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.

A story by Jackson

Once upon a time a kid named Bill was walking down to the creek with his buds Jim, Bob, Bonnie, Billy, Bobby, Jackie, Jack, another Jackie, Jackson, Ben Cameron, Will Ryan, Willie, Tim, Timothy, Justin, Jamie, Jessica, Jennifer, Harry, Ainsley, Niall, Siama, Yashas, Kate, Katie, Sol, Josh, Joshie, Joshua, Carlos, Calvin, Hobs, Hope, Grace, Jon, Chris, Brittney, Clyde, Larry, Jerry, Gary, Spongebob, Buddy, Guy, Pat, Friend, Bud, Thomas, Able, Jason, Jason, Queen Elizabeth I, Queen Elizabeth III, Queen Elizabeth II, Morese, Cathrine, Ashley, Renee, Christine, Uma, Sryia, Anagam, Soun-Young, Susan, Teddy, Syney, Sydney, Devlin, Matt, Matthew, Jake, Jakie, Jacob, JJ, Gracie, Lara, Nitya, Isah, Emily, Theresa, Sophie, Chae, Neha, Brad, Brandon, Pam, Drake, Alara, David, Christopher, Dell, Mary-Ann, Marylyn, Mary, Parker, Joe, Zoe, Jo, Joey, Joseph, Cashi, Idila, Camela, Kev, Kevin, Michael, Gabe, Chandler, Shae, London, Jimmy, and Jim-Bob to have a picknic by the fish, water, trees, grass, birds, vines, swamps, lizards, and snakes. Eventually Chae got bit by; snakes, lizards, birds, and monkeys then she figured out the snake was poisonous so she got knocked out then every one fought for which of ten friends would take her to the hospital for ten hours. Then Zeus came down with all the other gods and tortured Chae.

Later in Minneapolis Odie had exploded from the…. Poodle Factory and stole the fur off the poodle then had a cup of tea (ya know cause he was thirsty) then dies, then burps.

The end.

What a day!!!

So... it all started with an appointment with m doctor at 9:15am. I got up and did 40 min on the treadmill, showered, talked to the contractor, packed my lunch and was pulling out of the driveway at 9:00am on the dot. I was feeling all kinds of proud of myself - that was exactly when I wanted to leave as my doctor is less than five minutes from my house... perfect. I'm heading down the main street of my neighborhood when a little notification pops up on my phone. I look down and what does it say? Dr. appt - 9:00am. FUCK! Okay, well, as I said I'm only 5 min to her door so I floor it, thinking I'll be a couple of minutes late and oh well... I get to the end of the road, check for cars and accelerate out of the turn out of my neighborhood... except... oops... perhaps I was a little over excited as I hit the curb at about 20 MPH and climbing. "That's gonna leave a mark."

I keep going, waiting for the tire to flatten which doesn't happen. I get there only to realize it was my alarm reminding me 15 min early for my 9:freaking:15 appointment. Ok - well I'm there in plenty of time... I didn't even look to see what I'd done to my car. Appointment goes well, no issues and off I go.

Get to work, get stuff done. Oh wait - idiot boy in the office - the one who thinks he's all that - he sends and email to the President of my company about our AR person who reports to me. Let me first say that this woman was born to collect money. She is flat out brilliant at it. The CEO is more than half in love with her, the President, the CFO, me, and the presidents of all our divisions all think she walks on water. Anyway - idiot boy likes to puff out his chest whenever possible and in this case, instead of asking the AR person to also give her reports to him, he created this long story about this shit and that shit and sent it directly to not her, not her supervisor, not her boss's boss, but the President of our company, cc-ing the President of his division. Jesus God I hate stupid people. Like if you want to make someone look bad, perhaps you should pick someone who isn't brilliant at her job by every measure that counts! Of course the President just forwarded it to me, as he's usually a sane sort, and said please respond to idiot boy (Okay he didn't really say that, but I'm sure that's what he meant). It ended up all fine of course, but jeez it took some stupid time out of my day which I didn't have to give. Did I mention I seriously hate stupid people!

Okay - then I head out in the late afternoon to take the deposit to the bank and guess what??

My tire is flat. Look, you can even see where my rim is messed up there near the bottom on the left. Oops... did I tell you I had a history of incidents with curbs that jump out and get right in my way while driving. No? Well, good, never mind then.

Okay, forget about the bank, someone else can go. Am I fully capable of changing my tire. Yes, absolutely. Am I remotely willing to do so if there is another option. Not so much. This is what I pay AAA for, right? I give them a call, and out they send a very cute, tow truck guy who comes out and puts a little donut on the front of my car and all is well....

Until I get back into my office and my husband calls.


Brad: Teddy is okay

this is never ever a good way to start a conversation.

Me: okay (I can hear they're in a car and I'm thinking they're on the way to the hospital - thank God I have the donut!!)

B: And he wants you to know that it isn't Bandit's fault at all, it's 100% his fault. He was very insistent that I tell you that.

M: OMG, what the hell happened?

B: Bandit bit him. We're on the way back from the doctor and they decided not to give him stitches... yadda, yadda, yadda.

M: what happened.

B: Ted had Bandit in his lap and and was tapping a pencil on the table getting Bandit to pounce on it so they could play tug of war. And eventually Bandit got more than the pencil. There were several chewed up pencils on the table so this "game" had been going on a while.

M: so our brain trust of a son was holding a pencil while teaching the dog to bite said pencil?

B: that about covers it.

M: is it wrong to comment on his stupidity?

B: I hope not.

America's worst finder

The shoes
Me: Teddy, come on buddy, we've got to go.

Ted: Okay, I've just got to get my shoes, they're up in my room. (He runs up to get them. He runs back down. Looks in the family room. Goes back upstairs. Comes back down and tries the dining room.)

M: Ted! Come on, we're going!

T: (completely annoyed and put upon) I can't find my shoes. (He's pulling pillows off the couch)

Brad (who just now clued into what's going on): I think I put them on the stairs. (Right on the bottom where Ted had just passed four separate times)

Ted walks over to the stairs and then looks up at me sheepishly: I guess this is just another example of being the world's worst finder.


The socks
We're going roller skating for Teddy's birthday and we need to bring longer socks. Jack doesn't own a single pair and the only ones Ted has are his black socks worn when performing in school concerts. But there are plenty of those so we'll be fine.

Me: Ted will you grab a second pair of black socks for Jackson?

Ted: sure

Several minutes and some banging - mo-om I can only find one pair of black socks. we never use them, they should be sitting in his sock drawer, this should be an easy one. Look again! There aren't any. I come upstairs and there are 5 pairs in the top nearly empty drawer.

T: Oh, hmmm, I found this pair on the floor, I didn't think to look in a drawer.

M: uh huh....


The swords
Ted: Mo-om Jack won't tell me where my swords are.

Jack: I just told you they're in my cubby.

Ted: NO THEY'RE NOT (12 is a delightful age for a boy)

Jack: Geesh! I'll show you. (walking towards the mudroom cubbies with arms raised and hands waving spookily) "Look, I'm about to magically teleport them 'oogakajukababa'.

The cubbies are roughly a foot wide and a foot deep and maybe 4 feet tall and Teddy (aka "America's worst finder") couldn't find two 3 foot Nerf swords in one of them.

We're very proud.

65 Questions

65 Questions You've Probably Never Been Asked...you know the rules. Tag people in this note (including the person who tagged you!) to learn more about people. Also, try to tag people who you've tagged in other notes, sometimes you learn things in new notes that you didn't know before about them...

1. First thing you wash in the shower?

My hair

2. What color is your favorite hoodie?

heather gray

3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

yes

4. Do you plan outfits?

um... not so much

5. How are you feeling RIGHT now?

Tired and annoyed

6. What’s the closest thing to you that's red?

My hair, though my kids would say it's orange. My sheets though I suppose burgundy is the real color. A mini sewing kit that is true red is on my dresser.

7. Tell me about the last dream you remember having?

Man I don't remember the specifics, but I remember after about 10 minutes of being up and about it dawned on me it was just a dream and I was seriously relieved I didn't have to deal with whatever it had been about.

8. Did you meet anybody new today?

No, but I met a nice man at Jackson's football practice yesterday.

9. What are you craving right now?

sleep

10. Do you floss?

rarely

11. What comes to mind when I say cabbage?

icky bad smell

12. Are you emotional?

publicly - nope privately - yup

13. Have you ever counted to 1,000?

Knowing me, probably. But I don't remember doing it.

14. Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it?

definitely both.

15. Do you like your hair?

very much so

16. Do you like yourself?

most of the time.

17. Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush?

hmmm, I suppose so, but I can't imagine what we'd have in common.

18. What are you listening to right now?

The muted sounds of the TV from downstairs

19. Are your parents strict?

Not even a little bit.

20. Would you go sky diving?

I don't think so

21. Do you like cottage cheese?

Yes

22. Have you ever met a celebrity?

Yes

23. Do you rent movies often?

Nope

24. Is there anything sparkly in the room you're in?

does my personality count - LOLOL

25. How many countries have you visited?

2

26. Have you made a prank phone call?

Yes, but not for many, many years

27. Ever been on a train?

Yes

28. Brown or white eggs?

Either but usually white.

29.Do you have a cell phone?

Yes

30. Do you use chapstick?

if forced to, I greatly prefer Blistex or Carmex.

31. Do you own a gun?

No

32. Can you use chop sticks?

Yes

33. Who are you going to be with tonight?

Man, I hope no one. :)

34. Are you too forgiving?

I don't think anyone has ever accused me of this.

35. Ever been in love?

Yes

36. What is your best friend(s) doing tomorrow?

No idea, hanging out with her kids I'd guess.

37. Ever have cream puffs?

Yes

38. Last time you cried?

A few weeks

39. What was the last question you asked?

Why are you acting this way?

40. Favorite time of the year?

It would be fall, but that brings winter and that's just no good. So I have to say spring.

41. Do you have any tattoos?

Yes and I still love it today as much as I did the day I got it.

42. Are you sarcastic?

Oh yes.

43. Have you ever seen The Butterfly Effect?

Nope

44. Ever walked into a wall?

No doubt

45. Favorite color?

Red or orange

46. Have you ever slapped someone?

I'm sure I have

47. Is your hair curly?

very

48. What was the last CD you bought?

Some old Bruce Springsteen

49. Do looks matter?

sure they do

50. Last text you received?

Cool. Is that a first for him?

51. Is your phone bill sky high?

I don't think so

52. Do you like your life right now?

Parts of it.

53. Do you sleep with the TV on?

No.

54. Can you handle the truth?

Yes.

55. Do you have good vision?

I used to, I'm not sure I can say that so definitively right now

56. Do you hate or dislike more than 3 people?

hmmmm. I'm not sure I hate anyone and as I dislike stupid people intensely I'd say that's way, way more than three.

57. How often do you talk on the phone?

Not too often.

58. The last person you held hands with?

hmmm, probably Jackson. Ted and I walked for quite a ways today with our arms around each other's waist and shoulder - does that count? (and while we were walking that way, I was thinking how lucky am I that my 12 year old son will walk with his arm around my waist)

59. What are you wearing?

tan jeans, a green top, and a pink fleece

60.What is your favorite animal?

Not Bandit....

61. Where was your default picture taken?

On the South River

62. Can you hula hoop?

I doubt it. I'm not too bad on Wii.

63. Do you have a job?

Yup

64. What was the most recent thing you bought?

McDonalds

65. Have you ever crawled through a window?

Yes.

consider yourself tagged. :)

I am not a techno-idiot. I swear, I'm not.

I am not a techno-idiot. I am also not an IT wiz, but I usually do okay. Maybe something new will take me a couple of tries, but I'll get it - the way I use computers is just not rocket science.

But then Jackson had to finish his "Me Poster". I need to print out some things previously typed in Word and then print out some pictures and we'll do a little pasting and viola we're done. No big deal. I print the Word stuff no problem. Now it's time to print some pictures. I have a Mac - this kind of thing is super easy. I've done it countless times. I grab my cute little HP photo printer and photo paper and hook it up to my laptop in the kitchen.

Hmmm, the printer isn't getting power. It must be that I'm using an extension cord, it must not be getting enough juice or the connection isn't quite right. Okay, no biggie, I'll just move the laptop and the printer to the island so it's all next to each other and next to an outlet. Done.... Wait.. still no power. I fool around with the end that's in the outlet and if I unplug it and plug it back in it gets power for approximately two seconds and then it goes blank. I am fully prepared to hold the plug in a specific place for the length of a couple of pictures, but no matter what I do with the power cord at either end - I can only get the printer to power up for about 2 seconds before it dies. It doesn't seem to have the slightest thing to do with how far in or out any of the connections are, or any other logical kind of thing. 2 seconds and then it's dead. Okay scratch that. I may have let out a few primal screams by this point. Maybe considered throwing the cute little printer across the room. Maybe the kids were mildly afraid of their mom.

I didn't mention that we did the rest of the work yesterday and left the layout for tonight. It was just some quick printing and some gluing. Jackson had flag football practice from 6 to 7, then I stopped and picked up some fast food for him so we'd have enough time to finish the poster and now after the demise of the cute little HP it's close to 8:30 - which is Jackson's bedtime.

But okay, plan B. We'll just print the pictures on regular paper on the main printer (the one I had just used to print the Word document). I've done that lots of times too. I pull up iphoto, highlight the picture I want. Size it as desired. Choose File then Print. I change the printer to the correct one (which took me a minute to figure out, I'll admit) and clicked okay. I got an error message - printer offline. What? You just printed. I went and added more paper - I added paper to a different tray too that I thought the printer might like, and tried again. I then had trouble remembering how to delete a print job from my Mac - as I was thinking if I deleted the job I could start again and narrow the parameters further. A few more screams later. Maybe a bit more fear. eh. Okay, job deleted (it's super easy as I knew it was, but as my friend suggested, I'm just hexed tonight.

I try again. I try with printer paper. No go. With plain paper. Nope. I've examined and tried all possible parameters and in every case, it goes offline. The printer looks fine. Oh wait, it's just spitting out blank paper. I turn it on and off. I reboot my computer. I try again. Offline. Very loud scream. Ok, well I do have a third printer upstairs. I think it came free with a computer at some point. I go get it, hook it up to the laptop. I set about doing teh same thing, only I choose the new (third) printer and the printer starts making printing noises. Woo Hoo! Maybe we'll get somewhere. Jackson and I are staring at it with baited breath, hoping against hope that it will print the 3 pictures we've chosen. According to what we're seeing on the screen, they should all print nicely 3x5" on one piece of paper. Easy peasy. But instead what comes out is basically a screen print of the folder within iphoto that I was choosing the pictures from, including pictures of the edit buttons along the bottom of the program. I get one picture I wanted but the others are cut off.

A picture of the "screen print" that I got to print.

I scream a bit more. It's now 9pm and Jack is very tired. I desperately want to throw some hardware across the room, or maybe off the back deck. Jack's been diligently cutting out all the things he needed to cut out. I keep at it. It's just not working. I'm diligently banging my head against the nearest flat surface. Finally I go back to trying just one picture. If I can just get this one picture we'll be golden. Several more attempts and I'm finally able to get our first choice picture to print. The fact that it took up every bit of an 8 1/2 x 11 sheet of paper is just a bonus - not a problem... right? I tell Jackson I've got some good news and some bad news. I got the picture to print, but it's an entire sheet of paper. My delightful child says.. "We can make that work!" I just need to re-print the Word document because Jack accidentally severed one of the things and then we're done. I go ahead and send it to the main printer as it's already worked for that tonight. It's not a picture. Just words. Nope, the printer is offline and there's no way I can fix that.

I get it to print on printer number 3 and we call it a day. Oh thank to all that's holy! Brad will be home tomorrow and he'll say something totally annoying to me like - Cam if you just turned the paper upside down it would have worked. I swear to God, I'm not an idiot about these things. It's not my strongest suit, but printing pictures is child's play. I've done it dozens and dozens of times on at least two of the printers (the one that actually sort of worked, it may have been the first time for that one). But I swear, Brad's going to come home and say.. you just had to have turned it on, or something equally as obvious. And that's when the printers which are currently littering the kitchen will begin to fly.

So Jack was delightful in his reaction to the HUGE picture of himself that was about to become the center piece of a school project and then at bedtime (which we were now well past) Teddy was delightful as well. "Mom, I'm really sorry the printers were giving you such a hard time tonight." It's nice to be reminded from time to time that they are, in fact, really good people. And despite my behavior and absolute frustration tonight (or maybe because of it) they reminded me they were.

The finished project (HUGE picture and all)

Another typical evening...

It was a lovely evening. I got home at about a quarter to six where Brad and I were set to do the "tag, you're it" thing as he was heading down to Washington for a two day conference. The evil wonder dog who just hates it when someone (anyone) leaves the house is barking up a storm to show his extreme displeasure. Brad and I have to execute a last minute fantasy football trade so I actually have a QB that's starting this week. The idiot dog keeps barking. The pasta Brad started has to be finished. The dog is stepping up his efforts. The kitchen table that somehow got piled with all manner of non dinner-like things gets cleared. The dog keeps barking. Fights are broken up (that's a bit strong). The dog keeps barking. The dinner is finished and set out. The dog keeps barking. Brad's finally ready to get the Hell out of dodge in the barest of moments before I commit canine-acide. Finally with Brad actually gone and no longer leaving the stupid dog finally shuts the *&%% up.

The boys have been in a mood all evening long. I haven't yet had a chance to change out of my work clothes. They are alternating between playing very loud gags on each other and screaming "MOM, MAKE HIM LEAVE ME ALONE" They are alternating who yells this. It's very fun. I sit down and work with Jackson on his project due Friday, get the kids dessert and the kitchen back in some semblance of order (not clean mind you, that would be far, far too much to ask for tonight). They want me to move my car so they can play basketball and I think hallelujah a minute of peace. I move the car they go outside. They come back within 3 minutes - 'Hey mom, there's a guy outside who wants to talk to you.' Oh, did I mention the dog is barking again - there are humans outside. Maybe they're leaving. It's his civic duty to bark constantly just in case he can convince someone not to leave.

I go outside, I still haven't changed my clothes. Some high school kid wants to sell me something - some version of a coupon book I think, but man he gives me the worst - and I do mean the worst pitch ever. I cut him off and tell him I'm not interested. "Dude, you can't be serious!" "I am, and now it's dark. Boys, it's time to come inside." I think he might have continued to blather on about something, but I was already heading inside. (Parents, teach your kids how to pitch the stupid things they have to sell. Start with an introduction. Something that sounds remotely polite - geesh) Anyway... The boys beg to finish the game they're playing, I give them three more minutes (really more for me than for them).

And then the crying started. In comes Teddy with his hands over his mouth crying hard. I open my arms to take him in, he shifts his hands and there's blood everywhere. I quickly change tactics because there's really no reason to get blood all over my favorite white shirt that I still haven't taken off yet. But alas, as I lead him to the sink to see what we're dealing with I see I wasn't fast enough and my right shoulder is miraculously covered in blood - woo hoo. It's just a small cut from his tooth on his bottom lip. Jackson who ran in right behind him is upset that he hurt his brother. "I'm so so so sorry, I didn't mean to hit him in the face, I was just throwing it back to him." Jack can't stand still. Nor can he shut up. Oh wait - guess what, the dog is barking. There's a lot of commotion going on in the kitchen; Ted crying, Jack apologizing, Mom calming... There's much to bark about.

I got a dish towel on his mouth while I went to get ice. I begged the dog to shut the $@T% up. I tried to calm Jackson and get him to stop talking. But then Ted decides threatening his brother is the best course of action. So every time I turn my back to get ice or kick I mean pet the dog, Ted does something like shake his fist at Jack, or lunge towards him. Jack is near tears, periodically crying out in terror. He already feels guilty and now he's scared too. OKAY - EVERYONE SHUT THE &*&% UP! Okay I didn't really yell that, but I wanted to; really, really wanted to. "Jackson, I know you didn't mean to make him bleed, but go upstairs and read." One down. Kill the dog (why can't I do that? - that would have been two down). Get ice on Teddy's lip and get him cleaned up. Okay Ted, let's go upstairs and get ready for bed. He goes up before me while I close the garage door and close down the first floor.

By the time I get upstairs Jackson is crying and holding a ripped book. "Ted ripped my book on purpose" Well this does go with the threatening behavior downstairs, he doesn't usually go towards book ripping, but he's certainly been known to wreck Jack's Lego projects in the past. "Teddy that wasn't necessary, you know better than that." This is my calm and reasonable facade, the one that hides the raging homicidal lunatic that is begging and pleading to come out. "But it was an accident Mom, I promise." It sounds like he's telling the truth, but of course so does the crying Jackson in the other corner.

Mom: You know what Ted, this is something you'd do. I don't know if you did it this time, but it's the kind of rude and obnoxious behavior that have been your hallmark for the past few months, so it's really hard for me to believe you that this one time you happened to not mess up something of Jackson's, especially after the way you were threatening him downstairs.

Ted: He bloodied my lip.

M: You know perfectly well he would never intend to hurt you like that.
He gives me the look that says "mom, you have got to be kidding".

M: No more than you would try to hurt him that way, would you ever intentionally try to make him bleed.

I was really hoping he'd think about it before he answered vs. just letting his pride answer. He did, phew.

T: ok, no I wouldn't.

M: and neither did he.

He reluctantly agreed with me but is now totally pissed at me because I just won't outright believe ripping the book was an accident. He keeps looking at me with the "my mom is calling me a liar to my face" puppy dog eyes.

Oh well...

Some pictures of Jackson

I don't think I've done a good enough job of posting pictures of the boys so I'm going to try to rectify that..

Hanging out with his hamsters in the tub.

Jack LOVES him some watermelon. He was hungry and there was half a watermelon... so.. 1+1=2

There's no rule that says you can't just plunk down with a spoon and have at the melon, is there?

It's very serious business

Unless it's not

Concentration is the key to digging out the perfect piece
(look at those lashes, I'm jealous)

Sometimes it takes longer than others

Aaaaahhh! There it is!

Taking back the house and maybe our lives too?

First of all I was sick and useless for a bit and then immediately on the heels of that (well really right in the middle of that) Brad decided to forget his past neck surgery and all his common sense and try to lift half a HUGE oak dresser and take it from our garage to upstairs. He did this despite the fact that we'd discussed he needed more than two people to lift that thing and despite the fact that it would end up just sitting in the upstairs hallway since we weren't ready for it yet. Anyway he got the dresser upstairs and of course hurt himself in the process. So while I was still barely on the mend I was driving him to the ER... this is so not where I was going with this. (can you tell I'm not over this yet?) The point is - we were both sick (two months later he's still battling the effects and the dresser is still in the hallway leaning up against the railing - it's a good look.) and that was really the start of the downward slide our poor house has taken.

In the two months since then we went on vacation, finished up camp, Brad traveled and his arm continued to heal, hosted a baby shower, school supply shopping, kept up Jackson's counseling appointments (major separation and other anxiety issues), and the general stuff that fills life - but the real time sucker was the Comic-con. As usual Brad helps coordinate the annual convention and I help. For Brad this is like having two full time jobs for the two months prior to the show. And then finally the show happens and we both stay downtown for the duration and my mom brings the kids in for a few hours each day (it's so phenomenal to have such a wonderful mom so close by).

It feels like we've barely managed to keep the kids fed and the laundry clean (certainly not folded or put away). So Comic-con was last weekend. Brad and I got home about about 12:30am on Monday morning and managed to get the kids up and ready for their first day of school and survive the work week and now.... breathe. But.. the house. Oh. My. God. The house. There's stuff everywhere. Piles. In drawers. On tables. On counters. On beds. It seems impossible.

So now - I'm feeling totally overwhelmed. I just can't live like this. So on the one hand I do truly feel like I can breathe for the first time in too long but on the other - whew it's a lot of work. I need to recreate the peaceful home I live in or I may just implode. Okay so.. I've written a list. I need the list or it will be far too overwhelming. As we cross stuff off, I'm feeling a little better and more confident we can, in fact, take our house back. And maybe our lives too. I doubt there have been 10 weekdays in the last few months that Brad and I have both been home at night.

Wish us luck.

Our arrival home... Shouldn't it be a kind of a happy homecoming thing?

The Dead Mouse
welcomed us as soon as we opened the garage door. It was just lying there on it's side, sort of waving to us - only not really as it wasn't moving or anything. How delightful.

Fruit Flies
Are just the cutest things, don't you think? It's a good think they're so damn cute or I'd have been really grossed out by the fact that our kitchen was inundated with them when we got home. There was a serious, all hands on deck, fruit fly party going on around my kitchen island. I vaguely remembered Brad buying some peaches from a local farm stand and as I looked at the red basket on the island (I think it was red though there was a brownish fruit fly haze covering the true color) I saw a brown paper bag inside. The same kind of brown paper bag you get from the farm stand. And I couldn't remember seeing the boys eat any peaches the week before we left for a week and I know I didn't have any and Brad doesn't eat fruit (I know, it's a long story). So I quickly took the basket outside and put it on the deck and found the flyswatter and put Jackson on fruit fly killing duty.

Jack's ear
started hurting on Thursday while in the pool. Ted's ear had hurt him the day before but was perfectly fine by Thursday. Now this could be just a bit of water trapped in there or the beginning of an ear infection or swimmer's ear (yes I know that's an infection too) - so we just watched and waited to see what we'd see. Sure enough his symptoms were inconclusive until... the drive home from the Eastern Shore. We made him an appointment for 5:10 pm on Saturday and he headed out with Brad to pick up the demon dog from hell (aka Bandit). I heard Brad tell him he needed to take some ibuprofen before they left and thought that was a good idea.

They got back and were preparing to go to the appointment and he was balking. In a big, big way. Crying. "I don't want them to touch my ears" "no, I'm not going if they are going to touch my ears" "no way". I was calmly and diligently explaining to him how we wanted his ear to stop hurting and he might need medicine for that and the only way to get the medicine would be for them to take a quick peek in there. I tried joking "it's not like they're going to jab a stick in there or anything"... yeah that didn't work at all - he just glared at me and then started crying again before he ran into the other room... Yay me.

Finally it comes out that he didn't actually take any medicine earlier and it all becomes clear. We poured some down his throat and got him in the car and hopefully by the time they get there he'll be human again.

My back
is not quite out, but it's been thinking about it for a couple of days. The bed at the house was really soft and I think that contributed. But so did kayaking even though I only did that once and throwing the boys around in the pool and packing and unpacking, etc, etc, etc. Of course the really bad part is that the Comic-con is next weekend and it'll really suck if my back is really out when I'm supposed to be working all day on a concrete floor.

Here's hoping tomorrow is better.

A week on Hudson Creek - can we say good food...

We just spent a lovely week on the Hudson Creek just outside of Cambridge with a big family group. My mom and step dad sailed over from Annapolis, My brother-in-law's sister and her friend came in from LA and the rest of us came from our homes in MD.

Sang and Lara bought a boat; a little... hmmm fishing boat kind of thing, not a Boston whaler, but something in that vicinity so that fresh crabs could be caught. On the first evening Sang and company baited two 600 foot trot lines with chicken necks and bull lips. Let me just say - bull lips were a new one on me - they are in fact the lips from bulls - ewwwww. I'm all over the chicken neck as the way to catch some crabs, but bull lips... really? The lips from bulls? Sang said he went into a local butcher shop and asked for 20 lbs of bull lips and the butcher reacted as if he's asked for ground beef. Obviously I'm totally out of it. Perhaps I've been away from Annapolis for too long. On the next morning Sang, Lara, Scott, and Minah headed out and (apparently) after much yelling (the learning curve was especially steep) they came back with more than a bushel of crabs which we had for lunch. I've had some good and fresh crabs in my day - but Oh. My. God. they were some good crabs.

It's still my own personal embarrassment that I can't get my children to eat crabs. (hanging head in shame) I'm hoping this will change some day - I have hope with Jackson, but I think Ted may be a lost cause (much like his father). Brad will eat crab on things and in things, but the idea of sitting down with a beer (he would never drink beer) and picking a bunch of crabs is just not ever going to happen.

Sang's family is Korean and he, his mom, and his sister are all amazing cooks. Every night was filled with something wonderful. We even had plain old ordinary fajitas one night - but I swear they were the best damn fajitas I've ever had. Kyong grilled chicken, pork, and steak to perfection along with a bevy of veggies and put it all together - perfection. The things that Sang's mom would throw together with leftovers and spices - totally amazing. I was trying to convince her to come live with us - I'm not sure she's willing, but it's a nice thought.

The same group went crabbing another day as well and caught another bushel and it was just as amazing as the first... so so so good.

We had three dogs with us; a big huge lanky German shepherd mix named Rico, a teeny, tiny almost cat like thing (I think it's a toy poodle, shitzu mix that has a special name) called Nala, and a Chug (Chihuahua/Pug mix) named Loa. The three of them together was completely delightful, though I kept calling Rico - Nico and Nala - Rala and Loa - Lolo. There were far too many short names going on for my poor little brain.

Overall a great time was had by all - there was a good sized pool in the back yard, several kayaks and canoes for play in Hudson Creek, a nice dock to gaze out off of and plenty of space to spread out and veg (one of my favorite things).

Unfortunately not it's back to the real world.

And finally she posts again...

So I was thinking I wanted to do a blog post, but I couldn't think of a thing to write and then... I put the boys to bed and they were more than happy to entertain me...

She got up and just walked away
I'm reading one of the Wimpy Kid books to Jackson. He's recently taken to wanting us to read to him again which is cute - and hopefully short lived (I much prefer him reading to me) - but I'm finishing up my last "day" in the book and then he needs to show me how his dolphin silly band can be a dolphin, a fish, and a pig, just by moving it around a bit. Okay, go for it kid.

Jack: Here's the dolphin (fart) oops, excuse me
I just raised my eyebrows at him in question and he shrugged
Jack: and here's (fart) the (fart) fish (fart, fart, fart). Oh man, I'm sorry.
I quietly got up and left the room.
And Jackson totally dissolved into a major fit of laughter. He was howling and kept muttering 'she got up and just walked away' before cackling again. He laughed until he was wiping the tears away.

I finally peaked my head around the corner and asked if it was safe to come back in and he fell over again in another laughing fit. "I can't believe you just stood up, turned around and left" as he lost it again. Why this struck him as so funny, I have no idea, but it certainly brightened my evening.

Sometimes I really worry about you
So I moved on to Teddy. After I pry my iphone and the game of stick golf he's playing away from him he's lying sideways on his bed with his feet up on the wall. He starts to takes one shoe off and pushes his leg away from the wall, past his head so he can kick it directly onto the floor over his head and... you guessed it, it bounced off his forehead and both he and I burst out laughing. Which of course brought Jack in from the other room to see what was going on. I tell Jack what Ted did as I know Jack will get a big kick out of it too and probably give me one of his faces that says "man there's a problem with that kid, but (shrug) what are you gonna do" Jack can say so much in a quick look it's completely entertaining and always spot on point.

Anyway, the brain trust that is Teddy decides he's going to show Jackson what he did only this time instead of the shoe just slightly grazing his head on it's way to the floor, it landed smack dab in the middle of his face and I almost fell off the bed laughing. Of course Ted tried to be mad at me because "That really hurt Mom!" I can't say that stemmed my or Jackson's laughter one bit. "Sometimes I really worry about you kid." And Jackson shrugged and silently said "that one is a piece of work."

Bandit
is insane. Seriously insane. He's always been insane and certainly that's part of why I don't like him, but recently he reached a new level of insanity! It started the night before the earthquake. He wouldn't leave my side and was shaking all over; totally freaking out. I have no idea what the issue was unless it was one of those weird animal things where he knew something was going to happen but the earthquake was still 8 hours away so I can't imagine that was it. Not to mention his behavior hasn't really let up much.

He's mostly hiding under my bed. But if he is out he's walking around the house with his ears back or lying at my or Brad's feet shaking. I feel sorry for him, but there's no reason for this sudden shift in behavior. It's like he was suddenly an abused child and is afraid of the world, but nothing new is going on in his life, so I'm not getting it. Lest you all get worried about him (though if it will get someone to come and take him away I'd be okay with that), he's acting exactly how he acts during a thunderstorm only without the storm. Whenever thunder starts, he starts shaking and wants to hide either in my lap (which is not my favorite) or under my bed. And he's been all but living under my bed for more than a week now. Perhaps the end of the world is near and we just don't know it yet.

Camela

Where the wild things are...

Camp is back.... and so is the drama
As I'm sure I've mentioned we've totally screwed up our son. Well we certainly knew it was going to happen. We had to come to grips with the fact that any children of ours would certainly need therapy at some point in their lives. Once we fully came to terms with that we decided it was time to have kids.... but I digress.

Against my better judgment I let Jack go to sleep away camp last year. It was Ted's 2nd year and he loves it and Jack was very excited about going, but I knew in my heart of hearts he was too young and too attached to his parents to be okay with it and sure enough he was. He had a great time while he was there, but came home suffering from a profound case of separation anxiety whenever ANY kind of separation is going to happen. He got back from sleep away camp and started back up at his regular day camp which he'd been going to and LOVING for years and worked himself into a frenzy over the idea that we were going to leave him there (he'd been there 8 days earlier) that he threw up on the way there. And on just about every morning after that until finally a monetary bribe worked (but that took a few weeks before he could work himself up to it). Then when school started - he was in the third grade and going to the same school as always, he climbed SOBBING onto the school bus and held his hands out the window to us while he continued SOBBING. There wasn't a dry eye in the neighborhood watching that scene. This continued for the entire first week, though he was finally able to get it together and had a mostly fine year as far as that was concerned.

Now to this summer. His stated reasons for hating the summer camp he previously loved were numerous and inventive; it was rusty, it's hot outside, they don't play football right... things like that and Brad was prepared to send him somewhere else, but believing any place would be tough for him I pushed to keep him there because it's a known entity for him and the staff know and love him and are ready, willing, and able to deal with the fact that he may literally vomit every morning in their bathroom. Today was the first day I got to take him to camp (Brad's in NC) and yes, he managed to vomit in the car on the ride over and was then totally surprised that I was still leaving him there. "but wait, I threw up, now I don't have to go." "uh, honey, you threw up because of your nerves and they know that, you're not sick, you're still going."

Let me stop and say he has a fabulous time while he's there. We get regular updates from his counselors and the camp director and they consistently report that he is having a ball. And if he's talking about camp and not realizing the implications of us knowing how much fun he is having he tells hilarious stories of the wonderful and crazy things they get to do there. But of course being Mr. Manipulative he is very careful not to let his guard down too often as he'd much rather tell us the place is rusty so he shouldn't have to go (read: I don't want you to ever leave my side for any reason whatsoever!)

Anyway - I hadn't intended to really get into all that, but there it is. Camp is back and so is the vomiting drama. We're working on coping mechanisms and I think maybe it's getting a little better. I'm hoping before he goes to high school he'll be able to leave our side more easily.


Teddy and girls
is a fun and painful thing to watch. Recently Teddy was at an end of school beach blast party and there he lost a tooth (the boy has lost 3-4 teeth in the past month). Apparently once the bloody molar was in a baggy he ran around the blacktop shoving it into as many girls' faces as he could. Brad was horrified by this behavior, I've got to say, it just made me laugh.

Then we were at the pool the other day and he kept going up to a group of girls who were minding their own business and splashing them. Brad was completely agitated by this. "We have to make him stop that, I don't think the girls like it." I got him to sit back down. If the girls don't like it, they'll have to figure out how to get him to stop it. I'm confident they can put him in his place if they want to and equally confident Ted will continue to annoy them until they do just that. This is just all part of the ritual - both sides need to learn how to deal with each other. We watched while Brad gripped the sides of his chair hard enough that his knuckles had lost all color, but eventually Ted managed to insinuate himself into a rousing game of keep away with the girls and their fathers.. no harm, no foul. And eventually the feeling came back into Brad's fingers.

Camela

The cause of the big bump on my forehead.....

At the elementary school where Jackson goes they have a lovely tradition where on the last day of school all the teachers and staff form two lines just outside the exit doors and clap and cheer for all the students as they have officially finished the year and (hopefully) been promoted to the next grade. Every year the sentiment brings tears to my eyes and if I actually get to watch it, I'm toast. (and though I won't admit it officially it's possible there are a few tears in my eyes right now as I think about it).

Anyway, because he goes to aftercare right after school I wasn't 100% sure exactly when school lets out and so I wasn't sure when his half day ended on the last day of school and this year Brad is out of town so I'm going to be there when Jack gets out. So what does a smart and organized mom do when she doesn't know the answer to something (and her husband is not available to give her the answer)??? She calls the school with a quick and easy question.

Me: What time does school let out?

dumbgirlwhoansweredthephone: Three hours earlier.

M: Yes, okay, thanks. What time does school let out?

D: What time does he get home?

M: When I pick him up. He’s in aftercare and I’m going to pick him up from school on Wednesday when it let’s out, but I don’t know when that is. Can you tell me when school let’s out this week?

D: Oh he’s in aftercare?

M: Yes

D: And you’re going to pick him up on Wednesday?

M: Yes

D: So he’ll be a car rider. Because I was going to calculate three hours earlier than when the bus normally drops him off if he was a bus rider.

M: Okay. When does school let out?

D: Well we’ll be all done by 12:15 or so. And the car loop gets pretty full so you might want to be in the loop by about noon or so.

M: I’m planning to park the car and get out; can you please tell me when school let’s out?

D: You’re going to park?

M: Yes.

D: As I said we’ll be all done by 12:15 or so, so you definitely want to be here before then.

(maybe a new question will help get me an answer)

M: When does the bell ring?

D: For car riders, we’ll probably let them out at 12:07 or 12:09.

M: Great, thank you.

(After hanging up, I beat the phone against my head for approximately 15 minutes.)

Camela