Don't read if you are squeamish.

At 4:30 this morning Lexy sat up in bed, said, "I'm hungry," then leaned over and puked a good gallon or two onto the floor. The carpeted floor. I got things somewhat cleaned up with a bottle of Febreeze because I couldn't find the carpet cleaner. The sprayer on the Febreeze was broken, so I just dumped a bunch on the carpet and now it doesn't even smell at all in the bedroom. Yay!

There was more barf, of course. While Lexy was heaving he was crying about how much he'd loved that burrito. Nathan, who I thought was done with this on Monday, started screaming from the bathroom that he didn't make it in time and that he had diarrhea. Cleaning the mess on him and the floor took lots of strategic planning and many paper towels and there was bleach involved. Willow woke up during this time and played on the bed long enough for me to get the boys in the bath.

I've been taking care of little ones for almost seven years, and this was the worst of the worst. Looks like a movie marathon/laundry party at our house today. At least it seems cooler. I hope Sophie doesn't start throwing up. Hope I don't.

I just checked on the kids. They are sleeping like puppies on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed (yes all four; they sleep on it crossways [it's a double] and I usually lay along a two inch strip at the bottom by their feet). As usual, I had to free Willow from pillow duty; someone is always cuddled up to her resulting in her mouth and nose being hidden from view, which in my mind means she's not getting any air. This time it was Sophie doing the layover, so I very gingerly slid Willow over a piece praying to Maude that Soph wouldn't wake up and start the shrieking and kicking act that she performed earlier. Those damn molars better finish growing in or I'm going to go hit Ye Olde Bottle Shoppe right around the corner and get that girl a little whiskey.

Good. Unsafe sleep conditions and jokes (Please relax, it is a joke!) about giving toddlers booze. I'm Mother Of the Year!

Maybe it wasn't her teeth. Yesterday she got stung on the knee by a bee in the swimming pool. I didn't realize at the time that the bee that was scoping out my infant until I persuaded it to move along had stung my toddler. She told me her knee hurt, but I thought she'd bumped it on the baby pool steps. When we got home it was round and welty and it hurt. Today it looks exactly like a round rug burn, so I imagine it's still stingy.

Speaking of the pool . . . We went to our 4:10 (do I really have to put pm?) lesson today to find the pool closed. I wouldn't have minded terribly (A PHONE CALL WOULD BE NICE, SINCE IT HAD BEEN CLOSED SINCE LAST NIGHT, BUT OKAY, WHATEVER), except that this afternoon I was going to cook up a little hoohaa for dinner and didn't because due to the lesson, there wasn't time. Also getting ready to go involved a few arguments about finding and carrying towels (I washed and dried Lexy's and he was none the wiser. Nate has no memory of peeing on the floor.) and applying sunblock and putting on sandals. I think I once suggested to the boys that they get shoed like a horse if it was so hard to put on velcro closure sandals. (I figure I'm already headed for hell, so why not tell them things like that? Once again, they know I'm joking. Sort of.) When we finally parked at the swimming pool location parking lot, Sophie was asleep and I put her in the umbrella stroller before we found out the news that the pool was closed due to, the sign said, "A FECAL ACCIDENT." Only the sign version had some different colored markers and underlining at work to make me even happier that I was not the parent of the offender. "Oh well," the woman I'd never seen before said, "you can go watch the bird show over by the playground!!" Thanks. So. Much. For. Telling. My. Kids. That. So. I. Can't. Run. Home. And. Make. What. I. Wanted. For. Dinner. (That's how my thoughts look when I'm gritting my teeth.)

Sophie stayed asleep, which meant I needed to stay far far away from any bird show (who would squack louder, the enormous parrots, or Sophie when they woke her up?). I parked myself and Willow on a bench and (unsafe parenting technique #26) tipped the stroller back so the handles leaned on the bench and Sophie's head wouldn't loll. I did lock the wheels so it wouldn't roll away. I wish umbrella strollers had a sleeping neck brace attachment or something. I digress. The boys played on the playground which was right next to the bird thing. All the other kids were quiet, but mine preferred to watch while active and probably disrupted things somewhat. What can I do? They really needed to get some physical activity in because the most strenuous thing they'd done at that point was help me make pancakes for lunch.

***Good parenting tip!!*** If your child wants REALLY BADLY to flip the pancakes with a spatula and you know it would not be beneficial for anyone to indulge this want, see if they'll go for a plastic plate with a few cooked flapjacks and their own spatula. The trick is you have to get them to stop banging their head on the floor and say happily, "Want to help Mama cook these?" If you're lucky like I was, not only will the child flip the pancakes about and be satisfied (pretty much), but maybe the child will also see the butter and say, "I like it, the butter," butter her own pancakes, take her plate and go turn on the tv, then sit on a quilt and eat quietly while watching "Spirited Away."

Back to the park by the pool. The poo l.

Maybe the bee that didn't come back yesterday (After giving its life up so that I could force benadryll and tylenol down my very pissed off screaming daughter's throat. Yes, some days it is all about me, sorry.) owed lots of the other bees money or maybe they were relocating or maybe it was voting day. It was something and they were swarming. All over the place. That finally convinced the boys that it was time to leave. They didn't even stop to beg at the vending machines.

After dropping the older kids off, John and Willow and I went home for dinner. She is getting interested in food. Wonder how long until she develops that reaching skill and gets herself some. Sophie's first food was peanut butter on wheat bread that she swiped from Lexy. Luckily she didn't have any peanut or wheat allergies. Again, digression. Tonight we had pita bread and cous cous in the tobuli way; cold, with mint and tomatoes and garlic and olive oil and parsley and whatever else and also the fabulous Trader Joe's Herb Salad Mix (the one with the crack, I meant Dill, in it) with avocado and Annie's Tuscan Dressing that is so good they should sell it with a straw taped to the side like a juice box.

Go look at this!!

John's picture is at the end of the article. I think the link won't get you there after 6th, when you'll need to access the archive for July 30th.

Night!

I was quickly reading through my ever-lengthening blog list when suddenly I heard Nate crying. It was about 1:15 am, so I figured he'd wet the bed. I was sort of right, I suppose.

He was in the kitchen near the sink and dishwasher, crying, and he'd just peed on the floor. These things happen when you leave the light on in the kitchen at night and not the bathroom. I don't know if he'd figured out where he even was. It was a painful cry though, so I asked him what was hurting. He said his heart hurt and then pointed to his cheekbone. Sinus headache? I offered him the hard stuff, Tylenol, but he just wanted to go back to bed. So I threw his brother's swim class beach towel down on the floor, which I know I'll be hearing all about tomorrow (eh I had to wash it anyway), cleaned his little legs off, washed his hands (that made him cry more) found a pair of underpants and put him back in bed. I laid next to him for a while to help him get to sleep. "Mama," he said, "what does camouflage mean?" I made sure I'd heard him correctly and then said it was when something looked like or blended in with its environment. I guess that was enough of an explanation for him, he started to snore.

I'm just glad he's done puking. Monday was a little messy. Messier.

We are within a hundred and fifty pages of finishing Harry Potter. I find that I readveryveryfastnowbecauseIwanttofinishitalready.

Here's my favorite pallindrome:
Nate bit a Tibetan.
I have visions of my child chomping on the Dali Llama, who I am fairly sure would find some humor in the situation.

Think I'll go finish reading about everyone elses' lives now. And sleep, sleep is needed, too.

Which John Cusack Are You?

Tonight I was reminded of a story that I want to share.

I was at my friend K's house after her eighteen year old son's funeral last fall. He died in a car accident. Her house was packed with his family and friends; he'd been a very fun and popular boy. Her only other child, five month old G, was in her arms and this is the story K told.

The night before the service, the baby would not sleep because she was teething. Every time K got her down, she'd be up again within minutes. Finally, somewhere around 3 am, K took the baby into the living room to walk her. She was furious and crying. Then she looked out her front window.

The night was misty and foggy and still. The low brick wall seperating the front yard from the sidewalk and driveway was lined in candles in glass votives and they were all lit. The candles hadn't been there when she went to bed, and when she saw them she thought it was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen. She said that the baby stopped crying and they looked together out at the tiny flames that nearly looked as if they were hovering in the fog above the ground. She kissed her daughter on her head and said aloud through her tears, "Thank you for letting me see this."

Thanks, John, for reminding me to include this part of the story. How could I forget?

The movie was near the end, and we were back near the seats. Sophie was playing in the aisle with a little nineteen month old girl, making me oh so proud by saying things like, "Bad Baby! You no touch my Wallow!" I kept apologizing to the baby's mother, but I'm sure she thought Sophie was just a horrid little brat.

Nate came over and said he had to pee. I left Sophie with John and walked Nate to the bathroom. He lingered a bit to catch the end and then we were off. As we walked into the lit area I noticed that his shorts were really really wet. We got into the bathroom and Willow smiled at herself in the mirror, which was cute, and I heard Nate say while he peed, "This is actually the third time I've peed here, but the first two times were in my seat."

Bad, bad, bad patrons that we are, we left without saying anything to the management. It did cross my mind, but getting out was frantic and before I knew it we were outside and I hadn't said anything. We got to the van and a guy in a super sized SUV decided to wait for our space. Hello, hi, yeah, those four kids with us will take awhile to get situated and you're better off cruising for another spot rather than wait for ours especially since we will take longer than normal in a silent protest of your vehicle and we'll also be laughing when we imagine someone sitting in Nate's seat and the look on their face when they realize that the sogginess is not water. And even gloating that we didn't have to pay for Nate because kids under 5 are free! Oh, we are so going to hell. Bad, bad patrons!

Tonight we went to see (GLASSES ON) Spy Kids 3D. We had fun, especially Sophie who got just the right amount of hits off my diet coke (oopsie) and was revved up enough to race around the movie theatre for the last 7/8ths of the show. The drill went like this; leave seat, run up side of theatre, turn left, run down hallway to doors, look through small crack in doors, open doors, go to lobby, find the Finding Nemo cardboard display, run to it, stand and yell "ELMO FRAID A DUH SHARKS!!!!! OH NO!! DUH SHARKS! AHHHHHHHHH!" while making cute sort of Home Alone faces, run down corridors past other theatres yelling "SHHHHHH!" with finger to lips, try to go up stairs to men's bathroom, get mad at mother for preventing this, find proper theatre again, yell "I FINDING PAPA!" and running to the seats to harass Papa, who looked too dang cute in his 3D glasses. I don't know about anyone else, but I'm exhausted. Of course, it took awhile for Lex to get to sleep and I had to read. Every big fat book that Sophie sees makes her point and yell, "Harry Potter!" Nate went right to sleep since he had gymnastics class, followed by swimming (he had to change in the car), followed by the movie. Where was I? Oh, yes. Tired. Night.

The baby who has already seen it all. . .

And an old one, cause I'm feeling sentimental about my oldest getting older



Now on to the complainy bits:
Sophie fell asleep in the car on the way to swim lessons. The stroller wasn't in the van. Willow still can't walk. So, I carried Willow in the sling and a wobbly, semiconcious Sophie on my hip, plus a smallish tote bag, three towels (because the boys made for the water before I could hand them stuff, grrrrrr) and a pair of shoes. It was 95 degrees, at least, and the air conditioner in the van is not conditioning the interior of the vehicle in a pleasing way. It is whimpily blowing warm air around, which makes me not only crabby because I'm hot, but also because I paid 150 bucks last month to fix it. Sophie started to wake up (ache up, as she says) and we were all looking forward to being there early and the promise of the sparkling cool baby pool. But, it was not to be. The baby pool was closed. Total tragedy. We had to wait over ten minutes, OH! MY! GOD! before the boys' lesson started and they could swim, which was stretched out further by Lexy asking, "How many minutes nooooowwwww?" every few seconds. Willow slept in the sling, but Sophie wouldn't stay in the limited shady areas, so I had to chase her around and try to cover Willow from the sun. Sophie occupied herself by poking the supermodel/lifeguard girl who was working on her tan (she makes Malibu barbie look like a troll, I swear), throwing other people's shoes into the pool (two successful throws out of about twenty tries), and angling for otter pops at the snack shack. She visited with a couple of little babies, patted two little dogs and put dead flowers in their water dish. She went to the pool, filled up a watering can, poured it out on the cement in front of the dogs and commanded, "EAT DOGGIES!!!" (When she wants to share my drinks she says, "Gimme bite a dat, pease") She ran out of the pool area, checked out the men's room, played at the water fountain and tried to get to the playground but was stopped by the unfortunate combination of blacktop and bare little soft toddler feet. She stood, unable to move, screaming, "HOT HOT HOT!!" until I ran over and rescued her. There were also lots of, "Watch me" calls from Nate, which I tried to fulfill. I was told by one woman several times that Willow was going to get overheated in the sling, well, she's practically naked, has no hair and I'm keeping her in the shade and turning her toward the breeze and she's sleeping, but sure, let me take your suggestion and wake her up so I can put her in a pool full of chlorine with no sunblock on to make her more comfie. I'm sure you know best!

We came home and ordered pizza and Sprite, the remains of which are covering a large portion of the kitchen, but oh well, it'll be there tomorrow, won't it! Got the kids bathed and brushed their teeth, so they could immediately go back to the kitchen and drink more Sprite. Yay! We love double teeth brushing nights! Everyone was in bed by 7:30. Sophie and Willow conked out by 8. Nate lasted, grumpily, until 10 and Lexy until nearly 12. We need to finish Harry Potter so he'll go to sleep at night and so I'll quit thinking to myself, "Ten points from Griffindor!" or "Twenty points for Griffindor!" when the kids do something awful or wonderful.

Willow learned to roll over today. Stomach to back. Yay, Willow! The first couple of times I missed the actual rolling part, but I finally was able to watch later and saw the whole thing. Remind me not to leave her laying around up high anymore. This actually sort of crimps my style; it's easy when babies don't roll because you can just set them anywhere while you tend to diaper emergencies or escaped toddlers. But, no more. She's a girl on the go. Nate and Lexy were quite impressed. They shouted, "She's doing Log Rolls!!" That's gymnastics lingo. Oh, I'm afraid I'm getting goofy tired. John and company performed at the Electronic Music Festival in San Francisco tonight. It's sort of surreal that he's off doing that while I'm home in the sweltering suburbs, dressed in boxer shorts and a tee shirt in a messy hot duplex, spending my evening convincing awake children that they really are tired while I scarf down chocolate covered espresso beans in an effort to not fall asleep before them, thus giving them the opportunity to make more mess and mischief.

Really, now, goodnight.

I did get some great pictures of Willow on Sunday. I'll put them up over the next few posts.

Here are two that John took, the iguana hanging out on the porch, and a shot of the cloudy sunset reflected in the window.




So tonight getting the kids to bed has been horrible. Sophie is up, again, lying on the floor next to me. She's got molars coming in, very slowly, and they hurt. Nobody wanted to fall asleep even though they all woke up much earlier than usual. Lexy wanted to read, Sophie and Willow went to sleep quickly, and Nate wanted to go watch tv. With me. He and Lex had a shrieking fit across me and the sleeping girls. They then were treated to some choice words from their mother, which quieted them a little. Neither one can resist those little one-liner jabs, though, and they kept up a quiet sniping argument. I was thinking to myself, "The rack, Chinese water torture, the Iron Maiden (torture device or the band, take your pick), stocks. HA! Those are nothing. This is torture!! I'll tell you anything you want, just for the love of Maude, make it stop!" Then I got to feeling a little guilty, since there are people really being hurt and tortured all over the place by governments and spouses and parents and other people who should be, in theory, their guardians and champions. That was depressing, and I sort of snapped out of it, remembered to be very grateful that my kids are healthy and happy and have the sharp wit required of that sort of exchange. I mean, they were making pretty complicated clear arguments and not just calling each other dufus and spitting. That's something to be proud of, right?

I should go try and get Sophie to sleep. She's being really sweet and is on my lap now, but I don't want her any crankier than necessary tomorrow.

I love Uncle Bob. The entry that just made me crack up is called "Assloads of Crap." I also love his stories about the in-laws.

Now, I'm really going to go read to Lex and make them some chicken noodle soup for lunch.

The boys have built a fort in the living room out of couch cushions and pillows. I love listening to them play.

I also love having a moment to myself -- Sophie is napping and Willow is sleepily nursing.

I have been listening to the newest Gillian Welch recording as often as I can.

Lexy really really wants to read. I'll go pay him some attention.

This was taken awhile back, but I was just thinking about what a great uncle my brother is. I also had a good talk with Lexy after the other kids went to sleep. We talked about how he misses me when he's with his dad and misses his dad when he's with me. But he is glad his dad and I don't fight anymore and he is happy to have his extra parents in his life, too. Somehow saying how you feel can help things seem better, even if not a single thing is changed by it. It's as if putting it in words frees it a little.

We are all looking forward to school starting. The next few weeks will be good, though. The boys have swimming this week and next. We go to a 4pm class and Sophie is allowed to play in the little wading pool, though mostly she just wants to socialize with the teachers who are out of the pool and try to score candy from the snack shack. Today she hung out in the snack shack with two girls and made funny faces at herself in a mirror on the floor and drank water from the cooler. Then she drew on the whiteboard with markers for awhile. Maybe tomorrow she'll swim again; it's really cute to see. (Note to self: CAMERA)

The boys also have gymnastics this summer. They started out in the same class, but on the teacher's advice I put Lexy in a class with kids closer to his age. He's happier and it gives the boys a break from each other a couple days a week. I think I may keep them in the class after school starts. They like it, it's not competitive, and when I can get them to practice at home it channels that energy that is otherwise spent stirring shit up. I should have them do yoga more regularly, too. They have mats, but only one video, "Yoga Kids," which is a good one. Anyone out there know of others?

I also want to make more of an effort to take Lexy to the library. Maybe Thursday he and I can sneak off for an hour. When we take Nate and Sophie it's impossible to focus on choosing books and we just sort of grab stuff and try to get them out before the other patrons start throwing the big fat dictionaries at us.

I know I complain about the heat, so I'll say that I'm grateful it's summer because my mom has been going to the farmer's market a lot and making amazing jam. Strawberry, blueberry, peach, white nectarine, grape, fig . . . And really, getting up to make breakfast for three kids who want totally different things from one another every day (I swear they have secret meetings, "Okay, you say pancakes, you say eggs and I'll go for chicken apple sausage and chamomile tea.") is made a whole lot more manageable when you get to have killer homemade jam on your toast and your sexy loving husband has left lots of coffee in the thermos for you.

1) DVD or VHS?
dvd

2) Best Literary/Movie Villan: Voldemort (Harry Potter) or Sauron (LoTR)?
I've read LTR and Harry P (almost done with 5) to Lexy this summer. I think the 'he who must not be named' thing makes Voldemort more fun. Is that a good villan quality?

3) Meat: rare or well-done?
Uncooked so it can sustain the living animal that it belongs on.

4) High Speed Internet-Cable or DSL?
whatever is cheaper

5) Women: 1-piece bathing suit or Bikini?
maybe someday

6) To be fair--Men: Boxers or briefs?
boxers

7) Beer or Liquor/Wine?
Candy is dandy but liquor is quicker. That said, I don't really drink much. Maybe a couple times a year.

8) Coke or Mountain Dew?
coke

9) In honor of my 10/18/03 nuptials: Morning or Afternoon/Night Wedding?
afternoon, more time to have a party afterward without making everyone get up early

10) Carpet or Hardwood Floors
wood

11) American cars or foreign?
foreign

12) Cutest TV Twin: Mary-Kate or Ashley Olsen?
huh?

13) Coffee: Caffeinated or Decaf?
surely you jest

14) Thought-Provoking Question of the Week: Computers: Do they make life better or worse? Why?
Better. If you can keep things balanced.

Here are this month's (so far) Google hits. Bizarre, to say the least.


not calm dot com 12 times
play boy www dot com 3 times
finding nemo birthday cakes 2 times
jenijen 2 times
link:http://compleatmother.com/ 1 time
mimi smartypants 1 time
kathleen yearwood 1 time
feng shuei bedroom 1 time
scanned photos of pampers diapers 1 time
nudist hike photos 1 time
mamagathering 1 time
crayon dryer drum 1 time
carsick cat remedies 1 time
jc penny ballet outfit 1 time
homebirth video movie 1 time
tylenol codeine ireland 1 time
farmers market casuality list 1 time
breakfast sedative mistress 1 time
gripewater 1 time
is brownie batter supposed to be thick or runny 1 time
blogspot daughter heart surgery 1 time
muddy stained tshirt 1 time
no socks and pelvic exam 1 time
remedies to take clorox accident spots off clothes 1 time
cash register cabinet 1 time
pictures of babies delivered by vaccum 1 time
banana slugs and tshirt 1 time
kragens haircut 1 time
oneil bathing suit photos 1 time
banana slug buddy icon 1 time
teknofreq

Cover your ears.
Ieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Okay, just needed to scream a little. Sophie has become totally unmanageable. I need help.

John is performing Thursday night in San Francisco (with his brother and friends) at the Electronic Music Festival. Look here, they're named Irr.App.(ext). If you're in town, go! Wish I could.

Time to go clean up. The home health nurse is coming to check on Willow tomorrow. I have some resentment issues about it all. It feels to me like the county bureaucrats think if your child is on MediCal because you're low income someone needs to make sure you aren't a neglectful parent. All the nurse does is weigh and measure and check on development. We do all that with our pediatrician (who does not take MediCal, so I just pay him cash because I don't like the icky clinics that are part of the local system and I don't want Willow to be taken care of by doctors who seem bored and busy and think the way our family lives is "weird"). Am I overreacting? Do they do this with parents with 'real' health insurance? Is it because John and I don't have any health insurance? Tomorrow should be the last home visit.

Think I'll go read Harry Potter to Lexy and clean up when it starts to cool off later. It will cool off later, right? This heat is killing me. I wouldn't mind so much if I weren't covered in children all day.

New links!! Get clicking.

One more thing to worry about . . .

Sophie was pounding on the littlest rat snake's cage and saying, "Sake ouuuut. Sake ouuuuuut. Sake hungee." I just hope she never opens the python's cage; he's a good eight or so feet long.

We're getting a new tarantula tomorrow.

Goodnight.

It's my blogaversary! One year I've been doing this. In the past year I got married, I got pregnant (not in that order, though), I got very very sick and almost had an extremely premature baby, I had a placental abruption and had a seven week premature baby, John's job situation got changed and rearranged, Lexy completed kindergarten, lost his first two baby teeth, learned to read and broke his arm, Nate had to be put under general anesthesia twice so his eyes and teeth could be operated on, Sophie became a little girl instead of a baby, my grandfather died, my other grandfather's sister died . . . and so many other things. It's hard to believe what all can happen in a year. I'm excited for what the next year will bring, and hoping that it is less dramatic. We could use a little down time in this family to catch up with ourselves and do little project type things and whatnot instead of frantically trying to arrange childcare because the mom is in the hospital, again.

I am really looking forward to fall, and winter, to Willow getting a little older (which leaves me conflicted because I LOVE having a little baby and she's the last one) so I can have a bit more time to do things like take a shower when I want and clean the house and make soup and maybe even work on some craft things I'd like to try and take more yoga classes. Perhaps I'll get organized. That's a huge fantasy of mine. Maybe this year the boys (please dear universe let it happen) will wean from the family bed and Sophie from nursing. I have been breastfeeding for almost seven straight years; the only days I haven't were when I was hospitalized and even then I pumped almost every day.

Now it's time to go brave the heat so we can get beverages from Trader Joes. Lexy said that the worst thing about it being hot outside is that everyone is thirsty so there's nothing left in the fridge to drink. Amen to that, little man. I'll have cold bubble water in the fridge when you get home tonight.

Also, I just read a really great novel by Joe Lansdale called A Fine Dark Line. It takes place in East Texas in the fifties. A must read if you are from the south or love a great story told without cliches (that is so important to me; I use them all the time, but I hate reading them, it distracts me from the story).

I was reading Harry Potter to Lexy tonight and we came across the word 'irreversible.' He stopped me and asked what it meant. I did that thoroughly annoying parent game of, "Well, what does reversible mean?" He said, "Something that can go back." And I said, "Okay, so what is irreversible then?" He was laying on his back on the bed and he put both hands on his ears and looked at me and said, "When both your ears go back?" Why is it that when kids say stuff like that it becomes clear just how much you really really love them?

Today was hard. It's been really hot here and we have no air conditioning. I'm not up to taking the kids to any of the various indoor places by myself; most are too expensive or have video games everywhere or are too big and I can't keep track of Nate and Sophie easily. So we've been sitting home in the boring heat watching videos and getting on each other's nerves. Lexy and I got into a pretty big argument and he got right in my face and started yelling about how mean I was acting. I really laid into him. I yelled at him. For a long while. And, for the rest of the day he was so well behaved it scared me. I hate it when things like that work so well. It tempts me to do it again, even though I know the behavior, while what I wanted, was not coming from the motivation I'd like. I want the kids to be kind and not punch each other because that's how they feel, not because they are afraid of me yelling or whatever. Frankly, I don't see that yelling all the time teaches anyone about compassion, even though the yelling may be perfectly justified.

For me the hardest thing about parenting is that I have a plan that I think is pretty good, but I have a hard time sticking to the plan when I'm mad. They can get me so worked up so quickly. I try to keep that in mind, and apply it to judging their behavior as well. For instance, when Nate is bugging Lexy and Lexy's response is a hard kick to Nate's back, I have to think about how furious Nate can make me and what I might do if I had the impulse control of a six year old boy. Then I think that my job is not only to get Lexy to be less violent, but to point out to Nate that he was provoking his brother, and try and teach Lexy that when he's being provoked like that he should immediately move away before his anger gets the better of him. Of course, at the same time Sophie has crawled up on the stove and is eating salt and looking for butter and Willow is spitting up all over the carpet and down my back and in my hair and Nathan is trying to bite Lexy for kicking him. . . you see the problem. I need a whole team to handle these children in the way I want. So generally Lexy will just get a short yelling at about hurting others, (It's never okay to hurt your brother) and I'll tell Nate to quit bugging people and that will be it. Maybe we should do like Lexy does at school and have family meetings. His school has class meetings. There's a clipboard by the door and if you have an issue with a rule or a person you put your name on the list. Then, during the meeting you get to say your piece and the whole class works on a solution. The theory is that if the kids come up with the solution or rule they're more likely to stick by it. Because it's theirs and makes sense to them.

How did it get so late?

This is eerily familiar. Ha!

And, I wanted to link to another site, but I am not getting the live journal thing. The address seems to be hidden and I can't get it to pop up. Hmmmm. If you go to the comments on the 16th of July and go to the first comment and click website, you'll get there. I'd like to add a permanent link but I'll need help. When it comes to computers, I am such a geek in the wrong way.

Everyone but me is snoring away. We ordered pizza for dinner (how happy am I to have discovered a place that delivers 3 medium pizzas for $20??!) and John and M walked over to safeway and came home with a box of Dr Pepper. A box. I drank two and will most likely be awake for most of the rest of my life. I can drink coffee at bedtime and still fall asleep, but the Dr is keeping me up.

It is way too hot. The trusty van thermometer said 101 while I sat waiting for the boys to get out of their gymnastics class. While they were there I took the girls to what USED TO BE *ahem* a fabulous thrift store. They had crap. And about four hundred baskets on rows and rows of shelves. They had a deal going on, fill up a grocery sack and purchase all the contents for two bucks. We left with only one old (late sixties, early seventies) toy that seems very familiar. I think we had one when I was little. It was a busybox thing with the dials and buttons and whatnot. They didn't even charge us for it. All I want is a stinkin' crock pot (to make soap in) and a pair of jeans that I can craftily sew into capri pants. I wanna do crafty little projects and kid myself into believing that I have time to do them. I borrowed my mom's sewing machine months ago to make baby shoes. Have I done more than cut out the fabric? NO. I just look longingly at the sewing machine when I walk past it and sometimes I point at it and say, "I'll be seeing you later, handsome." But I'm all talk, apparently.

However, Sunday is coming up and maybe while the big ones are at their dad's I'll create something. Or sleep. Sleep is good, too. Will I be tired by Sunday?

Willow is getting cuter and cuter. I need to do a little photo session with her. Maybe that's what I'll do sunday; the baby, the camera, black and white film, natural light. I think that could happen.

How could I have almost forgotten???? Look (if the link works) at this. Number 0136. That's my honey and Sophie with Ayun Halliday. Yay!

The ride home. I have been trying to forget most of it, because it was not a stellar day. The van kept stalling and we discovered it stalled less with the air off. We had to drive most of the 95 degree plus afternoon without the AC on, and I sat in the way back between the girls' car seats. The boys bickered, the baby cried, Sophie tantrumed. Ah well, at least the van always started up after the stalls.

It took quite some time to get home (Northern CA is so much greener than southern, I appreciate that more now) and when we did there were two thin envelopes from the bank. For me. Uh oh. Seems that the (large) check I deposited on July 3rd had a hold put on it until July 8th. That information was contained in the second letter I opened. (which came, by the way, on July 11th. And this is helpful how???) The first letter was to let me know that three checks, which came in on the 7th, had bounced and that the fee for that was $45. I guess they want to keep it a secret from the customer when they hold funds because those $15 fees add up quickly. I think it all had something to do with the holiday, but why couldn't they have just held or covered those checks from the 7th, seeing that on the 8th there would be more than enough to cover them? I hate things like that.

But, the trip was worthwhile anyhow. If we get to go next year we WILL NOT be bringing the children. Except for Willow.

So today I'm feeling a little bit tense. It is very very hot and our house is too warm and messy. It's too hot to clean up and everyone is testy. Nathan had a forty five minute screaming crying fit because he wanted a glass of milk in the cup that Lexy was using. I tried to calmly explain that it wouldn't be fair for me to take the cup from his brother just because he wanted it, that I wouldn't take a cup from him if Lexy asked me to, and that he needed to use another cup, and that the issue was the drink, not the container. He just screamed and cried for the cup. I had to leave the room and tell one of the little innocent stuffed animals on the bed, "It's only a fucking CUP!!!! Get over it! Drink the milk from another cup or I'm going to just pour the whole gallon of it on your head you horrid little brat!" After that I felt a little better, and then Lexy caved and gave him the cup to shut him up. Great, now he'll be employing that tactic even more often.

In a few minutes I have to take the boys to gymnastics class. I think I'll take the girls and run over to the nearby thrift store that I used to love and haven't been to in ages. I want to look for clothes that fit me and a crock pot. Also a strawberry huller. I'll probably end up with something totally different, which is the real fun of thrift store shopping anyhow.

I'll try to put myself into a better mood.

click if you need to laugh so hard you nearly pee

(nicked from Womanchild)

I forgot lots of things about the drive down, but the thing I can't believe I forgot to include was what happened friday morning as I was getting us all ready to go. I filled up the dishwasher with soap and turned it on. I left the kitchen. I came back to the kitchen about thirty seconds later. Sophie had turned off the dishwasher, opened the door, gotten a handful of soap into her mouth and was making a stink face and saying, "Yuk, I no like it. Yukie." The man at poison control was really nice. She didn't throw up or start drooling (a sign that her throat was irritated and she couldn't swallow properly) and she didn't say her mouth hurt, so I guess she didn't get enough to hurt her. I don't know why she does these things. I used to wonder who ever thought to try eating mushrooms or yoghurt or artichokes for the first time since they don't seem like they'd be any good. Now I know it was Sophie's kindred spirits, expanding the culinary horizons for all. When Nate was little he called detergent "sugar." He'd say, "Mama, let me put the sugar in the wetter!" The wetter is what the clothes go into (with sugar) before you put them into the dryer. Maybe she had the same idea.

So, the mamagathering. Saturday there were three workshop sessions. I had planned to attend three, but only made it to one; Ayun Halliday's, and if I was only going to get to go to one, that's the one I'd pick. Wait, we did make it to the second one, but we left after a short time because I knew that Sophie needed to nap and wanted to try and get the boys to at least lie down for a bit. The kids were in the childcare room and made friends with a really cool boy from New York. His mom, Kristen, (also very cool) recognized us from reading our blogs. Hi, Kristen!

So we all went upstairs and napped (sort of) and John went off to the third workshop alone after dropping the boys back at childcare. The girls and I snoozed a bit and I read more of the latest Harry Potter. The boys decided they didn't want to be in the childcare because their friend wasn't there (napping also) and so they came back to the room with John. He then went alone again to hear the rest of the workshop. When he came back we all went to the beach. The boys have lost their fear of the ocean. They ran and yelled as loud as they could, trying to outrun the surf and then they'd stand with their backs to the ocean and look at their feet as the water rushed back out and try not to get dizzy and topple over. The water was really warm and nice and a giant jellyfish, bigger than a pie tin, washed up on shore. Even after it went back out with the tide, Lexy didn't want to play in the water anymore. We had a party to get to, so we spent a stupid amount of time packing up and changing and whatnot to go there. I was glad I brought stuff so we wouldn't have to go back to the Cruddy Suites Hotel, we had no time. It was funny, I spent quite a bit of my energy and time yelling at the boys (because they were being horrid little trolls and not letting me have the relaxing fun time I deluded myself into believing I'd have on this trip) and Lexy did the greatest thing at the beach. He picked up our trash, and then he grabbed someone else's trash, not a someone we know, just the trash of random strangers, and he hiked it over to the garbage bins and threw it all away. It may seem like a little thing, but I was so damn proud of him. For all I feel like I do wrong as a parent, I'll take that as a sign I'm doing something right, too.

The party was fun. The food was good and there were great things to buy and look at and, of course, lots of wonderful people to visit with. I got to briefly talk with Kristen, which was fun but too short, and the woman sitting near us assumed we were sisters. (That made my day; she's really pretty and as all our Grandmas would say, has a lovely figure!) The boys played with their friend, J. and we got to meet Ayun Halliday and Inky and Milo. (Yes, I acted like a total goober which I hope she knows means that I'm a big fan!) Ayun's husband Greg was there, too. He co-wrote Urinetown.

I'll stop here. John is home and needs to sleep so he can go have a buggy morning. Night!

This has nothing to do with my trip. I was just catching up on my blog reading and I saw a link to it on Katia's blog. I love stuff like that!

The minivan, bless its little metal heart, has lots of cupholders. That's a selling point, you know, the cup holderness of it. In the third row of seats where the girls and I sat on the drive there are not one, but two, two cupholders built into each side. They are shaped to hold round and rectangle shaped drinks (think juice box) and look like they'd hold a commuter mug full to the top of coffee. And hold that cup those cup holders will. Until the van turns, at which point coffee will be spilled, make that dumped, upside down on top of the backpack/diaper bag which is full of things like diapers and white baby sun hats. Stuff will get ruined and the mom will cuss and everyone will have to endure going back home for a spare diaper bag. Grrrrrrr.

The drive to Los Angeles was somewhat comical, unless you happened to actually be in the car. If you were one of the lucky few it was pretty painful. Lots. Of. Traffic. Very. Slow. Going. The items I packed for the children to play with were amusing for about twenty minutes. I brought crayons and tons of paper for Sophie, who loves to draw. She chewed the tip off the crayon and threw paper everywhere when she wasn't busy biting, pinching and scratching me. Why draw when you can hassle mama? The kids complained and whined and cried because we didn't get there in the first ten minutes. When we passed Casa De Fruitta on highway 152 Nathan said, "Is that Los Angeles?!!?" That was my favorite bit.

The van stalled on highway 5. Now if you aren't familiar with that bit of road, I'll fill you in. It is long and straight and flat and flanked by cows, crops and the occasional gas station. We needed to travel on it for over 200 miles, one indistinguishable from the next. It is a bad place to get stuck, an unthinkable place to get stuck with kids. Luckily, the problem seemed to be the same one that we thought had been fixed, and after a few minutes we were able to continue. I said we ought to go home, but John thought not, and we headed on south. We drove and drove and around 11 pm the kids were finally all asleep. I climbed up front and we went over the Grapevine and through Angeles National Forest. For some reason I kept thinking about Steve Martin and that this was where he lives, in Los Angeles. We got closer to the hotel and passed exits for Mullholland Drive and Wilshire Blvd. and Sunset Blvd. Hey, Ventura Blvd! That's in a Tom Petty song. (isn't it frightening to peek into my mind and see how dull it can be??)

Our hotel was ROTTEN. NO FRidge??! HELL-0!! And, the AC was so weak I could have cooled the room off better by blowing, but I was too tired. We got there after 1 am. The room was as far away as possible. Really. It was on the furthest corner of the topmost floor. We had a stunning view of the airport. Who designed the enormous phallic things that stand around the highway that's never slow and slowly change colors? Sophie loves you. She stood on an arm of a chair at the window saying, "I like it, the colors. The colors. I like it." And that was before she had some of the hemp oil lollipop that tasted like, well, HEMP! Yikes. I need to sleep, I'll write more later on.

Too much to do. (if I were the Artist, formerly known as Prince, I'd say, "2 much 2 do" but that is 2 silly.) The van is all fixed up, so assuming I can put Willow down long enough to pack, we'll go to Los Angeles on Friday. I have tons to do before we go; laundry and shopping and car tidying and packing. I need to get the kitchen less sticky so no ants move in because it's going to be really hot while we're gone and that seems to drive them inside. Need to call and put the newspaper on hold, and fill the hummingbird feeder and John has to feed the animals and bugs, call all fourteen parents for next week's camp and go get cash at the bank. The ATM ate his card when Sophie distracted him from taking it out. He has to wait for a new one to come in the mail.

So, we hope to have a fun trip. I think I'll go put batteries in the Leap Pads;it's going to be a long drive. (leap pads are those little computer book things I generally think are an inferior way to learn stuff, but they should keep the kids from whining too much.)

I feel like I have lots to say tonight!

Today we did indeed get to Berkeley, though the van did that thing it did on the Portland road trip, which was to just stall on the freeway. It clearly does not care about our safety one iota. John took the blessedly nearby off ramp where we quietly rolled to a stop. Luckily we had some downhill momentum and left over freeway speed to get us sort of in a good place. It was very scary for a moment when he declared that we had no brakes and there were a few cars right in front of us. We did have brakes, just not power brakes, I think. We ended up right past a stop sign, but still not far enough from the freeway for my liking. A man (also in a minivan) who had been going the other way, turned around and drove alongside us to make sure we had a cell phone. Chivalry is alive in Oakland! Just like before, after a few minutes we were able to go on. We took surface streets (funny term, that, like the freeway is floating or underground and the city streets are on the surface) from Oakland to Berkeley.

I didn't do the things I thought I really wanted to do before the play, but I had a good time so I guess I just hadn't realized what I wanted to do. We went to a comic book store (I don't ask too many questions about things, I just go) to see a comic book person who was too busy talking to a couple of other comic book people to sign comic books for John. But, some of our favorite Friends and Relations were at the comic book store so that was good. We all went to eat in this neato place that was very big and also very hot. We had what was possibly the most awful conversation to have while eating. I'd relate it here, but I'd get nauseated all over again. Then we went to Moe's and Cody's (bookstores) and I got How To Raise Your Spirited Child, which I'm hoping will give me a better idea of what to do with my child who is far too "spirited" lately, and a stack of activity books to take in the car when we drive to LA this Friday, assuming the van gets repaired. I got one of those "Brain Quest" card things which is not something I can in good conscience give to my kids. A friend of mine who sends her child to Waldorf school said they were fun. I was astounded to see that the first question is a picture of a computer and the question, "Where is the mouse in this picture?" Another wanted the child to identify the cell phone compared to other kinds of phones. Ick. I plan to return it, and go to all those places I didn't get to go to today, later this month.

After the bookstores we went to the record store, and I can say record store because they have lots of vinyl there. We walked from the record store to the play and passed all the cool street vendors. I saw the sweetest little knit pilot style caps and wanted to get one for Willow, but we didn't have time to stop. Next time!! Because she needs another hat, you know, twenty is not enough for a girl on the go like little Willow.

The play was very enjoyable, and I got to see the whole thing because Willow slept and nursed and didn't make a peep. Her peeps would have been quite disruptive, given how the play was set up. I wish I had a photo of the interior of the building. It's wonderful and old and the floors are tile, the ceilings two stories high, and the women's bathroom has an old wooden sign on the door reading, "powder room." The little things make my day, you know? The play was in a rectangle of a room that had a fireplace at one end and a door at each end of the long wall we sat against. The other long wall was windowed, and had french doors leading to a patio. The glass in the doors and windows was old. I LOVE old glass. Love it. LOVE it love it LOVE it. Sorry. Anyway, the seats line both the long walls, with gaps where the doors are, and the short wall across from the fireplace. The three actresses use all the space and go in and out of the doors and up and down the room. The effect of this is wonderful, because it feels like you're a fly on the wall instead of an "audience," and the lack of a stage makes things more realistic. They also let you have cookies and coffee. So, if you're in the area, GO!! And be sure to listen to all the sounds; John's brother is hiding behind a cupboard making them and designing them and whatnot.

We made it home without any more stalling. It was bizarre when the van did break down, because it was eerily similar to a dream I had once that still upsets me. In the dream I was driving up a super only-in-a-dream steep freeway and my car stalled. I went flying down the hill backward. Today when the van stalled we were on a section of freeway at the base of a sort of steep overpass with no shoulder. Needless to say, we were happy not to have stalled there. Uphill, no shoulder. What stellar planning that was! This week we'll get the van serviced. It wouldn't be good to get stuck on highway 5 going to LA. Lexy would flip out, and that would be worse than the problem at hand.

I didn't get to shop for clothes today or eat at the cafe we like so much or go to the stained glass place where my mom got the coolest necklace ever for under ten bucks. We didn't get to stop at any of the street vendors, either. So, we'll go back soon and do all that. John also wants to go to the gimongus bug and reptile store. Because we need more creepy crawlies, you know!

Went to my mom's for dinner to celebrate my brother's birthday. She made a wonderful meal that looked great on her new plates. Dessert was this divine fig and mascarpone tart with homemade vanilla ice cream. Yum.

Tomorrow we are going to go to Berkeley. I am in desperate need of a day like I hope tomorrow will be. The last two have been trying, to say it nicely. I plan to hold hands with my honey and stroll and not yell at anyone or grit my teeth so hard I get a headache. Instead I'll look in the bookstore for Raising Your Spririted Child and some activity books for our car trip next week, and try to find some inexpensive clothes that actually fit and check out a stained glass place and look for a mini ice cube tray at the crate and barrel outlet on 4th street for Sophie. In her world ice is valid currency and I'd like to be able to buy myself a few minutes here and there without having to smash big ice cubes, stress-releasing though it may be. I need to keep my eyes open for baby gifts, too. I need a few. All my friends and relations are reproducing. Hmmm, not any relations, actually, I've just been reading (and listening to the audio tapes at nighttime) too much Winnie the Pooh. It says, when Rabbit is trying to Push Pooh out of the Doorway in which he has become Wedged, that Rabbit and all his Friends and Relations tried to get Pooh Unstuck. I get things like that stuck in my head and I find they float around in there until I use them a few times. Hopefully, the phrase, "Don't go there," will get unstuck soon. I feel sort of uneasy whenever I hear myself say it. Also hoping the annoying, "So not (whatever)" departs as well.

Nate is demanding me.

I was reading a post on the Tickles in NY page about the ice cream truck, and it reminded me of something I was thinking of blogging about the other day but didn't. Then I thought that I could have a whole blog of stuff I was going to blog about but forgot, but then the train of thought got a little too complicated for a summer day so I abandoned it.

The ice cream man who came to the neighborhood when I was little drove a brown sort of UPS like truck. It was probably much smaller than I remember it. He had his name painted on the sides, "Everett's Ice Cream," in a circle. He always wore a short sleeved button down shirt, and he had short hair and glasses. 1950's scientist sort of glasses. He was missing an arm (his right) that he'd lost in the second world war. He was nice to all the kids, and took a lot of crap from the bully types who would make fun of anyone for anything. He must have stopped coming around when I was a teenager, because I didn't notice it. Why do we have to be like that as teenagers? Is everyone?

I spent the Fourth trying to catch up on laundry. I know it is a pipe dream, but I get all excited about it every so often and launder like there's no tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll be trying to put everything away, a job I detest. Washing, folding, fine. Putting away, ick. The children played in the sand box (thanks to John for getting it all spruced up with new sand) and watched a movie and played quiddich (pretended to fly on brooms) and we, of course, read some of Harry Potter (book four), because every thirty seconds Lexy asked if we could read more of it. I started on the fifth book alone and Lexy is supremely pissed off at me. He says it's unfair. I keep telling him that life is not fair, and that I want to read it without the constant interruptions. Last time Nathan asked five times in two pages who Cedric was. I was patient with him, but it was difficult. I'm loving it so far. (To anyone wondering how I have time to read, it's because of Willow. She saves my sanity by making me sit and nurse and sometimes I read while nursing her.)

John spent today rehearsing for another performance this month, which I'll link to when I know the website. Tomorrow he'll be at the Children's Museum with the bugs. And Sunday we are going to escape to Berkeley where the weather and the places and the people are so much cooler than here. I have a little shopping agenda, and a food agenda and we are going to see a play that John's brother is working on. I have no clue what it is. That's okay. We are going out and the laundry cannot follow us.

Speaking of going out, we took Willow to a movie the other day. She has now been to see Current 93, has been on a road trip to Portland, has gone for hikes in the woods and attended a zombie movie. I wouldn't have let her look, but she slept the whole time anyway. I, surprisingly, liked the movie. A lot. The soundtrack was kind of rock and rollish in a good way, and really added to things. It was eerie and scary as all get out though, and when it was over all my muscles felt weird from being tensed up so long. If you go see it, don't bring popcorn; you won't be able to remember to eat it. I need to go sleep.

Happy Birthday to my little brother. He is thirty now. Why does that make me feel so old???

Another thing, I read on a link on Uffish that the man who owns Anthropologie has donated all kinds of money to Rick Santorum. So, now I don't think I want to shop there no matter how much I like the stuff. I'm too fat and poor for most of the clothes anyhow. How's that for sour grapes??

Being a vegetarian, I have a tough time giving the kids hot dogs. Nate loves them. A lot. So I occasionally get him the Niman Ranch (ugh, navagating that web site upset my stomach) hot dogs. About the only thing worse than watching Nate and Soph eat those things tonight, was Soph sort of urping hers up in the bed, the family bed, at 2 am. That stench, the horror, the horror.

How wrong is it that John has never seen Apocalapyse Now and won't get that reference?

Speaking of references, who reprogrammed Dennis Miller?? Scroll down to The political Comic. Now, I've heard vague rumors that he was getting consertative, but chummy with Bush? Yikes! I take back every time I ever laughed at his jokes.

I'm happy about lots of other things, though. I'll share a couple lest you get the wrong impression. Lavender plants. D gave me eight of them. The kind I wanted, which is very important and amazing considering how many varities there are. Yay, D!

Mimi Smartypants posted a paragraph about the fabulous Annie's Tuscan Style Salad Dressing. I had to laugh, becuase Trader Joes sells it for $1.99 and I buy two bottles every Wednesday when we shop there. I put it on the Herb Salad Mix, which has dill in it. I can't seem to eat it often enough. I get really happy when there are good cherry tomatoes and fresh mozerella and avocado in the fridge, too.

The weather is wonderful again. All that one hundred degree stuff was awful. So un-California!

John is home and needs to check his email. Goodnight.

Oh, heavens, the spell check won't load. I apologize and curse the new blogger.