You Can't Stop the Music

So, no, the day didn't start out particularly different than any other day... I asked the Man to convey to our Middle Child that I did not wish for her to stay after school, and when I asked him about it later, he said she'd told him she HAD to, she had a student council meeting. This seemed odd to me, given that she'd stayed after for a student council meeting yesterday, so I called the school.

Two guesses. You're right! There was, indeed, no student council meeting. Hmm... so I called the OTHER part of the school, and asked them to send my daughter a note that read "No student council meeting, take school bus home". I mentioned to them that the word "school" was very important, because MC is big on semantics, and could easily interpret "bus" to mean "public transit" and then wander in God knows when, feigning innocence, and I just didn't want to have to hassle with it.

And then I was off...slightly delayed by all this dealing with the high school...to a meeting about a job. My dear friend Kim, (of "4 Chambers of My Heart" fame), had graciously agreed to watch my Small One, so I basically threw the child at her as I dashed back out the door, and she invited me to stay longer on the return trip, and have lunch. This is where the day took a few rather odd turns.

For one thing, I got a call from the high school. They'd tried to deliver the message, you see, but failed, because my child wasn't in class. What?!? The lady was pretty blase about it, considering it was basically their turn to watch the girl, and they weren't doing such a hot job. She assured me that she'd look into it further and call me back. I took a deep breath (or several), went to the meeting, returned to Kim's house to pick up Small One and have lunch.

Over lunch, Kim made reference to the fact that I seemed pretty unconcerned for a mom whose daughter was MIA, and I explained that I was going to wait for the school to call me, and then go to the school if she'd not been found. But as I was explaining this, my phone began to ring, and at the same time I noticed that TWO HOURS had passed since MC had not been in class, with no word from the school. I snatched up the phone and ran out the front door, to better hear the other party without 5 children in the same space.

It wasn't the school, it was my Oldest, and as I was wrapping up my conversation with him, I noticed a car pulling up to the curb. A bald African American man, probably in his late 50s, got out and approached me, just as I was dialing the school, and told me he was from Comcast, and I directed him inside, explaining that I didn't live there. Here's where it gets weird.

He said to me "Well, is the baby still crying?" and I conceded that it was possible a baby could still be crying, as there were two in the house. To which he replied "Well, I'm about to go in there and calm EVERYONE down", in a rather lilting tone, with an somewhat expansive hand gesture. Think "conversational jazz hands". (This should have clued me in that this was no ordinary Comcast cable guy.)

Kim came to the door, with a dvr and her Littlest in tow. "Hello, Little Man!" the Comcast guy called out, and her Littlest looked at him with suspicion. Small One, on the other hand, came right out onto the front porch and looked up at him, and he said...

"Hello! HellllO! Hello, Baby! Hello, it's me... I've thought about us for a long long time... Seeing you, or seeing anyone as much as I do you, I take for granted that you're always there..."

Yes, folks, YES, he sang his entire rendition of the old Todd Rundgren song "Hello It's Me." Did I say sang? Oh yes, sang! And in fact, right about the time he said "Hello Baby" he went into a little dance, complete with step-hip action and some side to side jazz hands. The other three children came to the door. Small One was fascinated.

All the children, in fact, were fascinated. I can really only describe it as "stupefied fascination", but Kim put it a little more aptly when she said "They were looking at him like he was Willy Wonka. Like they thought he MIGHT be nice, or he MIGHT be a little crazy, and they just needed to figure it out." Yep, that's exactly right.

Small One extended her arms, and he picked her up and finished the song, dancing with her. During this performance, I was on hold with the high school, waiting for them to locate MC, but when Small started looking a little nervous, I took her from him, smiling at him as if to say "No, no, I think you're nice crazy, not dangerous crazy, it's all good!"

When he finished his song, he turned his attention to Kim's Littlest. He said "What about you Little Man? Would you? Would yooooooou... WOULD you like to swing on a star?" And he was off again. All the children stared. Kim and I attempted not to look at each other, for fear we would burst into hysterical laughter. I walked a little way away to better hear the school administrator. (MC was found, she'd only missed part of one class, and was being duly written up for that infraction.)

By the time I was hanging up the phone, the man had moved on to a song about Jack coming back down the hill because he needed love he couldn't get from Jill. Not too sure I liked where that one was going, but it was broken up anyway, by the small children losing interest and fleeing the front stoop, and the not quite as small children retrieving them, against their will, to a chorus of howling nos.

Kim and I began to herd everyone back inside, saying our goodbyes to Theatrical Comcast Man, when he said to the children, "Wait, little girls! I've got something for you in my car!" We all froze in our tracks. Kim and I looked at each other. (She later told me my eyebrows went up almost to my hairline.) The man amended his statement. "I mean, if it's ok with your Mommies, I've got some candles I'd like to bring to you from my car, if you'll just wait here." Then he turned to us and said "I used to own a Dollar Store." (presumably as an explanation)

Then he was back, with a big bag full of candles. The bigger girls each picked a candle, as Kim and I wrangled the little ones away from the bag, and the man handed each of us a candle, despite our insistance that we didn't really need one.

I got a faux Heineken, Kim got a faux Budweiser.

As we walked in the door, and Comcast Man was headed down the front walk, I turned and looked at Kim. "DON'T!" she stage whispered, "THE WINDOWS ARE OPEN!"

I stage whispered back. "You KNOW I'm blogging about this!"

In about 20 years, we'll stage this picture again, with real beverages, and put both shots together in a double frame.

And you know, we have to keep those candles forever.

Welcome to My World

It's been suggested that I start blogging, and this morning seems as good a time as any to open a window to our world and allow a glimpse. I should start, I suppose, by introducing myself... wife, mom to three kids and multiple pets, terrible assistant to a virtual tour mogul (who happens to be my dear cousin), member of the home school community, all around random human...but it will give you a better idea if I just jump into this morning's narrative, I think.

Actually, in order to explain this morning, I have to go back to yesterday, but to explain yesterday requires an understanding of the whole week. Do you see why I haven't blogged before? Too complex. Let's jump right in, shall we?

• Monday- first day of school. No outside commitments! Whee! Only one little child at home! Yippee for me! Small one refuses to nap until time for bigs to get home, day is not so easy, middle child misses bus home, I make her take public transit because really, I'm not so much going to wake up the baby to pick up someone who can't be bothered to walk out to the free transportation parked at the curb. Bigs come home totaled from school, I end up running errands on their behalf until 9pm, dinner is atrociously late.
• Tuesday- Hooray! No commitments! Whee! End up watching my niece and nephew all morning, nap time ends up pushed back until bigs get home, still MORE unexpected errands to run, dinner is atrociously late.
• Wednesday- the Man's birthday. Whee! Big plans include a craft project with small one, a run to my friend's house for supplies, and an elaborate Indian dinner. (Made from scratch, of course!) Day goes off in a ditch, late to friend's house, lose track of time there watching our littles play together, bigs end up locked out of the house and surly. Naptime never occurs. Dinner is atrociously late. (Do you see a pattern?)
• Thursday- no commitments? (Cautious whee?) EXTREMELY productive morning. Small one and I have a whole preschool kind of a day, with science and art and singing and puzzles. Go, me! I'm so pleased with myself that I decide to nap when small one does. Afternoon falls completely to pieces, with big kids needy and less than thrilling, dinner is (say it with me) atrociously late, despite being "eat what you can find night". The night ends with middle child performing some sort of perverse fashion show until almost midnight, desperately searching for an outfit that makes her look neither weird nor emo.

Which of course brings us to the originally scheduled narrative: this morning. After having been up from 5-6am with the small one, whose schedule has been thrown hideously off this week, I check to make sure the bigs are up, and then go back to sleep. Sadly, middle child misses the bus, and since the Man is running late, it falls to me to drive her. I pick up the sleeping toddler (which breaks my number one life rule "never wake a small sleeping child") find my keys, stagger out to the car... notice the garbage hasn't gone out to the curb, insist middle child (who is being quite surly) help me drag it out, race off to the high school. Drop her off 1/2 hour late, make my way back home.

Did you read any mention of coffee in all that? No? That's because no one made coffee, causing me to have to drive to the high school and back without the benefit of caffeine. Isn't that against the law?

Get home to find the dog basically crossing his legs and jumping up and down by the back door, so I thank him for not peeing in the hallway, let him out, and head to the kitchen to make coffee. No sooner have I thrown away the old filter than I hear the dog barking at the top of the driveway!!! I mutter a not so nice word (you'll learn this is a major flaw of mine), snatch small one up and run up to the top of our quite lengthy driveway, nervous that I'm going to have to go all the way down the block, toddler on hip. As I do so, the INDOOR ONLY cat runs out, because he is an ass. (see, there I go again) Dog is at the top of the driveway, blessedly, and when I snarl at him to get inside, he becomes instantly apologetic, bowing and scraping and showing me his belly. ("Yes, you're right, I AM a bad dog! Many apologies! Can't tell you how VERY sorry I am")

On the way back down the long driveway, I manage to scoop the big fluffy cat under my arm, and as I am heading inside, wriggling feline in one arm, squirmy toddler in the other, dog VERY anxious to make amends by constantly flopping at my feet to show me his oh-so-submissive belly, I think...

...yeah, ok, I'll write a blog.