Not Calm (dot com) four children ~ two adults ~ zero peace
Saturday, June 28, 2003
Gymnastics class for the boys + Sophie (not of age to be enrolled) = taking a half hour walk (Willow in arms and Soph in stroller) in the one hundred and three damn degree afternoon.
Ugh.
We did stay in the class for a half hour, while Soph sort of participated from the wings. Apparently this was a problem. I was asked to take her for a walk by the teacher's assistant. I said, "You know, I thought about that, but it's over a hundred degrees out." She didn't answer. Finally, I just left, because we were truly disrupting things once they evolved past running (lots of time spent running, to warm up those rarely-used young child muscles!) and chasing bubbles around the mat, to balance beamy and vaulty type activities.
We visited the nearby cafe/coffee shop where Sophie pointed to a bagel in the case, saying, "I hungry dat!" because she secretly wanted to liberate the bagel, which she did. I told her next time she wants to free the food in the case, not to throw it on the floor inside the cafe, but to let it out in the fresh air and sunshine. But the bagel was probably relieved to stay in the air conditioned building (and away from the daughter of the crazy woman).
I had no cash, shocking but true, so had to get six dollars worth of cafe stuff to justify my visa transaction. Sophie got all excited over a huge glass canister of m&m's, so I got those, two root beers to make up for last night's root beer spectacle*, and a mango and pineapple and banana smoothie to share with Soph. We went back to sit outside the door of the class like the redheaded stepchildren we were. Sophie tossed m&m's about. (I think she's secretly volunteering for the food liberation party.) The stuff DOES melt on your hands, by the way.
*The root beer issue-- short version. Standing with Nate at pizza place, waiting for take out order. Nate demands root beer, I notice the rb is caffeinated, and say no. Major tantrum. HUGE. The pizza guy thinks I'm being abusive or something for saying no caffeine (which is always the rule and even more always the rule at 6:30 pm) and gives Nate a can of root beer. This was a sneaky surprise attack and I didn't refuse it because I was dumbstruck. The man next to me found all this to be entertaining. I took Nate back to the van and came back for the pizzas. The amused man asked what I did with the root beer and I told him I'd stashed it in the van. I could tell he had kids by the way he was laughing with/at me. But I was okay with it; it was pretty humorous. All the way home he shrieked at me for not giving him the root beer. He demanded chocolate milk, because, I think, he knew we didn't have any. He called John a crotch head. That still makes me laugh, even though I know better. Then he was muttering other names learned from cartoons, something like, "pathetic nothing." I asked what that meant, he said a bad guy. I told him the worst thing to call someone was Almighty Ruler. He screamed it at us for awhile. It was funny. So, he didn't get his root beer. Today I got him one and he threw his arms around me and kissed me and thanked me. He's a great kid, just needs polishing.
I love the Harry Potter books. I'm reading hours every night and it's fun. Lexy is in heaven. I hope Ms. Rowling is somewhere typing her ass off; Lex will be bummed when we finish all the books. I read the first five chapters of #4 tonight.
Two weeks to mamagathering. I'm looking forward to it!
I get all these odd google hits, like, "can you tell me where to get pineapple capsules?" or "Where can you hire a toilet in London?" Recently I got one for "Mimi Smartypants from the internet." Yay! I love Mimi Smartypants. I've also been reading this bit of often politically incorrect fun. Speaking of which, aren't we all grateful to see Strom go? Good riddance to a mean awful twit. Read this, it's priceless.
And here's the literary bit. I had to copy and paste; no link luck.
Saturday, June 21, 2003
I am pretending I don't see the entry below. Lalalalalala...
I wasn't going to post, but I can't pass up this opportunity. A friend sent me this. I bolded my favorite part.
The following is from the Washington Post's Style Invitational contest. Readers were asked to submit instructions for something (anything) written in the style of a famous person. The winning entry was:
The Hokey Pokey as written by W. Shakespeare
O proud left foot, that ventures quick within.
Then soon upon a backward journey lithe.
Anon, once more the gesture, then begin:
Command sinistral pedestal to writhe.
Commence thou then the fervid Hokey-Pokey,
A mad gyration, hips in wanton swirl.
To spin! A wilde release from Heaven's yoke.
Blessed dervish! Surely thou canst go, girl. The Hoke, the poke -- banish now thy doubt.
Verily, I say, 'tis what it's all about.
Who knows if this will post. The new and cruddier blogger likes to randomly date my posts. The last few were not written when the headers and footers say they were, but whatever.
Today we got to the recreation center for Lexy's dance class at 9:40 am. He was all set, until we found out that the class was tap/ballet, not tap/jazz and he was the only boy and probably the only one over four years old. So we marched over to the office, after Nate went to the bathroom (which of course involved walking across the dance area) and Sophie participated in the VERY BABYISH hand-clapping sing your name introductions (I'm sure that's what did it for Lexy even more than the ballet part). I explained our situation to the woman at the rec center and she nicely began to give us a refund after we discovered that the only other classes good for Lexy were either full or cancelled because of low enrollment. I stopped her during the refund process and we found room for Lex in Nate's gymnastics class. So much for seperating them this summer, but they seem okay with it. First class is tomorrow.
On the way home we passed one of our favorite parks. I went with a spur of the moment inspiration to take the kids to the park before swimming class. I turned into the parking area which has a little kiosk at the entrance. By the time we'd made it from the main road to the kiosk, Lexy had talked me into skipping the park since a) it was 95 degrees already (at 10:15) and he was wearing his long black dance pants, and b) we had no drinks with us and everyone was already thirsty. I told the guy in the booth that we weren't staying and we turned around. This pretty much crushed Sophie, who has been asking to "GO PARK" all week long without luck. I felt like the worst mother ever, driving away from the park and back home. The worst. My sister came at 11:30 and took the boys to swimming class.
We did get to go to the children's discovery museum later on and play in the air conditioning. Yay air conditioning. Yay for John working there so we could see the Sesame Street exhibit before it opens. It is so fun!! They have a real Big Bird head and shoulders waving from up on a little balcony thing. I had an emotional moment there. John is home and needs to check email so he can get a little sleep and start all over again tomorrow. Night
posts may or may not appear over the next few days that are out of order. I detest the new blogger. It has two of my posts future-dated and I cannot change them. oh well. I'll come back when I'm less cranky
So, enough complaining. What is new and exciting? Can I do this link now? Let's see. If that doesn't work I'll try again. It's a must-read if you like literary sort of jokes.
Lexy has to be at dance class at 9:45 tomorrow (thursday) morning. I signed him up for the later (10:30) class, but it didn't fill up so we have to drag ourselves there earlier if we want tap and jazz instruction. He took about five lessons last fall before he broke his arm, so he figures he knows it all already and will be the best in the class. Can we call that hubris? (Am I sweating the no spell check thing? I'm a poor speller. I'd never put an "e" on potato, but I always make a mistake or two or ten when I write.)
We are well into the third Harry Potter book now, and should be ready to start number five before school resumes. Four is long, and Nate's interest is flagging. He keeps asking me to read Jack and the Beanstalk. I keep telling him that I will not read it until we have a bedtime where he does not injure any family members with his kicking and fidgeting and pinching and grabbing. I doubt I'll ever read the book.
The boys visited the barbershop today. In about six or eight weeks will someone please send me an email reminding me NOT to bring Sophie to the barbershop. She climbed the chairs to get to the counter to get to the candy. Over and over and over. I had a grand master plan which involved the new (secondhand) stroller that she tantrums to ride in and a large cup of ice (my most seldom used, and therefore most effective, bribe). The ice was dumped on the barbershop floor within 20 seconds, and suddenly the stroller was not where she wanted to sit. This all happened as soon as I was able to get Willow quieted down (Thankyou thought all the frazzled barbers) by nursing her. Lexy's barber asked the wall if it wanted his son to have the boy's cut. I answered for the wall. It's not like I was indiscreet, geez. But, since I was nursing her and didn't want to walk around with my parts exposed or make Willow stop and start shrieking again, Soph had the run of the place. Nate got the guy I don't like who cut off his curls, his baby curls, a couple years back when I specifically told him not to. I looked the man in the eye and said, "I'm not ready for his curls to go yet, will you just trim his bangs so he can see?" The idiot cut across the back first thing and I just cried and cussed every time I passed the barber shop for about, well, I still do. But the thing I wanted to say really, is Sophie cannot go there again.
John is home and needs to check email and sleep. I'll be done.
This pooey new blogger. Ick. Won't let me do what I want. Let's see if I can post a photo.
Nope. The tool bar doesn't click which means I can't link to something funny, can't post the photos, and can't spell check. Hmmm, I'm guessing this won't post, either, so I'll copy it and try to reload the page.
there are a couple of posts that won't post because the stupid new blogger is dating them for Friday. I seem to be able to change the date, but whatever it is it doesn't really change. We'll just blame it on the technology. couldn't possibly be my fault! heh
I still haven't had time to check out the new blogger digs. The last post (Tom Waits) was really written Monday night/ Tuesday morning at midnightish. It didn't post until today, and only did then because John did it for me while Willow and I lay wilted on the bed suffering through this wretched heat wave.
Oh. It says "error on page" at the bottom of this page. Think I'll see if this posts, tool around a bit with the new format and come back later.
I don't think I like the new blogger set up. You can't tell from here, but it's all different on the writing side. As Lexy would say, "I'm not exactly used to this."
Sophie, the other day after her bath, took part of Nate's uneaten dinner and walked, nekkid, into the living room. She turned on the stereo. She turned up the stereo. She danced with glee to Tom Waits singing along with some pounding drums, keeping time with the Chinese pork rib in her left hand and the tempura chicken leg in her right. Now, I'm a vegetarian, but it seems to me like if you're going to dance naked to Tom Waits, you ought to have a couple of handfuls of meat. Probably a cigarette, too, if you're of age.
Remember the pretty neighbor I wrote about a few days ago? (I'd link to the post, but who knows where it is with this new set up that I don't have time to navagate right now.) A couple of days ago her husband knocked on the door. He was greeted by the children, dirty and in need of haircuts, John, wearing a t-shirt that said something like, "What the hell do you expect in a world like this?" and me, in flannel pj bottoms, a string tank top that says "got breastmilk?" no bra, no shower and Willow on my shoulder. I was decorated in spit up as well. Behind us is an unholy mess of boxes and wrapping paper and trash that needs to go out and food on the floor. Why is he knocking on the door? He's bringing us a plate of still hot, not warm, HOT, chocolate chip cookies that his wife just baked.
Oh, where do I start? Not only has the state of our house and it's inhabitants rarely been so poor, but we should be bringing them the baked goods. They are the new neighbors, not us. Oh well. I just had to laugh.
The boys started swim classes today. They. Are. So. Cute.
Willow is almost four months old now. I've discovered that I can put her down to sleep when we're not at home and she'll be fine for hours on end. But not here. Never here. Here she always wakes up. Why? Does anyone have any idea?
Last night the phone rang at 10:30. A man asked for Dave. Now we get lots of calls for Dave. He had this number before us. His friends are mostly dolts, at least the ones who he never bothered to give his new number to anyway, which makes a lot of sense. One time at the video store we gave our phone number because we idn't have our rental card and the clerk said, "Are you Dave?" That's the closest contact we've had with the guy and I actually begged the clerk to tell Dave when he saw him to tell people that he had a new number. Anyway, this guy called for Dave and wasn't getting the concept that the number had been reassigned. He finally gave up on asking for Dave and started telling me how cute I sounded. I think I'd like to apply for a permit to carry a sidearm. The guy gave me the creeps. Ick.
Well, John is home from work, yay! and needs to check his email and sleep so he can get up in six hours and go lead nine preschoolers around the park. Brave man.
where is the spell check? grumble I'm afraid to click around to look for it, don't want to lose my post. Pardon the typeos.
Why are baby and puppy and kitten yawns so cute? They're sorta syrupy.
Here are pictures of Sophie on her second birthday, wearing the dress that Mom brought back from England. Willow has a tiny matching one. And, here is a shot of the Hoppy Deku cake I made. Stop laughing, I was in a hurry. Here we see John and the boys at Easter, and this is Sophie, right after she took a bite out of the egg she so painstakingly dyed. You are correct if you were thinking that she didn't bother to peel the thing first.
Today I went through all the huge tubs of the girls' clothes and got out stuff that should fit them now and packed up things for Willow to someday wear. I have stacks to give away, too. I went through two dressers and the closet as well. It took me most of the afternoon, since I also was making lunches and redirecting Sophie with her pen. As dinnertime approached, the whining and fighting had escalated so we got dinner out at High Tech Burrito, and headed to the park.
I sat on my (fat) rear end with Willow while John chased the kids all over and escorted Sophie up the climbing structure to the slide that I can hardly stand to look at. It's three levels up the structure (about fifteen feet high, I'd guess) and it's a tunnel. It has lots of turns. It scares the hell out of me. I'm so claustrophobic that if I look at it and imagine being in it I get all sweaty and odd feeling. But everyone had fun and the kids ran and ran and ran and did not fight (too much). While we were there, Sophie raided Nate's tiny sized Sprite for the ice. Ice is not far behind chocolate on her list of THINGS I WANT, but she rarely gets it because her oldest brother once choked on a piece of ice and frightened his mother so badly that she is now reluctant to indulge the little ice lovers.
With all the running, Nate became thirsty. He also ate quite a few of the saltiest chips in creation. When we got to the van, with Sophie screaming and kicking and wailing, "I GO PARK I PLAY PARK NOOOOOOOO GO HOME," he wanted her drink which had accidentally been left sitting in her cupholder by her seat. I thought this was reasonable. Sophie did not. She had ahold of the cup so tightly that I knew if I kept pulling on it, it would spill all over. We wanted to go and she usually shares easily, so I just let her have it and got in and we left. Nate and Sophie sit in the back of the van, with room for one slender person between them. Lexy and Willow are in the middle row pilot chairs. For the entire ride home, Nate screamed and cried for the cup. He howled and thrashed and ended up getting hit in the eye, yes, the eye, and bitten on the finger. Sophie was not going to give him a drink. He cried, and she cried, the whole way. It was deafening. I sort of got them to quiet down at one point and asked Sophie if she'd share the drink. She said no. She then said, "Nay nay crying." I said he was crying for the drink and asked if she'd share. No dice. I convinced Nate to ask her nicely and not scare her with all his shrieking. So, he sweetly and quietly said, "Sophie, I'm really thirsty, can I have a drink?" She sweetly and quietly looked at him and said, "No." The scream fest resumed. We pull into the driveway, I hop out, open the sliding door reach in and take the cup and hand it to Nate. He takes a couple of sips and says, "There's no bubbles in this." I told him it had been sitting too long and was flat. "Oh," he says, "she can have it," and hops out of the car like all is well.
We got bathed and pajamaed and into bed. Soph fell asleep pretty quickly and I read three + chapters of the third Harry Potter book to the boys. We laughed and laughed at the funny things the Weasley twins did and even though I was bitching at Nate for kicking me repeatedly, they fell asleep happy.
I cut the weeds in front of the house last night with the trusty push mower. Now I've got lavender plants on the brain. I miss the huge one I had outside the door of our last apartment. Nate used to pick the blooms and eat them and his breath was divine. I made lavender ice cream for his birthday when he turned two. I want to put in a few in the front, under the mailbox and against the fence.
Have to go play with the boys now; they need a titan to kill. (I'm such a party pooper. I'm always saying, "Why do you have to kill it? Can't you just catch it and put it in jail? Maybe it's a nice titan. . . ")
I took all the kids, by myself, to the video store on Friday. John wasn't going to be home until late and I thought I'd grab a movie that he wouldn't be interested in. We got to the place we always go to, and Sophie was asleep. Luckily, I had an umbrella stroller in the car, so that Sophie could ride in it during her nap with her chin plonked down on her collarbone and drool running out of her mouth. She was really really tired. Umbrella strollers don't recline. Poor girl. Anyway, I told the kids that since I was taking them to the video store even though their sister was sleeping, I'd carry Willow and they had to be in charge of Sophie. So far, so good. We make it inside without incident, and we even pick our movies pretty quickly. I saw a used pokemon video for 1.99 and grabbed that as well. Great. All set. Except . . . Nate has to poop. Now. I ask the kid behind the counter if we can run use the bathroom and he said no. I said it was for my four year old who really couldn't wait. He said no again. I asked when they changed the policy, since we'd used the bathroom lots of times before. He just said we'd have to go to the restaurant across the parking lot. I kept staring at him. I asked if he was really sure about this. He said he was. We put back our movies. We headed across the parking lot. Now, I wasn't planning ahead, and was carrying Willow in my arms instead of one of the two slings or the cloth frontpack in the van. I also had my wallet in my hand.
(I need a paragraph break.)
So, we go to the cafe. Nate poops while I say obsessively, "Don't touch anything! Don't touch the toilet seat! Wash your hands!" We are all happy he made it. I feel like we should at least order drinks or something, so we get a couple of sprites and a coke and Lexy says he's hungry. He says to the man, "I know this may sound sort of unusual, but I'd like a burrito with just rice. Is it spanish rice? Great. I'd like a burrito, just stuffed with that rice, please. Thanks." The guy is cracking up, gets our drinks and burrito and rings us up. (Isn't it sad that I put that on my visa? I never have cash. It's pathetic.) Problems arise as we begin to go back to the van to stash our stuff before going back to the video store for our movies. Lexy is utterly incapable of carrying things. His burrito was in a little paper sack, and his drink was pretty big, but not unwieldy. He could not carry both. No way. So, I left him with Sophie in front of the restaurant, took Nate and the drinks and the burrito in a sack and my wallet, and, oh yeah, don't forget Willow, and walked across the parking lot to the van. We put everything inside. We go back across the parking lot, get Lexy and Sophie, go back to the video store and pick up where we left off.
We are now in line with lots of crappy movies and it's really hot outside and I'm tired and ready to pay and get home. A different clerk rings us up. Midway through the transaction, Lexy starts hopping around with his hand over his hiney, saying, "Mmmmmmoooooooooommm! I hafta go poop!" No, I'm not kidding. I just looked at him and asked if he could make it home. I seriously was afraid he was going to go on their floor, because he kept looking at the ground like he'd dropped something. The video guy says, "Oh, he can use our bathroom. I'll show him where it is."
I still don't know if that made me really happy or supremely pissed off. Who can tell?
I pay, and take the other three kids to the front of the store. We wait for Lexy. Nate decides that only big kids get to use the bathroom there and decides that is very unfair. I tried to explain to him about Store Rules and how nice people let children use the toilet when they need to and that people who are less than nice tell them to go across the street, but he was not convinced. Lexy was gone awhile, and little alarms started going off in my head. So, I left Nate with Sophie, still asleep, thank heaven, and went to see if Lexy was okay. He met me halfway, and I couldn't help it, I asked if the guy had gone into the bathroom with him to help him. No, he hadn't, Lexy said, it just took a long time and we needed to hurry home because he was only halfway done. I thought, "Do I truly want to know what that means?" as I asked him if he was okay. He said yes and we got to the car, where Sophie woke up, saw she didn't have a Sprite, and threw a HUGE FIT for ICE.
I was so glad to get home.
Of course, I fell asleep and didn't get to see the movie until the following night, which was okay since John liked it too. About Schmidt, in case you were wondering. If you can stand it, I do have another rambling story to tell.
On Monday it was hot. John and I dropped the kids off at their dad's at 6 pm and went to Trader Joe's for groceries. Standing near the entrance was a very young (twentiesish) girl in a halter top that showed her flat and tan stomach (how do you get both those things, should be one or the other, shouldn't it?) and a short skirt with a low waistline. Hmmmm. I was already feeling supremely ugly because, now this may shock you, sometimes Willow is really fussy and I don't get a shower. This was one of those days. I had that lovely limp gross sweaty hair in a ponytail look going on, and my frumpy fat skirt from Target and a dorky nursing shirt and no make up (not unusual, but also not helping me that day). We made it past her, and went inside. There were like a hundred and sixty eight girls just like her, I swear. And they were all tall and really pretty. They had lettuce and bottled water in their carts and I was piling in the cookies and chocolate, because, you know, at this point, Who cares?? I said to John that I was a little pissy that there were so many gorgeous women there when I was feeling like dirt. He hugged me and said something wonderful, because he is the greatest man alive, by far. In line one of them was right behind us and she said, "Oh, your baby is so cute." I wanted to crawl under the cash register cabinet. It was awful.
We got home and unloaded the groceries. We live in a duplex and have new neighbors. I had only met the husband, but knew there was a wife and a four month old baby, Sophie. The wife was outside tearing up all the ferns that the people who lived there for the past fourteen or so years had planted and watered all the time and maybe even obsessed over a bit (hope they don't come back to visit; they'll just cry).
She is tall. She is totally beautiful. She could be a Gap model. She is way too thin to have a baby so young. She was doing yardwork. Our lawn looks terrible. It's weedy and brown and overgrown. The wildflowers I had under the mailbox are dead, but by Golly they're still standing, so that looks extra attractive. Her baby was in one of those baby bucket car seat things and was quietly playing with toys and watching her. I would have slinked inside, but she waved and smiled with her perfect teeth. I had to go over. I also was coated in Willow barf. That child has become a little cheese factory. But, the new neighbor is really nice and I'm glad to have her there. I think we'll get along and the kids can hang out if they stay long enough for that to happen. Gosh, did I just jinx everything? Will we have some horrid dispute with them now and start trying to get each other evicted? I'm sure as long as she drinks coffee and likes to talk we'll get along fine.
So, today. Today a good thing happened and that was my hair. I put it up and it did this cute little thing all by itself and I got actual compliments. I even wore lipstick. And sort of matching undergarments. I felt pretty good. I picked up my little man from his last day of Kindergarten, which reminds me:
I love having a place to keep things like this.
The end of school was pretty sad. I was very grown-up and didn't cry when I walked up to the class and heard the kids singing. I could hear children singing about sand fleas or something and I would cry. It's just those sweet little voices that get me. But, I'm so proud, I didn't let myself start, because maybe I wouldn't be able to stop right away and Lexy would be mortified. His teacher sang the same song that she sang at the end of every day. It goes, "Now the day is over, now the day is through, Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye from me to you." She then adds, for example, "Goodbye Lara, Goodbye Paul, Goodbye Lexy, I love to see you smile." And even though she was teary, she did the whole thing. It was really sweet. She was very glad to be done with this year. It was challenging. We plan to meet for drinks this summer.
I am blogging! Before 8 am! What a strange thing. I generally hit the ground pouring apple juice and changing diapers in the morning, but only Willow is awake. Lexy has gone off to the last day of kindergarten. I cried, but only a little bit, when I wrote the note on his napkin. This school year went by in a blur, but it also seems like he's always been in kindergarten. The wedding last October seems years ago. Hasn't Willow always been with us? Was she ever really only four pounds?
John likes his new job, and he doesn't even complain about getting up. In fact, today I heard him say how much he likes this time of day. It is nice. Especially in summer when it's cool and damp in the morning.
I'm looking forward to summer. I don't care for the heat, but it will be fun to go to the mamagathering in LA and do swim lessons and stuff like that. Nate is taking gymnastics, and Lexy dance. Nate just woke up, sleepy and wanting to cuddle.
Et tu Sophie? Last night we watched About Schmidt. I liked it very much. Sophie woke up around 1 am and toddled into the living room to sit on my lap and play before going back to sleep. The woman who plays the daughter came on screen and Sophie pointed and said, "Lulabelle!" (Really she said the name of her dad's girlfriend, which isn't Lulabelle.) "Yes," I agreed, "that does look like her." Shortly thereafter, Kathy Bates came on screen with her long salt and pepper hair in a pony tail. She also happens to be a bit thicker than the previous actress. Sophie brightens up and points, "Mama!" she says.
I have to say, however, yay for Kathy Bates and the hot tub scene. I don't see why people got all bothered by it. I guess that reality is shocking in the Hollywood world where everything seems to be false. The whole thing got me thinking differently about body image. Take, for instance, me. I have given birth four times in less than seven years, and I also had one miscarriage. Yes, I'm a good twenty pounds too heavy these days for all the clothes in my closet. (Twenty pounds is a lot for a five foot tall girl like myself.) I like chocolate and carbs and whole milk and it shows. But instead of hating myself so much for it, I'm starting to think, so what? I don't plan on abandoning my health or anything, but really, I can't let something like my weight be so important. I'm not totally over it, of course, part of me is thinking that if I can quit worrying about it I'll have an easier time losing the weight. Pass the chocolate.
Also last night while sitting on my lap, Soph tried to put her finger up my nose. "I pick you nose!" she said. Charming. And very funny.
John starts the new job tomorrow. I think he'll absolutely love it. I'm happy for him and it's been fun to see him get ready and look forward to the summer. He's got wonderful ideas for the camp. The kids will all want to come home with him at the end of the week. Willow is so lucky.
For Father's Day I took the kids to Petroglyph. They painted a plate and mug for John, a cereal bowl for their Grandad, and I made a mug for John's dad, too. Lexy also did mugs for his dad and his teacher. We had fun. My mom came along and ended up taking Sophie out after about 45 seconds. I really thought she'd want to paint, but it didn't work out. At all. I want to go back there with John. I think he'd like it and I know he'd make some really beautiful pieces.
What else? We heard and saw the aftermath of an accident today on our way to breakfast at 1:30pm. Some kid was talking on a cell phone and smoking and generally, it would seem, not paying attention, and tried to change lanes into a lane that was occupied by a van full of little kids. The driver of the van swerved and hit a traffic light, which took off the right front panel before crashing to the pavement. Everyone seemed alright, but just the sight of all the carseats (three, I think) in the van and knowing that the children inside were terrified made me really upset. Kids should be exempt from bad stuff.
We had a really great time at breakfast anyway. I took John to a little diner kind of place, where we had bottomless cups of coffee (only $1.35, in Los Gatos!) and hash browns and egg concoctions. Willow was sweet and soon fell asleep. Lots of people commented on her and congratulated John. After we went to Tower Records and poked around and picked up a couple of DVDs. I even got a little cat nap and managed to not stress about the messy house. Not pretend to not stress, but actually not stress, which is wildly different and quite liberating.
Hey, sign the guestmap thingie! I'm so excited. I'm also falling asleep. It's such a toss up deciding if I should sleep or have a couple hours to myself at night when the kids are asleep. Lexy is sleeping alone in the top bunk tonight. Does that mean in about six years I'll get to sleep with John instead of the kids at night? Too depressing to think about. Goodnight. Really. It's shockingly late.
Things I Can Do While Holding (And Often Nursing) A Baby:
~brush someone else's teeth
~make and pack a lunch
~change a diaper
~move a load of washing to the dryer
~put on my shoes
~shop for shoes with the boys
~buy things at Target
~pee
~blog
~talk on the phone and scramble eggs
~talk on the phone and make potato salad at midnight
~pluck my eyebrows
~play go fish
~put photos in the album
~BREW COFFEE
(John, I swear I planned to write that before I made fun of you for not being able to do six things at once while holding Willow. You are not a rookie. I was only teasing. You are the best dad ever. I love you)
I put green onions in the potato salad. Said salad is now divided into two containers in the fridge, awaiting two separate pot luck lunches at the same park for different things. John has a YSI (Youth Science Institute) picnic, and Lexy's school has the end of the year shindig even though school is out next week. We'll all be in the same general area, but not together.
I had to sample the potato salad to make sure I would not be embarrassing myself by bringing it. I put some in a bowl, don't worry. I never would eat out of the container. That's why I hate potlucks, I get weird about eating other people's food if I think they made it when nobody was looking. Yes, D, you can make potato salad for five bucks, but it's those damn onions that make you pay. 'Cuse me while I go burp and make faces some more. I should have put dill instead of onions. Yikes. I'll never be able to sleep. What a time to be out of Tums. It was good, though.
Nate's friend came over to play today and he took a good thirty minutes before he'd come out. He was shy about his eye. It does look pretty awful. But, he is doing well and doesn't seem too mad at me.
Today I took the boys (and Willow) shoe shopping. Lexy was like a teenaged girl and pouted when they didn't have the zip up tennies in his size at the first store. In the future I think I'll give him the cash and stay back while he shops. What a nightmare of whining and moaning. It would have been easier to nail iron to the bottoms of his feet. Tell me, how can the size 12 be too tight and the 11 1/2 be too big? It took way too long, but we got shoes and I even found a pair for Sophie that look like a pair of mine. We might coordinate tomorrow. I can't decide if that's too geeky.
Nate has another appointment with the wonderful Dr. Fisher in the morning. I can't believe that after the surgery Nate is still excited to go see the man, but he is. I wish he could be our medical doctor, too. I love the pediatrician we have, but we always get stuck with the assistant when we go in. She is too negative for me. Needing sleep. Fading fast.
Night.
Tuesday morning I took Nate to the hospital downtown for eye surgery. I have always admired and respected families who have members with serious health problems, but whenever I go through things like this with my own kids I think about that even more. He did so well. The surgery (I called it a procedure, and he was more comfortable with that word than with surgery or operation ) was to repair his misaligned eye muscles. He didn't have a "lazy eye" exactly, but his eyes didn't focus together very well. He was starting to favor one eye and was in danger of losing function in the other (his left) and having it turn outward permanently. So, this was a good thing to do for him. I had to tell myself that today over and over. He was afraid, as we all would be to have someone mess around with our eyes. Not having breakfast really pissed him off. The nurse finally gave him a sedative after I'd convinced him to put on the hospital gown. ( Rant here-- the gowns were plastered with McDonald's characters. Okay, where's the logic? Eat that crap all your life and you'll end up with heart problems, obesity, maybe even diabetes or a stroke. The whole thing really irritated me.) After the sedative took effect he settled down comically. He wanted to sit up but was swaying, and he smiled and talked silly. When they wheeled him down the hall without me he wasn't too upset. I cried, of course. I spent an hour waiting for the surgeons to finish. Long hour. They came out and told me that everything had gone perfectly. Soon after the nurse came to tell me he was waking up.
I walked into the recovery room to find Nate sitting up crying and screaming with his eyes squeezed shut. I almost began crying again, but knew that wouldn't help him any. He was groggy and angry and most unhappy about the IV in the back of his left hand. He had a grape popsicle, the IV was removed and I helped him get dressed. His left eye was red at the sides where the muscle had been detached, moved a few millimeters and reattached. The eye also was turned in toward his nose, which looks a little odd right now, (the eye, not the nose) but cuts down on his chance of needing to repeat the procedure. I had to leave him to get the van into the driveway to pick him up. He was really crying when I left, but it couldn't be helped. If you ever take your child in for an outpatient surgical procedure have someone else come to drive so you don't have to leave his/her side. I moved as fast as I could, strapped Willow into her seat and raced around to the front of the surgical center. He was waiting with the nurse, and smiled when he saw me.
After he'd woken up in recovery and had a popsicle, he had some tylenol with codeine in syrup form. So, as we drove through a construction site in downtown San Jose, he barfed apple juice, a strawberry, and three grape popsicles all over the back of the van. No, wait. That was closer to home. As we drove through the construction, the last bit of his third popsicle fell off the stick, and he cried so hard I pulled over and got it off the floor of the van for him. After I made sure it was clean, (it landed on the back of his coat that was on the floor) he ate it and fell asleep. We picked up Sophie at a friend's house, then on the way home he threw up. Poor little guy. I got him inside with John's help, cleaned him up and put him to bed, where he stayed for a few hours. I cleaned up the van, which wasn't too bad even though he managed to hit more surfaces than I thought possible.
Today (is this confusing? I started this post last night, but didn't finish.) he is back to his old self. His eye is really red and crooked, but it will get straight over time. If he looks at things head on he sees double, so he either looks slightly sideways at me or says he is using his super double vision. It's a superpower, he says.
Willow saw the cardiologist this morning to make sure her heart defects had closed. They have. Later this month Nate has to have general anesthesia to fix the rest of his teeth, and then I hope to be finished with medical events for awhile. It's draining.
Other than that, not too much has been going on. I didn't get Father's Day cards in the mail in time. What an errant grand/daughter I am. I guess I'll get the cards in the mail today and send emails to them for Sunday. Yay internet! Yay that my parents and grandparents are connected.
Time to go cuddle the kids and read more Harry Potter.
Yesterday my mom came with me to do a Father's Day-related errand. After, we got the kids frozen yogurt. Nate chose a neon rainbow colored cone, and Soph and Lex had a chocolate/vanilla swirl thing. They were all covered in the stuff, and most of Nate's face and hands (and a chunk of Sophie's hair) were electric blue. When we were going back to our parking spot we walked past a handicapped parking space sign behind a row of shops. It's basically a regular street sign pole with a different sign atop it as far as height and weight goes. I heard a horrifically loud crash and turned to see Nate, close to tears and looking astonished, standing by the now-fallen sign. Goes without saying how relieved I was that it didn't fall on him or anyone else or anyone else's vehicle. My mom handed Sophie to me and picked up the pole so she could screw it back into its little holder in the sidewalk. As we were debating the safety of leaving it standing, a man on a cell phone walked out of the back of one of the shops. He was almost smiling.
"Hello. The lady who keeps unscrewing the handicapped sign is back again, only this time she knocked it over! And she has all these filthy kids with her."
My friend DH calls. I tell her we're starting the second Harry Potter book. I tell her, No, it's not too scary." She considers reading it to her almost five year old daughter.
Nate gets on the phone with the daughter, who happens to LOVE unicorns. He says, "We are reading Harry Potter. In the first book a werewolf kills the last unicorn and drinks its blood." I'm hissing, "Nate!!! Don't tell her that!"
Feeling sort of stupid now. Hoping the daughter is not having trouble sleeping.
You are Daria. Cynical, smart and appreciated by many, you are not alone. Everyone knows things will work out for you someday. You are honest, and like many smart people, you didn't get into your top college, but you overcome that. You are fairly self-actualized from a young age. I mean, you are the bomb-diggity.
Ha! I didn't realize Daria was an outcome until that popped up. Yay! I love Daria. It doesn't matter that I'm not really like her. Thanks to Coleen for the link.
Met a friend and her two kids at the park today. They all had a lot of fun climbing and swinging and, in Sophie's case, eating the wood chips and dirt. It will be nice when school is out and we can do the park in the mornings and naps and housework in the afternoons. Oh, help me, the things I look forward to.
The boys are signed up for hundreds of dollars worth of classes this summer. Swimming for both, dance for Lexy and gymnastics for Nate. I was looking at the catalogue and asked Nate if he wanted the "Musical Gym Class" or the "Gym Kids" class. He didn't even want to hear about the music one, he was really excited for "Gym Kids." Okay. After I got off the phone he asked if they were going to space. Huh?
Turns out he was thinking Jim Newman, the astronaut my father knows. Jim's Kids. I see. He took the news rather well, and can't wait to get to jump on the mini trampoline as outlined in the program description. Vaulting sounds fun to him also. (Phew!)
Sophie: Knock knock!
Me (or anyone): Who's there?
S: Ernge (orange).
Me: Orange who?
S: Owl! Ha ha ha.
Age two, tells knock-knock jokes. Better start that college fund now.
Lexy's best friend, whom he worships (R is the fastest kid ever, R is so smart, R is playing in a soccer league), has been running away from him at recess every day and won't talk to him. Poor Lex. That kind of rejection is so hard. I think, in this case though, that it's even harder on his poor innocent family. He comes home from school so angry and pissy and mean to his brother. I feel like calling R myself and saying, "Look you little shit, school's almost over, be nice to my kid for a few more days. You're older, you won't be in his class this fall (Lexy's in a K/1 class) and I promise we'll be "busy" this summer." Of course I can't do that. Oh well.
I just ordered his wonderful teacher a cute gift. I flaked all year. Birthday, Christmas, Valentine's Day, Teacher Appreciation Day. . . nuthin. But, I decided to get a end of the year gift separate from what the class is giving her. So check out the Cinnamuffin Candle Company. I got the half-dozen in a variety of scents. It's perfect because a) she loves little candle/potpourri things and b) she calls the kids "muffin" all the time. I think the class gift is going to be candles, too, but mine will be cuter. Nya, nya, nya. We should be writing the woman large checks every week for what she does, but I think she enjoys it. I'm really happy she's probably going to be his teacher next year, too.
See, I told you I'm nothing like Daria. She would have been way too bored to read any of this, let alone live it.
John worked at the museum today for what may have been the last 'normal' time. He'll be in the garden still this summer with the reptiles, but not inside. We met there, you know, so it's sort of sad. I wanted to go today, but with Lexy getting out of school shortly after John's shift starts and Sophie's nap, it just didn't work. We'll have to go on one of his Saturdays. I'm so so so grateful that we did meet. I can't even put it in words. I am really happy.
If you've never seen the Power Rangers, do not let your children talk you into renting it. If I can only save one parent, my effort will not have been in vain. Good gravy, that is the worst show EVER.
Sophie turned two on Tuesday. She is really cute these days, and last night at her little family party was no exception. She'd open up clothes and say, "Pretty. It fits!" She came away with quite the haul. I'll post pictures when they come back.
I made my first ever birthday cake. I've always bought from this really really swank place in downtown Los Gatos for the kids' birthday cakes (and have had to deal with some nasty comments because of that. Hey! I know you don't read this, but, if I want to spend stupid amounts of money to have a killer chocolate cake with a fantastic design, it's my own business. So. Shut. Up. Feeling better!). Where am I??? made the cake, yes. It looked goofy, but tasted alright. Next party maybe I'll make the ice cream, too. 'Cause of course my mom bought me a really nice ice cream maker. I am spoiled, remember.
Anyhoo, we had fun and Sophie did, too.
Guess what Nate did? Remember the bowl incident? Yesterday he decided that he'd pee in the fireplace instead of going to the toilet. Think Ayun Halliday will want to adopt him for source material?? Again, we don't have cable tv. It was a video. It was the Power Rangers. Ick. I'm just glad it's summer (except for the heat, that part is rotten), and things will dry out before the next fire is lit.
I got a picture today of the mama hummingbird feeding her babies! Yay me. I can't wait to see if it comes out. I didn't want to disturb them so I didn't get as close as I wanted, but hopefully they'll show up in the frame.
Think I need sleep. Next week John starts the new job configuration. I think I'll see him even less than I do now, but he will love the new gig. I should get a job, too, but Willow is still too little. I keep entertaining the home-based-business idea, but my Grand Master Plan is a little too ambitious for the amount of time I have to devote to the craft I want to do and sell. How's that for vague? Maybe I'll link to paypal for donations. I know; on-line advice, .25(where's the cents button?).
Time to go sleep and plot and hope I don't have a repeat of the awful dream I had last night where Lexy was really hurt and even though I'd ridden in the ambulance with him, I couldn't find him at the hospital. I hate dreams like that.
This was taken awhile back. She loves playing in there. Yes, we know it's not a good idea, but we are worn down and the children pretty much do as they please as long as they don't make too much noise or spill our coffee.
We saw Finding Nemo today. I really did like it, though I think the reviews should have stressed a little more how scary it is. I thought there'd be a scene or two that would be frightening, but the whole thing was really intense. They kill off the mom in the first scene (oh, sorry, did I spoil the plot? I know it's such an original twist for the mom to get killed at the start of a movie for children!!! ) while she and her husband are talking about the first time they met. I'm sure it was less scary than spending an afternoon with the mysteriously grumpy me flipping out that there are toys and smashed cookies everywhere. Hello!! You have FOUR kids, one of whom refuses to be put down. Ever. The house will be a mess for awhile. Things will be lost under giant piles of stuff. Other things will not get done in a timely fashion. It's okay. Get over it already.
It is hot again. I want to go and get more clothes that fit. I have a pair of pants and a skirt or two that I can fit into. Today I had to wear maternity pants. That is just wrong. Maybe I'd be in a better mood if I could put clothes on without such a fuss.
Hey, I just got Willow down to sleep. I think I'll go do the same. 'Night.
