September 2009 Archives

So I saw on Hula Seventy that there is a photo thang started by Poppytalk called Autumn Color Week, and I said to myself, Jen, you should do that.  No matter how busy you are.  Seriously.  (Only I don't really talk/think to myself in the 3rd person like that.  Unless me calling myself "dude" is the 3rd person?  As in: Dude, I should totally do that!)

But now it's Wednesday and where did the week (and the month and the year) go?  I missed Monday=Yellow and Tuesday=Green, and here we are on Wednesday and it's my favorite color, orange. 

It's the middle of the night, and I am too sleepy anyway to take any pictures.  I did, though, spend ten minutes putting together a group of yellow, green, and orange photos that I've taken.  And, maybe I will get it in gear and do it up for Thursday and Friday.  Maybe.

That is the very worst pun sin I have ever publicly committed. 

So we've moved on (please, please let that be accurate) from head lice to maybe Swine Flu.  Maybe equals You must wear a mask when your siblings are in the house.  It also equals two bottles of lavender hand sanitizer.   

If the bugs that gave Lex that 104 degree fever were, in fact, of the H1N1 type, then they were mostly talk or maybe just lazy.  He was sick enough to scare me for 24 hours, then well enough to spend the next day on the couch, chugging Gatorade and watching contraband TV. 

I did take him to the doctor.  I thought he had an ear infection, but the doc started talking about 'viruses' and then 'influenza' and then, If it's influenza, it's likely H1N1.  But, the kids I've seen with it have had mild symptoms.  If he gets worse, we can screen him, but otherwise, just watch him at home and don't worry about him unless he seems to be not improving.

Tonight he felt alright enough to get online and email his teachers and let them know he'd be back in class tomorrow, unless his fever returns.  He doesn't want to miss any more classes than he already has, because he's in lots of accelerated programs and missing classes makes things even more difficult. 

Turns out, at least with this kid in this case, benign neglect from mama toward homework starting in about the fourth grade produces a seventh-grader who takes charge of his work because he knows it's his responsibility.  Funny how what I think of as one of my greatest accomplishments as a parent (having an almost 13 year old who takes care of his schoolwork totally independently) sprouted from the hands-off approach.  I'm planning to use this method whenever possible, because now that I've gone from an at-home, super-involved, attachment parenting devotee to a Ms. Works-a-lot single-mom who isn't entirely sure what the kids' classroom numbers even are yet this year, the whole 'hands-off' method is shiny and appealing in all sorts of ways.

Not to worry, though.  I still tickle and kiss them, feed them healthy meals and milkshakes, tell them funny stories, and make sure they floss.  I haven't yet forgotten to pick any of them up from soccer practice, which is pretty good considering they are all four playing this fall on different teams that practice in four different places and play games in four more different places. 

Being a mother for me is so different now, so very different, now that the kids are getting older.  I always thought I'd be sad when they weren't babies anymore, but I'm surprised by how much fun we have between the squabbles and the eyerolls.  It still takes me by surprise to look up into the eyes of my son who looks so much like me.  Sometimes I see so clearly his little baby face looking back at me, and it's impossible to imagine that it's been years since I could hold him in the crook of my left arm while I stood in the kitchen getting a glass of water and looking out the window at the sky.   

SG and I spent all of last week in Maui.  Eight perfect, warm days; seven warm, breezy nights; nine or more dives (for him); something like sixteen snorkely swims (together); lots and lots of sea turtles; almost as many rays; uncountable numbers of fish; one reef shark; two or three eels (the one I saw? definitely a sea serpent); three solo swims as the sun came up over my left shoulder; seven awesome dinners out; two books read; and one batch of (soggy) tequila-lime popcorn eaten on the couch while watching a movie.

Today is the first anniversary of our Not-Date.  We met after work on a Wednesday.  He bought me a drink, we sat and talked, and then we walked over to the swank kitchen store so I could buy a new saute pan.  (Told you it was a Not-Date.)  I picked out a nice one, because I wanted to a) be good to myself, and, b) show off.  He surprised me by buying it for me.

Since we were in Hawaii, we celebrated our first anniversary just a little bit early, at Mama's Fish House in Paia.  (Be warned, their site plays music.)  The food was so good.  Really, really incredible.  I love how on the menu they list who caught the fish and where and on what boat.  We sat at a table near the open windows and ordered a bottle of Charles Heidsieck.  We clinked our glasses together, they were all sparkly in the dim restaurant, and SG said, To our first awesome year together.  I said nothing, because I was crying a little because -- dude, I am so happy.  He loves that I'm a dork.  Really. 

One afternoon we were snorkeling at Ahihi, and I noticed some beach glass twinkling in the lava rocks.  The more pieces I picked up, the more I saw.  It was everywhere, and I ended up with a big handful.  That lovely piece in the photo was in my hand with a bunch of others and I noticed that it was heart-shaped.  I'm tempted to write about how beach glass is one of those things that gets more beautiful the more it's tossed by the sea and crashed into rocks, and how, sometimes, people and their hearts are that way, too.  That whole strength by fire thing.  Smoothing out the sharp edges by sea water and rocks and sand.  But that would be too much, even for me. 

A few more pieces of glass from Ahihi.

Please read about Project 2,996 here.

From worldtradeaftermath.com:
Bronx Builders: Status: This company is missing 3 workers who were attending a meeting at Windows on the World. The missing workers are Manuel DaMota, Joshua Poptean and Obdulio Ruiz-Diaz.

Joshua Poptean was originally from Romania and moved to Portland, Oregon, when he was a teenager.   Before  working as a project manager for Bronx Builders, Joshua served in the National Guard.  An article about him in the New York Times said that he came to New York and drove a cab while learning carpentry, that he was the first to jump up and sing the National Anthem at a family 4th of July celebration earlier in the summer, that he worked hard, that he was deeply religious. 

How do you help to preserve the memory of a person you've never met?  I think, just from reading what I could find on the internet, that Joshua would have liked to have been remembered for his faith, his devotion to his work, his fairness, his sense of humor, and his love and appreciation of both Romania and the US. 

A family friend said this about him: What I remember about him is the information he had about our country. He knew all the information that most Americans take for granted. He was from Romania and spoke all the Romance languages. He could be very funny. And made us laugh many times.

The Time article says, too, that on September 11th, 2001, when most of the supervisors of Bronx Builders in other parts of the city were closing operations for the day, one of the men who worked for Joshua, also an immigrant to the US, said that he and his crew in Brooklyn would continue to work.  The article doesn't say that they did so in Joshua's honor, but I think that because he had a reputation for expecting the best from himself and other employees, it was just the natural thing for them to do. 

and they were here to tell me to watch my language.

But I have a great excuse: head lice.

I spent $100 on lice shampoo.

Over the last 24 hours I have bagged up stuffed animals, barbies, dry-clean-only comforters, ugg boots, dress-up clothes, backpacks, lunchboxes, pillows, and carseats.  I spent six hours combing kids' hair, with my mom coming over straight over after work to help for half that time, which means that we put in NINE hours of nitpicking.

Also bagged were the skate/bike helmets which means that Nathan can't skate for two weeks.  He is not pleased.  At all.

I've made a few OMG I AM SO SO SORRY TO TELL YOU. . . calls.  So far, none of their friends have it (which is driving me crazy a little because where did it come from?)

The washing machine has been running nonstop, we've vacuumed the mattresses and the furniture, washed the slipcovers, and, as the kids overheard me say on the phone to SG, vacuumed the f*@^ out of the carpet. 

In the early afternoon yesterday, we got the living room all set and then put out a couple of blankets.  We took turns putting on the lice treatment, letting it soak in with all its toxic helpfulness* and then we rinsed it out and sat there and combed while watching Marley and Me which is unbelievability sad and left Lex, Sophie, and me sniveling messes.  Willow, on the other hand, loved it and has watched it three or four more times on my laptop while sitting in the hallway because none of the rest of us can stand to see it again.

The kids have been helpful, mostly.  They're sweet and say they like all the together time.  Willow lost one of her top middle teeth, and Soph didn't want to be left out so she pulled a loose tooth, too.  The Tooth Fairy showed up sometime around 5 a.m.  I hope that she had her hair pulled back; I'd hate for her to be distributing head lice all over the world. 

Time to stop complaining and get back to cleaning.  I shouldn't gripe anyway, because in about 24 hours I will be sitting on the beach in Hawaii with SG**.  That first drink with the little umbrella in it is going to taste really, really damn good. 

*Once upon a time, I may have been tempted to go with natural treatments, but no more.  When I found out we were afflicted, I went straight for the shit with the warnings all over it.  If this doesn't work, I am not opposed to dunking their sweet little heads in kerosene. 

**SG came by last night so I could check his head.  Thankfully, nothing was on it.  He brought me the underwater camera he bought me for the trip, and he helped out and talked with my mom and me for awhile.  My mom skipped her yoga class to come help, which I appreciate SO much.  After she left, SG looked at Sophie and said, You know what?  Today sucked.  Wanna go get an ice cream cone?