Sign of the Times

There's a church across the street from where I teach, and there is a sign in front of the church that reads "No Torture!"

I think that's a very sane policy for a church to adopt. Are they including sermons that run really long and old ladies that sit in front of you with too much perfume in that policy? How about children who talk during services and kick the back of your seat? These are the details I'd like to know.

Dream a little Dream

Woke this morning from a dream in which my cousin/boss left me the following message:

"I heard through the grapevine that Lehman Brother's Realty has been waiting on a call from me, because they need me to do tours at a location undisclosed to all but my assistant. While this may not be as exciting as all the hormonally charged goings on at your house, they are still our biggest client, providing us with $90,000 a year, so in the future, I'd appreciate it if you'd pass along their messages."

Ha ha ha! So what we've learned is, I have such a guilty conscience over missing some messages that I am apparently now subconsciously blaming myself for the economic state of the NATION? Really?

I also dreamed that I was being held hostage on a bridge, by someone who clearly wanted to kill me, and I was trying to talk him out of it, but I had a terrible rash all over my arms, and I was CERTAIN that if he saw the rash, he'd go ahead and kill me. So I kept tugging my sleeves down past my fingertips and trying to be charming, so I could stay alive.

Analysis, anyone?

Wordless Wednesday- the Happy Birthday Baby Edition

Time Passages

Over the weekend, my darling little brother, heart of my heart, got engaged.
This brother, the one in my arms in this picture:



Granted, that picture is about 29 years old, but still, I feel the same way about the boy in it. And to be honest, it doesn't feel like it's been that long.

I won't tell the proposal story here, it's their story and not mine, but suffice it to say, there were roses, and candles, and a ladder was procured, there was a serenade, and a grand sweeping gesture...ahh, enough to make any old married lady swoon, much less a hopeful young girl. I'm utterly delighted for both of them, and couldn't be happier if it were my own romantic engagement. Both my adorable brothers are now engaged to lovely girls I'm excited to call my sisters.

When I told my Oldest, he said "Ah, that's cool. How do you think I should propose to S?"

How? Or did you mean, in how many decades? La la la la, I can't hear you talking about making that adult of a decision...

In other news, my Small One turns two tomorrow. At three thirty in the morning, two years ago tonight, I woke up after twenty minutes of restless sleep, and my water broke, and just over twelve hours later we welcomed this little girl, who has kept us hopping ever since.


I can't believe it's been that long, it seems like mere minutes, and I want to make it go slower, this precious time where she delights me almost every minute of the day. Every day there's a new concept, something else she's ecstatic to have learned. Yesterday, it was the concept of big and little.

She likes to point out large and small pairs of things and say "Aww, Mommy___ and Baby ___" Sometimes this is Mommy Bunny, Baby Bunny, other times it's Mommy Kitty, Baby Piggy- species does not figure into her reasoning. But yesterday, she brought me two dolls, one large, one small, and said, "Look! Mommy Baby and Baby Baby?"

This did not make sense, even to her, and her confusion was evident. I said "I think what you mean is 'Big Baby, Little Baby'." and her face brightened as she repeated it. "BIG Baby! LITTLE Baby!"

Later we were outside, and she was rolling a truck, when she stopped, and I could see the wheels turning. She said "Car!" and then looked at me like I was supposed to say something significant, and when I didn't she looked impatient and ran to her Ride-on Car and smacked it. "BIG CAR!", she yelled. Then she ran back to the other vehicle and looked at me. I said "Little car." and she grinned and said "LITTLE CAR!"

Aha! Yes, the mystery was solved. Thank you, Mom, for providing me with the correct terminology!

I'm sure it will seem to me to be tomorrow that she's asking me how she should proceed with her engagement.

Doctor Doctor, Give me the News

Actual speech given to me and my 14 year old by her pediatrician:

Ok, she started off rational enough:

"She doesn't really need the hpv vaccine yet, since she's not sexually active."

(I nodded and smiled, 14yo confirmed that she is indeed not sexually active, I said I have issues with unnecessarily giving such a new vaccine, and she continued...)

"Oh, and they don't know how long the antibodies last, either. The protection may just wear off after a certain number of years, and then there she'll be, and maybe she'll have a husband who goes all WOO HOO on her, and brings her home something! Because that's what these men DO! They reach a certain age, and who KNOWS what even goes on in their minds? It's like they have a brain fart or something and they go out there all WOOWOOWOO and then God only knows what they're bringing home."

(Yes, the large and bold indicates high pitch and high volume)

As you can imagine, I had no response to that. Unless you count stunned silence as a response.

In the car, my child said to me, "Did my dr just say that when I grow up, my husband is going to have a brain fart that will cause him to cheat on me and give me an std?"

Yes, my darling, I believe she did.

Conversing with the Insane

True conversation with the Middle Child, neither hyperbolized nor embellished:

Me- Ahh, too bad you're sick, tomorrow is the practice PSAT

MC- That's stupid. Why would I practice for the PSAT? It's not even something you're graded on. Sounds like a waste of time.

Me- No, it's good to practice, because you'll do better on it when you take it for real, and it'll help you on the SAT, which will help you get into a good college.

MC- Like Harvard?

Me- Yeah...I guess... but I don't really see you going to Harvard.

MC- (suddenly shrieking and crying! believe it or not! I'm not even kidding!) YOU'RE CALLING ME STUPID! YOU HAVE NO FAITH IN ME! YOU THINK I COULDN'T GET INTO HARVARD!!!!!!

Me- (taken aback, to say the least) Erm... Harvard is really expensive, for starters.

MC- (still at an unbelievable decibel level) YOU THINK I'M TOO STUPID TO GET A SCHOLARSHIP?!?!?!?!?!?

Me- (trying to regain my balance) Um... people who go to Ivy League schools typically are in one of two categories. Category A- Rich parents. Category B- Truly passionate about academics. Into which of these categories do you believe you fall?

MC- I'M TRYING TO BE IN THE SECOND ONE!!!!!!!! YOU CAN'T HOLD MY THREE WEEK PROGRESS REPORT AGAINST ME!!!! YOU DON'T KNOW ME AT ALL!!!!! (runs from the room, in hysterics)

Seriously? Have I mentioned that I homeschooled this child for 5 + years? Do I need to bring Ms. Kat up in here for a retelling of the nightmare that was Latin class? Seriously? Seriously.

I pulled up the cost of Harvard tuition online, but she gave me an injured glare and informed me she did not wish to discuss it further.

Alrighty, then.

Frenzied Friday

Such a day!

First, the good news. The Small One slept in her own bed ALL NIGHT! Well, ok, from 9:30 until 5:30, but that counts as all night, right? There was one moment, after midnight, when the man and I were watching a movie (silently, reading subtitles, so as not to wake her), when she thrashed about, woke herself up, and stood up. My dear husband stage whispered at me through his teeth, "DON'T LOOK AT HER!"

I didn't look at her. Then she put her head back down, and I peeked, and she popped back up, and the Man hissed at me! "WOMAN!"

It made me giggle. And then she lay her little self back down and that was that. Until 5:30.

Sadly, I did NOT sleep all night. I was not feeling well, and spent a great deal of time awake, and actually had JUST begun to doze when Small One woke up and joined us in our bed. Thankfully, she went back to sleep and slept until 7:45. (I would've preferred 9:15, but what can you do?)

Middle Child was home with a stomach flu, so of course there was much moaning and declining to do any chores, which made me tired again before I was even fully awake.

My sister in law had to have a procedure done today, and I was to drive her and then pick her back up, since she needed to be under general anesthesia. I was trying to be all organized (not my strong suit), and I had this great plan to get up this morning and be all perky and clever and put dinner into the crockpot before I left, and maybe even leave early. Uhh... no. Didn't happen.

I don't know if I've ever mentioned it here before, but I really think running a household full of kids is pretty much like giving a pig a pancake. And in case you don't know what I mean, I'm referring to the charming series of children's books (If You Give a Pig a Pancake, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, If You Give a Moose a Muffin, etc) that urge children to consider the consequences of their actions through the weaving of cautionary tales wherein one thing leads to another and soon you're building a tree house with a pig in your backyard, and your house is a wreck.

Anyhoo, if you want to make dinner before you leave to take your sister in law to the dr, first you'll have to force your Small Child to eat breakfast. She'll probably be in a clingy, whiny mood, and buck and squirm and resist, and refuse to eat anything but grapes, so you'll have to wash the grapes, and when you go to wash the grapes you'll remember that you were supposed to be washing a chicken in order to put it in the crockpot. In order to wash the chicken, you'll have to clear the Big Kids' breakfast dishes out of the sink so they don't get contaminated by chicken nasties, and when you do that, it'll cause the dishwasher to be full, so you'll need to run it. Turning on the dishwasher will remind you that your Oldest asked you to wash a particular shirt, so you'll go into the laundry room to start the washer. The howls of protest from your Small One will remind you that she is still not pleased with the idea of eating a waffle, so you'll go back in to wash the grapes, and come face to face with that chicken, still waiting to be washed and put in the crock pot. You'll wash it and get it started, but then you'll have to bleach the sink before you can wash the grapes...

Yeah, so you get the idea. I was NOT early. But I got there just in time, whisked her off to her appt, and since the Small One had by this time fallen asleep, we obtained permission from the nurse for me to drop the sister in law off and leave. The nurse was to call me on my cell when it was time to pick her up. Because I did not feel like driving all the way home, I went to a nearby mall and parked under a tree, intending to read while Small One napped. I kept turning the fan on and then back off, because it was hot out, and I ended up chatting with my mother on my cell for a while.

Whoopsie! Cell phone starts chirping out its sad little battery death song. I decide that a trip home must be made after all, to retrieve the charger. I turn the key in the ignition, only to hear the very disappointing ratatatatatat sound of a run down battery. Whoopsie part two! Seriously dumb move, all the fan turning on business. I call the Man, frantic. "I'm at the mall," I say, "at the corner of Bloomingdale's, behind the Container Store. I hate to say it, but I need you to grab my phone charger, bring it up to me, and jumpstart the car, because the car is dead and the phone could go at any second." He groans, but agrees.

Ten minutes pass. I turn the key again, and the engine roars to life. Hooray! Well, ok, but not really, because the Man is on his way here unnecessarily. I call to tell him I'll meet him halfway. He does not pick up. What?!?!? Did I mention I'm stranded with a dying phone? And a toddler? I try him again, and my phone dies. Argh.

About this time, Small One wakes, and says "Drive car, Mommy!" I explain her we're waiting for Daddy, but when ten more minutes pass, with no sign of Daddy, and Small One growing increasingly insistent, even throwing in some sign language in case I didn't understand what she meant by "drive car", I start circling the parking lot. When forty-five minutes have passed, I'm absolutely beside myself. It occurs to me that the gas station across from the mall might have a pay phone, so I head over there. I call the man, and he says "I'm here at Macy's and I don't see you." Argh again.

I'm twenty minutes late retrieving my sister in law, which obviously means I am not in the running for Sister In Law of the Year. She was quite good natured about it, to her credit. I dropped her off at home, and decided to stop at a local produce stand with the Small One, who'd at this point been in the car for about five hours, with very little respite. When I released her, she immediately started running laps around the support pole of the little shed, which, strangely enough, did NOTHING to quell the cries of "AREN'T YOU PRECIOUS?!?!?!" from the very enthusiastic produce lady.

In fairness, Small One was wearing this outfit, which does make her pretty hard to resist:
But! What I found very interesting is that the lady kept saying "Oh, you're a KEEPER! Your parents should KEEP you! You're a KEEPER!" What a weird way to compliment a child, by planting the question in her head as to whether her parents were planning on letting her stay. Besides which, does that woman ever start crowing "Oh, you're NOT WORTH KEEPING! Your parents should SELL you!" to any other children that come by? Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

Got home, raced around making dinner. Roast chicken, fresh butter beans, fresh cucumber and tomato salad, cornbread... quite an undertaking. As I'm putting the finishing touches on the dinner, Oldest breezes through the kitchen. "Hey, Mom, don't know if I told you, but I'm not eating here tonight- Dad's taking me to the football game, and then out to dinner!"

No, you didn't tell me. So I cooked this beautiful chicken for me, a toddler on a hunger strike, a teenager with a stomach flu, and my vegetarian husband. FanTAStic.

Will anyone blame me if I refuse to leave my bed tomorrow? I feel about like this:

Cousin Fun and the First Day of "School"

"School" has quotation marks for two reasons:

1. I teach, but not really at "school", rather at a home school group
2. Small One goes to Children's Morning Out while I teach, which is not technically "school", (as my Middle Child keeps pointing out with much eye rolling), but we call it school so she can be more excited over it. (C'mon! Would she be running around saying "Oh BOY!!! Children's Morning Out!!!"? I don't think so.)

Wednesday, Small One's cousin/bff came to play, and they had the kind of giggly, exploratory, exhausting good time I've always had with my cousin/bff. It made me happy and nostalgic all at the same time.I should mention, though, that one of my favorite pictures from this play date does not involve the small one, just her cousin...she's very intent on her task, but look over her shoulder.Yes, friends, something wicked (and furry) this way comes.

Anyway, back to today. Small One got so excited about school that she spent all morning yelling "OH BOY! SCHOOL!" (which sounds, actually, like "Oh Boiyee! Cool!") I love her. I spent last night getting UBERprepared- her bag was packed, my bag was packed, a sack lunch was involved, all things were labeled, I even laid out our clothes the night before. So why was I late? Yeah, one of my shoes went missing. That's how we roll!

Here is a picture of my Small One all ready for school.
Note the piggies on her shirt- those are her piggies, and if you don't believe me, just ask her. "MY Poggies!", she'll tell you. Note, also, the Elmo name tag. ("Melmo! Melmo!") She LOVES that name tag, though not for wearing. She absolutely refuses to wear it, so they went the route of writing her name on masking tape and sticking it to her back. Oh well, so much for the cute name tag.

When I took her to school, she yelled "Bye Bye, Mommy!" and was gone, without a backward glance. I think it was harder on me than it was on her.

My class went well. More students than I expected, which is lovely for my bank account! Bring on the students! Woo! Actually, my classes are still quite light, so I'm hoping that perhaps I'll pick up a few more students next week, when I begin in earnest. This week, I could only teach one class, because I had to pick Small up early, because that's the policy for "first timers".

I hadn't received the books I'd ordered for my class, so I had to sort of wing it today. It went fine, it was a good way to ease into it and get to know the students. I taught Kipling, and you can't go wrong with Kipling. (Maybe that'll be my new motto.) However, much to my bitter chagrin, when the books DID arrive, this afternoon, there were about 5 times as many as I ordered, including a bunch of resource materials I was not expecting... but all for the wrong grade! I guess I got someone else's shipment? What the heck?!?!? Of course, if I'd known that a month ago, I'd have just switched gears and taught a different grade, but now... well, it's an issue, isn't it? I truly hope I can get this resolved by next week, because otherwise, I'm going to look like an idiot. Bah!

When I picked up the Small One, she did not want to leave her school. That's really just SO great. Greater still, I discovered today that I am going to have some days off that she is NOT going to have. 4 whole hours all by myself, roughly once a month- what to do with all that free time?!?!?

An unexpected bonus- she was so worn out from "school" that she slept THREE and a HALF HOURS this afternoon! Woot!

They're SO cute when they're sleeping.

Ennui and Aeroplanes

We used to have an Edward Gorey calendar, and one page looked like this:

N is for Neville, who died of ennui.

Well, I don't know if it's really possible to DIE from being in a funk, but I will tell you this- it greatly dampens my creative spirit. Actually, it drains me of all will to accomplish anything at all, and causes me to wish only for my bed, and some fluffy movies. And chocolate. So this past week or so, following a couple of mild but bothersome illnesses and some rather dramatic personal politics, I entered such a funk, and am only just now climbing back out of it. It took three novels, half the book of Revelation, a funny movie, and several hours of doing absolutely nothing of consequence, but here I am, alive! A survivor of ennui.

Making it possible for me to take the necessary "do nothing" time was my fabulous Man, who had a three day weekend and spent much of it lounging about with me or playing with our Small One. He's quite a good Man, and a great Daddy, despite the fact that last weekend he

let her fall asleep in the car, which I hate, because it absolutely screws naptime

brought her in and laid her on our bed, next to an open 2 pound bag of m&m's AND a laptop

then left for a party, leaving me to deal with the aftermath

(Why I oughta...)

Seriously, who leaves a toddler alone with dark chocolate m&ms and a laptop?

Anyhoo, this weekend he was fabulous. We went to a Book Festival on Saturday, then on Sunday, we took the Small One to a playground we've only recently ever heard of, located right in the middle of a small airport. It was pretty cool, lots of little planes coming in and taking off, and some parked near enough that we could have touched them if we'd wanted to reach through the fence.
She had a really good time, despite the strange dreariness of the weather, and she really loves the quality time with Daddy.


I'm always sorry to see the weekend go- we need to go ahead and get independently wealthy so we can just play every day.

For my Mom