September 2005 Archives

Hey I got tagged for the very first time!! by Refinnej.  Guess I should look up what "meme" really means.  I don't know, and I'm not ashamed.  Let's take a break to see. 

okay, then MEME

Not some sort of form of memo like I thought. 

And here is the meme I was tagged with.  I'd have seen it sooner, but my blogsurfing is limited by the monitor that shorts out or gets too hot or whatever.  Yeah.  Still.  My mom brought us one, but by the time I finally got my ass to circut city (they didn't have one) to office max to buy a cable, something (I'm guessing child-related, since they can't keep their mits to themselves) happened to it and it doesn't work.  What am I babbling on for? 

Ten Years Ago:
I was childless!  And I didn't know that I should have been doing everything I ever wanted to do within the next year.  Ha.  I was in the process of looking for an apartment with my first husband (we'd been married four years, had broken up and were trying to get back together).  I was waiting tables and managing at a little four star cafe that is now closed.  I had recently dropped out of college in my senior year at San Francisco State.   

Five Years Ago:
Lexy was three almost four and Nate was one almost two.  I found out that I was pregnant with Sophie.

One Year Ago:
I celebrated my two year wedding anniversary with John, and Willow turned one and a half.  We had been in this duplex for three years. 

Yesterday:
I took Sophie to get her chicken pox vaccine before preschool.  I didn't tell her where we were going, and after she got her shot she asked me, "Mama, why you not tell me this is where we were going to go?"  I told her that I didn't want her to spend a long time feeling afraid.  She accepted that.  We came home for lunch, and she found one of Lexy's slings (from one of the numerous times he broke his arm) and wore it to preschool.  I spent lots of time in the car, and officially started my turned-thirty-five-midlife-crisis.  Commemerated the occasion by listening to fifteen-year-old cassette tapes. (I publicly apologize for really liking the Cranberries so much when I was twenty.  Very embarassing to listen to those horrid lyrics now!) Went to target and bought snark boi and lavvva grl for the kids and a bright orange bathroom scale.  Confirmed that I am overweight by consulting the phamplet that came with the scale.  Had a rough afternoon with the kids after school due to Lexy not winning the student council election and the cold Nathan is coming down with.  Did lots of dishes, but not laundry, so now must go wash clothes. 

Five Songs I Know All The Words To:
Wiggly Christmas by the Wiggles
Coward of the County by Kenny Rodgers
Famous Blue Raincoat by Leonard Cohen
Fifteen Miles on the Eerie Canal
everything recorded by the Cowboy Junkies

Five Snacks:
Greek youghurt with honey
cantalope with marcona almonds
mango with sweet sticky rice (served for dessert at Thai restaurants)
apples with peanut butter
pears with cheese

Five things I'd do with 100 million dollars:
buying a house here in silicon valley would take most of that these days
start a program to provide a stipend to moms who want to stay home with their kids
convert all vehicles to non-oil run engines
pay Bush and cronies to take a permanent vacation
make more episodes of Six Feet Under and buy an iPod nano

(I know a hundred million would not go that far, but the whole thing is a fantasy anyway)

Five places I'd run away to:
Spain
Toronto
Vancouver
Nantucket
New York City in the 1940's

Five things I would never wear:
a bathing suit
white pants
sleeveless anything
belly-showing anything
pantyhose

Five Favourite TV Shows
Six Feet Under
Quantum Leap
My So-Called Life
Freaks and Geeks
The Sopranos

Five greatest joys
sleep
peeing alone
showering alone
sleep
sleep

Current Reads:
Blink by Malcolm Gladwell
current issue of Bust
current issue of East Village Inky
the newspaper
the fucking scale phamplet

Five People I am tagging to do this:

everyone must participate!

see why I can't pull them?

This is absolutely my favorite time of the year.  After Willow and I came home from dropping Soph off at school, she asked me if she could "play grass."  Play grass is mostly running around the front yard, jumping off the tree stump, looking at stuff.  Today the big tree near the driveway was dropping lots of tiny yellow leaves as the wind blew.  Willow giggled and jumped and danced under them.  "Leaves!  Fall!"  she shouted.  We pulled some weeds out so the grass would stand more of a chance.  At least it is green out there.  Finally we came in the gate to make some lunch, watch a little Blooze Cluze, kick off our shoes and cuddle.  On the way in I saw that all the baby trees I haven't had the heart to pull up have started to turn and drop their leaves, too.  I need to pull most of them, because they are right up next to the house, but I feel too guilty.  I also can't bring myself to kill snails.  Sometimes I have weed pulling guilt, too, to tell the truth.  I blame our messy yard on John, but really I'm probably more to blame.  Anyhow, the tiny trees now have green, gold, red, and yellow leaves.  I'm not going to pull the ones near the house until winter, and there are two or three that sprouted in good places, so they can stay.   

I feel all maudlin.  But maybe that's partly because it's autumn and it's kind of nice to be a little sad and sentimental.  Also our favorite doctor ever died on Sunday.  He took care of Nate and Willow's eye problems, and performed Nate's eye surgery when he was three.  I'm very very sad that he's gone.

I am so sleepy.  My eyes keep closing, and the hum of the leaf blower down the street is like a siren, calling me to sleep.  Sleep, it says, you know you want to.  I have to leave in a few minutes to get the boys, but I did have a ten minute slot to take a power nap.  So, I set the alarm and flopped on the bed.  Right away, I was well on my way to slumber, when Sophie comes in.  She wants me.  To.  Whatever.  She doesn't know.  I say, "Mama just needs to rest for a minute.  I'll get up and do it in a minute.  Just give me till the alarm goes off."  No.  She wants a bubble bath.  She promises to take it very fast.  Then she wants candy.  Then she wants cereal.  Now I am awake, so I grumpily get the cereal and when she comes in halfway through eating it to interrupt me checking my email to demand a Clifford video, I threaten to pour the cereal out if she does not go eat it RIGHT NOW.  Don't they know that mamas get cranky when they miss their naps?  It's pretty damn obvious.

Hmmmm.  I've let too many things I want to write about pile up.  I hate that.  First of all, thank you to everyone who commented and emailed about my family in Houston.  They are fine.  The evacuating was not too fun, but they got to my grandparents after about 24 hours (to go roughly 300 miles) and will head back in a day or two.   

My mom took me out to see The Wizard of Oz, which was great fun.  We sat in the second row, eye level with the stage, so that I had to stand up when it was over to see the yellow brick road!  I can't decide who stole the show, maybe the Lion, but the Wizard and Glenda were fabulous, too.  The sets and costumes were superb, and we even felt the heat of the pyrotechnics!  We had time for dinner beforehand, at this restaurant.  I had a roasted artichoke with chipotle aioli (spicy mayo) that was very good, and a pear and gorgonzola salad.  Chocolate dessert, of course.  I don't know when my mom and I had so much time together without the kids.  It was so nice.

The next night, my brother and his wonderful girlfriend took me here.    We ate for about three and a half hours, and pretty much just talked about the food the entire time.  AJ, you MUST eat here sometime.  It's absolutely worth it!  The tab almost made me faint, but my dad picked up my portion for my b-day.  Excellent present!  If you go, no make that WHEN, you must try the egg, it's just astonishing. 

The night after that (spoiled much, Jen?) my mom had us over for ice cream, flourless not overly sweet chocolate torte (yum), and a very yummy fried apple custard dish.  Heavenly.  I got excellent gifts, too! Origins foot care stuff, cash and gift certificates.  YAY!

And now, I'm incredibly tired, so I'll leave you with some cute Willow pictures.  Night!

writing well is the best revenge.  Except when you have to go back and delete it because you don't want to be sued.  *Ahem*  I am officially in a new demographic today (meaning I left the 18-34 one behind) and I gave my boys permission to call me their old lady.  They don't want to.  Aren't they sweet?

A northern California thunderstorm!  I am so happy to sit in my quiet room and listen while Willow eats chips and watches a Blue's Clues (old skool Steve Blue's Clues) video.  The boys and Soph are in school.  I wonder if they're hiding under their desks; they aren't used to hearing thunder and I think it scares them a little.  I love it, though.  I spent lots of time as a kid in Texas, sitting on a car in the driveway or lawn chair on the yard, watching and listening to storms come in.  They were best in summer, when their arrival would cool the air and the concrete down, and we'd stand just inside the open front door, watching it pour. 

Instead of staying home and doing the laundry and the dishes and the everything else, we went to the park.  Yay for slacking and having fun and riding the train and the merry-go-round. 

is always cracking me up, when she isn't making me cry, that is.

Sophie is having a tea party for one.  She is using the tiny teacup and saucer from the birthday party we went to.  She is wearing her strand of "pearls" and her lace gloves and she's having sparkling water with her veggie bacon.  The funny part is that the gloves and necklace are ALL that she is wearing, and she was telling me all about how if you go on a roller coaster, "You will puke AND barf!"

Sometimes I get sad that they have to grow up.  I'll be even sadder if she acts like that when she's grown, though.

lend me a little blow torch??  So I can make these cupcakes?  Please?

I really am wishing I knew the true identity of Chez Miscarriage, so I could send her this.

Oops.  I just traumatized Willow by going through one of those drive-in car washes at the gas station.  I thought with her sense of adventure and love of being a daredevil that she'd be into it.  Uh, NO!!  Poor thing.  At least Lex and Nate were on either side of her.  She kept pulling Lexy's hand over her eyes.  I feel so bad.

Oh I'm going to have to save this and come back later on. . .

And now it's morning of the next day!  Told you I was busy. 

I will tell the story of the army guy I met, (which now is not seeming so much like it needs to be told, but oh well) but first there's my trip to Fremont. 

I'll try and come back soon with my story of the ex-soldier I met at the park on September 11th.  But, I'm dizzily busy.  Just wanted to pass the word along that Grace is looking for people to help with blogging duty at the Katrina Relief site.  If you don't have money to donate, this is an excellent chance to donate your time.  Back later.

This news story is making me sick.  And worried and scared.  Let's review:  the US attacked Iraq, killing how many thousands and thousands of civilians and soldiers from many countries, because Bush and company decided that there were WMD's.  (honestly, isn't it totally clear by now that they used that as an excuse to do what they had been hoping to do for years?)  And now the policy is going to be that the US can use nuclear bombs against countries that have WMD's.  Because, you know, even if those horrible bad guys don't mean to, some kind of accident may happen.  While we're at it, we need to make a bigger-better-faster-more bomb that will penetrate the earth.  (as in totally fuck it, it would seem)  But, all you other countries who say you are developing nuclear power (yes you, those of you whose idea of government doesn't fit with the US mandated way of being), you better get rid of that nuclear technology right away, before we attack your country and kill your people and ruin your economy and make you dependent on us for many years to come. 

Yeah.  That's pretty much why I don't have a proud to be an American sticker on my car.  I love the land and I try to love the people, even the ones who throw trash out the window and vote for things I am against and are responsible for our soul-crushing pop culture, but this government is acting like a bunch of terrorists. 

Alright!!  Send me some hate mail now!

In the pocket of Lexy's shorts that just went into the washer (luckily I remembered to check first):

• a dime
• a rainbow-striped crayon
• an unopened package of fancy ketchup
• a tootsie-pop wrapper
• an empty plastic baggie
• a roughly four foot long strip of yellow "caution" tape

And to think, I almost washed all that stuff with my Fussy shirt!!  The horror!

We are going to a little girl's tea party birthday gig tomorrow at the park.  Foolish woman that I am, I am making part of the gift.  If it turns out like I hope, it's going to be pretty damn cute.  It's a stuffed (like a pillow, but small) tree, made from green and white gingham (yeah, for the leaves) and part of a pair of Nate's old brown cords (for the trunk).  I'm going to sew red buttons on it for apples.  It's going to be given with some store bought little puppets; an owl and raccoon.  I don't even know these people.  Do I craft like this for my own kids?  NO, I do not.  Know why?  They take shitty care of their stuff and it would pain me greatly to watch my work get scribbled on, dropped in the bath, and left outside in the mud.  Their mother needs to set them straight.

I've been watching the clock since 2:26, counting down the hours until bedtime.  That's sad.  The girls and I did have fun.  We sat on the front step and I painted their toe and fingernails.  Willow is new to manicures and pedicures, and she kept telling me to put the sparkly nail polish on her arm and hand and legs.  She didn't sit still during the recommended drying time, but she was a champ at huffing on her fingers to dry them.

Well, after all that clock watching, it is FINALLY time to put them into the bath.  Bedtime is soon to come, followed by sewing time.  My exciting saturday night!  woohoo

Today after school the kids played on the front lawn for a long time.  They climbed up on the tree stump and play-pushed each other off, jumping and shouting.  They ran in circles and picked handfuls of grass to throw into the wind.  Then they caught crickets and what we call 'fence bugs' in jars to feed to the bullfrogs in the aquarium on the front porch.  The four of them were fun to watch, barefoot, clutching my mom's tiny canning jars, trying to coax the bugs off the fence and into the jars.  Then they would run over to the frog cage, wait for me to lift the lid, and dump in the bugs.  It reminded me of catching bees in old mayo jars, with holes poked in the lid.  I remember putting honeysuckle in for them to eat, and when it was time to release them, squeezing my eyes shut as the lid came off, praying I wouldn't get stung.  They need more days like that.  Days where they play outside sort of aimlessly and then come in for chocolate chip cookies and milk.

Grace is busy helping out with the hurricane aftermath.  Here is the new blog she started.  Check it out, help her out!

Sophie's finger is sore, but not swollen and discolored so I'm going to bet that it's not broken.  They can't do anything anyhow, so unless she gets worse, we won't go in to the doctor.  I, on the other hand, need to go to the doctor for an ear infection.  The soonest they can see me is Saturday, and that's the soonest urgent care appointment.  Guess this one will be treated homeopathically.  Which would be fine if I had more than one vicodin in the medicine chest.  Maybe I'll go all old west and buy some whiskey. 

Badger has a post up saying that both volunteers and evacuees are being locked out of the astrodome.  Some of those people's children are inside, but no one will let them in.  I can't imagine how traumatizing that is.  It's bad enough with the flood that took their lives and homes and neighborhoods away, but now to be separated from their children and locked out of what is their home for now.  What the fuck?!  I hope it's as short as possible and that no one is hurt or killed trying to get back in.  What a nightmare.

I have to go take Soph to school and get to wholey foods for some earache tabs. 

Go see John and company (Irr.App.Ext.) perform in Seattle this weekend if you are in the area. Our friend Steve will be there, too, but not performing.  I don't think, anyway.  Tell them hello for me and tell John I miss him.

I have one of those annoying colds that makes you sneeze forty seven times an hour, and the snot is all thin and clear and drippy and there's nothing to really blow out, yet, with any head movement, out it gushes.   The ear-infection-to-be is hopping up and down in the at-bat circle, gathering as much bacteria as its little microbial arms can scoop up.  Why yes.  I did take a dose of generic nyquill.  That's the only good part about having a cold. 

I think Sophie might have a broken finger.  If it's not looking and feeling better tomorrow we will go to the doctor.  She got it shut in the hinge side of the door to the boys room.  It bled some, and she screamed louder than any cliche I can possibly summon.  Willow screamed with her for support.  The screaming took place in the hall bathroom.  Which shares a wall with our neighbors house.  Have I told you how much they secretly hate us?  I know they do.  They should.  I don't think that door slamming will generally break a finger, but when she got into bed (after I taped the worst finger to the finger next to it with a care bear bandaid) she said that it hurt her finger to touch the sheets.  Like, she was on her back with her hand on her chest, applying the boo boo bunny, and the sheet was covering her legs and the hem of it came into contact with the finger.  It's apparently VERY sensitive.  If it didn't happen forty minutes after bedtime (I'm flying solo and had to attend a parent meeting for drama club, but really, the drama is RIGHT HERE), I might have called the advice nurse.  Instead, I did ice and a shot each of tylenol and benedryll (I don't make a habit of that, but if I hurt my hand like that I'd be all over the one lonely vicodin in the medicine chest, so I figured I would give her an early lesson about the wonders of pharmaceuticals.  Suddenly feeling the irony of her unmedicated homebirth!!)

**right here is where the monitor went out for an hour and I watched some of season four of six feet under.  What will I do when I'm done with season five?  Seriously.  My mom brought us a new monitor ages ago and I am too lame to get my child-laden ass to fry's to get on stinkin cable to hook it up.  Winner!**

After we got settled into bed, she told me about squid.  Squid, according to Sophie, are made of a brain (like what's under the hair of people) and long hair.  They can blow black ink on you and they eat both people and fish with their circle mouth.  Funny girl.  Hope her finger is okay when she wakes up.

Wow!!  Took a few days off from the computer (I'm never going to catch up with all my blog reading) and was unaware that the talented and amazing Badger is off to Houston to help at the Astrodome.  Scientists should quit cloning lambs and cats and clone her! 

I'm sure that everyone has heard about what Barbara Bush said and how she laughed while saying it (among the countless other inane actions and more importantly INactions happening around this tragedy).  It's so very hard to believe that people really think that way.  I do not understand.  Not even a little. 

I'm going to go help the kids with homework and then we'll make cookies.  I'm appreciating our small moments together more.  Except for the barf.  I'm not a saint, you know.

You know the one.  The one that says that the universe will send the same kinds of people or situations your way until you get the lesson that you need to learn.  Only then will those types of people and situations stop coming around demanding your energy.  I need to file a complaint with the judges in charge of that phenomenon.  Because my kids keep barfing all over me, and, truthfully, I don't think I could handle it any better.  Just this morning, for example, at 4 am, after two hours of caring for Willow while she fussed and said, "ow ow ow," I sensed that I was about to be covered in puke.  So, holding Willow, I sprinted toward the bathroom, hoping to get her close to the toilet but praying she wouldn't hit my copy of Bust (the "Men we love" copy at that!) on the top of the tank.  We didn't make it through the doorway, even.  I was covered; pajamas, feet, hair (my hair is down to my butt, so that's more of a mess than it sounds).  She got the carpet, the bathroom floor, the bathmat.  Most spectacular was the door, though.  It looked like it had been hit with the farmer's slop bucket.  I made John help me because, honestly, if he weren't home I would have had to call the fire department or something.  He started the bath for us, and cleaned up all the barf while I sat in the tub with my ghostly-pale and quiet girl, worrying that she was anemic again while trying to keep my hair out of the water until John came to get her out.  Once she was out, I dunked my hair and got it sort of clean.  I decided to wait until morning, or later in the morning anyway, to shower, because I needed to get everyone back to sleep.  So, I got Willow and myself into fresh jammies, wrapped my wet, stinky hair in a bath towel, grabbed a big, clean towel for just-in-case, and set up camp on the couch with Willow, where we both got some of that unsatisfying upright sleep. 

I am so tired.  As soon as Sophie is shuffled off to preschool, Willow and I are taking a big fat juicy nap.  I'm going to close the curtains and turn off the phone.  If there's an emergency the school can call somebody else this time. 

I saw a link to this article by Kevin Drum on Badger's site.  I wish that my level of surprise matched my level of nausea.

saw this link on veggie mama's site, and she saw it on the mowing devil's

It's quiet here today.  The big kids are with their dad for the weekend and John is working.  When he left at 7:30 this morning Willow was still asleep, so I curled up on the couch with coffee and the saturday and sunday newspapers.  Willow came toddling in awhile later, with her crazy bed-hair and sleepy eyes, and said, "Mama cry.  Okay??  Mama?  Okay?"  I told her that I was sad, and she put her little fat hands on my cheeks and said, "You feel better now?"   We ate some eggs together, watched a little Kipper, cuddled under a blanket by the open window.  I was thinking about what my grandmother said to me on the phone a couple of days ago.  She said that she felt guilty for having a nice house with food and clean clothes and everything she needs.  This coming from a woman who just had major surgery for the second time this year and spent the last few days waiting for a blood clot in her leg to dissolve.  I know what she means, though.