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but picture this: Sophie and Willow flat on their backs on the grass in the front yard. Both are looking up at the sky and the leaves. They're aimlessly swinging their arms and kicking; just moving a little. Sophie says, "Willow?" Willow says, "What?" Sophie says, "Pa-member that I am always here for you." Willow says, "Okay, Sophie. Pa-member."
Tonight was the pilates/yoga class. The woman who taught was subbing for the regular guy, the one who brings us tomatoes from his garden. She was good, but a little California new agey for me. During the cooldown/relaxing she was talking to us about emotions and forgiveness and other things I didn't hear because I was busy concocting possible scenarios for seasons four and five of Six Feet Under (which I haven't started watching yet, but obviously I need to because I am so dependent and is there a twelve step program for me to join after I'm done with season five and all the dvd extras?) and also thinking about how during most of the class what I was mostly thinking, besides, 'hmmmmm, I don't think I like the pilates part of this,' was how hard it is to not fart. I can meditate and be serious about the spiritual side of yoga with the hippiest of the hippie, however, when you are practicing yoga at a health club and every time you bend forward (often in yoga, case you wondered) you are putting your butt in the face of everyone on the treadmills, bikes and complicated machines that I can't use because they'll probably just make me pee, it's hard to get to that space. Oh well.
When I came home the big kids had already been dropped off from their dinner visit with their dad. Sophie sat at the table with me, eating pasta. She began by asking questions about chicken eggs, chicks and chickens. Turns out she had a grand master plan involving chickens, a backpack, and outer space travel. She determined that since chickens don't have arms, she could put some in a backpack, where they would be unable to escape because they would not be able to operate the zipper. Then she make them fly while she was wearing the backpack. We talked about chicks and chickens. She said that she wanted to eat all the chickens, but keep the chicks in a cave, or a cage, whichever, and sometimes she would carry them around in her pocket to enjoy the high cute factor inherent in the fluffy chick.
Near the end of the chicken conversation, she stopped and looked at me. 'Where were you, Mama?' she asked. I told her that I was at yoga class. She said, 'Did you take off your shoes and say HIIII-YA!?'
I cracked up and almost had a pasta out the nose event. 'No,' I told her, 'it was yoga, you know, like on your Yoga Kids tape.' The lightbulb went on over her little head. I continued, 'we did the some poses you know, like child's pose, cat, cow and down dog.' She got really excited and smiled at me. 'Did'ja geta sing the MamaStay song, too?' 'Oh yeah,' I said, 'that was the best part.' 'Good mama, she said, that's good.'
The boys were so excited to go to school this morning that Nate slept in his socks and then woke up and put his shoes on before his pants, and Lexy got completely dressed before getting up out of bed. They are funny. I wasn't permitted to walk Lexy to his class, and when I kissed Nate on the cheek near his classroom he said, 'What'ja do THAT for??'
I got a little teary outside Nate's room. I like his teacher though; she gave each kid a sticker on their way in the door and said she wanted either a handshake or a high-five as they walked in. Of course Nate gave her a high-five, with a jump.
In a bit we will go check out Sophie's new preschool. I know her teacher, since it's the same program Lex was in, but I haven't seen the new campus, which Miss T told me is much better than the old site. She starts tomorrow, and I figure it would be good if I could find the place!
because I'm looking at coverage of the hurricane. Grace links to this blog, and there's also Coleen, who hasn't updated this month, but you may know her from HipMama. I have to admit, that with us not having tv and being out with the kids all day, I had no idea how massive this hurricane was. I suppose all we can do from here is hope that the reports are exaggerated, and help as best we can afterward.
I love it so very much when other people do my work for me! Here are some pictures *which I didn't even take myself* and this is what we did today. Goodnight. Must go rest since school starts tomorrow. Can you picture my streaming tears of pure joy? Well, I'll miss my boys. I won't miss the bickering at all though.
Sophie (in the fairy wings) and a friend's daughter eating cake at our wedding. October of 2002.
I have nothing today. Here are links:
if you were a child in the seventies, you can't not click here
pandora, your personal radio station
time to go. the monitor is flickering again. we got a new one, but have been to sillybusy to get cables
I can feel autumn coming just by the light lately. I swear when I think about it I get butterflies in my stomach. I remember when I was maybe eleven or twelve we were in San Francisco in September or October. The way the sky was the crispest, brightest blue against the concrete and brick buildings, it just made me stare with my mouth open. Isn't autumn really the beginning of the year? Isn't it everyone's favorite time?
We went to the park last night to celebrate my step-dad's birthday. Most of the family was there, and it was good to see everyone. The kids played until after sunset, and came home dirty and tired.
I have six kids here today. They're dancing and building forts and playing with the dollhouse. Two of them are building a castle with precut wooden pieces. We have cookies and milk and juice. I have coffee. It's not hot outside. I cleaned the kitchen and bathroom and the girls' room. Things are good.
I made a decision about our lightly-tended back yard. I decided to fix it up so that we can enjoy it more, because now that Willow is not plain two, but two *and a half* my life has gotten more flexible. A little more, anyhow. I try and do something daily, or bidaily or weekly (ahem) to get to the main goal of being able to enjoy my coffee on the patio without fear of anyone impaling themselves, escaping or stepping on something that may cut a foot. Above all, I have a need to feel safe from bird shit and pine tree sap (ever have that land on your head? if you do, DON'T TOUCH IT AND THEN RUB YOUR EYES).
I have done small things. Today I hosed off the front porch and doorway, to brighten the entry into our home. I swept and put some toys away. I have thrown away lots of stuff, including an eighty dollar toy (yeah. dude. I know. It gets worse.) that was not played with EVER because when the birthday boy got it he stomped on it and broke it. It took me about five years to finally let go. Yes, of course I tried to fix it, several times. Deep breath, inhale, exhale the pissyness. Better. Only, not. grrrrrrr
I cleared off and cleaned up a baker's rack that my friends left here when they moved out four years ago. I found lots of pots and badgered John into going to home despot for herbs with Willow and me. I couldn't face it alone, and I'm glad I didn't. She saw those endless rows with the smooth floor and kept pointing and shouting, "GO DERR! DAT WAAAY!" There was dramatic flinging onto the floor, and at least one very false cry of "WAH!" But now we have delphinium, basil, ornamental peppers, rosemary, chocolate mint, tri colored sage and I think that is all. The girls helped me plant, then they played with the dump truck and some potting soil, which, doesn't that have shit in it?? They had a bath.
I have to sleep. But first, the van!! Yes with !!'s John and I looked at our bank accounts and I was puzzled, because I know that school starts and we need to get stuff for the boys, but I couldn't see how to make that happen in a way that would also allow us to eat. Or at least, eat like we want to. I had a swell idea that instead of being a good citizen and donating the van, I could list it on craigslist dot org, just to see if anyone was interested. The list of what is wrong with it was longer than the perks, but oh. my. golly. Within half an hour of listing I had NINE emails begging me to sell them the van. I contacted the first guy to respond. He's a mechanic at a dealership for the same company that makes the van. He's going to fix it up so his wife can drive it. Right on!! He wins with the super duper bargain and the access to discounted parts, and I can eat the good cheese and buy the boys more jackets to lose! YAY The coolest part? I listed it at about 8pm, and we had the cash by 10pm. And the guy lives about twenty miles or so away. Craigslist dot org is my new boyfriend.
If I had ten minutes of babysitting time for every time I was asked "how do you do it with four kids???" I'd be really relaxed and happy.
I think that my life is kinda like the mousetrap game; it's silly, yet complicated, and if one little thing, like say ~ the lamppost ~ gets messed up, then the cage doesn't drop when it should and all hell breaks loose. Not that all hell has broken loose here, it's just that blogging is generally the last thing I do in a day, and if the other things aren't happening, my blogging time is spent cleaning bathrooms or doing laundry. Really, though, I haven't kept up with the bathrooms or the laundry. I'm just generally behind. I'm not about to fix that now, though, since I have to have Nate and four other kids (I'm babysitting this week. OH like it matters if there's one more!) to the dentist fifteen miles away at 8:40 a.m. Our path follows a crappy, clogged highway, of course, so I should get some rest and bolster my chances of not unleashing the bad language in front of someone else's child.
Oh ICK, don't'cha hate it when there is a bad peanut in the trail mix?? Can I sue for damages?? Ack! Help me!!
Nate walked into the room where Sophie was watching this movie. He said, "Hmmmm. Looks a lot like a Miyazaki film."
That made me feel like such an outstanding parent. And he's all snobby with his "film" rather than "movie." Heh. I love that.
In other acts of greatness, I made some kick-ass chocolate chip cookies. The kids (and the adults, course) are loving them.
The big kids are going to their dad's for the weekend, so I'll be able to catch my breath a little. For the first time since we started this in April (this being the weekend visits) I really don't want them to go.
I just lost my hippie-mama street cred. This morning Nate had a dental appt (another cavity. gah) and on the way home with five hungry kids and some cash in my pocket I got an idea. I say, "I," when really it must've been demons temporarily possessing my brain, because I wouldn't have said what I did, which was, "Hey, I know, let's go through the McDunderhill's drive thru!"
I have taken my kids there three times: once on a Texas road trip, once on a Santa Rosa road trip, and once when they had incredibly bad Spy Kid fever and there was a toy that they had to have before it killed them not to.
At my suggestion, eight little eyes full of hope and happiness and mewling newborn kittens looked up at me. Willow's eyes were number nine and ten and they were scrunched up due to a screaming fit brought on by leaving the dentist's office without every. single. toy. in the prize box. She's never partaken of the McDoody's drive thru, and didn't understand the magnitude of the situation. My boys were holding their breath, and they said, "Really, mom?"
"Sure! Let's go!"
Of course, I had to find out from a six and eight year old where there even was one with a drive through window. We got there, we ordered (don't get me started on the atrocious "girl" and "boy" meals. girls get barbie stuff, boys get cars. I get super pissed off and want to strangle the head of marketing), and faster than I could have buttered a slice of bread, we drove off with our stinky, greasy bags.
This morning it was cool. I love cool mornings in the middle of august. I got up with the girls and let them watch a video and eat strawberries while I sat on the couch by the open window, reading and drinking my coffee. Heav. en. ly. I got a chance to clean up some yesterday; the kids' rooms cleaned and vacuumed, the kitchen and living room passable. It makes such a difference for me to wake up to a clean(ish) house.
I was talking to John late last night about the fact that I'm trying very hard to fight off this feeling like I'm about to slide into depression. I don't have external reasons to be down, really. Things are getting easier for me: the kids mostly sleep through the night, school starts in a couple of weeks, Sophie will be in preschool two afternoons a week, money is getting less tight. I know that hormones play a big role for me, as I tend to get hormone-related migraines and depression and acne. But it's not that this time. I can't say what it is. It may be that I love having a baby and Willow is talking and running around with the big kids. It may be my upcoming birthday. Or not. I don't know.
One thing that I did say to John, though, is that I think that something bothering me is the fact that I spend the bulk of my time thinking about the other people in this family: does everyone have clean clothes to wear? shoes that fit? something to do? the right things to eat? a ride to practice? clean sheets? You know. The list is endless. And, no one does that for me. Or not to the extent that I do for them. I know. As my brother says, "pity party for one." It isn't so much that I want to or need to be taken care of. It's that if someone is going to the trouble to see that I have what I need and want, that means that they really care about me. When the people I care for don't go to the trouble to see to my needs, I let it make me feel unloved. It's a little like rejection, and rejection, even from someone you dislike, stings. When you feel it from the people you love most, even when it isn't really there to feel, it's incredibly painful. And I wonder if this is part of why mothers feel depressed. Can you live a life of service and be happy if there are things you are longing to do but you must either postpone or not do them at all?
In my case it quickly becomes a slippery slope. I feel horrible and depressed and full of self-hatred. Then I think about how, really, I have no reason to complain. That gets added to the pile and I feel worse for feeling down in the first place when I really have it so good. When interpreted literally, it sounds something like, "I am depressed because I'm depressed and I don't really have a reason to be depressed." And isn't that silly?
But, after watching a few episodes of Six Feet Under with my honey last night, and waking up to a clean house, and having enough money to pay the bills and buy food and stuff this month, I do feel a little better. And, I will try to take care of my own needs more, so that I don't have to resent anyone when I don't get to do the things that are required for my health and sanity. Because I'm living the life I chose, and I see that it is good, though hard. I want to live it and be happy, to look back and remember joy. Time to stop; I sound like a fucking hallmark card.
I'm walking past the fountain by the grocery store (on my way home from depositing John's paycheck and getting my six pack for the weekend) and there are three skater/stoner/surfer kind of guys hanging out.
Guy one: Dude, dude. Dude, I'm taking off now.
Guy two: Kay.
Guy one: Yeah. Dude, I'm gonna go read a book for awhile.
Me: cracking up and glad to hear it
This is today's panel of the Quigmans
Usually, I don't get too worked up over a joke. I can laugh at myself and others fairly easily. But this comic stuck in my craw this morning. Really. I hate that it did, cause the quigmans is one of the handful of good comics in mainstream press, and I adore it. I don't know what invisible line it crossed for me. Maybe I don't think that environmental devastation and alcoholism are things to joke about. Maybe it's the Native American stereotype thrown in there. At the same time, I see the humor. I get the joke, and I think it's funny. But, the reality behind it is not funny. Maybe this was more about opening discussion than about getting a laugh. Maybe it was supposed to strike a nerve. I tend to be really dense when it comes to "getting" things; whether it's film or books or art. I just think that if the goal is to open discussion the attention getter ought to be less, well, inflammatory. It's hard to have dialogue when the opener is divisive.
Too much analysis. My head hurts and I can't even tell if I'm making myself clear. Because after all, I'm only a mommy blogger. (See? I can laugh at myself. And you, too, sometimes.)
(Edited to add:
I do realize that this is most likely a dig at that old commercial from the 70's, which many people find to be condescending and pandering.)
Continue reading "offensive (?), funny, and sad ~ in that order" »
John came home with a few bullfrog tadpoles. They live on the porch.
No phone throwing today. Yet. We have a couple of extra boys with us for the afternoon. I asked everyone what they wanted for lunch and one of them said, "I'll take some of those government waffles!" Wow. That would require a humongous plate.
I made purple play dough. It's the easiest and cheapest way to make my kids happy.
I lost my temper and threw the telephone so hard that it came apart and the battery flew out. I put it back together and it still works. Sometimes it feels really great to do stuff like that. That said, I think I need to go knit or cook or something relaxing. Maybe switch to decaf.
One of Sophie's Parisian fashion scores from her aunt and grandmother's trip.
Lex and Nate have a friend spending the day today. So nice for me, because they just want to sit in their room under the super cool fort they built, playing with star wars characters, playing a little sponge bob video game and listening to a queen cd. They've hardly bothered me at all. I'm going to take everyone over to get an ice cream cone in a minute.
Later we will try and check out the mammoth fossil, if they aren't already finished digging it up.
I cooked this weekend, using the oven, just to see how hot I could make the kitchen. Yikes, it was bad. But the food was good, and I haven't been cooking enough lately.
Was that totally boring? Yes. But, with a point!
That pizza was made with fresh tomatoes, green bell pepper, anaheim chilies, and a couple of jalapenos from the garden of a friend of a friend. The whole time I was chopping I was thinking of urban legends. You know, the 'friend of a friend' stories. Like, is it true that black belts have to register their hands as deadly weapons with the local police department?? Stay tuned, I'll go find out.
I wish I could remember who told me that their friend did that. It's gonna keep me up all night.
Willow is up. Here she comes to visit me.
I'm very sad that Peter Jennings died. I have a huge crush on him. (Jeez, how is that for all about me??)
Time to put the baby back to bed.
My children won't eat lots of things that I think they ought to like. Things like oatmeal cookies, banana pancakes, chocolate dipped strawberries. However two of them will cry, real tears, if they don't get "egg chips" with their scrambled eggs. You know what egg chips are??? It's the crispy crap that is left on the sides of the frying pan after you make the eggs. I have to deal with a tantrum if I forget to not scrape the sides of the pan at just the right time to make the egg chips. It's an art. It's like making a souffle with all the work and none of the reward. Unless you like egg chips that is. If you do, you are weird.
You can guess what the first two photos are of, but probably not the third. The third is of a picnic table and benches that I am babysitting for awhile. My friend K is in the middle of huge house renovation and needed to give away lots of stuff for lots of reasons. She called me first, and she offered me this picnic table and benches. I *love* the table. It's been around for ages. I remember sitting at it outside at a party, drinking a beer while nursing Sophie and talking to a couple from the Santa Cruz mountains about housing prices. (That conversation happens all the time in this area.) It was the first time that John had met a lot of my friends. I think that was the same party where the blender being used to make margaritas had been hooked up to motorcycle handle bars. You gave it a little gas and it went. Loudly. The first time I saw this table I coveted it. The table and the benches both fold up, which is how it came to be propped against my wall. I promised my friend that I was only going to babysit the table, because I know she feels the same kind of love for it I do. I told her I'd give it back when the dust settled and they had more space. She was really happy. I think we both cried a little. It's a damn good table.
Here are the monkeys in their new mobile digs:
I finally hauled my ass over to the dmv today, just me and my knitting and a bunch of important papers and my checkbook. My excellent sister came by to watch the monkeys. I was sad to be in and out in less than an hour.
The guy who helped me looked at my shirt, puzzled. "Writing is the best revenge. . . what's fussy?" "Oh," says I, "it's my friend's website." (cause who wants to explain the whole phenomenon, and I did meet her, after all, lucky me)
"Why is it the best revenge?"
"Uh, you know the saying about living well?"
blank stare
"Okay, so how much is the tax and transfer and all that?"
"Three fifty seven."
I decide not to do any Dirty Harry impressions or even make a reference. Too much work. I hand him a check and say, "It would be really funny if you made people show their license when they wrote a check!"
*thinks a moment* "Why would that be funny?"
"Uh, 'cause it's the dmv, and you guys give out the licenses, you know?"
"Hmmm."
"Am I all done then?"
Here are some photos of John's office. Jealous?
As long as you're surfing, you might as well shop!
The new van has a tape player but not a cd player. The radio works, though, which is a good thing since who knows where any cassette tapes are. Garage, maybe? There are no good radio stations around here. College radio is good, but in a spotty way, especially with kids in the car. Our pick lately has been 'classic rock.' Usually I'm meh with the classic rock, but today was so. much. fun. We got two songs from Queen (Bohemian Rhapsody and We Will Rock You), a Fleetwood Mac (honestly hard for me to tell the dif from one to another, sorry), then AC/DC (Shook Me All Night Long) and, on the home stretch, Led Zeppelin. As much as I detested the mighty Zep in high school, I love them now. And I forgot which song it was, but who cares? my kids like Led Zeppelin. I want to take them all to a midnight showing of Song Remains the Same and freak out all the stoned people.
The highlight of the van ride came when Sophie sang this, "We will,
we will,
ROCKYOUSOCKYOUPICKYOUUPANDDROPYOU (big breath)
FLUSHYOUDOWNTHETOILETHOPETHATYOUENJOYIT"
Not bad for a four year old girl, eh?
Hello. John here to report that our monitor was found belly up last night. It now occupies some unknown virtual afterlife. This means, of course, that for the time being we have no computer access at home. Good things come to those who wait. Watch this space.
Edited to add:
Hey, John said as he left this morning that maybe the monitor would magically come to life again and it did!! Not for long though, I'd guess with all the flickery activity. Here are a couple of recent pictures of Miss Willow
Now we are off in our new van (yay!) to pay the rent, visit the dmv (gulp), get a couple of goodies at Trader Joe's, and go to the car wash. Fun times!
Are you listening to Myshkin's Ruby Warblers yet? You have to. Really.
Might not be around for awhile if this monitor goes out. Maybe I'll finish up those knitting projects and catch up on my Six Feet Under viewing.
My post was eaten. Hear the big old typepad burp??
Just reporting that my stepdad took the van in for me to get two new tires and an alignment, then called to tell me that he was having new shocks and struts and cv boots put on with the tires, and the brakes done as well as the alignment. Add two thousand bucks to the cost of the van. . . It's still a bargain, but I feel kinda dumb now thinking we'd gotten such a great deal. My age and experience don't match my level of naiveness (I know that isn't a word I'm using blogging license). Maybe it's my tendency to not think things through well.
I can't keep my eyes open. I need to nap for twenty minutes or drink some iced tea. Nap. hahahahahahahahah right.
My monitor keeps flicking and clicking. I know it is going to go out, because between the cost of replacing that and the cost of paying the tax on the new van, you get the amount I was planning to stash into the savings account this month. Damn Murphy's Law!
Hi, I'm here to settle the debate regarding evolution vs. intelligent design. Not to settle which is 'correct,' but how to teach it in school.
Really.
Here's my idea:
Nobody knows every single actual, proveable, factual fact of the matter. But there are all sorts of bits of information, some huge and some tiny, about the past and present world. There are remains of rocks and animals and plants that no longer exist. The food chain and water cycle and adaptation of plant and animal species is endlessly interesting. The earth has changed and is changing. In short, there is a lot to study, but no one theory can explain everything.
So, why not just teach the facts without teaching theory? Why not let the students put the facts together themselves and draw their own conclusions? Why not use this as an example of how even the most brilliant thinkers cannot answer everything? Why not give them a chance to figure it all out?
I always saw a clear connection between creation and evolution. I don't belive in the pop culture version of a white-bearded creator with a walking stick and flowing robes (uh, Zeus, anyone?). But I do think that the idea of things evolving as they are being 'created' makes sense. The most obvious example would be sculpting with clay. You can start with a block and gradually shape it into a form, say a woman's face. As it is being created it will take different forms. The act of creation is an evolutionary process. The things that work stick around, the things that don't are phased out.
If you want to translate the bible literally, though, and believe that somebody instantly created humans as they are today out of dirt (don't get me started on the rib idea grrrrrrrr) then I can't help you. But, that wouldn't be part of the classroom lesson anyhow, as the lesson would be based on stuff that's been told to us by the planet and not the beings on it.
Boy howdy do I have a crush on my new (used) little van. The kids are all funny and excited about it, too, clambering all over the inside and begging to go for a ride. No dice tonight, though, since Willow was asleep by the time the big kids arrived home. Tomorrow we will go visit my insurance agent to take her a check for the new policy and then if I am brave enough, I will take everyone to the dmv with me. I figure that has to be my payback karma for all sorts of evil things I have done over the years. It predict it will even make it so that I am owed some serious goodness. Four kids from ages 2-8 at the dmv. Something tells me that m and m's won't cut it this time.
I just remembered tonight about the tax. Bummer.
Since blogher I have been spending a rather unhealthy amount of time online. There is too much goodness for me to ingest. I'm stuffed, but still gobbling blogs even though the extra is dripping down my chin. It's that good. Also, I have lots of new people stopping by. You know that makes it impossible for me to write anything remotely funny. I can't even decide how to tell about Willow trying to convince me to nurse with her. It should be pretty comical (okay for some folks: horrifying) to read about a two year old seizing the breast she isn't using and trying to entice her mother to partake with her by telling her how good the nee is. "Like it, mama! Good nee! Try some?" I always say, "No thanks honey, I take mine on the rocks, only babies can handle it straight up" which makes her laugh.
I know! Since I'm a mommyblogger, I'll talk about poop! Today there was lots! of! poop!!!! Sophie pooped her pants while playing hide and go seek. "I shoulda hide in the toilet, I guess," she said.
Kay. That was pathetic, but I'm tapped. Come back later when everyone is gone and I ditch the performance anxiety.
Jen, you wanna see pictures of Willow. Maybe I can swing that tomorrow when John gets back from work with the camera. We need two cameras around here. Spoiled.
