Not Calm (dot com)

black is the new red

black is the new red
Originally uploaded by jenijen

One more thing

that has made me cry in a good way lately.  My mom sent this link.  Enjoy your weekend.  I will because I have new hair. 

Leave it to me

Today was good: good weather, good news, good company.  We met Gwendomama and her kiddos at the park for a little bit.  Bubbles is going to star in the toddler Dirty Harry movies.  I mean, look at that face.  I'm glad I had a cookie to give him!

I went to the grocery store tonight and ran into the owner of the sandwich shop where I worked my first job at sixteen.  Haven't seen him in years, but it was totally appropriate to see him over by the produce.   Backing up a little, the park we met at is bathroomless, so I ended up walking three of my kids and Supergirl over to the sandwich shop across the way.  We bought some snacks and got a bathroom key. 

Here's where I managed to lock myself and the girls in the hallway by the bathrooms.   

See, the bathrooms are only for customers, and the hallway to get there has a door that locks with a deadbolt.  We got ourselves into the hall with a bathroom key.  I waited in the hall while the kids went into the two bathrooms.  The boys came back out first, and I helped Nate read the sideways directions written on the hall door with a sharpie: Use Key To Open Door. 

So, Nate opened the door with the key, and I sent him and Alex to return the key and wait for us in the cafe.  The girls finished up, and we went to go meet the boys.  Except, we couldn't, because we had NO KEY.  I knocked on the door, knowing that it would be useless because the boys weren't close enough to hear and anyone else would just ignore it.  There was one door leading to the outside, but it had Emergency Exit - Alarm Will Sound in red lettering on the glass.  Our only other option was to go down to the basement.  Supergirl started to get a little quivery in the lower lip over the thought of being stuck in the hall and missing all the fun.  I pulled out my cell phone, called information, and then got through to the restaurant.  By now, both the girls were giggling, and they laughed even harder when they heard me say, "Hi, we are locked in your bathroom hallway!" 

One of the employees came to our rescue, and we only missed a tiny bit of fun.  We came back with cookies, so it all came out even.  Anyway, not to get all overly into the symbolism I found myself in today, but within the space of a few hours I received some incredibly lovely and wonderful news about my new job, I locked myself in a sandwich shop with no apparent exit, I found a way out, and then I ran into my boss from my first ever job in a different sandwich shop and I felt an even stronger sense of relief and escape when I saw him than I did when the employee with the key let us out of the hallway. 

And now, I really must go convince the boys that just because it's summertime that doesn't mean they can have an all-night-long video game fest.  They stay up later than I do these days.

ocean beach

My cousin, her daughters and her mom and step dad are out here (in San Francisco) on a vacation.  We went up to hang out with them tonight.  It was great to see everyone, and I may get to have a weekend trip with my cousin this fall in northern California.  She loooooves trees, and wants to spend some time with the redwoods.  I invited myself along -- it'll be fun. 

Am so so so so so so so tired.  Here are the photos.
Night!

Hush, my darling, don't fear, my darling

I just read that Hank Medress died.  (And, I hope my obituary doesn't run next to an ad for cellulite cream that shows too much of some woman's ass before and "after" use.  How very sad.)  I used to play my 45 of The Lion Sleeps Tonight over and over and over.  I have a memory of Breaking Up Is Hard To Do (Neil Sedaka) being on the flipside, but I don't think that 's right.

I'm going to put The Lion Sleeps Tonight on my iPod so my kids can listen to it in the car.  I think they'll like it.  Unfortunately, I played Breaking Up Is Hard To Do so many times that thirty something years later I'm STILL sick of it.

longest day

Well, I've had longer days, but this is technically the longest day this year.  At some point, early this morning I guess, I turned into a salmon and spent the rest of the day slowly getting through the things I needed to.  Barely.  Didn't even get to some things.

I just checked what time the sun sets and decided that within the next half hour (or so) I am going to toss some toys and snacks into a bag, grab a couple of blankets and my camera, several sweaters and possibly a frisbee, and get this family to the beach to watch the sun set over the pacific.   The kids may bicker, but I'm feeling a strong need to make a memory for them.  To go be near the waves.  To feel insignificant and also connected. 

Happy Solstice. 

edited to add

a bazillion photos here

goats save the day

Seriously.  We took the kids up to play at Hidden Villa, (photos here) and things were fine until we went from the farm to the forest to hike.  Then this happened:

And the boy who was climbing on an old, possibly rotten and about to break, tree limb over a practically dry creek bed full of sharp rocks and menacing poky branches, refused to listen to my sane rules for staying safe.  He wanted to explore, and if that meant climbing or going off the trail on steep, poison oak covered hillsides, then that was what he was going to do, everyone else be damned.   

We had words.

I got into that horrible, Why can't we have just ONE FUCKING GOOD DAY? mode, which is not helpful or charming or anything except fuel for the fire.  We talked about leaving, but didn't, instead hiking a little bit more.  The kids were cranky over not enough water and having a mean mother who never lets them do anything fun.  I was getting depressed, frankly, because it's Always Something, and I just don't think that's normal.  I'm both self-centered and insecure enough to assume that it's all my fault and the result of me being a terrible mother. 

But, then the goats showed up and saved us.

We were hiking on a steep hillside

and he wouldn't keep up and he planted his feet and kept wanting to talk to me and we kept arguing about how important it is to not be a dumbass in places where doing so can really hurt you.  It was a mostly friendly argument, all about pushing the limits and making sure I love him enough to stick to my guns.   (He really wants to play Halo, but I won't let him.  He acts like he thinks I'm mean, but when he had an opportunity to play it at a friend's house, he said no.  He told me about it later and said that he didn't want to do it because he respects that I asked him not to.  So, even though in the same breath he told me that he thinks it's lame that he can't play, it also makes him feel loved and protected.)  Anyway, we were hiking, and I heard crashing up the hill.  I said to the kids, "Hey, look!  Deer!  No, they're dogs.  NO, GOATS!"  And there were people from the farm, taking some baby goats for a walk. 

We all ended up down at the stream, where the kids fed the goats ferns they'd picked from the forest floor.  The farmers wanted to get the goats back up to the trail, so they asked all the children to use the ferns to lead the goats away from the water.  It was pretty comical, and everyone was instantly happy and laughing.  Nate wanted me to take his picture pretending to eat a fern.

We left happy.  When we got home the kids swam while I got supper ready. 

And, I guess I don't have a point at all.  ARE there families out there that have fun, conflict-free outings?  Is what my family does the norm?  It doesn't feel right to me, but maybe it's just how it is.  If I learn my lesson from all this, will the universe move on to teaching me something else and let my kids go have a fun afternoon outside without bickering?

creek girls

  Avoiding Nature Deficit Disorder 
  Originally uploaded by Corbie

I haven't started my full-time job yet, but I'm doing it from home on a part-time + basis.   I think it's okay for me to say now that I'm working for BlogHer.  In a couple of months, I'm going to go and work in a real, live office.

Weird, I know!

I'm really happy about it, and will be even happier when I figure out how things will work as far as the whole FOUR KIDS thing goes.   I think that most of the child-wrangling will be done by John, if his schedule turns out like we think it will this fall.  It's tough for a control freak like me (yet, at the same time, I fully realize I have no control over things -- well, maybe I have a tiny bit, but not much. *sigh* see? Control Freak) to imagine the future when all my ducks aren't in a row.   I like my ducks lined up. 

I am sad about being away from Willow so much since she's just a baby to me, but she gets me all to herself every other weekend, and that makes it easier.  I have this wild theory that maybe my kids will be a little kinder to me if they see me less.  If I'm wrong, at least I'll be able to justify the retail therapy I'll need to cope.   Silver lining and whatnot.

I swear I'm not brown-nosing (like the BlogHer founders have time to read my blog -- dude!  they are SO BUSY) when I say that I couldn't imagine more awesome women to work for and with.  I feel so completely lucky.  Blessed.

Tonight I went to Tarjay and bought the kids an above ground pool (I had to get a box of pool chemicals, too -- how science-y) and another DVD player so they won't have to lug the one they share from one bedroom to another.  I hope they are happy with the pool and the movies, because two days of vacation have passed and it's been awful.  I need to get kind of a lot done for work during the day, and the girls are In.My.Face. with the requests for candy and the wails of "I'm bored!"  It's not good. 

I want to get one of those "OOL don't put the "P" in our ool!" signs.  Also, a pool boy.  Can you have one if the pool is 10 feet wide and 30 inches deep?  I think that should be allowed. 







   

You take 'em both and there you have the facts of life *updated*

I was SUPPOSED to go up to San Francisco to meet one of my internet sheroes, the lovely Jennifer from Textile Fetish.  Instead I had to call her and cancel because I seem to have developed an infection in one of my appendectomy incisions, even though it's already healed.  The advice nurse said I MUST be seen, TODAY.  So, I'm off to the emergency room, where I bet anyone fifty bux that I will have to wait until tomorrow to be seen.  I'm not being sarcastic, either.  I've waited there for over twelve hours before, and once saw a man who came in with his severed finger in a fast food cup of ice wait at least four hours to be seen.  He kept the cup in the windowsill, where the finger stewed in the melted ice water. 

Every time I looked in his direction, I gagged a little. 

Anyway, I'd much rather go hang out with Jennifer.  Am feeling bummed and ill and crabby.  Will be back with at least one entertaining story to share.  If nothing else, I'll finish reading Eat, Pray, Love.     

Updated--

Well, now.  I'm back, hours earlier than I expected, with antibiotics, advice to "take it easy," (uh, okay.  sure.) and orders to put a hot compress on my incision site for a half hour every two hours.  Like breastfeeding, but without the baby, the poop or the nursing bras.  The doctor who saw me AFTER THEY PULLED ME FROM THE ER AND SNUCK ME INTO URGENT CARE (I am still feeling shock over this) said that one of my internal stitches probably decided to get all festery instead of just giving it up and dissolving like it should.  So, get this: I am to put hot compresses on it until all the gunk drains out of it, even though it's already healed over.  Ewww.  "You'll probably see the thread come out!" she told me.  And, weirdo that I am, the idea of that both sickens and fascinates me.   I'm the one who will peel your sunburned skin off your back (but, seriously, don't let that happen -- use sunscreen!) and if I love you I will pop your zits.   But, at the same time, if there is hair in my food I will throw up, and sometimes, just seeing a hair not attached to anything will set my gag reflexes off. 

So, I'm not going to be able to deliver a story, unless you count the gossip I heard from the woman who worked at urgent care about what a bitch the emergency room manager is. 

On my way out of the hospital, I got a good shot of a long, empty hallway with my cell phone camera.  Now I need to figure out how I'm going to get the picture from the phone to my computer.  That ought to keep me busy for a while. 

Greet the dawn with a breath of fire

Wow.  Talk about a great day.

I have some really big and awesomely amazing changes happening in my life right now.  I'm going, in the near future, to be working (full time) at what I'm inclined to call, "A Real, Live, Actual, Grown-Up Job," but it's so straight out of one of my career fantasies that it doesn't seem all that real.  But, it is.  It's not the right time for me to say very much, though I can say that I feel like I can breathe.  I didn't realize how much I was holding my breath all the time.

I had lunch (a business lunch, but with friends.  See? Dream Job!) in San Francisco while John and Willow went to the aquarium, the record store and knocking around Haight.  They came and got me after lunch and we headed for the beach because that was what Willow really wanted to do.  Just by chance, we found ourselves at the Sutro Baths.   I've never really been there before, but I knew of it and when I looked down from the parking lot six miles above the beach, I said, "HEY! Part of Harold and Maude was filmed here!"

Mostly because of that, I walked down the super steep hill in smooth-bottomed boots with a little too much heel for the terrain.  The ruins of the baths (great photos here) stick up from the smelly stagnant water and people walk across them.  Which is probably mostly fine if you aren't with your four-year-old, but it turned me into a hisser.  "Hold Daddy's hand," I hissed at Willow.  "Watch her.  HOLD HER HAND," I hissed at John.  I hate doing that, but it needed doing and I was proved right by this poor girl who didn't see the two foot square, who knows how deep, hole in the part of the foundation she was walking on.  Maybe part of the big slide once fit in there.  Anyhow, she stepped into it, I'm sure because she was looking out at the stunning view of the sea, and I thought at first she'd broken her leg.  She turned out to be okay, but she was certainly hurt. 

That said, it's really cool that there is a publicly owned place where you can go that is dangerous.  Seriously, when was the last time you even saw a merry-go-round at the park?  I get tired of being protected from myself.  I also didn't want to walk across the cement ruins, because having water far below me on either side gave me a little vertigo.  I did it anyway, just like I ride in elevators and drive through tunnels even though I hate to. 

Here's Willow and me in a tunnel, which was terrifying.  I was thinking two things: This is insanely beautiful, and, Please don't let there be an earthquake.



You can't tell from that photo, but halfway through the tunnel there is a place where the boulders part just enough to give you a view of the ocean.  You can see the water smashing into the outside of the cave, and it rushes up to just below where you stand in the middle of the tunnel, watching.  I don't think I've ever been so aware of the ocean's power.  It made me feel like nothing, but also part of things.  I have no idea what that really means, but it's what I felt. 

Here's what you get to see after you walk through the tunnel:

Some reward, no?  I happen to think it looks even more beautiful to my eyes because it was so difficult for me to walk through that damn tunnel. 

John and Willow hiked down to a sandy beach on the other side of the baths from the tunnel, but I knew that if I went down I'd end up falling.  I stayed up on the cliff above them and took pictures.  John took a bunch, too.

Willow was starving when we got back on the road, so we stopped off to get her a bite.  I've never seen her eat so greedily, ever.  It was a beautiful thing.  All the way home I drove John bonkers with my how-about-this daycare scenarios for when my work schedule picks up.  I sat next to Willow, because she asked me to, and she kept telling me she loved me and that she was glad I was sitting by her.  I don't feel any guilt about taking on a full time job, but I'm going to really, really miss spending so much time with her.  (I'm not bringing up the other kids, because they'll be in school 30 hours a week and I'm already adjusted to that.  I love them, too, of course.)  I was already planning to have Willow in preschool three mornings a week and in part-time daycare, too, but it's so hard for me to let go.  I've spent nearly eleven years now at home (I've worked, but never full-time) with my kids and for all my griping, it's what I love most.  (See? Now I'm all crying.  Sheesh.)  The thing is, she isn't a baby anymore, she loves to be out in the world, and me working is going to mean really, really great things for her.  My time of being a mom to tiny, fascinating, babies and chunky toddlers who talk like they're from the Bronx is over.  Which leaves me achingly sad, but my feet are on the ground enough to know that it's time for me to make this change.   We'll all be happier once we get used to it. 

I can see the red tail lights headed for Spain

Believe it or not, I'm not looking for sympathy here.  In some parallel universe, the one where I was able to figure out a week's worth of child care, I am in Paris right now, taking a bazillion photos and drooling all over the dress shops.  And, the kicker: it was a free trip to Paris. 

I'm in this universe, though.  The one where I just spent fifteen minutes with Willow in my lap, her barely-still-chunky hand patting and stroking my cheek.  The one where I went to yoga this morning and cried twice: once when a woman passed out (I am a sympathetic crier), and once during savasana, when the teacher played Imagine, by John Lennon.  Last night I went to yoga for the first time since my surgery (thirteen days since the surgery, eighteen days since my last yoga session) and when I started to sweat, the overpowering stench of general anesthesia nearly knocked me over.  I was unbelievably grossed out that two weeks later I still had all that crap in my body. 

But, back to Paris.  I've never been there.  My trip to Barcelona in February was only the second time I've ever left the US.  The first time was when I went to Toronto, which doesn't really count entirely.  (I loved Toronto, but it wasn't so different than home.)  I know it's cliche, but I fell in love with Spain.  Hard.

My good fortune to be invited there still amazes me: I've always said that if I could go to one place in Europe, it would be Spain.  I know that part of the appeal of Barcelona was that I was there on my own.  That would have been a good thing for me in any city, really.  There was more to it, though.  I guess one way to describe it is that all the cities I'd ever been to before are sophomores in high school and Barcelona got its PhD ages ago and is a tenured professor.   I loved all the walking, the mix of shops and houses and cafes.  The narrow streets and tall buildings.  People were kind, you could feel and see history all around, and everyone rests on Sundays.   I can't really explain it at all.  When I got there, I felt like I fit.  Except for the whole language thing, that is. 

So, as much as I was thrilled to be getting to go to Paris, I'm trying to not dwell on the fact that I'm here.  Here is good, too.   I'm enjoying small moments with the kids a little more, knowing that The Plan was for me to be away and for those moments to never even exist.  There's a lovely cool front moving in right now -- it's windy out and chilly.  I'm by an open window right now; I hear the wind and the kids playing outside.  I love this weather.  Good news came in the mail today.  Here is not so terrible.

Most of the moms from Sophie's class knew that I went to Barcelona, and we were talking about traveling.  I said something like, You know, if I didn't have all these kids, I could go to Europe again this year.  It was meant to be tongue in cheek, like when I worked in a coffee bar and my friend Jane deadpanned You know, this job would be GREAT if it weren't for all those pesky customers!  But, I think the statement was taken at face value by one of the moms who told me that being a mother means making sacrifices.  I don't even remember who said it, but I do remember thinking, DUDE.  You have NO IDEA. 

It may happen that I'll get to Paris this year.  Or not.  I hope to go there someday.  Other places, too.  I know I'll get back to Spain without having to lose myself in the photos I took.  Eventually.

Soph's iPod playlist

Like a Surgeon    3:30    "Weird Al" Yankovic
Ebay (Parody of "I Want It That Way" by the Backstreet Boys)    3:36    "Weird Al" Yankovic
White & Nerdy (Parody of "Ridin'" By Chamillionaire featuring Krayzie Bone)    2:50    "Weird Al" Yankovic   
Canadian Idiot (Parody of "American Idiot" By Green Day)    2:23    "Weird Al" Yankovic 
Annie Medley (Annie)    4:54    Broadway Kids   
I Won't Grow Up (Peter Pan)    2:01    Broadway Kids
Let Kids Rule The Land (Little Lord Fauntleroy)    1:59    Broadway Kids
Take the Skinheads Bowling    2:34    Camper Van Beethoven
Wild World    3:22    Cat Stevens
Trouble    2:44    Cat Stevens
On The Road To Find Out    5:07    Cat Stevens
If You Want To Sing Out, Sing Out    2:46    Cat Stevens
Where Do The Children Play?    3:51    Cat Stevens
Anything You Can Do    3:18    Ethel Merman
Wake Me Up When September Ends (Live At Foxboro, MA 9/3/05)    5:40    Green Day
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious    4:33    Harry Connick, Jr.
Beautiful Day    4:08    U2
Poisioning Pigeons in the Park    2:12    Tom Lehrer
Istanbul (Not Constantinople)    2:42    They Might Be Giants
Dani California    4:42    Red Hot Chili Peppers
Can't Stop    4:29    Red Hot Chili Peppers
Sheena Is a Punk Rocker    2:52    The Ramones
Under Pressure    4:03    Queen & David Bowie
Let My Love Open The Door    4:58    Pete Townshend
Smells Like Teen Spirit    5:03    Nirvana      
About a Girl    2:50    Nirvana         
Pink Moon    2:04    Nick Drake
Bojador    3:20    Myshkin
Snow Owl    2:17    The Mountain Goats
Sweet Home Alabama    4:45    Lynyrd Skynyrd

Lots of those are courtesy of Squid and her fabulous kid mix cd.

Is she bold, or just oblivious?

graffiti in the van
Originally uploaded by jenijen

That is the inside of the van. *sigh* She also left her signature (with the star, natch) on the wooden dollhouse. I'm sure I'll be discovering other places soon enough.

freshly pierced

  freshly pierced 
  Originally uploaded by jenijen

Sophie has been begging to get her ears pierced ever since she realized that a few girls in her class were sporting tiny little dolphin or heart-shaped studs.  I made her clear it with her dad, and then gave her the green light.  This was around Easter sometime, and I finally made good on my promise yesterday.

I didn't want to take her to the mall, where she'd get her ears pierced by a too-young kid with a piercing gun, so I called the body piercing studio where I had my nose pierced.  She wasn't busy when we called, so we (Willow came along) headed over. 

I am SO GLAD we went to her. 

Instead of quickly putting two target dots on her ears and then doing the piercing, she carefully looked at each of Soph's ears and pointed out to me just how (normally) differently shaped they are.   She put the dots in the right place, for each ear, telling me that instead of just making them totally even to each other, she'd put them in the best spot on each ear.   Then, she put a cork behind her earlobe and did the piercing by hand, using the jewelry. 

I was a little afraid that Sophie would be clinging to the ceiling after the first attempt, but not only did she not cry at all, she sat perfectly still.  Just before we left the house, I gently combed her hair, and she shrieked and writhed about.  I am so onto her now.

She is so happy with her tiny pink and green flowers.  I think I'd really rather she waited until she was a little older, but chances are I'll always feel that way.  She does look really cute. 

If you are in the San Francisco Bay Area and have a kid who wants their ears pierced, this is the place to go.  True, you are going to pay twice or more than what you'll be charged at the mall, but it's worth it for the skill, care, and attention you'll get. 

I'm thinking about going back and having her repierce my nose, but I can't decide if I really want to.

backward writing can be super funny!

backward writing can be super funny!
Originally uploaded by jenijen

John brought me Sophie's latest artwork ( a picture of my brother playing a game she plays at kindergarten) saying, uh, I THINK YOU SHOULD LOOK AT THIS. Lex was close behind him, freaking out and laughing.

I love the dollar signs.

Those aren't Xs, they're Ys: she wrote Yes three times, but it came out backward twice.

I don't know when I last laughed so hard. Good thing it was ten days after my surgery