Saving Raphael...

Okay, let's talk about yesterday morning before 7:30am, shall we?

So... Brad's away (which of course is the only reason this kind of thing happens) and I'm getting the kids up and going so I can get them off to camp and still make it to work on time(ish).  Their camp is in the opposite direction from our house as is my office so we have to leave at about 7:30am in order for me to get to work on time.  (Obviously Brad takes them when he's in town).  So.. I'm a tasky kind of girl and there's a schedule in my head about what has to happen when so I can get them out the door without anyone getting upset. 

I'm up and showered on time - early even. Check.  I've got the end of Thursday's stage of the Tour on (I'm completely obsessed with it) and I have enough time to watch the very end of the stage which is perfect.  Check!  Jack's working on his pool bag. Check.  Ted's sort of moving.  Check-ish.  Lunch is started. Check.  Ted is now sitting up - sort of.  Check-ish-ish.  I'm downstairs making breakfast right on schedule and Teddy calls and tells me he needs my help.  Well of course he does - he's Teddy and not always able to perform simple tasks especially first thing in the morning - like say - find underwear or a shirt.  Whatever, I head upstairs to see what's going on - I got up early so I've got even more extra time than I normally build in. 

Ted: Mom, Raphael (the little catfish in his fish tank) is stuck and is going to die. 

I look and Raphael has adhered himself to the top of the little sunken ship in the middle of the fishtank and I'm not worried at all.

Me: Ted, he's fine.  In fact when you were at camp, Daddy thought he was dead cuz he was sitting in exactly the same spot for seemingly days.  Dad was all worried he was going to have to tell you he killed Raphael.  He even went so far as to take the ship out of the tank because he was so convinced he was dead and not until he was several steps away and he saw the poor fish try to breathe did he realize he was still alive and quickly got him back in the water.  So, he's fine, I promise.  Finish getting ready.

Ted: Mom, he's really stuck.  I swear he is. 

(at this point we have a whole back and forth something like this - he's not stuck he just likes it there, no he really is stuck and won't be able to eat and will die, no he's fine I swear it, Mom I promise you he is stuck you have to help him, no I promise you he's fine.)

Finally we get to...

Ted: If he dies, it's not my fault. 

Me: He's not going to die, but if he does, you're right - it'll totally be on me.

I start to leave and my big, strong, taller than me boy bursts into tears.  OMG - okay baby, I'll push him out of the way,  you'll see.  I reach in the tank and push Raphael out of the way so he'll swim somewhere else and damned if that fucking fish isn't compleltely stuck.  I pulled and pushed and did everything I could think of to get him out of there, but he'd somehow managed to wedge himself in between the fake barnacles and the deck of the ship.  My first thought - Fuck, there goes the schedule.  My second thought - it's probably in bad taste to take pictures for a future blog post while my son is crying.  My third thought is - I really don't like having my arms up to my elbows in the fish tank - ick.

Okay... hmmm how to unstick a fish?  I will cut off the barnacle.  I go downstairs and get a pairing knife cuz it's small and start sawing.  I'm barely making a dent.  This ship is made out of industrial strength resin of some sort.  This is going to take FUCKING hours, but you know my motto - the turtle wins the race - so I just stick with it.  Of course I'm deathly afraid I'm going to slice through the end of it and filet poor Rafael and there will be blood in the water both literally and figuratively, but I don't mention this to the boys - both of whom are watching intently now.  Finally I give that up and go in search of a sharper knife.  I go through a few options discarding them as I went - too big, too unwieldy, not sharp enough, until finally I had an aha moment.  I have jewery making tools upstairs and there is a wire cutting thingy in the shape of a small pair of pliers - this should work.  I dry the arms (for the 27th time) find the tool and head back to work.  It's like surgery - I have to get it in there just so - so as not to pinch (read: cut into ribbons) the fish, but still cut off the offending barnacle.  I get it in place and squeeze it home and viola!  It snapps off and Raphael can move!!! No blood!!  I tell Teddy he's free and the poor boy bursts into more tears.  Poor guy!!! 

Okay - let's see what we can do to salvage the schedule - Run downstairs, get the boys to get their bags packed, finish lunches, finish packing my lunch, make my chai, and all the while.... my beloved dog is barking at us - please don't leave me, please don't leave me, please don't leave me, please don't leave me, please don't leave me.  All we hear, though, is barkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbark breathe barkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbark breathe barkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbark breathe rinse lather repeate.  Finally I can't take any more of it and I snap.

WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP (as I'm storming after the dog with my fist raised) IF YOU DON'T FUCKING STOP BARKING, I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU DEAD, DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME YOU LITTLE FUCKER??

I'm sort of consious of the rest of the world enough to notice my cute little 10 year old looking up at his nearly 13 year old brother with glee in his eyes as if to say - Man, I love it when mom cracks.  He was full out laughing by the time I'd finished yelling at the dog.  The dog wisely hid under the table for at least 30 seconds before he started barking again.  And my boys wisely didn't say a single word about the incident.  We headed off to camp and I was less than 10 minutes late to work.

Have a lovely day!

bad parenting, the massacre, and us

More evidence of good parenting…

So – Jackson’s head is healing nicely and this is a good thing.  I’m wildly anal about making sure there is sunscreen on his scar at all times.  There are sticks of sunscreen in my purse, his backpack, his baseball bag, and both our cars in addition to the plentiful supply I have in the house.  On Saturday before Jackson had a football game followed by a golf outing with our friend Jamie and Brad and Teddy I put sunscreen on the scar and then headed out to take Teddy to his baseball game.  We met up for lunch between the games and golf and I reminded him and Brad to put more sunscreen on before they went golfing – okay all taken care of, right?  Yeah well.  His scar was white as a ghost at the end of the day but the rest of his face, a vee in his chest and his legs were, however, burnt to a crisp.  Oops.  Poor boy.

The mutant ninja massacre

Wow am I lucky or what?  All three boys went golfing on Saturday and I got to have the house to myself for several house.  It was bliss.  Okay, well… it was going to be bliss.  Seriously.  I even had a small mountain of laundry to do, and I was completely excited about cranking up the tunes and cranking it out while I had The.  House.  To.  Myself!!  Best laid plans and all…

So, there I am, first load in, tunes blaring away, I’m singing at the top of my lungs.  All is right with the world.  I’m wandering around cleaning this, putting that away, thinking of napping, thinking of reading.  You know how it is.  I decide I need some water; I’m suddenly not drinking enough water especially on the weekends.  I practically skip down the stairs and into the kitchen when something out of place catches my eye in the family room.  Our house is really open so you can basically see into all rooms at all times and there’s something scattered on the family room floor.

This isn’t the big surprise it should be.  Have you met my children?  Okay, well maybe not, but let me tell you they are messy little things.  And then there’s the dog – who I’m sure I’ve mentioned I don’t love.  If Bandit gets pissed he gets destructive.  It’s usually some poor hapless stuffed animal and we find tufts of stuffing flung around the house in little piles.  Based on what I’m seeing out of the corner of my eye, I’m thinking I’m going to have Bandit to thank for what I’m about to clean up.  Eh.. I’m alone, life it good.  Bandit can not ruin my mood.

Okay, I was wrong about that.  Big sigh, let’s go pick up whatever needs picking up and move on, shall we… Okay, not so fast.  My behated dog (that’s a new word and it’s maybe my new favorite) has systematically dismembered a turtle - and unfortunately not one of the stuffed persuasion - on the floor of my family room.  There were blood and guts and shell pieces all over the floor.  Every where I looked my horror increased.  It was the single most vile thing I’ve ever seen in my life – but a fair margin.

I am not a typical girl in most situations.  Generally I just roll up my sleeves and do what needs doing.  I’m here to tell you, I met my limit.  I was a total girl.  I started flapping my arms and saying; Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God.  I finally got enough of a hold of myself to get the dog locked outside and to keep from totally losing my cookies.  Then I did what any self respecting girl would do… I went upstairs and hid.  I called Brad and was not surprised to get his voice mail as they were golfing.  I waited a while and called him back and left a very simple, if extremely flat voiced message.  “I need you to call my at your earliest convenience.” 

Of course Brad didn’t get the message until he had pulled into the driveway, but upon hearing how I sounded he called immediately and sent the boys to play instead of letting them come inside.  I told him I’d be right down and once there apologized for being a complete girl (which is new) and explained how I needed him to be the man (which he has no problem with).  He did his best to calm the strange zombie like creature in front of him before he went inside.

He later described it as similar to cleaning a crime scene which I’m hopeful he only knows from watching TV and not from first hand experience, though we’re never ever going to speak of it again so I will never know.

Anyone want a used Jack Russell Terrier?  He’s really cute, I swear he is.

And finally... a family picture

Taken on Easter and not so good of me cuz I’m all leaned back on the slouchy couch – but aren’t my boys cutie-pies???

 

The ipad as crack and funky servers

I've been totally absent and that's never good for me.  Here's a few things to catch up.

The ipad as crack
It's an amazing thing.  I'm sure that's true, though I don't know this from first hand experience.  I got Brad one for his birthday.  It was a great present because he wanted one so badly and he thought I was going to put up a real fight about it.  The problem is its crack-like properties.  It's only been in the house for a week and already all three males are completely addicted.  As an example Jackson comes into my room at 6am this morning.  Brad and I were still sleeping.  He marches over to my side of the bed (cuz he's nobody's fool and knows not to poke the sleeping bear on the other side of the bed) and immediately starts whining.
Jack: Mo-om, Teddy got up at 4 and has been playing the ipad the whole time don't you think it should be my turn now?
Me: uh... what?
Jack: It's not fair.  He set his alarm for 4 and he's been playing this whole time.  (let me break in here and say it normally takes an act of congress to get Teddy out of bed)
Me: I'm sleeping here, is it fair that you just came in and woke me because you want to play a video game?
He left with his tail between his legs because as I said - he's no fool.

But... this isn't the first time.  Clearly I am the fool as it's taken me this long to think about doing something about this powerful drug in our home.  Earlier this week, they both together slammed into my room looking for the damn thing (again this means that Teddy was up before anyone bodily pulled him from the bed) waking me before they slammed out again.  There's been constant whining and fighting about the need to get their fix - even Brad has gotten in on it. 

Of course here's the best part.... Teddy gets up at 4am this morning and discovers his eye all gunked up and uncomfortable, what does my very bright boy (who's now taller than me by the way) do???  He wipes it off and desperately makes his way to get his fix on.  Phew, that was close.  He gets his soccer game up and he's finally able to get the shakes under control, even if he can't completely see the screen.  Does he mention his eye problems to his parents this morning? No.  No he does not.  Does he think about possibly spreading whatever he's got that caused said gunk?  No he does not.  So he happily heads off to school high on the soccer game and hands over the ipad to his brother (who's not doing his homework by the way!!) who happily gets his shakes under control with Angry Birds.  Teddy gets to school and realizes his eye is really still bothering him.  So... now our brain trust tells his teacher - I think I've got pink eye.  He was home within the hour.  After Jackson got his fix on and Brad got his as well.  My hypochondriac husband immediately complained of eye problems. 

Our CFO is gone
He's in Ireland for two weeks where his son is studying abroad.  I'm so thrilled for him I can't stand it.  While he's gone, of course, I take care of whatever he might have handled.  This wouldn't be a problem if he wasn't also our IT Manager.  He just happens to have a personal affinity for it and we are lucky to have someone so capable of wearing two such distinct hats.  I've been the number two IT person for years and for the most part have the company fooled about my abilities.  I can talk a good game and know who to call who can walk me through whatever needs to be handled - but the reality is - I'm mostly freakin clueless.

Normally things run very smoothly and and I'm just making sure the back ups work properly.  No biggie.  Yeah, well in these two weeks we've had 4 separate servers go down, been attacked by man eating viruses, had to shut part of or the whole system down multiple times, had two computers have to be taken out of the building to be repaired or rebuilt and about a million other things that I can't remember at the moment.  Any thought of doing any part of my job was killed very early last week.  I've met every single employee of our outside IT consultant firm; I'm hosting a happy hour tonight.

Oh and now the President has also gone away for two days.  Yippee... Seriously.  And today is monthend.  What am I doing?  Am I doing one of the million things that I need to get done before I leave tonight??  Uh that would be a no - I'm blogging.  Cuz, as I've previously pointed out - I'm a fool.

The Christmas party and the space cadet

The Christmas Party

Was great fun!  Dare I say a big success?  Why yes, yes I do dare.  We added more groups of people this year like the parents of kids our kids play various sports with (well the ones we like anyway) and some old college friends I just discovered live in the area and there was an unexpected and totally lovely mix of people.  Several of the new people we invited knew people who come every year and so it was fun to see how people know each other – it really is a small world – okay – maybe not that small since the vast majority of the people who came all live in the same county… Still it was cool to see.  

We had such a wonderful time!  We haven’t done a final head count, but we had 70 yes RSVPs on evite, so I expect it was somewhere in that neighborhood.  We’ll be doing the post mortem later this week where I go through everything I served plus everything people brought and make notes about what we needed more or less of.  I have found the list invaluable, but it’s truly something that needs to be done within a couple of weeks or so of the party or our old brains start deteriorating.  

Space Cadet one to Air Head two

Last night was the 2^nd of a two day middle school concert extravaganza – I know you’re all jealous again!  Day one (Monday) was for band; jazz, lower, and upper.  Teddy and Matt (our neighbor and his best friend) are both percussionists in the upper band. Then last night was for chorus and orchestra.  Brad’s going to take Ted separately to get there on time and I was going to follow with Jack a bit later.  Just as Teddy was putting on his coat there was furious pounding on our door.  I rushed to open it and it’s Matt in full concert wear and his mom Lisa.

Lisa: Space Cadet 1 needs to talk to Air Head 2.  Space Cadet 1 has no bell mallets or music for what they’re playing tonight?

Me: um… Playing?  I thought that was last night, they’re singing tonight.

L: They’re doing both.  I think Ted’s playing for two groups and Matt for one, but Matt needs to make sure Ted has the music for the thing they’re doing together and he’s managed to misplace his.

Me: (In my head I’m thinking…. No way in Hell does my air head have any music.  This was the very first time I had heard he was doing anything other than singing for the chorus concerts so I certainly have never once suggested he practice his drum parts for chorus – and there’s no way on earth he’d think to do it on his own…. We are talking about Teddy here.) but out loud I said – Come on in, he’s just putting on his coat.

Matt – (rushing in) Do you have the music?

Ted: (looking totally clueless) What music?

M: For the bell piece

T: What bell piece?

M: (big exasperated sigh) The one we’re playing with the 6^th grade chorus.

T: (serious deer in headlight look…. Then) Oh. My. Gosh.  Dad!  We’ve got to stop at the school!! (the concert was at a different school).

Me: Um, honey, the school is long closed.

T: But we’ve got to!

Me: Not going to happen, you’ll just have to do your best.

T: (deep breath, then looking at Matt) Okay, we’ll be fine.

They sounded great and looked like they knew what they were doing up on stage, but later Teddy reported that they’d totally screwed it up…. oops!  Oh well, what’re you going to do?

I am thankful for.....

• My beautiful Teddy - though he constantly challenges me with his teenage attitude he never ceases to amaze me with his thoughtful curiosity and beautifully gentle ways (when he forgets to hide those parts from us).  
• My amazing Jackson - his witty, dry, humor keeps us laughing even while he's creating the mischief only his warped brain can find.
• My husband Brad - I know confidently I'm a better person for having his kindness and love and support in my life and my children are truly blessed for having such a big kid as such a loving protector.
• My life that allows me to be writing this from the Wilderness Lodge in the happiest place on earth while my husband and kids are wrapping up an early morning trip to the Magic Kingdom (letting mommy sleep in a bit) before we all head over to Blizzard Beach for an afternoon frolicking in the water before coming back to have a Thanksgiving Day bar-b-q with Mikey and friends before heading out on a pirate ship to watch the fireworks - who does this?  So much fun and we are so blessed to be able to do it!!!
• My friend Camille who knows every part of me; the good, the bad, the perverted and warped, the goofy and deranged, the kinky, the scared, the hopeful and the doubtful and loves me for (not despite) all of it.
• This on-line community that has allowed me to connect with so many people I might have lost forever or never met at all!

And so many, many other things I can't begin to single out - I am truly blessed and hope to take more time this year to appreciate every bit of it.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!!

Mom-of-the-Year.... The fish died.

We suck as parents; fish and otherwise.  My poor Teddy has lost every pet that’s ever been only his.  First there was the gecko; supposedly the easiest animal to keep as a pet.  I don’t even remember his name, but you have to feed the gecko live crickets, which is fine.  But that means you have to keep a cage for the crickets you haven’t yet fed him and feed the crickets.  Yeah, okay.  So we bought this gross gel stuff and fed the crickets and fed the crickets to the gecko.  Great, right?  Yeah.. well, we are useless.  That’s all I can say.  We didn’t read the bottle of gel cricket food.  It has to be refrigerated after opening (come on, seriously we have to refrigerate cricket food?)  Anyway, we didn’t do that and the food became “bad” and we fed the crickets anyway and then we fed the now tainted crickets to the gecko and he died.  Oops.  Teddy was heart broken.

Then there were the hamsters.  Two dwarf robo (I think) hamsters who he named “Dwarf” and “Robo”.  One night I go in there for bedtime and check the hamster’s water; which I would have said I did regularly (apparently I can be a little spacey too) and it was empty.  So what did Mom-of-the-Year do?  She started in on the lecture about how if you don’t give your hamsters water they will die.  This is your responsibility, Ted.  You convinced us you were old enough and mature enough to handle this…. you get the idea.  One of the hamsters was sitting there at his nearly empty food bowl shaking.  Ut oh.  They need water and they need it now!!!  I went to fill a little tray with water to put right in front of their mouths telling Ted to find the other one and see if we can get them in the same place.  I’m on my way back when Ted comes barreling into my arms hysterical. 

Yup, Mom-of-the-Year here.  None of you can claim the title.  It’s mine.  I had just asked my kid to dig around in his hamster cage until he came across the dead hamster.  OMG.  I know I haven’t survived that trauma yet, Ted seems to have fared a bit better.  What the hell was I thinking?  Anyway, the 2^nd one died, a slow and I’m sure painful death about an hour later with Teddy and Brad looking on.  It was not a good night.  We did our best to back peddle and take all the blame so he wouldn’t be scarred for life, but, it was just another banner day in his life with pets.  Jackson’s are still alive and well.

And now it’s the fish. 

This time I do, in fact, think it’s totally Brad’s fault.  Ted desperately wants to care for a pet of his own.  We thought…. How hard could fish be?  Brad took him to the pet store and they came home with a tank too small for a heater and 2 balloon mollies; Tom and Joey. Of course the pet store people knew what they were doing and told them it was probably going to be okay.  But mollies apparently do much better in heated water.  And if you leave the light on all the time (in a non-heated tank it’s the only source of heat) then you encourage algae growth.  Yadda yadda yadda.  Whatever!  First Joey died and then Tom didn’t look so good, so Brad cleaned the tank and somehow Tom survived that and looked a bit better and then I went to the store for more supplies and this is when I learned that mollies are considered tropical and should be in a heated tank and yadda yadda yadda.  I bought the tank and Ted and I set it up last night.  I was told to let the filter and heater go for 24 hours before you add the fish, but we decided we’d just wait till morning because Tom didn’t look so good again.  Well he was dead this morning.  Teddy said he didn’t care at all in the way only a near teenager can manage.  We suck.

The Basement, Disney, and the Party

The basement

is nearly done!  The mountain of boxes that was our foyer is now gone!!!  Woo hoo!!!  I can’t tell you how lovely it is to see from one room across the foyer into the other room again.  The fact that this now highlights the disaster that is both rooms is something better left unsaid.  There’s a little problem with the new carpet and Brad and I did our good cop (him) – bad cop (me) routine with their rep yesterday.  The rep totally saw the problem (a long seam that doesn’t meet flatly, it peaks up and I’m afraid the dog will snag it cuz it’s higher than the rest of the carpet) and immediately diagnosed the problem as….. a bad dye lot from the manufacturer.  LOLOLOLOL.  Can you say pass the buck?  No, it’s not our installer that didn’t stretch the carpet correctly; it’s the carpet manufacturer who sent out carpet that has some color variation (which we clearly don’t have enough experience to see).  Mmmkay, whatever you say as long as my issue is ultimately fixed, I don’t really care how you go about doing it.

Disney World

We’re leaving in three days, I’m so excited and… well… maybe.. just a little bit freaking out too.  My brain has been on other things; the basement, the mountain of boxes, the carpet issue, work, kids, sports, the wonderful old friend I've recently reconnected with who we had over to watch my poor Skins be annihilated last night, etc…   But now.. Seriously… I can’t put off thinking about it any longer.  It’s… Three.  Days.  Away.  Holy shit.  I’ve gone so far as to create a staging area and put a handful of things on it (sunscreen, goggles, and pool toys totally count as a handful).  But that’s it.  Tonight I’m going to Target to get some travel sized things for the kids and a few other odds and ends.  And then I guess I have to go home and pack for me and the boys because did I mention…

Brad is out of town.  Dork!  Okay, it’s not his fault, but come on.  Seriously, you have a good night sleep down there in NC!  Watch a little TV, go to the movies, hey, maybe go out and have a few good meals at a few of your favorite restaurants, you know you will anyway!  I’ll just be up here making sure our suitcases are packed.  You don’t worry about us up here at all.  By the time you get your pretty little head back up here the suitcases will be by the door, the house will be ready for the painters to come while we’re gone, the new fish tank will be installed and the fish WILL NOT DIE and the hamster cage will be cleaned and the boy who’ll be caring for both will have been trained…. Really, I’ve got this.  Don’t you worry at all.  It’s just a little laundry, summer clothes hunting, cleaning, moving, packing, shopping and whatnot.  Sure, I’ve still got to go to work every day and make sure the rug rats get fed and get their homework done – no problem.  Really, I’ve got this.

The Party

Happens 1 week (that’s 7 days) from when we get home from Disney.  I’m thrilled!!!  I love this time of year!  I love, love, love my house at this time of year.  Okay, that’s a lie – at this actual, specific, moment I sort of hate my house.  It’s completely dusty from the recent basement work. (Brad changed the family room ceiling fan to turn in the opposite direction last night and we were all showered by huge hunks of dust falling from it – how lovely.)

The plan was to have the house just about decorated before we left for Disney which if you’ll remember is in 3 days.  Um… yeah, I don’t think so.  We are having our hallways painted while we’re gone – again – woo hoo, that’s freaking fantastic!!!  But, of course that means I can’t put up any garland on the railings or the tree above the front door, or certain pictures on certain walls, but oh well..  There are 2 trees up and in the correct rooms.  Just because they are standing square in the middle of the rooms is not reason to panic.  Just because we haven’t even identified the movers who will come to our house on the Monday after we’re home (5 days before the party) to move all the excess furniture down to the basement where it belongs is no reason to panic.  Just because our house was just registered as a national disaster area with legos and stuffed animals and kinex and so many nerf weapons I can’t stand myself flung haphazardly around every friggin’ flat surface and we’re leaving in 3 freaking days is not a reason to panic.  That there are 8 or so of our closest friends coming over the day after we get back (6 days before the party) to help us “finish” decorating (Please note the quotes around the word finish.  As if we’re close enough to be ready for that), that may be a reason to panic.  (hanging head in shame.)

It’s a good thing I’m going to see my patron saint Eeyore – I need me some good pity parties.