner rather than later because the world of legos has just been discovered.
• I spent my weekend swearing under my breath because I had stepped on yet another lego that had somehow missed the lego bucket.
• I also spent much of my weekend stocking the deep freeze for winter. Because what else should one do besides cook when it is pushing 100 degrees?
• As a result, however, we now have tomato sauce, eggplant parm, and lasagna just waiting for that first fall day. Yumm.
• Remind me to call the chimney sweep and firewood guy now that we finally have a wood burning fireplace.
• And the furnace guy. Because if I start thinking about it now, I just might manage to call him before I am forced to turn the heat on in late October.
• Can you tell I am ready for fall???

I have still not recovered

Elsewhere had a fabulous post a few days ago about the packing and moving experience. And as I read it I was instantly transported back to my life a year ago when we owned two homes and were slowly, very, very slowly, moving box by random box from one home to the other.

I think I am still shell shocked from the whole experience. Really. I actually spent a good hour today, before reading that post, reliving the whole experience while staring out at the backyard. Rebecca had always reminded me that it takes me almost exactly a year to adjust to any major change in my life, and we are coming up on that year mark fairly soon. And, true to form, this house is almost feeling, well, like home. So hopefully, come October, I should be back to my normal, verging on neurotic self instead of the full-fledged neurotic self I currently still am.

One can hope anyway...

Overheard from the Couch

Chichimama: "This is amazing! We can all fly to see your parents for Thanksgiving for under $700! I'm totally booking this!"

M: "Ummhmm. Great."

Chichimama: "OK! We're booked!"

M: "Ummhmmm. Great."

Chichimama trots over to the calendar to write the information down, trying to be the highly organized individual she just KNOWS exists inside of her.

Chichimama: "Crap. No wonder it was so cheap. I booked the tickets for the wrong week."

M: "Somehow, I'm not suprised."

Chichimama: "Hush."

Thankfully, I was able to quickly cancel and rebook the tickets for the correct week, at a much higher fare, of course. Highly organized individual, where ARE you????

Still procrastinating here....

But look! Childrens' fear of new food is genetic! I feel so much better about the fact that my children refuse to try new things (and shh, don't try to point out that it is protein that they shun, not fruits and vegetables. It's genetic, I tell you!).

Overheard from the bedroom

C: "I'm TRYING to pick up, but every time I try I find something interesting and I just HAVE to play with it."

Chichimama: "I understand your pain C, I really do. But come bedtime, you are going to be VERY sorry if at least SOME of these interesting things haven't found a home other than the middle of the floor, I'm just saying."

------------------------------

And while C is procrastinating by playing, I have found myself procrastinating by trolling through the No Impact Man's archives. I'm in serious awe. M will be horrified, and come home concerned about just how green I plan on going. But if you haven't read his blog yet, go check it out. It is truly remarkable.

Yawn

The downside to coming home (besides the traffic)? All the crap that needs to get done. The house is a wreck, the laundry is stacked up, and of course it is going to rain for the foreseeable future here, so I can't even send the kids to play while I scrub. Plus we need to tackle the back to school shopping. Given the rain, we might even head to the mall (shudder). But at least they now have Starbucks there...

I'll be back in a bit, once I can see the floor again.

Menu - Week of 8/18

*Edited to add link to Raspberry Chipolte Sauce. Or, you can cheat and buy this.

We are back. Don't even ask about the traffic. Just don't. I think I have some sort of post-traumatic stress syndrome as a result of being trapped in a car, alone, with two children in stop and go traffic. Think eight plus hours of "But why?" and "What is that?" Shudder.

Anyway, thanks to our CSA and Lovely Friend, who picked up our vegetables for us this week AND cleaned up the cat puke she discovered all over the house when depositing said veggies in the fridge, I have more vegetables than I know what to do with. Which is a very good thing. And without further ado, here is this week's menu. Only through Thursday because that is when the new set of veggies arrive.

Saturday - Raspberry-Chipotle Marinated Grilled Chicken, corn on the cob and salad

Sunday - Feta Stuffed Lamb Burgers, veggie kabobs, roasted rosemary potatoes

Monday - Gazpacho

Tuesday - Penne with Eggplant, Sausage and Feta, salad

Wednesday - Sauteed Striped Bass with Summer Vegetables

Still left to deal with, the heirloom beans. Do y'all think I can freeze them?

How time flies when you're huddling on the beach

Today is the first really warm day here, so of course that means that we will be departing tomorrow. And yet, despite the cold, my children still look like I didn't go through five tubes of sun block this vacation. But on the upside, next week we will hopefully resume some semblance of a regular schedule again and that will be a good thing.

I am not the only one who is looking forward to my own bed, as lovely as it has been to spend so much time with my family. Yesterday C created a presentation (almost complete with powerpoint) entitled "Why I miss home." He announced he had three points to make and then went on to very clearly identify, elaborate upon, and sum up all three points ("In summary, I miss my stuffed animals, I miss my bed, and I can't wait to be alone in my room.").

Think of me, alone, with two children, shelpping down the eastern seaboard tomorrow. And if you see a woman on the side of the road refusing to drive any further until the whining stops, feel free to wave a hello and donate any chocolate you might have in the car to my cause. Thank you.

Packing List

A note to self for the next trip to Maine, based on the last two (or three) trips...

1) Bring a rain coat for you, not just the kids.

2) Bring a sweatshirt (or two) for you, not just the kids.

3) Bring more than one pair of long pants. Preferably the soft brown sweatpants.

4) Remember the kid's tennis rackets. It is hard for them to take tennis lessons without one (although the Target rackets are nice and inexpensive).

5) The brown flip flops are not so comfortable for long walks, no matter how cute they are. Bring the Merrills for shleping kids to and from camp and tennis.

6) Bring at least three more tubes of sunblock than you think you need. Even if it is raining.

7) Bug spray. Bug spray. Bug spray.

8) Cortisone. Cortisone. Cortisone.

9) See number 2. And then if you decided that it is August and of COURSE it will be warm, remember that if you are wrong, all beach town sweatshirts are so outrageously overpriced that you decide to shiver instead of shelling out for one.

10) REMEMBER YOUR PILLOWS!!!!!

Ahh, Rain

I know I shouldn't be complaining. Really. But we are on Day 4 of our "beach vacation" and I have actually seen the beach for a whopping 20 minutes while huddled in a sweatshirt and begging C to just dig a new subway system under the beach another day.

But today my little sister and I (and her nurseling Baby C2) are off to the outlets. Along with Hillary and her entourage, apparently. Do we have good timing or what?

High speed is in the house, but my Mac has chosen to be a picky networker, so I personally still have no access. But hopefully we will eventually overcome the spinning pizza of death, if only so I can register the kids for fall swimming lessons. I'll hopefully be back at some point. With a virtual lobster for y'all.

There is nothing like packing

There is nothing like packing up a household for a two-plus week trip to make one realize all the things one needs to do more regularly. Things like cleaning out the fridge and medicine cabinet. As I was digging through the (high, locked) closet where I stash the medicine to collect the "if I don't bring this stuff someone will develop a fever of 104 on the Mass Pike" kit, I realized that I hadn't cleaned out the cabinet since our last trip to Maine as everything started expiring in September 2006.

By the time I had made my pile of expired medicines that have never even been opened, I had nothing left except three bottles of Children's Benadryl. Which is a good thing as the allergist's receptionist and I have been having quite a go-round about calling in a Zyrtec prescription for A, as she is somewhat insistent that one doesn't give Zyrtec for urinary tract infections. And while she is indeed correct on that point, the one she doesn't get is that I am fairly certain that A's chart reads "urticaria," not "urinary." As of yesterday she had grudgingly agreed to check with him and see if he was indeed willing to prescribe us more of the medicine that he had clearly already given us as it was in her chart, complete with dosing instructions. We'll see. But if not, I have enough Benadryl to dose the whole family if needed, albiet every six hours instead of once a day...

Anyway, once I realized that I was doomed to a child running a high fever during the vacation, we moved onto the fridge. And I was right, there were a few things growing in there. And by the time I had composted or otherwise disposed of everything in there that had expired or was going to expire by the time we returned I was left with two bricks of tofu, one container of hummus, and a thing of mango-chutney. Yummm. We'll eat well upon our return.

Which leads me to my latest proclamation, starting right after vacation I am going back to menu planning. M's travel schedule be damned. And I am menu planning for the kids too, because like the bad parent I am, I generally don't serve them what we eat except on Sunday's to avoid the massive battles that occur. Which is another proclamation in the works, but I haven't quite wrapped my head around how to solve that sticky issue, so you'll just have to wait and see how I try to dig myself out of the rather large hole I've dug surrounding the family dinner table (or lack thereof).

So in case you haven't figured it out, we are off to Maine for a while. There is a rumor on the streets that high speed and wireless internet is being installed at Nana's on Tuesday, so you might get live! vacation! blogging! while I sit outside the kids door at night to keep them from waking my sister's kids with their bedtime antics. But if I don't keep to my every other day posting resolution for a few weeks, I have a good excuse...

My fear of bridges is apparently valid

My grandmother was terrified of bridges. She lived in Minneapolis/St. Paul. I inherited her fear of bridges, although unlike her I do manage to drive myself over them, clutching the steering wheel with a death grip and plotting how I will save my children if the bridge (or tunnel) I am traveling on collapses.

A significant portion of my extended family is still in Minneapolis/St. Paul. My thoughts are with them and their neighbors and friends. And I'm not so sure that I will make it over the bridges I need to travel over next week.

Bullets of Sweat

• It's hot. And it is going to get hotter.
• We spent three hours at the pool today. We all looked like prunes by the end of the afternoon.
• The kids have quite a tan going. Despite the fact that I liberally apply 50+ sunblock multiple times a day.
• I am sporting a nice burn on one patch of my back because apparently C is not quite as good a sunblock spreader as he claimed. Ouch.
• Speaking of sunburns, remind me once school starts that I am long overdue for a trip to the dermatologist's...
• And speaking of skin, A's hives are still coming and going. My latest theory is cleaning products, so I'm on the hunt for natural cleaning solutions.
  
• Or, I could just not clean. Now THAT is a tempting solution. No hives AND no scrubbing toilets. Almost a win win except for the fact that it would get gross around here in mere seconds.
• I have managed to keep the house picked up all week though...
• Wait, it's only Tuesday? Never mind. Not quite as impressive an accomplishment.
• How are we going to spend the rest of the hot, hot week? I mean, besides alternating between turning the AC on because it is just.too.hot. and then turning it off because of a panic over what the electric bill will look like at the end of the month...
• Perhaps we will head to the mall for a walk and let the air conditioning bill be on them...
  

The big questions in life

If one has to drive 20 minutes to get to a green dry cleaners, is one really making an environmentally conscious choice? Opinions are seriously desired here....

See Chichi Run

It will amuse those who know me to find out that I, Chichimama have taken up running. Not marathon style running like some I know, but plod along on the treadmill or around the neighborhood at a whopping 5.5 miles an hour for 20 minutes style running. After you get off the floor and stop snickering, you might ask with a rather quizzical look on your face, "WHAT on earth possessed YOU, one of the LEAST athletic people we know, to RUN?" Let me tell you, I'm as perplexed as you.

I've been fairly religious over the past year about getting some form of exercise in at least three days a week, and over the last three or four months it has been closer to five or six days a week. First I walked, then I walked hills. Then I walked hills faster. It got to the point that no matter how I walked, I wasn't feeling like I had exercised. And that made me, well, grumpy. Apparently I have gotten addicted to exercising. (Yep, keep on laughing. Get it out of your system...)

So one day as I was walking along as fast as my short little legs could go, I thought "I bet running would be easier than trying to walk this fast." So I tried it. And I could run! Not far, not long, not fast, but I ran a good ten minutes before my inner thighs called for mercy. I finally felt like I had exercised again. Ever since then, I have been trying to run a little bit longer every other day. Today I got up to 25 minutes. I KNOW! ME! Running for 25 minutes! I didn't even do that in high school when I was on the field hockey team!

This afternoon I even found myself looking for a 5 or 10K to train for, but apparently I have pretty much missed race season in my neck of the woods, and I'm not SO crazy to do one that I'm going to shlep any further than the next town over to complete said race. But still, just the fact that I was considering such a thing makes my head hurt.

One of these days I might even lose the rest of this baby weight I've been lugging around for three years now. Maybe.

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time there was a blogger named Chichimama. This blogger was not a great blogger, but she did manage to write, every once in a blue moon. Then this blogger got lazy, or perhaps a bit depressed, or maybe a bit anxious, or perhaps, just perhaps, a little paranoid about her ability to write and her propensity to whine. And so, slowly, Chichimama the blogger stopped writing.

But Chichimama missed writing. And she missed having a record of her life (even if it was a bit whiny at times). So one day, while her fairy godmother was at the grocery store (a girl can dream, can't she?), Chichimama decided that she would try very, very hard to write, at least every other day. And she wouldn't beat herself up if the writing wasn't perfect, or if it tended to sound a bit whiny. Totally unrelated, she also decided that her husband might be right, and life with the air conditioner actually on was nice, once in a blue moon.

The End.

Overheard in the kitchen

Chichimama and M hover over the fruit fly trap, created courtesy of the pixies over at Phantom's.

M: "Wait! One's headed in! In you go little fly, in you go. YES!"

M pauses, and looks up.

M: "Our life has gotten really, really sad if the highpoint of our week is watching fruit flies die."

Chichimama: "I dunno, LOOK at all the flies in there! This is awesome!"

M: "What have we become???"

(And yes, Phantom, this is why someone was trolling through your archives looking for info on fruit flies yesterday...).

Overheard from the bedroom

C: "MOM!!!! I heard a funny noise! Twice!!!!"

Chichimama: "What did it sound like?"

C: "A pterodactyl!"

Chichimama: "Huh. Are the dinosaurs still living?"

C: "Well, no..."

Chichimama: "Then I bet it was just a bird in the tree outside your window."

C: "THAT is a BORING explanation!"

Chichimama: "So sorry, but it is STILL bedtime."

C: "Humph."

And I'm done

My husband is a good, good man. See the comments for details...

Capital L Loser

I didn't go at midnight to get my Harry Potter book. The thought never even crossed my mind. The nice Fedex man (or UPS man) will deliver it to me today sometime. But now that everyone has their books and is reading them, I feel rather left out. So I am haunting the front hall in hopes that the book arrives before I have to take C to a birthday party. Fat chance, I know. So don't mind me, I'll be very late to your commenting parties. And I now have to put myself in media isolation until I finish it....

Hives, Hives and More Hives

A's hives are back. Gah. I am just blogging about it because the blog has actually served as a pretty good record for the doctor as to when it happens. She seems to be coming down with a cold, lending to the hives when sick theory, but then M left a plate with a peanut butter covered napkin out on his desk yesterday that A discovered before I did, making things a bit murkier.

We have also been around kids eating peanut butter sandwiches all week. I am not one to tell other parents what to do or not do, but the other day I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking if the child who eats everything really had to have a peanut butter sandwich while sitting right next to A. And when I quietly move her to another seat, the parent in question got miffed about the whole thing.

I can't wait until the child turns four and we can do the tests for nuts. And while we are at it, I might have them test C for tree nuts while we are in there as I realized today that he has never had one because of our avoidance of such things with A.

When Discipline Fails

Chichimama: "That's IT! No TV and no computer for the rest of the day!"

C: "THANK YOU Mommy! I didn't want to watch TV today anyway! I wanted to play construction!"

Later in the day:

Chichimama: "That's IT! I'm turning on the timer and if the construction site isn't cleaned up by the time it goes off, there will be no extra books at bedtime!"

C: "THANK YOU Mommy! I'm really tired and I didn't want an extra book tonight anyway!"

Chichimama: (under her breath) "I give up. I really, really do."

What is it about a crisis...

that makes one want to clean? Or, perhaps, it is just me. But regardless, my father-in-law is back in the hospital with a heart attack after having a cancer surgery last week. And as I made the round of phone calls to family and friends, I scrubbed the bathrooms, swept and mopped the kitchen floor, dusted the bedroom lamps, and scrubbed the cabinets. Even though the cleaning service comes tomorrow.

The kids are upset, both because Grampy is back in the hospital (which they can only vaguely understand) and because we were supposed to have a beach day tomorrow and I had to warn them that we may not be able to go. But for them, the promise of a trip to the ice cream store and a sprinkler-fest in the back yard seemed to make things all better. M is in limbo as we are currently still unclear how serious the heart attack was, and what is going to be done about it. Me? I'm eyeing the fridge and wondering what might be growing in there.

What Harry Potter Character are you?

As seen at Ginger's...

What Harry Potter Character are You? Hermione Granger You are a smart and intelligent person. You use your smarts to help out friends. You can be emotional at times but you always seem to be in the mood to help someone out. Click Here to Take This Quiz

Quizzes and Personality Tests

When Bribery Fails

We've been having sleep issues here at Chez J-E. I know, shocker, isn't it? Neither C nor A likes to go to sleep before the sun, and yet they also insist on waking up WITH the sun. Leading to very. tired. children. Controlling their wake up times has never worked well for us, so in an attempt to get them to sleep, or at least stay quietly in their rooms at bedtime, I resorted to bribery. If they stayed in bed for five nights, A got a (very cheap) princess watch and C got a new maze book. If, after the initial toy was given, they had a "bad" night, they new toy went away for a day. The first night C went happily to bed dreaming of hours of mazes, and A screamed her head off because she wanted the watch NOW, not five days from now.

Tonight, C appeared in the family room about 20 minutes after I tucked him in sobbing "I don't want the new maze book. I want things the way they used to be. I like getting out of bed and coming to see you better than I like mazes." What could I do except shrug and admit defeat? And thus ends my experiment with bribery. Clearly, not the technique for us.

Is it wrong...

Is it wrong of me to be doing a happy dance because it is raining and I don't have to shlep C to baseball today? He is distraught, weeping at any given second, but A and I are doing a little (quiet) celebrating of our own.

It should be nice and, well, warm, tomorrow instead of god-awful hot, so we will hopefully be able to get through the stack of errands I have been putting off because it was too hot to walk about and I couldn't bring myself to drive from parking lot to parking lot to accomplish them.

Bullets of Catch Up

• Hello! How are you? I'm, well, yeah. Happy Friday Saturday!
  
• We had a lovely meetup with Kate over the 4th, she is as friendly and wonderful as she sounds on her blog, and A is now obsessed with with her new friend Miss M. And C is very curious as to how I had a friend with kids that he had never met before. How DOES one explain a blogger meetup to children you are trying to teach about stranger danger???
  
• My children were, for once, fairly well behaved for the meetup. Kate is probably cringing thinking "And THAT is what she calls well behaved????" But really! By my standards they were! Despite the fact that C took every last morsel of their bag of pretzels in his not so small paws when me, the unprepared parent, arrived sans snacks. And then he dumped them all back into the bag when I yelled at him. I would say something encouraging here about the state of his health, but I don't want to jinx myself.
  
• In my defense, we spent part of the week on my in-laws boat, so I did not have my usual complement of kid snacks hanging out in the garage to be grabbed on the way out the door.
• But still, I never would have remembered to bring snacks because I was so focused on remembering to bring the directions. I'm just that kind of parent. Sigh.
• I did remember to bring one sippy cup though. But, of course, only one. Double sigh.
  
• About the 4th, we kept the kids up until 9:30 for the fireworks that were actually canceled. Yeah. Still paying the price on that one. Maybe they'll catch up on the sleep by the middle of next week. Maybe.
• I'm 1/4 of the way through the bottom of the Einstein jacket! If I can figure out how to work iPhoto, I might even post a pic of the big square of gray knitting. Because it is just. that. exciting.
• I still love my new Mac, although I'm finding myself muddling through rather than learning all the cool shortcuts there are. And iPhoto is not my friend right now. Although I am sure it is all about me and my preconceived notions...
  
• Which about sums up my life. I muddle through. And my preconceived notions always seem to get in the way.
  
• Did I mention my whole house is decorated in streamers because the kids decided to throw themselves a "HEY! It's a special day party!"? And then I made the mistake of serving them chocolate ice cream in the playroom. The rug will never, ever, be the same.
• Is it September yet? That's what I thought. Gah.
  
• Oh, and speaking of September, I still have no idea when my son is going to kindergarten.
• Or, apparently, where. We have been redistricted twice in the last four months, and according to neighborhood rumors, we may in fact be redistricted yet again. Which would explain why everyone else in town has gotten their kindergarten notifications and we are still swinging in the breeze.
• Private, full-day kindergarten is quite honestly sounding like a pretty good deal right now, price tag and all.
• If the AC, dryer, stove, pipes, and electricity hadn't all broken in the last week, I might even be calling around out of curiosity. But, alas, it appears that I will be putting many other people's children through school.
• I just LOVE homeownership.
• The silver lining? At least we only own one home for things to go wrong in these days...
  

I always knew I was a family blog...

Ah, the fun things one finds online at 2am in the morning. I just love insomnia...

And the quotes keep on coming

A: "Am I a little girl?"

Chichimama: "Yes, you are a little girl."

A: "But sometimes I am a big girl."

Chichimama: "Yes, sometimes you are a big girl, it kind of depends on the circumstances."

A: "Ah (nodding sagely). I am a mixed up girl."

Chichimama falls off her chair laughing.

Even Imaginary Friends need a Vacation

A is moping around dejectedly.

Chichimama: "A, what is wrong?"

A: "I don't have an imaginary friend."

Chichimama: "I'm confused, you had one yesterday."

A: "Well, she is gone now."

Chichimama: "Where did she go?"

A: "On vacation."

C: "I think it is her day off."

A: "NO! She is on VACATION! She went to New York!"

Chichimama: "Well, maybe you could make a new imaginary friend. Then you would have two."

A: "Nah, she's coming back tomorrow."

Chichimama: "Oh, OK. Well, I guess you should play with C then."

C: "Nope, it's MY day off."

Overheard from the Playroom

C: "A, I don't WANT to play Caribou any more. Go play with your imaginary friend."

A: "But she doesn't PLAY it the right way!"

C: "Well, she's YOUR imaginary friend, it is YOUR job to teach her."

A: (Big dramatic sigh) "But I want to be an astronaut, not a teacher!"

Round and Round

A belated knitting updated. Because I know how much y'all care about my anxiety-busting hobby. Thanks to several nights of insomnia, I have finished up a couple projects over the past few weeks.

It's been knitting in the round month over here. First up, M's birthday gift, hand-knit golf club covers. Not a stellar job, and not in the appropriate alma mater colors of blue and orange. But the yarn was priced right and seemed like a manly color. The covers are a little snug when trying to get the covers on the actually club. Lesson learned: always try to model your handiwork, even if it requires shlepping out to the car at 2am in the morning.

Up next, a pair of mittens for an outreach project that Lovely Friend is coordinating at her church. While I don't attend the same church, Lovely Friend is well aware of my inability to say no and my knitting habit, and asked me if I wanted to contribute a pair (or two or three).


"Why Chichimama!" you exclaim. "It looks like one mitten is much fatter than the other!" And indeed, you are correct. I have no idea why. Same yarn, same needles, same pattern, same number of stitches. But yet, there you are. One fat, one skinny. Of course, this means that I feel somewhat obligated to try try again. But first, I'm going to start in again on my Einstein jacket.

Full Circle

I am blogging from my new MacBook. M said he was coming home with a surprise, silly me thought it was a cupcake. And even though we agreed to no anniversary presents, note that I am not racing this one back to the store. I am only feeling a small twinge of guilt that his anniversary present consisted of a pulled pork sandwich with a side of baked beans. From a can.

I've spent the last 45 minutes trying to figure out how to right-click, and am still a little unclear why the computer came with two power cords. Somehow, picking up a new operating system is not nearly as easy as it was a decade ago when I switched from Mac to PC. Thankfully, when I announced out loud that I was old, C patted me on the head and told me that I might be old for a kid, but not for a mommy.

But seriously? I feel really old right now. I'm off to watch some tutorials, because I think that's what the old folk do.

The Ten Comandments of Vacation Bible Camp

1. Thou shalt not touch (or hit, or pinch, or kick) thy neighbor, even if he started it.
2. Thou shall write thy name on all thy art projects or risk receiving someone else's Jesus Bear.
3. Thou shall wait quietly, in line, for thy turn, even if thou feel like practicing thy handstands.
4. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbors' dinners, even if they are slow eaters.
5. Thou shall listen to thy teacher, not thy neighbor.
6. Thou shalt not bring thy own toys to camp and then use them as flying projectiles.
7. Thou shall remember to collect thy confiscated toys at the end of camp.
8. Thou shalt not tell thy parents that thy toys were ripped from thy hands by thy evil teacher for no reason, as thy teacher, who might have let the whole thing slide, will elaborate upon the circumstances for the confiscation.
   
9. Thou shalt not bolt for the nearest exit, even if thy siblings are headed out to the playground.
10. Thou shalt not try to climb on the pulpit.

All Hail M

Who stayed up late and fixed my computer!

Unfortunately, I belatedly remembered that I had neglected to backup my bookmark files. Which contained all of the links to the online knitting patterns I like, including the ones I am in the middle of at the moment. It also contained all the things I was planning to purchase people for major gift-giving holidays over the next year. Gah.

As if my posting could get any less frequent...

My laptop seems to have croaked this evening. It is not an unexpected event as it has been limping along for days, to the point that I even backed up all my files over the weekend. Which, it turns out, was a good thing. M is going to try to salvage it tonight but I have my doubts. Not in him, but in the machine itself. And if my laptop is really kaput, my ability to blog will be even more hampered than it already is. You see, the kids have no idea that "mommy's computer" can actually play PBS kids and Playhouse Disney. So when I sneak a few minutes to read emails or blogs, there is no clamoring for their turn. But if I try to sneak away to the office (where I am now), they immediately start begging.

Sigh. I was really hoping it would die closer to the holidays so I could ask Santa for one of these...

It's hard to be the little one

Friday I took the kids to the library to sign up for the summer reading program. Of course the library is closing in a week for extensive renovations, meaning that our summer reading will now consist of the same books we already have read over and over and over again, but I'm not at all bitter. The end result, so they tell me, will be a more user friendly and comfortable library with WiFi everywhere. And if I will actually be able to take my laptop to the library and sit in a comfortable chair instead of the 70's originals that are in there now, I am all for it.

Anywhoo, there we were at the summer reading program sign up desk and the library page asks my kids "Do you want to sign up for the readers club or the listeners club?" I step in and reply "The listeners club," which causes C to give me a look of pure hatred. "I can READ, Mom, I want to be in the READERS club." OK, I think. If he wants to spend the summer plowing through our early readers over and over again, I'm not going to complain. "Fine C, go ahead. But you know this means you have to read all by yourself and can't count the books I read to you at night." Eye roll and all, "I KNOW Mom. I AM going into kindergarten."

A then pipes in "I'm a reader too!" To which the clearly not so familiar with children page responds "Oh! OK then! We'll sign you up for the readers club!" "But A, you don't even know all your letters!" I quickly respond. "I DO! I can read! I CAN!" And A bursts into tears. The page looks confused and can't quite seem to decide what went wrong where and what to do about it.

Finally, she comes out with "A, if you want to switch to the readers club later in the summer if you learn to read, you can just come back and switch, OK?" A is still bawling. "I AM a reader. I AM." I grab the summer reading materials, promising to fill them out at home and bring them back before the big closing, and carry a bawling A out to the car, dragging an unwilling C behind me.

I bet you can guess how we have spent the last few days. A is bound and determined to learn how to read. She had M drilling her on the alphabet yesterday, and me pointing out every word in every book she loves. "What's that word? And that one? Move your finger Mommy!" This morning when I went into her room, every early reader was piled high on her bed from the night before when she had clearly paged through them all after we had tucked her in.

The girl has determination, you have to give her that. And I won't be at all surprised if I am trying to explain how we can't actually return to the library mid-summer to sign her up for the reading club because the library is closed, despite the cheerful words of the library page.

For the blogliners

As part of my great summer organizational binge, I'm going to be fixing my labels over the next few days as, in case you hadn't noticed, there is very little consistency (case and point, I currently have three different "meme" tags). I have no idea what that will do to bloglines, but if random posts from years ago start showing up, please excuse the mess.

Is it wrong....

...to be debating what I want more, a sewing machine or a stand mixer, if I ever have some extra funds to spend on something? I think perhaps I need to get out more.

But seriously, what do you think? Sewing machine (New curtains! Hemmed pants! Holiday gifts!) or stand mixer (Yummy cookies! Quick bread mixing! Ice cream maker attachment! Did you hear me? ICE CREAM!).

Overheard From the Back Seat

A: "Mommy, I like this song. It that your voice?"

Chichimama: "Uh, no, it is Celine Dion's voice."

A: "Oh, it's pretty. It sounds like your voice..."

I so love that child.

Perspective

Tonight, all I wanted was for the kids to go. to. bed. already. A was freaking out because that is what she does best at bedtime, and C kept popping out of bed to see what A was freaking out about. I finally got them both into bed and silent, and went out to the deck to sip my wine and ponder the weed infested backyard.

As I sat there, sweating slightly, I remembered summer evenings as a kid, lying wide awake in bed wondering how on earth I was expected to fall asleep when the sun was still up. I lived in New England so there was no air conditioning and on the really hot nights I would lie there sweating, alternating between crawling under the rough cotton sheets because I was afraid the spiders would get me if I wasn't covered up, and tossing them off because come on, it was way to hot to be under a sheet, spiders be damned.

A few minutes into my trip down memory lane C appeared in the door and announced "I can't sleep. The sun is up, I am hot under the covers, but then I take them off and I can't sleep because I need the covers to sleep. What am I supposed to do?" And I was instantly transported back to those sleepless summer nights of my childhood. I empathized, internally. I knew what he was feeling. And then I sent him back to bed.

Sometimes it's good to be the parent.

Nothing much of importance

• I've been rather uninspired lately. No interest in writing, cleaning, knitting, reading, laundrying...you get the picture. In fact, I'm not quite sure how I have been filling my days, but clearly I haven't been doing much.

• I suppose I have spent a fair amount of time eying all the projects around the house and garden and getting overwhelmed and annoyed, because we had JUST gotten the old house in great shape, and now we have to start all over again. And since we had to carry the lovely old house for almost a year, we haven't really got the funds to do any of the things I have in mind.
• And you thought you were done hearing about my moving woes...
  
• Although I am almost at the point that I am going to paint the ugly stained wood doors myself, just so I can stop staring at them every night in utter decorating angst.
• In fact, that might be how I spend the weekend, as M is off sailing with his parents.
• Do ya think he would totally flip to come home and find the family room and back hallway totally redone?
• I really think I might.
• What else would I do? It is too cold to go to the pool, and it is Father's Day weekend, so every other family in the world (except for Rebecca's) is spending time with their families.
  
• Perhaps I will somehow sneak the children without passports onto the next BA flight instead.
• Or maybe I'll paint the doors.
• Which will lead to having to paint these doors.
• And this window...

Clean Power

We just switched to clean power through our electric company. If you live in MA, NY, CT, MD, NJ, or RI, you can choose to do the same through this company, Sterling Planet. There are other options out there, this just happens to be the one we chose. The cost is slightly higher, they claim about $10 a month, but in my opinion well worth it. Your electricity delivery will remain exactaly the same, but you will be doing your part to reduce our dependence on oil and reduce CO2 emissions. Check with your electric company and see what your clean power options are.

Deep Thoughts, By C

"Sometimes even tow trucks need a tow."

"Nanas are mommies who let you break the rules, sometimes."

"Kindergarten seems like it will be just like preschool, without the fun."

"Little sisters are fun, until they aren't."

"Chutes and Ladders is a very long game, unless you go up the slides just like on the real playground."

"It is hard to do the voices when you are reading in your head."

"The reason I am always hungry is because you don't give me food like ice cream and donuts. I bet if I ate a lot of ice cream and donuts I would get a tummy ache and then I wouldn't be hungry any more."

"It is hard to treat others the way I want to be treated."

Goals

It is good to have goals. Goals are good. And since I am faced with a summer of nothingless, and a hubby whose season of travel seems to have turned into a year of travel, I figure I need to set myself some goals or nothing will ever get done around here.

• Organize the entry, for the gazillionth time. I feel like I spend my life organizing the entry, so clearly it is not organized well. I am, once again, going to clear out the two storage areas, and then try to figure out what I keep shoving on the shelves in a frantic stash and dash before someone rings the doorbell. Once I know what doesn't have a home, I will try my darndest to find suitable homes.
• Organize the pantry. This one will actually require M's assistance, unless I feel like taking on a building project. Which I just might. But in all seriousness, we have some super deep cabinets that seem to gobble up canned goods so I never have any idea what I actually have in house. And since we have established many times that I am an inherently lazy person, I never bother to dig through and instead just rebuy. Resulting in 12 cans of chickpeas. To resolve this, I want some pull out shelves.
  
• Organize the toy collection. I actually started this last week, inspired by a link I followed from Jody's. Then I ran into some child-induced difficulties, "NOOOOO! DON'T put THAT there," and was forced to halt until such time that another adult could escort the kids outside, or to the playground, or someplace other than the family room.
• Weed the garden. Y'all saw the pictures. I don't weed. I was spoiled at the last house, we had mulch and fabulous ground covering plants. Since mulch isn't in the budget this year, I actually need to get down and take out those pesky weeds.
• Finish my Einstein Coat. This one is a bit ambitious since I just agreed to make some mittens for an outreach project Lovely Friend is doing, and they need to be done sooner rather than later, but I need something to knit while I am not watching the trashy mini-series.

That's all for now, I figure with two kids in tow, this should probably take me all summer. Wish me luck-

8 Random Facts

Ginger tagged me for this one....and if I still owe someone out there a meme (and I am fairly certain I do), let me know. Because it is shaping up to be a memey sort of week.

1. My children are at the moment raging at me because I took away their ability to pick TV shows after dinner because of their behavior (or lack thereof) at the grocery store this afternoon. Note that I did not take away the TV, just the show picking ability. Because it has been that kind of a day. Hmmm, I wonder what I want to watch. Perhaps some Charlie and Lola...
2. I am very tired. I am always very tired. It is a fact of my life. Maybe not a random fact, as anyone who knows me and my kids knows that I am always tired, but it is a fact.
3. I love trashy novels. I just finished a particularly horrific one which has apparently been turned into a USA mini-series. That should tell you just how horrific it was. Even still, I read it cover to cover. I am NOT going to watch the show, however. Really, I swear.
   
4. I kill plants. Not intentionally, but I kill them nonetheless. Despite this fact, I continue to plan elaborate gardens that will eventually die. My own personal brand of self-torture.
5. I hate to be touched. Hate it. Which makes it rather hard to parent two children who love to snuggle.
6. I used to be well-informed about the goings on in the world. There were actually several years that I read two or three newspapers cover to cover every day. I kick ass in trivial pursuit for those years. Now? I'm lucky if I know if there is a major holiday approaching.
7. When M is out of town I live on frozen pizza and nachos. There is something so wonderful about frozen pizza and nachos. And then I wonder why I can't lose the last ten pounds of baby weight...
8. Ten minutes later my children are still raging at me. In between the bouts of "This is all YOUR fault." "No! It is all YOUR fault." This is going to be the longest. summer. ever.

It should suprise no one

This evening C "graduated" from preschool. Thankfully, the "graduation" was developmentally appropriate, which is why I so love this preschool. The children filed into the church, each class sang two songs, the children sang two songs all together, and they filed out again. But each and every child (well, except for the one little girl who saw her parents in the pew and decided to sit down with them instead of continuing down the aisle) thought it was the best. thing. ever.

And anyone who has met C will not be at all surprised to hear that he was the talk of the post-preschool graduation festivities. C was one of the first children down the aisle, biting his lip and looking not quite happy. But as soon as he saw us and got those five year old "Hi MOM! HI! HI DAD!" waves out of the way, he stood in his spot, and was even overheard telling the boys on either side of him that "I can't chat now, we need to be quiet." Unheard of I tell you.

Then, the music started. And all the entire audience heard was my son belting out the songs as loudly as he could. His (very off-key) voice was literally the only thing you could hear the entire concert. Well, that and A screaming "C! I see him! Hi C!" C was very serious and intent about the whole event, and I couldn't decide whether I should laugh or cry. So I did both.

Afterwards, it took us a good half-hour to make it out of the school as each parent and teacher had to stop us and comment on C's enthusiasm for the songs. The principal even stopped me as I was about to finally exit the building and said "I told you that there was always one child who entertained us each graduation, and I am not at all surprised that it was C. But at least this year we were entertained in a good way, as he was doing EXACTLY what we kept telling them to do, 'Sing loudly!'"

Happy graduation C, and may you find a calling in life that does not involve carrying a tune. I love you bud.

Cue....Panic

Four words for you. Last. Day. Of School. Tomorrow. OK, that was five. Sue me. Really! Please! Because then I might have something to focus on all summer that didn't involve keeping two children who just discovered the joys of sibling bickering occupied.

I can't believe I ever thought that a summer of hanging out and doing nothing was a good idea. It wasn't. It was a horrid idea. We will never survive. For example, today. We had to go to the cell phone store (cell phone+toilet=rather gross, also very dead and very expensive) and the grocery store. By the time we made it out of the cell phone store, A had lost her Dora Popsicle privileges for the foreseeable future and C had lost Radio Disney for two days. Which resulted in a group temper tantrum (which did ultimately land me a $40 discount to get us the hell out of the store as quickly as possible). I am rather sure that if the clerk hadn't forked over the discount, the business man standing in line behind me would have gotten on his (working) cell phone and called someone to take us far, far away.

Then, at the grocery store, we ended up leaving because the kids could not. keep. their hands. to. themselves. Which resulted in no groceries. And, while that may be easy on the pocketbook, it will become a real issue rather quickly as I am down to my last soy milk and apple. Do you think I could stock up on a summer's worth of groceries tomorrow? How long does ultra-pasteurized milk last these days?

If you see SOS signals coming from the general direction of my backyard, please send in reinforcements. Please, I beg of you. Preferable in the form of chocolate. Or a nanny.

I guess one is never happy

Walking out of church yesterday a woman was complaining that she hadn't been able to get her teenagers out of bed this morning, and that now with summer arriving she was going to be spending her life hounding them to get up. I blinked, and look at my two who, never fail, are up at the crack of dawn, and envied her ability to get up and read the paper in peace.

I almost stopped her to ask when this miraculous event occurs, and whether she thought it would happen to my kids as well, but then I realized that by junior high and high school when first bell is at 7ish, having children who want to sleep until noon is going to be just as annoying as it is to have kids who are insisting on getting up at 5:45 every morning when you have no place to go. In fact, I suppose that I should try to keep them on this schedule until high school, because then I shouldn't have any problems getting them out the door to the bus stop on time.

Speaking of house projects...

Here are my summer projects for the yard...

This is off to the side of the yard. I think I am going to turn it into an herb garden. That's not such a big project, just some weeding and whatnot.


This is the overgrown and weedy bed next to the soon-to-be herb garden. It is very shady, making it more of a challenge. I have a feeling that most of the replacement stuff will have to get planted in the fall, but I can start ripping out the weeds and such this summer.


And this is in one of the beds next to the deck. Do you think it is a lily? Our other house had tons of lilies at the old house, but they were a lot bigger. But it sort of looks like one, no? I'm so clueless as to plant names.

New camera

Thanks to the fantabulous Nana, I am now the proud owner of a simple point a shoot digital camera. M is quite the photo fanatic, so up to this point our primary camera(s) have been high end film and, most recently, a digital SLR that quite honestly scares me. Plus, it was so large that it was not a "grab the camera and throw it in your purse" type of thing. Taking the camera someplace involved a large bag, straps, protective lens covers, and strong warnings about what would happen to me if something happened to the camera. The end result? I only took pictures on major holidays, and even those were far and few between.

Nana decided that this was not an acceptable way for her to watch her grandchildren grow up from afar and took matters into her own hands last week. Internets, meet (a slightly blury because I couldn't use the flash) Suzie.
Suzie, meet the Internets. You will now be put into use recording knitting and house projects for their viewing pleasure (oh, and cute kid pics for Nana and the other grandparents).

For Posterity

The kids have never been much for cute kidisms, but we have a few which we seem to be losing and I wanted to record them for posterity so I don't forget.

One of my favorites is "mo-mo" for monitor (as in baby monitor). Before he went to bed each night, C used to ask "Mama mo-mo?" to make sure I had his monitor. When we finally stripped him of his monitor (not so long ago), it was rather traumatic for him. Tears for days, until he realized that this meant he was allowed to come downstairs and find us if he needed anything...

Another one of C's was "O Nee Nee" for Old Navy. It was one of his first words, which should tell you how much time we spent there when he was going through a size every six weeks or so. I took the kids there for the first time in a long time the other day to try and find some non-stained tee shirts for myself, and called it "O Nee Nee." C looked confused, and when I explained to him, he looked at me and informed me that he was no longer a baby and now called it Old Navy and so should I. So sad.

When C was an infant, I could never remember the words to any lulabys, so I made up the words. Or I changed some to make them less scary (M is rolling his eyes right now). The two that stuck with us but never get requested anymore unless someone is sick are "Lullaby" and "Rock-a-Bye." I debated recording them for you to hear, and then decided that I wouldn't torture anyone with my voice. Plus, I have no idea how to accomplish that technologically. So instead, you can hum along with the tune

Lullaby (To the tune of Brahm's Lullaby)
Lullaby, and goodnight
Goodnight Baby C
Mommy loves you
Daddy loves you
Tomorrow we'll have fun

When I was nursing the kids to sleep, I used to then chime in with second and third verses detailing our plans for the day...

We'll go to the park
And play in the sand
We'll go to playgroup
And see all our friends

Rock-a Bye I found too scary (what baby wants to think about falling out of a tree I ask you? NOT condusive to a good nights sleep) so I changed the words.

Rock-a-Bye Baby, Chez J-E Version

Rockabye A, in the tree top
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.
If the bow breaks, the cradle might fall
But Mommy will catch you, cradle in all.

My changes apparently caused much confusion in preschool last year. The teachers finally stopped trying to have the kids sing it because C refused to acknowledge the correct wording.

I am sure there are more that I might think of and I'll add them on, but I probably waited too long to do this post and I'll never remember them. Sigh.

So many things are so much clearer now

Today was C's last day of lunch at school, and in honor of that, I decided to give his lunch box a good thorough cleaning instead of the quick once over that I usually do. As I started scrubbing the outside, I found a pocket that I had never, ever seen before. And that pocket felt rather odd. I opened it up, and out fell a litter of papers. Flyers about family events from weeks ago. The contract for A's tuition next year that the office insisted they had sent home and I insisted that I had never seen. A note from his teacher about the end of the year party, which I am apparently coordinating next week. A birthday party invitation for a party that has long since come and gone.

Clearly, I need to do a better job of cleaning his lunch box next year. And I have an awful lot of apologizing to do tomorrow morning...

Grillmeister

M is away in California for the week. Thankfully, the travel season is almost over. But in his absence I hosted his sister and her kids for dinner tonight. For some unknown reason I decided to grill even though (and I'm highly embarrassed to admit this) I have never actually operated a grill before. M loves to grill so I've always just left the outdoor cooking to him and took a welcome break from meal prep.

But, it all changed tonight baby! After a frantic phone consultation with M ("How do I turn it on?!?" "How long would you cook this!?!"), I fired the grill up. And the food was good. M, watch out, I just might have to start grilling! Or, perhaps I will continue to sit in my lounger with wine glass in hand and comment on your technique. Either way, grill season is here and I am thankful.

Underprogrammed

I feel like I have blogged about this before and I am about to become the really annoying person who tells the same story over and over again (OK, who am I kidding, I am that person. Really. Did I ever tell you about the time...), but I'm too lazy and tired to troll through my archives to find out for sure. So forgive me if you've read this rant before, but I spent most of dinner the other night ranting to M about it (wild hand gestures knocking over water glasses and all) and the topic is still on my mind.

I feel like my children are the only ones in the world (OK, in our town at least) who do not play seventeen sports, take a foreign language, and have at least a playdate a day. I spent my hours working the book fair last week listening to the other moms complain about how they never have a moment to breathe as they chauffeur their (five-year old) children from activity to activity. "We have school from 9-11:30, I pick up McDonalds on the way to gymnastics. Right after gymnastics we head to so-and-so's for a quick playdate, then at 3:30 she goes to ballet. After ballet is soccer, and then it is home for dinner and Spanish flash cards to get ready for her Spanish class tomorrow afternoon."

My eyes about bugged out of my head. And then I slide under the table just a bit as I thought about how little we do. Swimming lessons (because everyone has to learn to swim, in my opinion) and gymnastics because the kids begged and begged and begged. At best, we have a playdate once every other week or so. The rest of the time? We hang out at home. Not doing flash cards. Or we run errands. When do these folks get their grocery shopping done? Or the dry cleaning? Or the Target runs? Seriously! I can't imagine where they fit it in.

I probably shouldn't complain, because I now know why we are always the only people at the library in the afternoons, or the playground. But my mind is totally blown away by the number of activities the rest of the world engage in. And please don't get me started on the weekends, when it seems like people are running from soccer field to baseball field to swim meet. It can't be healthy, right? Children need to have downtime and know how to entertain themselves with empty boxes and scraps of yarn, right? Or am I setting my kids up for some sort life-long failure because they don't have any interest in playing soccer or baseball or any other team sport?

Am I holding them back because I am too lazy to be interested in shlepping them to all those activities? Or because really, how much must all those activities cost? I like to THINK that my kids like hanging out at home with boxes and string, but maybe they would rather be running after a little black and white ball. Stranger things have happened, I suppose. I just can't imagine a scenario in which my children fail in life because I didn't take them to soccer and baseball and tennis and ballet at age three and five. I just can't. And so, we are going to continue on our current course in only enrolling in activities that are necessary (school, swimming) and those that the children beg to attend. And ask me in 20 years how my kids are doing....I'll let you know if my plan worked.

There is no accounting for taste

This afternoon the kids and I braved the mall to return some things at Crate and Barrel and then use the credit to replace our horribly etched water and wine glasses that we got when we got married almost a decade ago. I was actually rather amazed that we still had almost all of them intact, as I can run my way through a set of dishes in less than a year.

I was thrilled to go on an already paid for spending spree, and was literally rubbing my hands with glee at the thought of picking out some new glasses, even if I did have two children who have inherited the dropsies gene in tow. We got there, and I started to browse. Did you KNOW how many options are out there in the wine glass department? Big ones, small ones, colored ones, stemless ones, both C and I were astounded. "Why are there so many wine glasses here Mom?" "I have no idea, but isn't it fabulous?"

At the end of the day, I walked out of the store with these and these. The exact same glasses we registered for almost a decade ago. M just laughed at me when I called to announce that he would feel right at home with our new acquisitions. Hey, at least y'all will know what to get me if you ever need a present. Just look around my house and replace whatever the item most in need of replacement is. Now that the glasses have been replaced, my guess is the bleach-stained, decade old towels. In forest green, of course.

I ask you...

what kind of a forecast is this? "Several hours of sun." I'm so sorry but hello? Does that mean that there will be rain? You know, after the "several hours of sun?" Are the "several hours of sun" in the morning or afternoon? And what IS your definition of "several hours?" Three? Five? Seven?

Rule number 453: Weather forecasting is not a field in which a variety of phrasing is appreciated.

Library Lion

If you haven't already read Library Lion, you must. Right now. It is perhaps one of the most enjoyable children's books I've read to my children. We read it over and over and over again today, and each time it made me smile. Oh, and they loved it too....

Whoops

Apparently, I haven't posted in a week. Which has been pointed out to me by several folks. Yes, I'm still around, and no, nothing has happened. The weather has just been nice and I've been trying to tire the kids out by running them ragged around the neighborhood. I've also been trying to get the book fair at C's school up and running. Man, do I hate the book fair. And not just because it is Day 1 of the fair and I have already spent $50...If anyone ever asks you to volunteer to work a shift at a book fair, please, please say yes. Do it for me, OK?

I'll probably be MIA for another few days, at which point my volunteer duties for the year for both school and church are (almost) over and I can focus on things like blogging and knitting again.

See ya later alligators...