Soundbites From the Edge

2009-02-17T18:53:00.000-08:00

I haven't blogged about this in quite some time. But I'm going to be gathering with the girls from the East Side of Somewhere on February the 26th, and already there's a freshness in the air, a spring in my step, and "Perfect lip gloss" has migrated onto my shopping list. I have to jog my memory to remember what not to wear. Was it the V-neck or the high waist? The cuffed pant or the shirt with rouching? Should my belt and shoes match? Damn. Last time I met up with them I smelled like flowers for 3 days. It was as if a halo of geraniums settled in around my neckline and every time I rotated or flexed my cervical spine I was reminded of how these women just smell good.

They get free flights of wine with a wink of an eye.
When I'm with them, people bring pillows and arm rests and see to it that the temperature is just right. Hair is voluminous and shiny, pores are tight. I'm reminded that I should actually wear a medium and not an extra large and that layering is technology. An old friend I'd forgotten about. I leave feeling like I own stock in Fabulous.

I'll be sure to document the event.

my kind of romance

2009-02-14T08:05:00.001-08:00

Scene:
Josh Groban spinning. Max, Clara, Zoe and I are dancing around in interpretive free form dance. Sharing my special brand of crazy with them, that is better medicated by spontaneous interpretive dance than lithium, although some might disagree, and really, I drive my husband crazy.
Back to our dance. I'm a butterfly, they are gremlins nipping at my heels as I unfold from cocoon to monarch butterfly. Chasing me all over the obstacle course that is our living space. Leaping across laundry in a single bound. I pass Dave just as my twirling begins to unfold into it's full expression, joy radiating from every limb of my body and every lobe of my brain. Feeling the fullness of life and all the joy that exists within it.

Dave shoots me a stern look as I hold this pose, which emanates from the womb of the earth mother & grunts: "Are you having a seizure?"

I unfold and crumple into laughter.

My kind of romance.

Namaste

2009-02-11T08:11:00.001-08:00

"Bear your heart like a torch before you and the darkness shall be light, the stillness the dancing."

T.S. Eliot

magic mechanics and the power of intention

2009-02-01T05:01:00.000-08:00

Imagine a kitchen cabinet completely disorganized with contents perched precariously on top of one another. Topsy turvy. You have one more smallish mixing bowl that needs to find a place so that at least, externally, kitchen looks highly organized for family gathering.

Question:Is it possible, with great speed, eyes clothes, head tucked to: openthecabinetshovethebowlinandshutitagain without sustaining injury?

The answer is sweet.
It is Yes.

And if you are, like myself, a believer in magic mechanics and the power of intention, you, like me, KNOW, that this achievement has as much to do with how tightly the eyes are sealed shut, as well as the degree to which you KNOW this will work. And the success in the telling of this important story, has as much to do with the number of commas used, as it does content.

And with that.

Namaste.

Presidents and Puppies

2009-01-29T12:26:00.000-08:00

Cruising through Tim Horton's drive-thru for my Chai fix. Transaction complete.

Clara: "Mommy, I don't want to hand out Tea when I grow up - IT'S TOO HARD"
Me: "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Clara: "President!"

Then in another form of pure sweetness, Clara asks me:
"Mommy how do you spell Trader Joes?"
I spell it, ask why, and she tells me she needs to remember how to get there so she can go to "Rumford Pets" next door to get the baby Chihuahua next week.

So quickly she forgets. Why it was just last week that we witnessed the untimely death of a squirrel that ran into our house via Oola our boxer. A full size red squirrel! And this is a baby mini Chihuahua!

2009-01-27T19:27:00.000-08:00

Just counted 18 coffee mugs in my cabinet.
There are only 2 coffee/tea drinkers in this house.

OK, I'm done thinking now.

Namaste

2009-01-22T18:37:00.001-08:00

I'd stick to my goal of posting something charming, or more likely sarcastic, or even more likely littered with commas, every few days, but I'm feeling a bit wonky.
Mentally ill. Rest of the group has been sick on and off for 2 weeks. Coughing all night, coughing all day. If barfing were a celebration, I'd say Wednesday night was masquerading as the fourth of July.

In the converse, I'm feeling especially chipper about my kitchen cabinets! They've been a beacon of purity in the midst of the infestation! And while Dave did NOT notice on his own, once I penetrated the wax in his ears with my resonating melodic voice, there was a glimmer of acknowledgement. Wiping down the cabinets is now something I've become fairly obsessed with. I wipe several down daily now, and yes I am slightly Bi-polar. And I end sentences with prepositions.

Namaste.

Microbiotica

2009-01-18T12:19:00.000-08:00

For the first time in 5 years I scrubbed all my kitchen cabinets.

It was disgusting and if this is something normal people do regularly, I'd rather not know. Should you find yourself recoiling in horror, center yourself and contemplate the indigenous microbiotica crawling all over your skin 24/7.
My feeling is that at the end of my life, if I spent the 2 monthly hours required to stay on top of this situation, over the course of oh, say, 35 years, I'll have spent in excess of 4,680 hours on this task. I'd rather log that time in sleeping or exercising or drinking, or talking to Rosana on the phone. Thats about 56,000 5' headstands which is a more certain Nirvana than the flicker of recognition I'll receive for this menial task. And with 20/40 vision and not a pair of specs to be found, I'm not going to notice.

So if my husband, upstairs, asunder with man-cold, doesn't notice my efforts, rest assure I will never do this again. To top it off, now I'm afflicted with carpal and mental tunnel syndrome. And yes, I enjoy commas.

Namaste.

I just decided that dipping oil and sourdough bread a yummy breakfast make.

2009-01-18T10:46:00.000-08:00

And also, after having had little to no interest in a nightly glass of red wine, I'm now announcing to you all (Hi Gina!) that I am entering back into a wine phase.
*Coincidentally, the kids have all been home sick for 4 days.

*The index of coincidence can be used to analyze whether two events are related. A coincidence does not prove a relationship, but related events may be expected to have a higher index of coincidence. From a statistical perspective, coincidences are inevitable and often less remarkable than they may appear intuitively.

I want to be VERY VERY VERY HOT

2009-01-17T13:45:00.000-08:00

Scene:

Clara sleeping, Max at Home Depot, Me and Zoe dancing formlessly with abandon in the kitchen
Spinning: High school musical MEGAMIX full version on repeat.
I'm loving this dance party as much as Zoe. All limbs flailing, hamstrings open from yoga, highest kicks ever. Zoe breaking out in spins on the floor. Suddenly Zoe stops, and looks at me with her serious, I'm 4 going on 16 face and shares her secret: "mommy i want to be very very very HOT when I grow up."
Me: "Zoe, what does that mean."
Zoe: "IT MEANS VERY VERY VERY BEAUTIFUL!"
Me: (after professing how beautiful she is) "Where did you hear about this?"
Zoe: "Max"

Egads!

The Making of Shark Teeth

2009-01-14T10:02:00.000-08:00

Hmmm. Haven't been here in a while. Perhaps redecorating will make this more appealing. Hello blogger? Better templates please!

News:

Max. 7.97 years of age. Enjoyable & charming and brilliant most of the time. Except for 95% of the time where he demonstrates that he is able to escalate Clara's emotions to fever pitch in a single bound. Exercises that skill regularly. If I wasn't a yogi, I'd be a druggie.

Clara continues to inspect produce and grains for imperfections. And by imperfections I mean the slightest spot on an apple and by slightest spot I mean a mark the size of an atom that you would never see in a million years unless you have a jewelers glass implanted in your cornea like Clara. And don't even talk to me about a single visible grain in a slice of whole wheat bread. I spend more time than I care to admit inspecting bread at market to try and avoid the grain reflex. Sure, I could just make her eat it. Or refuse to give her something else with the idea that at some point she'll be hungry enough to eat it. You go ahead and try that. Be prepared to sop up the puddle of sadness that will be Clara. And while your at it, have the fire extinguisher at the ready. Because soon she will tire of this emotion and upgrade to anger and redemption. I"ll meet you at the bread aisle. Bring your magnifying glass.

Then there's the issue of smell. She wont sit at the table with us if were eating anything that has an odor to it. And by odor, that means anything with ingredients in it, that has been cooked long enough to release the flavor. I, along with my colleagues, are cultivating a whole new mental syndrome. PTSD surrounding the years of utter rejection at the family dinner table. I have to talk myself off a ledge every time I hunker down in the kitchen to find a well balanced meal that will satisfy.

Next topic: Thumb Sucking And The Making Of Shark Teeth. I'm now left to face the fact that I "let" (as if I had any choice) Clara suck her thumb long enough that while straight, all of her teeth slightly angle forward. Forward enough that a new set of sneaky adult teeth are cropping up, slightly inset from the ones sticking out in the front row. 2 rows. Enough contact to loosen the baby teeth, but not enough to push them out. But just enough to make eating anything solid nearly impossible.

Finally: In between mealtimes, Clara prances about spreading sunshine. In a good moment, able to outshine the sun on a blazing hot summer day! Able to belt out show tunes like she's in a smoky blues cafe! It's like a roller coaster ride! Bring cotton candy!

Zoe: Quite serious. 4 going on 25. Far too sophisticated for all things age appropriate. Suffers daily when the bus takes Max and Clara off. "I WANT TO GO". Whenever we go somewhere with other children her age, she exclaims 'THIS IS FOR BABIES!'. It nearly kills her that she won't be in kindergarten until 2010, because life at home is too boring! As a September baby, I fully expect her to try and sneak into 2nd grade with Clara as she's so over baby stuff like the alphabet and numbers and childhood in general. I'm afraid I'm going to have to fish her eyes out of her forehead from all the rolling.

Zoe feels as strongly about her wardrobe as Clara feels about her produce and grains. The shirt or dress "HAS TO HAVE A DESIGN ON IT!" I could send Clara off to school in potato sack. Zoe's needs are strong yet simple. She just wants that great outfit that she wore yesterday, that is now in the washing machine, sopping wet. She has an uncanny ability to know what is unavailable, and to then desire that more than anything. And I have the uncanny ability to slip off into another dimension. Yes, I'm talking about an out of body experience. I'll come back someday. LIke defintely next week when Obama is inaugurated.

The End.

2008-12-20T12:20:00.001-08:00

Happy Holidays!

http://elfyourself.jibjab.com/view/i5pU0xfuuI8HEI3iqJIK

NUCULAR

2008-10-03T10:30:00.000-07:00

After having heard Bush say it for years, and now Palin chirping in, I'm starting to think the correct pronunciation is Nucular. HELLO NUCLEAR!
Perhaps Iraq does have a program, they are just capitalizing on the inability of our Leader to pronounce it correctly. 10 years from now, they'll say "OH YOU MEANT NUCLEAR!"

I'm off to go participate in some nucular family bonding.

Namaste.

2008-08-11T09:59:00.000-07:00

Just made Zucchini bread with the kids, which is fun, but this is how my brain works:

- Children plucked zucchini fresh from our own garden (fresh air and outdoor education requirements - check)
- Children gathered various cooking utensils & measured out ingredients for baking (daily math, sorting exposure & fine motor skills development - check)
- Cultivating the children's ability to work together - check
- Used whole wheat flour, brown rice syrup vs. white flour and sugar. (Teaching the children about healthy choices - check.)

Living out the dream of a Rockstar mom for at least 60 minutes - check

FLYING HIGH

2008-08-08T15:35:00.001-07:00

Emotionally soaring! Flying on the wings of change!

Kitchen is completely dismantled. Every tool, utensil, pan and perishable from every nook and cranny laid out on all available counter and floor space.

Mission: Re-org sponsored by total O.C.D, Harpoon IPA, my IPOD and the ever present support of other humans bound by the constant desire for, yet never actualized state of, complete home organization. The silent war being played out in homes across america 24/7. Like a heartbeat emanating from the center of the Earth.

Dave's hiding, in horror, while the magic unfolds.

2008-07-11T19:42:00.000-07:00

Stories

2008-07-11T16:30:00.000-07:00

With all the free time on our hands, I've been forced to cultivate several new and exciting activities to distract Max, Clara and Zoe from what appears to be a DNA directive. DRIVE EACH OTHER INSANE VIA VARIOUS MIND NUMBING TACTICS. One of the most successful activities is when I call out "ONCE UPON A TIME!" and we all race to the computer and write stories. They each dictate a line and then afterwards I soften the edges. I haven't had to edit much, I think all the Grimms Fairy Tales have sunk in and some skills are developing here!

Short Story#1:

Once upon a time there was a girl dragon, named Pinktonk. She was sipping a yummy drink made out of mud. All of a sudden, out popped a warthog! Then out popped a big bunny! The bunny farted.
A boy was walking along in the woods and he said “What is that stinky smell?” He saw the dragon Pinktonk and asked her to dance and share the yummy drink. Then the dragon asked the boy to marry her. The boy thought to himself, “Should I really marry this dragon?” She’s drinking mud & I bet I’ll have to take a bath in a swamp if we are to be married. That is not the life for me.
On the boy walked.
The boy walked on.
Suddenly a giant appeared, and said “I’ll grind your guts to make my bread and I’ll squeeze your liver to make my jelly”.
The boy squealed, “PLEASE EAT ME! THERE IS A MOSQITUO BITING MY ARM AND I WISH TO LIVE NO MORE!”
The Giant was astonished and ran away.
The boy walked on and found a little puppy. Said the boy to the puppy, “If I take you with me, I’ll have to give you baths which is a really big responsibility so I’m afraid I have to leave you here – good by now.”
The boy made his way home and found that he had arrived back at the dragon’s lair. The dragon was very pleased to see him again and asked, “Did you change your mind about marrying me?”
The boy said “No”, turned away and walked home. Once in his house he felt all alone. Boo Hoo. He went racing back to the dragon, Pinktonk, married her and they lived happily ever after. Swamp baths and muddy drinks weren’t so bad after all.

The End.
By Max,Clara,Zoe

THE YOGA ROOM

2008-03-11T12:14:00.000-07:00

The Glam Zone

2008-03-06T14:13:00.001-08:00

Well I'm heading into the Glam Zone this weekend. The East Side of Somewhere, located approximately 25 miles East of the West Side of Nowhere. Where people wear matching socks, have style and everything else that goes along with that, like, scarfs and jewelry. This means for one, that I'm going to have to go shopping and also, that I might fire up my curling iron. I'm told we'll be having some good cheap Italian eats at a VFW of sorts and when I asked what I should wear, she replied that I should dress like Italian ladies do when they go out on a Saturday nite. After careful consideration of who I will be out with, I'm not sure how to achieve a style crossover between Soprano's and Wysteria Lane, but I'm heading right to Banana Republic where they have the answers to these sorts of questions.
We're celebrating Kim's, ahem, 41st birthday. She's SEVERAL years older than me you know. And has a waistline that is SEVERAL inches smaller than mine so were even. We go back about 20 years, and between the 2 of us, this can be translated into 2 husbands, one a piece, 6 children, 240 lbs gained and lost (and that's being conservative), inebriation, lactation and the acquisition of several hundred nodules on our voice boxes. At one time, from belting out American Pie at Fraternity Parties, and now from belting out several thousand commands, on a daily basis, to 6 small children. Throw in some harmless cysts in some unfortunate locations, a kidney stone attack and some hair dye and you have 2 decades lived fully.

20 years ago we thought it was a good idea to do inverted keg stands for recreation. (Imagine handstand on keg, with tap in mouth and you get the picture.) We've spent the last 20 years evolving and now I'm thinking we might have had it right in the first place. With my inversion skills from a regular headstand practice and Kim's stamina from masters rowing participation, we're sure to SMASH our previous record of 29 seconds...

Happy Birthday Kim!

DISNEY

2008-01-27T16:37:00.001-08:00

Back from Disney World!
While I have had to go through a bit of a crisis to admit this, if I'm being honest, I loved every minute of it! (**See below for the exception). Which is difficult for me to say with my alter Eco - ego, who prefers to tread lightly upon the earth, shop organic, practice yoga and play with wooden toys. In Disney it's sensory overload and while I'm quite sure Walt Disney world has the ecological footprint of a wooly mammoth, I've never seen Clara's eyes sparkle quite like they did on the ride Soarin', which very realistically simulated flying in a hang-glider over the coast of California. As most children and adults around me pushed back into their seats with a bit of fear, she leaned out over the edge of her seat squealing in delight, "Hello down there!" And the way Zoe blushed when she gazed up at PRincess Aurora and said "Am I a princess too and do you love me?". And the Tin Man, I mean Max, was on fire designing robots in Epcot (or as Zoe called it, Apricot). It was sweet family fun for 8 days and even the nights became sweet once Dave and I realized it was better to keep them up at the parks 2 hours past their normal bedtime, rather than torture ourselves in a one room hotel room while they inflicted emotional pain on each other as if they were spraying it out of an aerosol can.
I'm so crazy for Disney I actually considered signing up for Disney Vacation Club, signing on for a Disney Rewards Mastercard and purchasing a season's pass. The utter lunacy of this finally sunk in so I walked away un-tethered. But I do feel strongly that we'll go back annually or at least every other year. Don't even get me started on the hotel room where there are no dishes to be done, snack vending machines are in the laundry room and fairies come every day when I'm gone and clean my suite. And leave washcloths fashioned into Disney Characters along the vanity.

The exception:
**The public bathrooms, in which I spent allot of time with wee Zoe and wee Clara, left me feeling quite allot like I do after cooking poultry, which I no longer do by the way. It left me feeling infected. Completely and utterly infected with millions of parasites running about and coating my clothing and skin. And the clothing and skin of Zoe and Clara who accompanied me. Pre children, thanks to my mighty hamstrings & street smarts, I was able to maintain a completely touchless experience in the bathroom. And unless the potty critters were jumpers, I was getting out with nary a germ to be found. When I see my girls sitting on the public potty, especially when they are not in Whole Foods Market, it makes me feel like they might as well be sitting on a toilet seat made of raw poultry. And let's be honest. It's not all that clean in my house all the time. Yes I swish and swipe daily, but I"m not in the habit of using cleaning products that involve bleach. But the germs in our house are my germs. We live together everyday and have special agreements. LIke I won't destroy all of them with bleach and they agree to not populate to the extent that I am aware of them. Things seem to have been going quite nicely.
But I have no familiarity whatsoever with the germs we encounter on the foreign Orlando potties and yes, I do wipe them down and place the paper covers on them. But then I don't have systems in place to deal with the fact that the 3 of us (me, zoe and clara) are typically all in one stall at one time and with all the shuffling around in a space the size of a shoebox, I'm quite sure that every surface of each of our bodies, at one point, comes in contact with every surface of the toilet and surrounding area. There are many other things I could say about this that disgusts me, but I don't want to cast a sooty shadow on what was otherwise, a trip filled with sparkling clean good fun!
More photos to follow...

Granny?

2008-01-06T15:38:00.000-08:00

Zoe: "Mommy I want Juice!"
Me : On task, mixing up water and juice like it's 1999
Zoe: "Go Granny, Go Granny, Go Granny!"

HUH?

Happy New Year from Max Clara and Zoe!

2007-12-29T11:20:00.001-08:00

2006

2007
Heres hoping 2008 is filled with good clean fun!

A moment in Bedlam

2007-12-29T10:48:00.000-08:00

Scene: Saturday morning... Clara crawling toward the family room, Max in toe, hitting her with a Christmas wrapping paper tube. Clara isn't screaming, but the repetitive thrashing motion of the wrapping paper tube pulls me from my own eternal repetitive action, of moving clothes from the washer to the dryer...

Me: "Max, stop hitting Clara!"
Max: "I'm not, I'm whipping her!"
Me: "Oh"

I'm always thrown off by the adjective quick switch. Max is aware of this, is good with words and frequently uses this technique. He knows somehow (perhaps by my dumfounded silence) that it's confusing for me when he uses synonyms. So it's true that he's not hitting her, it is a more accurate statement, based on the implement he's using that it is more of a whipping action and now somehow I'm lost in a world of comprehending that he can use synonyms accurately in a sentence and by the time I arise from the fog, the moment has passed and I've just noticed that Clara is now snapping the mouse trap open and shut and the potential of her snapping off her finger is now ranking above disciplining aforementioned buttocks whooping.

Namaste.

Christmas!

2007-12-27T07:12:00.000-08:00

See how max has his hand on the Lego Mars Mission box, as if he were feeling the pulse of his own beating heart? Thump thump. Thump thump. It's because he is. For the life and breath of Max dwells within the heart of Lego Land. Where underwater substations and Alien space terminals abound.

See the warm glow surrounding Zoe and Clara? It's all about My Little Pony. Pinkie Pie. The most wonderful pony of them all.

Kitty on Board

2007-12-27T07:10:00.000-08:00

2007-12-24T15:18:00.001-08:00

CLICK HERE or cut and paste
http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1773537376

2007-12-13T14:55:00.000-08:00

This photo perfectly exhibits what a true delight it can be to be in the company of Max. Give him a wig and a stage and you get solid gold.

Glasses courtesy of David Swanson archives. Stylin in the early 90's? not so much...

Dreamboat

2007-12-13T14:52:00.000-08:00

Tracking and the Unraveling Of My Psyche

2007-12-07T09:21:00.001-08:00

If anything were going to sever the tenuous hold I have on my mental well-being, it's not the sibling rivalry nor the constant requests for juice. It's the tracking. Im talking emotional tracking. I'm talking physical tracking. Children following me around, asking me over and over again for things that are out of stock or my favorite, unavailable food items containing colors like red die #3, which has been shown to cause thyroid tumors in rats & aren't I a bad mother for denying them this opportunity! Of course I can't really explain this to them or Max will start pointing at all red snacks in the cafeteria exclaiming "Alert! That item has been found to cause tumors in rodents" and then I'll have unhappy mothers tracking me too.

I can take maybe 5 minutes of this and then I start to have the distinct sensation that my brain is seeping out of my fingernails. I try and walk away from the situation and then they follow me. The little people. They follow me. Sometimes I shut the door to my bedroom, but we don't have locks, so they just open it. I lose all track of time. At some point they stop and I slowly scratch and claw my way back up into my emotional body and then we move on and I start folding laundry or take on some other mundane task that requires little of me. While I recover.

It's the holidays... my good friend sarcasm has taken up residence in my frontal lobe to help me cope with the insanity and I'm having a bad day...
I'm sure tomorrow will be lovely...

Namaste.

Event Calendar, Round 2 - Max

2007-12-03T10:44:00.000-08:00

Day 2
I'm thrilled to report that day 2 has been a success. It looks like my threats from yesterday (that I would give the Event Calendar away) have sunk in.
Today was a success!
Gift opened by Max. Clara and Zoe in a state of acceptance and semi acceptance respectively.

The Annual Event Calendar

2007-12-02T06:46:00.000-08:00

Every year, our magically enthusiastic and celebratory friends drop an Advent Calendar off on our doorstep so that the children can count down the days to Christmas with the daily ritual of opening a present.
With an uncharacteristic show of civility, Max Clara and Zoe lined up to pick strings and the one with the longest string was to kick the tradition off by opening the first present. The rules of engagement were discussed and happily received. "YES WE KNOW MOMMY". I explained that each child would take turns opening a gift, one per day and that there would be no trading. And if there were going to be tears by onlookers, they had to be silent tears with no vocal accompaniment. Or if they were feeling exceedingly sad, they could simply remove themselves from the situation and maintain a comfortable distance from me, of oh...say.... 5,000 nautical miles.

So it was with great optimism that I kicked off the Advent Calendar tradition and already civility has been cast aside and replaced by torment. As I sit here and write on the first day (Clara's Day), Zoe has spilled her body all over the floor in a puddle of tears, Max is wailing & repeating over and over again that the girls ALWAYS GET TO GO FIRST & Clara is prancing around waving her present like a flag of triumph. I guess it's unrealistic to think that they can manage much beyond play, pouring their own juice and using the potty. I need to STOP being so optimistic now that they are 3, 4 and 6 and START realizing that they are 3, 4 and 6.

Moving forward, I will now refer to the Advent Calendar as the EVENT Calendar and during that time, I will refer to my sweet darlings as Thing 3, Thing 4 and Thing 6.

I welcome it. Another opportunity for the children to transcend & break the code of willful DNA that Dave and I passed along to them.

First Quarter Repord Card Teacher Comments

2007-11-13T11:08:00.000-08:00

On Max: "Max is an excellent student. He is doing well in all areas of the curriculum. He excels in reading and is reading 2 levels above the benchmark for this quarter. Max's enthusiasm for learning is contagious! He has a good inquisitive nature that helps him problem solve and excel in science. Max is a positive role model and a joy to have in the classroom."

GOOOOOOOOOOO MAX!

What I'm reading...

2007-11-11T14:43:00.000-08:00

There really is no better way to know what my current fancy is then to know what 3 books I'm reading. I'm always reading (at least) 3 books at one time and they are currently, and in no particular order:

"Eat pray love" by Elizabeth Gilbert on the recommendation of my friend Fancy. It's going to awaken my desire to go on a year long sabatical to eat/pray & love so I may have to table that one if I start getting too ancy. Cuz GOD knows I could use a sabbatical. The only thing I know for sure at this point in my life is that the best beer out on the market is Dog Head Fish 60 minute India Pale Ale. And I bet a year of reflection would bring more generally accepted insights into the good things in life.

"Anatomy of Hatha Yoga" a 600 paged textbook that I will be navigating for the next year as I undergo the rigours of a 2nd yoga teacher training. Because as it turns out, I love teaching Yoga almost as much as I love practicing it and want to evolve my understanding of 'stuff' like bones and muscles. I tend to get more interested in evolving my sanskrit pronunciation, but it's not all about ME now. : )

"Nuture the Nature" by Michael Gurian which will definitely give me the low down on how to nuture the nature of my 3 deliciously wild offspring. And really they are not all that wild. I just want the in-fighting to simmer down a little. OK stop completely.

Namaste.

My House is Clean and I am Now Declaring it a National Treasure

2007-11-08T16:08:00.000-08:00

My house is clean.

This is really something people.

It hasn't been this organized in a long time and I am now going to treat it as if a Supreme Being came down from on high and declared it a protected space. A space so worthy, simply because I live here and I worked so hard cleaning and organizing it for the past 5 years. I have gotten close to gaining control over my home before, but then BANG (3) back to back, 9 month set backs, I mean pregnancies. But now that Zoe is three, Clara is 4.5 and Max is 6.5 they can largely fend for themselves, freeing me up to do things like fold laundry, scrub floors and shine my kitchen sink every night before I go to bed. I peer into my dishless, shiny sink every morning and I know who is the fairest of them all. My mental well being is all wrapped up in this shiny sink situation, so don't mess. Don't leave any dishes in my sink. That's right, put them straight into the dishwasher. This, my friends, is a proteted space whereupon I can reflect and rejoice.

In fact I now patrol my entire home like a National Park Ranger. Scanning my environment for debris and checking to see if anything is running amiss, like the bathroom needing a fresh hand towel.

I have fought long and hard to reach this point. Even though this point that I have reached might only meet minimum national standards of cleanliness, for me it is the zenith. The cleanest it will ever be...

Namaste.

All blissed out, yes for sure it's a fine thang.

2007-10-18T15:42:00.000-07:00

Well little darlings IM HOME
Re-entry has be fairly smooth with the exception of some bends at the 9am 1st grade field trip Tuesday morning.

I feel refreshed in a just been away losing sleep for for fabulous reasons like the presence of top shelf wine bars in my vicinity kind of way.

All good things are to come as a result of this wonderous getaway and I intend of refreshing and repleneshing annually with this posse of old friends in the FINE city of San Francisco. It's also my intention to make the slightly more affordable Walnut Creek (hear me universe!) my home within 3 - 5 years.

Peace out.

Hi!

2007-10-11T20:48:00.000-07:00

Still in Los Angeles! Heres a photo of me flying a plane.
Just kidding.
Max, hope you had fun at Annan's house today. Tomorrow will be great - you are going to Damma and Pops for the weekend! I'm sure it will be fun filled, ice-cream filled and movie-licious.

Enjoy!

I'll call you during the day. Tomorrow (Friday) I'll be flying in a plane from Los Angeles to San Francisco. Meeting up with Julia there! Jonah and Helena are at home in R.I. as well. We'll all have an east coast playdate next week.

LOVE TO YOU!
Mom
p.s. I'm come home with a brand new fun toy for each of you! Will you meet me at the airport?

Living it up in LA

2007-10-11T08:36:00.000-07:00

Dear Max, Clara and Zoe,
Good Morning!
It's 8:30 and I'm sitting here rolling with 4 cups of coffee and pj's.
I think I'll go sit by the pool in a few minutes and then follow up with a SHOWER which doesn't sound like a big deal. But how fabulous it will be for me, in light of our ongoing bathroom remodel resulting in baths. I love baths, but just for the purpose of pure relaxation, not contortionist bathing where I have to use my core strength while washing my hair under the faucet.

I digress.
LA is wonderful! Aunt Amy has been serving up delicious food since the second I arrived. In fact, she is making a strawberry pie from scratch right now and it's only 8:40am!
I think we'll go shoe shopping later and perhaps get some manicures. (Dave did you fall off your chair yet?)

Missing you!
xoxo
Mom

Updates from the skies

2007-10-10T13:29:00.000-07:00

Took off from Cleveland, now flying over nebraska! Flying up at 30,000 feet, we'll be up here for 4 1/2 hours now. Can't wait until were flying as a family to DISNEY. Just 3 more months.
Max, check with daddy to see all the states I'm flying over

A little baby screamed for the first 2 hours of the flight. Clara how do you think mommy felt inside? Happy or sad?

Zoe, you'd be happy to know that I spoke in depth with my seat-mate. Her name is not Stella, but rather Suzanne. I asked her all the questions you would have wanted the answers to. She is a girl, she lives in a house in Cleveland and she has many friends - also not named Stella. I'll see if I can get to the answers to some of your other favorite questions as the flight continues. I'm thinking maybe moving forward we'll actually interrogate people together so that you feel more satisfied in general.

I'm working on lots of Yoga homework up here, should be caught up by the time I'm back home again with you....
xoxo
Mom

Cleveland, OH; 12:10pm; next stop L.A.

2007-10-10T09:08:00.000-07:00

Hi guys!
Here in Cleveland. Flew in on a very small plane that I was not that pleased with but all went swimmingly! (THankfully not literally).
Now waiting for plane to arrive so that I can hop on and get to Aunt Amy and Uncle Paul in L.A.

Hope you guys had a good day in school and that Zoe enjoyed Library with Ms. Agnes!
I'll call you tonite when I arrive in L.A.

Max, ask Daddy to research all the big brown spots I saw on our descent into Cleveland. Cleveland looks allot different than RI! And did I pass an ocean? There was a large body of water...

Let me know in comments....
: )
xoxo
Love
Mom

Hi from TF Green!

2007-10-10T06:02:00.000-07:00

Hi Max Clara and Zoe!
Sitting here in TF Green waiting to leave for Cleveland en route to L.A.
Missing you.
Zoe there are lots of people here who I'm sure have interesting stories to tell! Too bad you're not here to ask "Who is she?" "Who is he?"
I'll tell you all about them when I come home.

Talk to you soon! Have to run, my airplane is about to board!
Tune in later today... I'll email you from Cleveland airport.
xoxo
Mom

A taxing dialogue

2007-10-09T20:42:00.000-07:00

I just figured I'd share another scintillating (yeah, I know I misspelled it. Probably misspelled the word misspelled too. I'm over it.) conversation that went on for nearly 20 minutes today.
Setting the scene: Trip to Town Hall
Pulling in, Zoe is scanning the scene to see what she can start talking about.
Zoe: "Mommy, who lives here?"
MommY: "The tax assessor and we need to have her stamp something"
Zoe: "Who is that girl?"
Mommy: "The tax assessor"
Zoe: "But WHO IS SHE!?!"
Mommy: "Stella"
Zoe: "NO MOMMY SHE IS THE TAX ACCESSORRERRRy, not STELLA Mommy. Shes not Stella Mommy!!!!"
Mommy: Silence
Zoe: "Mommy does she live here?"
Mommy: "No Zoe she just works here."
Zoe: "BUt does she LIVE here?"
Mommy: "No Zoe, she does NOT live here, she works here"
Zoe: "Does she have friends?"
Mommy: "Yes"
Zoe: "Are we her friends?"
Mommy: "I guess Zoe"
Zoe: "DO HER FRIENDS LIVE HERE MOMMY?"
(Said with great emphasis, this is CLEARLY important for her to find out. THere is always the critical question in every dialogue with Zoe and until you answer it, the conversation will not end. Realizing with her emphasis that this is the big question, I contemplate an answer that will give her closure so that, while as sure as the sun will set, this conversation will continue, at least we can move on from the topic of the tax assesor to something more exciting like the guy sitting by the fire hydrant.)
Mommy: "Zoe, the tax assessor does live in this house. The town lives in this house - it is the Town House. All of the tax assessor's friends live here with her and in fact all of the people in all of the land are our friends and all live in this Town House except for us we live in our house."

Silence

Zoe: "Mommy, where are we going?"

Mommy is actually going to california by herself for 6 days tomorrow!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'll miss you guys allot but will come back with something FUN.

xoxo

Zoe's Birthday Tea Party!

2007-10-04T18:49:00.000-07:00

Zoe your three! We celebrated with a Tea Party for our friends and beloved dolls and teddy bears. Ginger tea was served with peanut butter sandwiches, crumpets and morsels of sweetness. Your friends engaged in the ritual with great enthusiasm and it was a perfectly beautiful day, just as it should be for a little Zoe...

On a TV fast with nowhere to go...

2007-10-04T18:25:00.001-07:00

So here I sit. On a TV fast with nowhere to go, so I thought why not catchup on the doings of the Max, Clara and Zoe!

Max: Your my toothless boy darling. REcently you lost the 2 top teeth and it's the cutest look ever, just in time for your first grade pictures!
You don't care for school and dare I say I don't care for school? It takes you away from me at 8:35 a.m. and you don't return until 3:50 pm. It's too long of a day and at orientation I glazed over just hearing about your schedule and the news of the "working snack". Apparently I have to send you with a snack that you can hold in one hand so that your other hand is free to multitask and facilitate non-stop learning. This means the snack also has to be left hand appropriate and fairly uncomplicated so that your right hand can carry on. I sense "NO child left behind" is in full force with testing standards and pressure on teachers. I'm ready to propose the "No workbooks for 6 year old children" act but I'm not sure that will endear you or I to the elementary school staff so I'll wait a few months before I come visiting in a clown costume to brighten your day. Other than school, we've been having loads of fun playing tennis, skateboarding, mountain biking etc... You call every weekend a holiday and I try pack in as much fun as we can before 8:35 a.m. Monday morning rolls around.

Clara: I continue to speculate that at birth, a jewlers glass was inserted into your cornea just for the purpose of inspecting produce. You take great joy in pointing out the smallest imperfections in bananas and apples so then I have to perform produce imperfection extractions because really I have nothing better to do with my life. I guess it's better than fetching juice because a part of me feels like you have the motor skills to fetch your own juice and only spill it when doing so in order to keep me on retainer.
On other fronts, you've been very happy in school this year with the exception that there are now BOYS in your class. For the first 4 weeks, everytime I picked you up you told me that you don't care for boys and why do they have to be in your class? But now they are beginning to endear themselves to you and I sense some acceptance on the horizon. Of course that will turn into condemnation again at some point as you seem to enjoy exploring every possible emotion in relation to every possible subject. (reminds me of someone else I know... hee hee). We went to the beach every Thursday this summer and it still amazes me that your favorite beach day was the one when you were romping around on the beach in the freezing, pouring rain while the rest of us huddled under a canopy. WHy were we there you ask? I don't want weather to affect our actions so we stick with our plans unless there's a small craft advisory in effect. I need you to be hardy and willfull so that you will fit right in to our family dynamic. We are CAMPERS and I need you to be down with rain and bugs. So far it's working!

Zoe: My delicious baby. I think you believe your purpose, now that you have a robust vocabulary, is to talk all the live-long day. My favorite though is everytime I get off the phone or everytime a teller at the bank serves us or everytime someone gives me change at the Dunkin Donuts window you ask "Who is that Mommy?" If my answer is "someone serving us coffee" etc you start yelling at me, "Mommy who is it?" So sometimes I say Stella and that doesn't work either as we start to cycle in and out of conversations along the likes of the following:
"Mommy who's that lady"
"The lady serving us coffee"
"Mommy who is she?!!!"
(me thinking, OK she needs a name so I throw out:) "Stella"
"Who's Stella?"
"She's the lady serving us coffee?"
"BUT WHO IS SHE?"
"I don't know Zoe!"
CRIES CRIES CRIES
So then I try a different tact and throw out a name she knows. "Calm down Zoe, its just Damma..."
"NO ITS NOT DAMMA, ITS STELLA"
And I won't go on with this because I can't bear to think about this for another minute. Suffice to say this dialogue goes on a 2-3 times a day or anytime we have any type of human contact with someone she doesn't know. I'm going cast humanity aside any minute now just to avoid this unbearable dialogue.

So that's it for me right now. I'll write about more fun and sunshine tomorrow and all the wonderful traits you all have. The image of 5 loads of laundry left to be folded upstairs is burning a hole through my brain and casting a shadow over my typically sunny dispostion....

Potty Talk Loopholes

2007-09-24T10:23:00.000-07:00

Clara: "I love calling you Mommy Poo"
Me: "Clara, no potty talk!"
Clara: "MOMMY, just like Winnie the Poo, I like to call you Mommy the Poo."

Sure you do Clara... Secretely I admire your cleverness!

Banana Haiku

2007-09-08T06:03:00.000-07:00

Bananas gone bad
Just microwave them on high
Kills all the fruit flies

Children:
While you may may do your level best to push my buttons, nothing makes me more ILL than ripe bananas. Except for ripe bananas with fruit flies circling. Or when all the bananas break off at the top from the stalk when I pick them up. Ew. As far as I'm concerned, when they get past the slightly green starchy stage, they are rotten. They have then become bad bananas that I put in the naughty corner until Daddy can work his magic and make them into pure and sweet banana chocolate chip muffins.

Born again bananas.

All in the eyes of the beholder

2007-08-20T06:28:00.000-07:00

Setting the scene: Max and CLara building with Lincoln Logs:
Max, 6: Clara that looks like a garbage can
Clara, 4: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" (blood curling screams)
Me: Max that wasn't kind!
Max: "MOM, to me it's a garbage can, to her it's a rose..."

Max on Board!

2007-08-18T05:29:00.001-07:00

Dear Max,
Your skateboarding!
And the really good news is that your ecstatic about it! I've seen more spark over this sport than any other, with the exception of sparring with Clara.
You say you want to play soccer, but we get to the game and you'd rather be throwing a frisbee on the sidelines - I can't blame you - I wouldn't want to be involved in 15 boys ganging up on one soccer ball either!
You say you want to play T-ball, but it's not something you talk about at all once we leave the field.

But skateboarding! You wake up and immediately ask if we can go to the skate park, which has invariably left us with another way I regularly fail you, because I can't take you everyday. I'm OK with this. I'm crystal clear on the fact that I'm mean and don't meet your expectations. Apparently I signed off on some sort of agreement when you were born, that not only would I fetch you juice and snacks all day, I would also take you to the skate park 24/7 once you and your board found each other. That day came on July 3rd, just a few weeks ago. You had been demonstrating excellent balancing skills on rocks and miscellaneous debris so I thought to myself, why not add wheels into the mix? I opened up the garage door - the only thing between me and the skateboard I'd been saving was a pile I fondly call Mount Debris. Demonstrating excellent balancing skills myself, I traversed the pile & located the board. When I presented you with the it, you lit up like Vegas! You held the board at arms length so that you could really take it in. The moment reminded me of when that guy King Arthur pulled excalibur from the stone. You glowed and crooned in a barritone, "OOOOOHHHH YEAAAHHHH".
I nearly fell over in hysterics because who knew? Who knew providing you with a skateboard would connect you with your true Self. Connect you with your barritone "Ooooohhh yeah!". It pleases me greatly - I think I felt more accomplished in that moment than when I met you after a 24 hour unmedicated birth! Because in this world of trying to meet your unstated expectations, I got it right!

So Jennifer, who is Queen of Fun, set us up with a skateboarding teacher so that you and Annan, (Annan loves his board with equal vigour) can have lessons every thursday after we go to the beach all day. Poor you, landing me as a mother! Beach all day, skateboarding all late afternoon...

Ciao baby,

M.

Headstand on a stump

2007-08-12T10:16:00.000-07:00

Back from a great 7 day camping trip!
Smores, swimming, cards, fishing, canoeing, headstanding on stumps.
more photos soon...

2007-05-04T16:39:00.000-07:00

As frequenty seems to be the case you're each in your own little world...
Max hamming
Zoe discerning
Clara inflating!

The new garden in front of my house

2007-05-04T16:28:00.000-07:00

The highly anticipated house front garden is near complete! Had to dress up the old girl. Shes nearly 231 years old and it's time to freshen up! Next a new coat of paint! Rosana, I know your dying to see the garden in front of the family room. But it's not quite ready yet. When she's blooming I'll post.

First "Girlfriend"

2007-04-20T07:49:00.000-07:00

Max: "Charlotte kissed me on the playground today and it was a Romatic Masterpiece!"

On Bossiness

2007-04-18T17:01:00.000-07:00

Cast of Characters
Max, 6: Thespian, Verbal Magician
Charlotte, 6: Max's 'Girlfiend'
Damma: aging gracefully: MY Mom. Max's Damma

Setting: Day at Damma's house. Rainy on the outside, cranky on the inside. Max and Clara engaged in standard mode of engagement: Combat.

Max: "Damma, I'm kind of bossy."
Damma: "Yes, you are awfully bossy today!"
Max: "Charlotte is bossy too."
Damma: "What happens when you and Charlotte are both bossy at the same time?"
Max: "We fall in love. You and Pop Pop should really try it - it really works!"

Poll question

2007-03-19T17:25:00.000-07:00

Please reflect on the subtleties of Max's hand positions. Now can you deduce which sister he adores and which he is routinely engaged in mutual torment with?

Sister A: Clara - A 48 month old charming, tempestuous lassie with an affinity for whole wheat pasta, yogurt and My Little Pony
Sister B: Zoe - A delicious 31 month old girl with enough will to power up the east coast.

Chock full O' Zoe

2007-03-19T17:18:00.000-07:00

z to the i to the zzle-icious.

How we like to rock the witching hour...

2007-02-28T07:48:00.000-08:00

What's Spinning?
"Play that Funky Music" by Wild Cherry

Mudder

2007-02-14T17:33:00.000-08:00

Me: "Do you know how much I love you Clara?"
Clara: "Oh Mudder, ALL OF THE MINUTES!"

Busy Zoe

2007-02-14T17:29:00.000-08:00

What happened when I spent 30 minutes on the phone catching up with an old friend...

Help Wanted: Pretend Cleaner

2007-02-11T08:56:00.000-08:00

Wanted: Pretend Person to maintain and disinfect pretend household items.
Person needs to be detail oriented & have a love for plastic nooks and crannies:
You will be responsible for:
Cleaning and Disinfecting the following:
- Pretend Kitchen
- Pretend Potty
- Pretend vehicles, which are numerous
- Pretend shopping cart, cash register & scale
- Pretend food, and this aint Mother Hubbards Cupboard
- Pretend strollers

Miscellaneous tasks:
- Launder, Fold and Distribute wardrobes for 2 bitty babies and 5 other dolls
- Launder, Fold and Distribute wardrobes for Pretend Puppies & Bears
- Launder, Fold and Distribute all costumes, including 5 princess gowns, chef's outfit

Real people need not apply.
Real people shouldn't have to do this.
Real people should have had the presence of real mind to realize that they shouldn't have bought pretend things.
They should have just let the children have at it with real kitchens, real wardrobes and real vehicles, so that I, I mean they would have the time to nurture relationships with their pretend friends on Gray's Anatomy, Brothers & Sisters and The Apprentice.

The State of our Union

2007-02-08T15:09:00.000-08:00

Greetings Max, Clara and Zoe

I thought I would take a moment to address recent events in order that you might better understand why I know the answer to questions like: "How much time should elapse between taking advil and drinking alcoholic beverages?".

It appears that an infirmed ghost from the 1700's is living with us and infecting us with all the diseases of yore. First, after having spent 3 weeks with the Flu, we contracted Scarlet Fever. When the doctor told us we (we meaning Max) had Scarlet Fever, I cowered in the corner in shame thinking about how we would have to put a big "S" on our house and burn our clothes to a crisp. Surely we would be cast out when our community heard the news! Then the Doctor advised me that times have changed since the 1700's, that we now have antibiotics to deal with Scarlet Fever and that it's really just strep throat with a rash. THen I realized I was confusing Scarlet Fever with the Scarlet Letter and when I told him that, he mentioned that the Scarlet letter was actually an "A" and not an "S" and was I feeling a little stressed lately?

About 5 days after the rash cleared up, we found ourselves back in the doctors office again, this time with the MUMPS or a viral sibling thereof. MUMPS! SCARLET FEVER!

I do give thanks that none of these illnesses appear to be serious, but please, lets really fire up our immune systems and pull out of this!

ME

Sisters

2007-02-04T17:13:00.000-08:00

Sisters with their dalmations in the nappy dirty dog bed. I pick my battles and this isn't one of them...

Happy Birthday Max

2007-01-31T14:42:00.000-08:00

Dear Max,
HAPPY 6TH BIRTHDAY!
You're one spectacular boy! Full of enthusiasm for reading, Bionicles, friends, apples, Bionicles, sibling rivalry, Pokemon, lego's and TV. Battles sometime surround these enthusiasm's but I admire your tenacity and desire and I'm willing to set limits and let the gargantuan tears fall where they may. At the end of the day, you still say you love me so life with me can't be that sub par.
I sent you to school today with cookies so that you could share them with your classmates. Cookies that I had to search high and low for, as there is a student in your class who has a peanut allergy, and as it turns out nearly all packaging has a disclaimer that says something to the effect of: "WHILE THIS PRODUCT DOES NOT CONTAIN NUTS, THIS PRODUCT MAY HAVE POSSIBLY COME INTO CONTACT WITH A NUT AND THERE IS A STRONG POSSIBILITY THAT NUT VAPORS MIGHT HAVE MYSTERIOUSLY ENTERED THIS FACILITY IN SOME UNKNOWN WAY THEREBY CONTAMINATING THIS PRODUCT".
I feel for this childs parents and hope that these nut free products can be gathered together and sold in a specific section of the market.
Finally I found one stand up company who made a nut free product and was willing to leave the nut disclaimer off their packaging & for that I am thankful. I celebrate "Back to Nature Chocolate Chunk Cookies" and they can be contacted at 866-536-6946. I encourage all of my readers (hi mom) to call this company and congratulate them on not being like all the lawsuit wary pansies who know full well that only human nuts contaminate their facility, but just place that note on their packaging so that they don't get sued.
I digress.
Today was lovely. We reminisced (or I dissertated) about the day you were born and how daddy got lost 3 times on our way home because my going into labor put him into a state of utter confusion. We reminisced (or I dissertated) about how my labor with you was wild and felt like I was journeying with a Shaman (I think I inserted the word power ranger just so you could relate). You said "Oh Wow". Yes, "Oh Wow" was just what I was saying to myself as I explored a 22 hour unmedicated labor. You must have felt like you were journeying through the neck of a glass bottle, but we'll save that sordid conversation for your 7th birthday.

I continue to digress.

Once you came home from school, we all piled in the car and met up with Damma, Pop Pop, Aunt Sharon, Noelle and Owen at Newport Creamery. Unfornately Daddy assumes I am in a state of comprehension between the hours of 7 and 9:30am, which is simply untrue, so I directed him to the wrong Newport Creamery. We missed him, sorry I messed that up for you pal.
So celebrate we did and you now have enough bionicles to wage a campaign of destruction upon your power rangers. Way to go. And the ice cream cake was delicious! I brought the extra ice cream cake home with us with the unstated explicit agreement that one portion of this cake will be for family consumption and one portion of this cake (lets call it one fourth) will be for my pleasure. My pleasure meaning this section will be for me to dig into, pluck and excavate product as I please, because honestly the vanilla and chocolate ice cream are not all interesting to me - I'm in it for the chocolate crunch in the middle as well as all manner of icing. And I really don't want that product handed over to me, that would be too uncomplicated. It's called digging for gold and it's a form of catharticism for me. (Catharticism is my religion, at some point I'll share the doctrines of this faith with you).

Enough from me today.
I promise to come on here more and document the days of our lives so that next week when someone asks me what we did I have a resource through which I have tracked such information. And Daddy won't have to respond so much with, "Go back in your time machine".

Can't wait to see what this new year brings!
Love n' special sauce,
Mom (I think I've graduated from Mommy, at least from your perspective)

On Hobbies

2007-01-14T16:54:00.000-08:00

Whenever I'm about to take on new hobby, my first question is:

"How long until I'm an expert?"

Albuterol, Coffee and Me; A Blessed Trinity.

2007-01-05T16:07:00.000-08:00

I cleaned my house today!
And I don't just mean I cleaned, I mean I DECLUTTERED the entire first level of my house, and theres only 1 room on the upper level. So I decluttered 90% of my house.

And by decluttering I mean I moved all the clutter than was primarily in my kitchen to the 1 room on the upper level, which is my bedroom, and a bit unfortunate, but that room is still a work in progress, so the clutter sort of disapears into the backdrop of unfinished walls, ladders and hammers and isn't this the longest sentence I've ever written!

Regardless, this is a massive accomplishment and I have now decreed that no paper products are permitted on my kitchen counters or anywhere other than my desk for that matter. I know, "Good luck with that." As a defense tactic I have placed a handsome metallic rack in my foyer, which is technically a 2' x 2' space, but just enough room for me to enter, spin 45 degrees counter clockwise and place mail in appropriate bins. And the bins are labled "Recycling", "Dave" and "Me". I will allow papers to reside in that bin for 1 week at which time, anything left unnatended to will shift to recylcing and so it will be from now until the end of time or one week from now when I get lazy.

This high level of productivity was facilitated by 2 very nice, soft slow steady inhalations of albuterol (asthma treatment) to facilitate the opening of my passageways, chased by 4 cups of coffee. And I've only been drinking 1 cup of green tea a day for the last 4 months. The treatment was just what I needed to catapult (literally) me into action.

Shazam.
ps. Mom. Don't be concerned about the Albuterol, I'm not addicted, I happened to be a little asthmatic this morning and decided to capitalize on the situation. You know my cup is always half full...

Three Wise Wee

2006-12-22T18:16:00.000-08:00

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Miracle on Main Street

2006-12-04T15:11:00.000-08:00

Clara,
Something very special happened tonite.

For once, I decided to just give in at the dinner table and not insult you by presenting you with something other than bare naked whole wheat pasta to eat. I had finally grown weary of the daily rejection I endure where you cast away dinner as if I've just asked you to nap on a bed of rusty nails, and "duh", like that's even a possibility! So of course tonite, after I decided to just give in, you said to me:
"Mamma, why aren't you giving me spinach lasagna on my plate?"
I wanted to reply with, "As if!"
but said,
"Why would you like some?" - knowing you were just tricking me.
So, as if paying to see a movie that I knew would be a lemon, I reluctantly placed my coins (aka lasagna) before you. In what seemed like an eternity, you brought the fork up to your mouth and ate it! You ate spinach lasagna! You ate it for nearly 3 minutes until you realized that you don't do THAT, THAT being eating food with ingredients in it.

I have the monitor on extra loud tonite, waiting to see if I can hear the subtle vibration of your virginous digestive tract, processing green vegetables for the very first time.

I now feel there is a light at the end of the tunnel - a true miracle during this holiday season!

PS. I post this picture below, because it was a novel moment as well. Max protecting you as opposed to pushing all 48 of your buttons simultaneously. May vegetable ingestion and protective sibling relationships abound during this holiday season!

The Evil Eye

2006-11-30T15:01:00.000-08:00

A series of mildly unfortunate events over the last few days, including a runny nose turned hacking cough turned laryngitis, turned me mute today.
As Dave was leaving he debriefed the wee three that I "Lost my voice" which was unfortunate because then Clara cooed to me every 30 minutes or so "Have you found your voice yet Mommy?", which was cute the first 20 times and then not so much.

After Dave left, I could see the kids hovering in the corner for their standard post breakfast conference on how they were going to align forces and trick me into giving them candy and TV access all day. Max came over and said, "So you can't talk at all?". To which I nodded Yes. To which he recorded my affirmative answer mentally (feigning concern in his facial expression and body stance) and went back to advise his underlings of my status. Did I see looks of empathy as they glanced back at me from the corner? No, it was more like a look of victory as if they were certain that, as a result of my inability to talk, all their dreams were going to come true today. Clearly plans for a coup were in place and it was just a matter of time.
When Max got home from school at noon he started sassing about some sort of theory, that if I couldn't answer him when he asked to watch the TV, then that meant it was OK for him to watch TV. Then Clara and Zoe chimed in with "TV TV TV TV TV!"
So as I became increasingly frustrated with my inability to bark out my standard responses to discord, ("1..2...3 timeout"; "Enough!", "Stop fighting!" "You people are driving me crazy!") I brought out the big guns and employed the technology of the EVIL EYE which must have been super evil looking as it restored harmony for nearly 10 minutes and from there on out, we seemed to cycle in and out of harmony, infighting and evil eye dispensements until dave came home at 5:32:05.

And now I'm cranky and weary and must go to sleep...

Adieu

2006-11-15T15:29:00.000-08:00

Despite massive protests by Dave, I did it.
I finally rid myself of the heinous microwave and despite all the evidence that my husband and a parade of scientists would present to the contrary, I know this machine is a metal devil. Do I have a shred of evidence to prove it? No, but I don't need it because I know with all the 10 trillion sentient cells in my body that this machine is problematic.
It can now take it's place in line (single file please) behind my cell phone in the land of misfit radioactive contraptions that we'll "discover" are harmful (oops!) 60 years from now.

What am I most looking forward to? No longer having to clear a 6' radius to avoid electromagnetic seepage everytime Dave heats up his coffee.

Farewell microwave. I'm going to take your pretty picture now... may you soon find yourself swooning in the middle of a big fat bidding war on ebay and bring mamma some money to buy some new postnatal undergarments

Clara over the moon

2006-11-13T18:35:00.000-08:00

Everytime we get in the car now, Clara squeals

"MAMMA! I WANT TO HEAR THE YELLING SONG!" (aka "Aint No Mountain High Enough" by Marvin Gay)

She then proceeds to yell out all the lyrics in between giggles and squeals. I want to always remember the way this song sends her over the moon...

2006-10-26T16:54:00.000-07:00

http://missussmartypants.com/

Time for me to get a WHOLE new wardrobe. According to Missus Smartypants, a beautiful world of garments perfect for my "A" style body awaits! G - your going to LOVE this. Order your own personal profile today!

Tragic moment

2006-10-17T14:08:00.000-07:00

Max came up to me in what appeared to be an innocent way, looking for something to converse about. Seeing that i was involved in computing he said... "Mommy, tell me something that you think I am". I thought he was helping to jump start the conversation, so I said "You are a cherry cherub"

and in a tragic moment that I feared would one day come he said, with GLEE

"I KNOW YOU ARE BUT WHAT AM I!"

... it's 20 minutes later and he's been saying this over and over and over again ever since, now in a sing songy way as if he were the lead in the IKNOWYOUAREBUTWHATAMI Cabaret.

Dam_ kindergarten.

Crafting with poultry shears

2006-10-05T14:11:00.000-07:00

For my wedding I was gifted a delightful set of poultry shears. (forgive me dear reader if you are the one who gifted them to me) I had not used them, even once, for their intended purpose. These Williams Sonoma stainless steel shears seemed too pretty to meet up with flesh and as it turns out, they make for excellent crafting scissors with their serrated, diagonal teeth! I've even cut my own bangs with them, which was unfortunate, primarily because I shouldn't have bangs and secondarily because they are called poultry shears for a reason. This was a regrettable, unfortunate time for me and I wore many a hat to avoid having to explain to people that I made the assumption that poultry shears have transferable skills.

So 2,250 days after these shears were gifted to me, I decided to use them for their intended purpose. It was really just because it was "Crock Pot Thursday" and I had 5 minutes to cube up 1.5 lbs of poultry flesh before racing off to meet our pals at the playground. I realized 2 things in my franticicity - I realized that not only would the shears be more efficient (as opposed to a sawing action with the knife), the contamination would not be nearly as vast as if I cut the poultry flesh with a knife and this was soothing to my obsessive compulsive self.

I have to say. It went quite well. This is excellent technology and I expect to use it with great frequency. No more fancy cuts on the colored paper... no more fancy bang shredding...

Kinks

2006-10-04T18:54:00.000-07:00

Wow.
We're VERY busy these days! Working through various kinks that go along with SCHOOL.
The magical yellow bus still pulls up every single weekday morn and this event has not lost its shine for me. I'm still as excited as I was the very first day. And despite a call home from Max's teacher regarding a certain kiss on the lips that apparently qualified as a "situation", and a couple of meltdowns at school by miss clara, I think we are representing fairly well in the public school system!
However, Im finding this school snack preparation extremely challenging now that 2 of the wee three are in school! Clara with her refusal to eat any food that has ingredients in it, Max with his need for variety and my refusal to buy pre-packaged snacks makes for a challenging situation. In a moment of weakness, I walked down the snack aisle last week at the Big Y to see what my options are and they are aplenty! But then I'd have to deal with the remorse I would feel over purchasing packaging that I can't recycle and I'm not there yet. I probably have about 7 more minimalized packaging all natural snacking days in me before I throw my arms up in the air and hitchike for the nearest Nabisco facility. Then our bento boxes will be inhabited by a sweet little family of bears called "Teddy Grahams" and a family of tasty 100 calorie snacks to be found @ http://www.nabiscoworld.com/100caloriepacks/100cp_varieties.aspx

Namaste.

It makes perfect sense to me

2006-09-14T15:49:00.000-07:00

I work hard. My friend Jennifer works hard. Sometimes we need to engage in daytime activities that are fulfilling to US and so we decided to haul all 5 of our offspring, along with ourselves, into a mini van for a slice of pie. Not just any pie but Sakonet River Pie in Tiverton, Rhode Island.
Only it took us 2 hours to get there - we got lost. And after finally arriving and stepping inside the building we realized that this pie company conducted business in a 8x4 room where I would more expect to find coats hanging than business conducting. To be kind let's call it a "pie foyer" with an elegant pie man standing behind a pie counter with only one peach rasberry pie left. And this pie foyer was wedged, quite tightly in between 2 boutique shops.
So there we stood. 7 people, with a collective age of 95... just having been released from vehicular captivity, 5 of us with restless limbs flailing, conveniently wedged between 2 boutique shops filled with delicate breakables, pristine people and watchful shopkeepers. I looked to my left and locked eyes with owner of boutique #1, a fairly delicate lady with a flower shirt dress, hoop earings and pointy toed shoes. I looked to my right and locked eyes with the owner of boutique #2, a cautious sort dressed in a smart looking pant suit. I looked squarely in front of me, locking eyes with the pie man dressed like Chef Ramsey from Hells Kitchen. The one thing all of these individuals had in common was a look of fear and horror as if we were just about to launch a campain of shock and horror upon them. We were a rather unkempt tribe with wardrobes in various stages of failure (untied shoes, stained garments and a thin film of cream cheese residue from the Dunkin Donuts snack that we had used to help the medicine of a 2 hour car ride go down.)
So we did the only thing we could to bring a manner of peace back into their eyes. Quick as 2 shakes of a lambs tail, Jennifer ran from the building taunting "I'll race you to the nearest mental facility or store with juice boxes, narcotics and more than 50sf of retail space!" (At least that's what I heard in my mind). Sure enough, off the children went leaving me in the pie foyer with the pie man. I purchased the raspberry peach pie and 7 chocolate chip cookies at 2 bucks a pop, which they also sell in Nordstroms by the way. This was top shelf. Curious that they conduct business in a foyer. Curious that they don't indicate on their website that they conduct business in a foyer - important information for optimistic women planning adult friendly playdates. I guess they didn't factor in our scenario when setting up the copy on their website. I'm going to check back tomorrow for any changes, along the lines of: "CAUTION: WE ARE CONDUCTING BUSINESS IN WHAT USED TO BE THE COAT CLOSET BETWEEN 2 BOUTIQUE SHOPS."
After backing slowly out of the building with my pie and cookies, I found Jennifer outside in the pouring rain, playing hide and seek with the children, in the garden behind the building where they set up shops in rooms previously allocated for coats. We carried on in the rain eating cookies, playing and peeing in bushes for about an hour or a day depending on your perspective. Then we brought our sullied, wet selves back to the minivan and came home. Max you were QUITE dissapointed and cried over and over again that 'THIS WAS NOT A PLAYDATE!'. Yes mommy failed you today.

And because I have a chemical imbalance I'd do it all over again.

The pie was THAT good.

For Shannon

2006-09-06T15:39:00.000-07:00

Dearest Shannon,
I love you very much.
I hope you have a good weekend, when it's a weekend.
I hope you have a good vacation, when its a vacation.
And so
I like you because you are very sweet.
I love you very much
From, Max

As dicated by Max for Shannon, his first real crush and girl who saves him a seat on the bus.
p.s. (I love the middle section, almost sounds like a sage proverb. Way to go pal.)
p.s.s. We're not actually going to GIVE this to Shannon as I have concerns that if we did, her Pa would be out on our front stoop with a shotgun toot sweet.

My Butterfly

2006-08-28T17:38:00.000-07:00

"Mommy when I grow up can I be a butterfly?"

Clara, August 2006

Off to school go you!

2006-08-27T09:43:00.000-07:00

Max,
This was you 4 years ago...
I can't believe you are going to Kindergarten in 3 days. Mostly because I can't believe a yellow bus is going to pull up smack dab in front of my house and deliver you unto someone, called a teacher, who is going to care for you for 3 hours a day, 180 days a year! And on Tuesdays and Thursday's from 9:00 a.m to 11:30 am, Clara will be in preschool and it will be just me and Zoe! I'm thinking I'll spend the time with a Shaman in the sacred ritual of Soul Retrieval. It's been a long arduous summer, spent alongside large bodies of water with three children who don't know how to swim. I've lost nearly 180 hours of my life to sunscreen application during which time Clara screamed like I was administering the sunscreen with a patch of #20 sandpaper. Even so, I'm confident my soul is still in there somewhere under the emotional debris and I'm going to spend the fall finding it! It will be for the good of us all so that I can fetch juice and crackers with renewed vigour.
But really, I am thrilled for you. Your brilliant and fun and are showing great potential for theatrics, which makes me proud. You like to use words like venomous & tenacious - my only fear is that you are now entering the school system where people will teach you about things like the rules of grammar and I really can't support that. We'll just leave that facet of your education to Daddy.

It's the begining of something great for you Max, my little Rock Star.
xoxo
Mamma

ps. It really was a great summer... And I really will miss you when you head off on the bus my charming prince...

New 'do

2006-08-13T16:55:00.000-07:00

This site should now be called "R.I.P" due to lack of activity, but there is a detectable pulse in Bedlam - we have news! (News that doesn't involve cutting edge potty training techniques that fail 9 times out of 10) I underwent an arduous makeover! Arduos because it involved me letting go of a 10 year commitment to A-line hair. I've had the same hair for nearly a decade. All one length; part 10 degrees west of cranial midline; laying down flat as any good, neglected, air dried, un-brushed hair would. And if I ever skipped washing my hair for a day, I'd get all sorts of compliments like "Your hair looks great today - it has so much volume!". Really it was just bedhead, but I guess this was a step up from air dried and un-brushed.
Now I've lost 5 inches, (wish it was in my mid-section) have layers, a spring in my follicles and a renewed spirit.
Only now I have a problem. I have to go shopping. This hairstyle is modern, dare I say moderately stylish, so now I have to purchase modern clothes and lip gloss. Now instead of not thinking about my hair or clothes when I wake up, I'm going to have to fire up the curling iron, scavenge for hair products and find appropriate earings for mid-length hair.

This presents a host of problems for me in terms of time management as I'm barely able to manage outfits and matching socks for my offspring. Now that I think of it, they will probably need new hairstyles too, so that we will all match. Until now, we were all rocking the unkempt look rather well.

I'll need to contact my lifeline on the East Side of Somewhere for emotional support as I transtion into my new role as style maven...

Come look!

2006-07-29T18:05:00.000-07:00

www.tinyhandsri.blogspot.com

I co-founded this childrens community service group and have been busy developing that organization and updating our blog.
Starting up our 2nd year running and we'll soon be selling everything from hats to hoodies with our logo on it, thanks to Melissa's brilliant suggestion. So fire up your wallet, Mom. This would be a great way to kiss up to me and the kids...

Darning my darning!

2006-07-24T18:31:00.000-07:00

Since I've already established that I'm walking a fine line between sanity and insanity, I thought I might speak to the intimate relationship I have with language. I'm a complete book junkie and always have some new word I'm loving. At the moment, it's... drumroll please...
DARNING
I can't explain it, I just love the word and I like to use it in sentences wherever possible. And since I'm not totally clear on what it means, and ignorance is bliss, I can use it with great frequency and confidence. I love it because it harkens back to a time, a time so ancient that Hello Kitty and America's Next Top Model didn't exist so what did these people have to live for? Darning. It must have been good! And, Mom don't head straight down to comments and tell me what the real meaning is. Lets keep the mystery alive for a bit more, because really now... where is the mystery in my daily doings?
Hmmm. What's that awful smell? No mystery here... another trip to the changing table.
I wonder.... What's going to happen, daily, at 5pm in Bedlam? No mystery here... I will be tripping over 3 sets of arms and legs flailing, making dirt angels on my kitchen floor as this appears to be the hour of their awakening. The hour when my children collectively decide, that while things have gone fairly well that day, they can no longer bear another moment without their father. And my inability to present him to them, is tantamount to failure. So like the Ppeople Who Know What They Are Doing recommend, I allow them to "have their feelings" while also giving myself the emotional space to decide it's just the right time to grab that pinot noir and pop the cork!

I digress. I can't even remember the first time I became aware of the word, Darning. I once heard someone say that they knew how to darn socks, which sounds charming, but before they went any further I threw my hands up over my ears and asked them to stop right there before revealing the meaning of the word to me.

So now dear reader (hi Mom!) you will see, how precisely miraculous it is that I've remained out and about in society, Darning under the radar with a barren medicine cabinet and not an hour spent behind the padded, welcoming walls of a local mental facility other than my voluntary beat on Bedlam Ave.

And since I'm never quite sure if I'm going to blog another word, I would also like to publicly address, at this time, those (Dave) that have criticized me for my love of Kenny Rogers song, "The Gambler. I'm just sayin' that what this song is really about is a mortal and a sage coming together and feasting on some wisdom, which is what I'm hoping will happen with each homeless or downtroden soul that I happen upon in my travels. A Sage in disguise. Sage, take me away...

Beware Freshwater Enemies!

2006-07-16T16:53:00.000-07:00

Fear not! Max and "Hawgman" are on the scene, side by side; these super-heroes are patrolling our lakes and streams, prepared to do battle against all manner of freshwater dwelling enemy!

Known Enemies: Lochness Monster, "Lake-zilla", miscellaneous dinosaur fish and water serpentry

Special Powers: The ability to leap large bodies of water in a single bound.

A Song, My Life and Where the Twain Might Meet

2006-07-15T16:52:00.000-07:00

While I simple adore my wee three and would circle the earth in shackles if it would ensure their eternal happiness, I could imagine circumstances where I might want to jump on a train to nowhere fast. Circumstances like my inability to keep up with the laundry, circumstances like my inability to cross 2 of my three children over the potty threshold. And if it did happen that I flew the coop, or scoop, I'd imagine that, with a little tweakin, my adventure might be well narrated by Kenny Rogers song, "The Gambler":

"On a warm summer's evenin' on a train bound for nowhere,
I met up with a mother; we were both too tired to sleep.
So we took turns a starin' out the window at the darkness
'Til boredom overtook us, and she began to speak.

She said, "Girl, I've made my life out of readin' people's faces,
And knowin' what their cards were by the way they held their eyes.
so if you don't mind my sayin', I can see you're out of aces.
For a taste of your whiskey I'll give you some advice."

So I handed her my bottle and she drank down my last swallow.
Then she bummed a *cigarette and asked me for a light.
And the night got deathly quiet, and her face lost all expression.
Said, "If you're gonna play the game, girl, ya gotta learn to play it right.

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run..."

*************

Indeed

Disclaimer: *House of Kitty neither condones nor engages in smoking, child abandonment nor whiskey consumption (OK maybe Whiskey Sours on occasion). However she could imagine, especially in the third person, that on the run, anything could happen.

Thanks for the writing prompt over at CHBM

I'm busy right now

2006-07-14T07:19:00.000-07:00

Busy cultivating a sense of peace.
Busy re-inventing myself as Hello Kitty, peaceful warrior.
Busy brewing coffee beans to support me in the process.

Happy 37th Birthday to ME!

2006-07-09T18:13:00.000-07:00

Happy 37th Birthday to ME!

And to ensure this 37th year is super fabulous, despite the fact that I am excessively exposed to the toxic fumes of sibling rivalry; despite the fact that my darling "tenants" consider me to be a slum mum who doesn't provide them with sufficient exposure to ingestible red dye#3, high fructose corn syrup and television; despite all this, I have a new uniform to wear as I navigate through the emotional obstacle course that is my life.

Yes, this romper you see here is my new wardrobe staple, and yes, Dave, I paid 11,800 cents for it but I'm worth every penny! It's a small price to pay for an emotional lift... it's either that or I'm going to click here for my free 4 day trial, secure the children and take the Lunesta Butterfly as my new companion "animal". Then I can "Leave the Rest to Lunesta".

The manufacturer of this garment has advised me that "I'll hop, skip, and jump with abandon in these wide-legged brushed twill coveralls, complete with plenty of pockets and pert tie straps. With tacked cuffs and gathers at the bust for a grown-up touch. Drawstring waist. By Louie. Side zip. Machine wash. Black. 18"l. Imported."

Happy Birthday to ME.

What I would invent if I had the time and some cash

2006-07-06T18:37:00.000-07:00

Picture this:
Pasty executives all across the land, sitting in front of a computer monitor, going about their afternoon routines... ignoring the screams of their burning asses, aching carpal tunnels and twisted spines when suddenly bells begin to chime. The lights dim, fans pump in a nice breeze and a sweet Barry Manilow song pours itself through the speaker system. All the employees smile, open up their shirt collars and sit back because they know... they know it's time for "Desktop Tanning".

Thats right, Desktop Tanning. As the employee transitions into a more peaceful state, their computer monitor shuts down and reboots as a facial/upper torso tanning machine. For 10 solid minutes, whether they partake of the carcinogenic rays or not, everyone is relaxing and rejuvenating under the spell of Copacabana.

You know the song...
"Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl
With yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there
She would merengue and do the cha-cha
And while she tried to be a star, Tony always tended bar
Across a crowded floor, they worked from 8 till 4
They were young and they had each other
Who could ask for more?" (than a desktop tanner!)

And if your loving this idea, have cash and access to the bowels of the scientific community, contact me... I think I'm really on to something here. Actually, I just didn't want to torture my husband with another of my "thought occurences", as I like to call them. They come frequently enough that if I don't start keeping some of them to myself, the rescue team is going to find him slumped over in the corner of our family room, in what appears to be a catatonic state, with a puddle of drool at his feet.

MESSAGE FROM THE EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM, NEW POLICY IN THE HOUSE OF KITTY: TV ALL DAY EVERYDAY

2006-07-05T06:27:00.000-07:00

NOTICE TO ALL TODDLERS AND PRESCHOOLERS UNDER MY CARE: I AM LAYING DOWN ARMS. FOR TODAY, I WILL GIVE IN TO YOUR PLEADINGS AS I DECLARE THAT TODAY IS AN ALL TV ALL DAY DAY.
IF THE CHILD DEVELOPMENT SPECIALISTS ARE CORRECT, I WILL BE FOREVER IMPACTING YOUR ABILITY TO HAVE A PRODUCTIVE FUTURE AND MAKE LOTS OF MONEY TO SUPPORT ME IN MY RETIREMENT:

- OUR FAMILY IQ WILL DECLINE BY 30%. (I guess I'm OK with that as long as you'll be able to get into A college to enjoy the enrichment of a good college keg party. Perhaps you'll even be a champion like your mommy and be able to perform an inverted keg stand for 30 continuous seconds. And if you're a faithful reader (Hi Mom!) and don't know what that means, just know that your hard earned money gained me the respect of my peers!)

- YOUR BRAINS WILL BE OOZING OUT OF YOUR EARS BY 5PM. (Does that mean that you'll be more docile as I brush your teeth before bed?)

- YOU WILL BE DEVOID OF ALL EMOTION, HAVING UNPLUGGED FROM THE CAPACITY TO CONNECT WITH OTHER HUMANS IN YOUR ENVIRONMENT. Could this be THE SOLUTION to sibling rivalry? I know you can all agree on the fact that you want to watch TV all day. I could call this a theory, write a book and make millions. "Television... the SOLUTION" by Hello Kitty

- BY ALLOWING YOU TO WATCH TV I AM CONDITIONING YOU FOR A 7 MINUTE ATTENTION SPAN, which frankly works for me because this might make transitioning from event to event easier as opposed to your pleading to do something ONE MORE TIME or stay FIVE MORE MINUTES.

- TV WILL CULTIVATE AGGRESSIVE BEHAVIOR. So perhaps one of you will become the alpha child once and for all and keep the rest of you in line.

Who am I kidding. I'll probably last five more minutes before my guilt over exposing you to more than 70.5 consecutive minutes of television takes over. I'll race into the room with my Attachment Parenting Shield Of Truth in place, turn off the devil machine and force feed you walnut's and omega 3 fatty acids all afternoon. Then we'll cram in 3 crafts, 2 enrichment stories and a climb up the old maple tree.

Holiday weekend kickoff!

2006-07-02T19:09:00.000-07:00

My Dear Little Cherub Zoe,
Well, we've really kicked off our 4th of July 4-day holiday weekend with a bang!
Friday you came down with a 24 hour virus featuring a 104.5 fever.
Saturday you were cranky (understandably!) and we took it easy. All 5 of us indoor all day easy and then all of us were cranky (understandably!)
Sunday I had the biggest scare of my life to date when you took leave of us at the aquarium. Daddy looked away from you for just a moment and you decided you were going to have a go of it on your own. We located you after about 30 seconds, which felt like 30 days, which felt like 30 days in dog years, or 210 days.

Note to self: Dark aquariums are NOT a great destination for families where children 5 and under outnumber grownups 30 and over.

Only 2,880 minutes left on our holiday... I think I'll spend it in a state of preparedness.

Princess Clara

2006-06-25T18:48:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there was a Princess named Clara who had sparkling blue eyes, big cheeks, curly locks and absolutely no interest in utilizing the princess potty that her mother had spent $37.50 on. She preferred frolicking about, in a bulky diaper, dispensing emotional assertions as if only a finite amount of emotions were available to dispense and she wanted to just get it all over with and live happily ever after in a state of ambivalence.
One time, as a result of a disturbing sequence of events (Her yellow sippy cup was not available and the royal pantry was devoid of beige food products) she asserted for 180 minutes straight and it was a time of sadness for her mother who was already busy mopping up a puddle full of Zoë.
When Princess Clara wasn't dispensing emotional assertions, she could frequently be found singing to her court in a deep raspy voice and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine that she was a teenage runaway belting out "Somewhere over the rainbow" in the corner of a smoky lounge, hiding from her cruel mother.
All of the people living in her kingdom (ok so maybe just her mother) spent their nights praying that the princess would wake up in a happy mood as you could not find a more charming princess then Clara when she was happy. She would curl up in your lap, twirl her finger around her curly locks, and beam up at you in such a way that you might want to put on your dark glasses and wear 50spf sunscreen just to be safe. And she would giggle and exclaim "I really love you" as she tried to perform raspberry kisses on your cheeks, which is logistically impossible to do, when you are giggling, which would make her laugh harder and then she and everyone in her court, would lay out on the floor in a state of bliss wishing that the moment would never end.
LORD HEAR OUR PRAYER.

A Zoë Story

2006-06-18T06:17:00.000-07:00

There once was a Zoë named Zoë and she was little and she loved her binky and mommy and some other people very much. But mostly she loved her binky.
She toddled about her day with her tiny feet balanced precariously in her sisters glitter shoes, which were far too big, as she found the horizontal leverage helpful. Indeed these shoes operated much like a plow in keeping products and services out of her way. Products like matchbox cars and services like mommy's eyelash curlers, which are always strewn about because when things are going poorly mommy finds it quite therapeutic to give her lashes a little lift!
The Zoë would start this shoveling promptly every morning at 5:30 a.m. in the family room and continue on in such a manner until she reached her bedroom, at the back of the house, where she would deposit the mound of products and services in the corner where all the dust bunnies dwell and replicate. As a result of this morning regimen she has developed voluptuous calves and it is a thing of beauty.
And while this was mostly a happy time for her, sometimes the Zoë happened upon something in her way that she was unfamiliar with and she would point and call out, "That sing, that sing!" And her mommy, who followed her about, would answer, even though it was 5:30 A.M. because the Zoë was cute in big glitter shoes with her sleepy face and wing-ed hair. But sometimes the Zoë wouldn't like the answer and would ask the mommy too many times what something was and the mommy would tire of saying the same thing over and over so she would spill herself on the floor in a pool of Zoe and fuss and cry until she forgot about "that sing" and then she would rise and continue on in her Zoë way.

It should also be said that, in addition to her binky, some people and glitter shoes, Zoë loved Raffi very much, which was unfortunate for her mother who loved Nine Inch Nails, BB King and Karen Carpenter equally.

Our Zoë is bigger now and onto bigger adventures like spilling herself all over the floor in bigger pools of Zoë, but her mommy is in the process of undergoing and elective lobotomy via an exceptional bottle of Pinot Noir so she will have to return to the first person to tell some more stories sometime soon.

Dolly held in captivity attempts escape!

2006-06-13T18:31:00.000-07:00

Dolly focuses her eyes keenly on her subjugator, princess Clara and notices that she is actively engaged in a photo shoot. Dolly sees this as an opportunity to escape her nearly 30-day captivity where she has been held against her bitty will, in a reclining position, pinned down under a white blanket. Look closely and you will see that Dolly has managed to squirrel her right hand out from under the blanket. Dolly slowly inches her right hand toward the stroller-retaining arm waiting for the perfect moment to launch herself over the Little Tikes Country Kitchen straight through the window behind her. Dolly knows Clara won't be able to chase her with much speed in her two sizes too big cowgirl boots, plus the black shiny pleather purse, which contains several pounds worth of fake makeup, weights her down.

This photo was taken moments before Dolly's attempt. Unfortunately Clara sensed her prisoners steady gaze and decided abruptly that the photo shoot was over and it was time to take Dolly back to the family room for a picnic lunch where Dolly was spoon fed pretend applesauce and corn fritters.

Fervent Fighting as Sibling Rivalry Reaches Fever Pitch

2006-06-05T10:53:00.000-07:00

Dear little Darlings, especially Max and Clara, (Although Zoë, you've been implicating all 32 inches of your vertical leverage into the situation lately as well!)

Sibling rivalry has reached fever pitch and mommy is on the verge of a psychotic break. It's only 9:52 A.M. right now and I've already exhausted all of my politically correct coping mechanisms, which means that it's time for Mommy Juice only it's really not TIME for mommy juice for another 428 minutes.
I've read "Siblings Without Rivalry", enthusiastically employed their recommendations, and have enjoyed negligible success. Apparently in their research they failed to study families of the order of Willful Uprights. People who would walk the face of the earth in shackles to make a point. My people. I suspect their studies included passive parents, docile children or those lucky families enveloped in the love fog of Attachment Parenting. Sure these families exist. I know them and their parents aren't along side me sweating it at Borders Bookstore when I'm desperately combing the bookshelves for a solution other than DNA replacement therapy.
Even shopping for toys has become a problem. I find myself evaluating whether or not the products face value will be lowered if its pulled apart into three pieces and really now that doesn't leave us with many options other than those tasty pre-segmented tootsie rolls but they don't sell those at Whole Foods Market so we are really up a creek.
If I'm really trying to maintain my position of "Up with Toddlers and Preschoolers" I can say that as you've gone deeper into the trenches of combat, I've gone deeper into the trenches of housecleaning. I guess I turn to cleaning when I can't CONTROL MY CHILDREN because I can CONTROL THE ANT POPULATION by shining my sink with Windex, which smells good, and then all of a sudden I'm confronted with an Inhalant Addiction. Soon I'll be hiding out in the back of the mini van during naptime huffing Windex and then they'll be coming to take me away to a place where I won't have to do our laundry anymore. A place where they dole out soothing narcotics and mommy might not want to come back even after they deem me fit to return to "society". Getting me out of your way may actually be your plan, but I highly doubt that my replacement will be any better! Sure she might feed you a steady stream of candy and bug juice, but soon you'll have ADHD and will be spending your Saturday mornings in the dentists' chair and where's the fun in that?
Clara, I ask you: Who else is going to share your LOVE of Hello Kitty? A love that I have pruned and nurtured over the past 3.45 years like a beloved rose?
Zoë, who on this fine Earth is going to know what you're talking about when you communicate in Zoë speak? And really you only afford a 1-minute interpretation window before you pour yourself all over the floor in despair. "opsickle, opsickle!". Finally, my Max, who's going to sit and listen to your grand plans to launch a COUP D'ETAT against Pable, Uniqua, Austin, Tasha and Tyrone of the BackYardigans with your Lego weaponry? What I really want to say back to you is "Talk is Cheap; their Theme Song is weak; Let's take action!"
But it's really not too late to nip this fighting in the bud. You're going to need each other to corroborate stories in your teens and your going to need me to assist in paying for your College Educations or Psychiatric Counseling, whichever the case may be.
Stop the madness.
Just get along.

SURGEON GENERALS WARNING: MOTHERS LIVING IN ENVIRONMENTS WHERE EXCESSIVE SIBLING RIVALRY EXHISTS ARE AT HIGH RISK FOR INHALANT ADDICTIONS AND ADMITTANCE TO FACILITIES THAT DISPENSE SOOTHING NARCOTICS.

Attention Max, Clara and Zoe! Warning from the Surgeon General!

2006-06-02T17:28:00.000-07:00

********WARNING*******

The Surgeon General has determined that Sibling Rivalry releases noxious toxic gases like Carbon Monoxide into the environment.

The Surgeon General has also determined that quitting Sibling Rivalry now greatly reduces serious risks to your mothers emotional and mental health later.

The new Object of My Affection

2006-05-30T21:45:00.000-07:00

There I stood, unaware that my life was about to change. There I stood chewing my gum down to a nub in a futile attempt to transfer the pain from my head to my teeth as 3 smallish tired children circled around me in the checkout line at the Big Y Market where the slogan is "Welcome to World Class Shopping". I feel their tag line should be: "Welcome to a place where we'll place many toys and candy items at eye level for your children so that they might torture you into spending more money while you wait in unreasonably long lines behind people who buy things that your children yearn for like Honey Combs and snacks containing red dye#6:" but I guess that's a little wordy.
Just when I was about to bark out another command to one of the tired small people, a light shown down from high and Angels sang sweetly o'er the plains as my eyes came into focus on a publication in the land of misfit magazines over the black conveyor belt. I nearly knocked over aforementioned shoppers purple bug juice to get to it! With little more to go on than a crisp cover, I knew with every fiber in my muffin top that this magazine was JUST RIGHT. And Just Right is called "Blueprint... Design your life" by Martha Stewart. Her brand spanking new publication aimed at today's modern (who me?) multi-tasking (uh huh) women aged 25-45 (Just right).
Real Simple has had my true and utter devotion for the last few years but there has always been a little something missing. A little something Martha. And while "Living" is a little too sophisticated for a simple girl like me, currently starring in the the role of "Country Girl", this new magazine "Blueprint...Design your life" is my perfect match.

Preview of articles on Blueprints premier issue cover:
423 SOLUTIONS for better rooms, meals, hair and sleep.
(OK Martha, you had me at 423. 423 solutions! Me, but better in 423 ways! Marvelous!)

SEXY DRESSES that work over time
(I hope overtime means the dress will survive a nite in bed when I'm too tired to snake out of it. A nite that will surely involve 3 small drooling people using aforementioned overtime dress as a pulley system to haul their 20-40 lb bodies into bed with us at 3am. And have I mentioned I don't believe in dry-cleaning?)

THE MACHINE WASHABLE
Living Room
(Please!)

QUICK-PREP dinner party
(And by that I hope they mean 30 minutes or less!)

BONUS BUYING GUIDE - The Sofa Handbook
(I just love the word Bonus... Something that makes the magazine seem worth so much more than the $4.95 I paid for it!)

Gotta run - the new object of my affection calls...

Farewell Real Simple.

YARD-SALE-A-PA-LOOZA

2006-05-26T16:30:00.000-07:00

Days come and go... Diapers are changed, mouths are fed, games are played, baby girls cry while hair clips are secured, but for one glorious day in May each year, I'm "Yard Sale Girl" and people want MY stuff! After all, I've spent my life meandering the planet wanting stuff, it's as delicious as a rhubarb pie to have people paying top penny for my goods and services! Goods like illuminated ceramic angels; services like a a smile and a bag for your products.
I'm talking about YARD-SALE-A-PA-LOOZA!
The night before Yardsaleapalooza I'm like a child on Christmas Eve, I hardly get a lick of sleep, which, frankly, contributes to my sales. My formula for selling success = sleep deptivation + 3 cups of high octane coffee + no breakfast + (1) strong mimosa during the event to combat any electrolyte imbalances. I need a clear head for negotiating after all.
This really is the only morning of the year when I wake up at 6 A.M. raring to go. I have to be ready for an 8am open down at my sister in laws where we participate in a community yard sale every year. I spend from 6-7:30 am packing the van full off stuff, then at 7:30 am I start panicking that I dont' have enough products to sell, so I start racing around the house looking for any loose objects that someone might way to purchase from me. And as I race around I sing what I call, the YARD-SALE-A-PALOOZA song and it goes something like this: "What can I sell (hands up to eyes in the formation of binoculars) What can I sell? What can I sell, sell SELL?!!!" As soon as Dave hears me singing this song (I really do it as a bit of a warning to him, which I feel is only fair) he goes into mode red, racing around mumbling obscenities while he secures and hides all products and services (ie: his coin collection and Flowbee) while I float joyfully in his wake singing my song. He knows I'll sell anything that isn't cast in gold and if its cast in gold, I'll sell it on Ebay for more money. He's really far more sentimental about objects than I am. I guess I'm a little sentimental about my Real Simple Magazines, but to boost sales I'm willing to put them out on the table for .75 cents apiece.
I digress. Once packed up, off I go to meet my fabulous sister in law and her sassy friend Missy with whom I will join forces, drink mimosa's and merchandise product for the people. Most enjoyable items for sale this year at Yard-Sale-A-Pa-Looza':
- Bathroom sink featured in photo. Sold!
- Rusty "in line" bike, called so because you can only go straight - steering wheel is stuck. SOLD (Does free count? There was a fair exchange of a product with intent to sell!)
-Selection of crappy books, including "License to Serve" about good hospitality techniques and "Sustainable Development of Island Communities" Both SOLD. 50cents each to a curious gent. Perhaps he's looking to open up a new hotel in Figi?
-Baby swing with a ½" thick coat of cat hair that I didn't have the time to remove. SOLD - $5.00

Techniques we employ for selling success at YARD-SALE-A-PA-LOOZA:
- Price products about 25% above what you want. For example, when I'm selling a product that I want to get 25 cents for, I'll price the item at 30 cents. I anticipate people will try and talk me down, so with the markup at least I've got some wiggle room.
- Greet shoppers with a smile and if they look hungry, try and sell them a donut.
- If customers are buying multiple items provide them with a plastic bag to take their items away.
- Use professional stickers with prices, including "make offer" as displayed on sink.
- Undergo a careful study study on the manipulation of price point. I just like the way that sounds.

This year, YARD-SALE-A-PA-LOOZA raked in a cool $202.50

Mad props to ma' ladeez.
The ladies of YARD-SALE-A-PA-LOOZA

2006-05-23T18:18:00.000-07:00

www.endofworld.net

Warning this video is PG13 plus, so if expletives, nukes and having a laugh over the end of the world as we know it gets you down skip this post. The LAST thing I want to do is bring you down.

Feeling the Love

2006-05-21T17:02:00.000-07:00

While driving by police station the other day

Max says: "I'm going to be a Policeman when I grow up! I wanted to be an Army Guy before but I'd get killed."

Silence.

then Max (who really is sweet) says: "Hey Clara, why don't you be an army guy?"

Toothless Wonder!

2006-05-21T16:21:00.000-07:00

Max loses first tooth and feels he
needs to open his eyes as widely
as his mouth in order for me to
capture it on film!

Raw poultry wranglin, Dementia and me

2006-05-15T19:35:00.000-07:00

I wonder sometimes if anyone else out there slips into Dementia when cooking chicken and while I generally think my parents did a bang up job of raising me without hang-ups, my mom did spark a couple of neurosis and they are as follows:
1. The daily struggle I have with Mom's advice to allow my children to "have their emotions" when really what I want to do is allow someone to perform an exorcism, especially now that Clara is given to multiple emotional assertions per day.
2. Fear of CROSS CONTAMINATION when cooking poultry

Really number two is the biggie, the biggie that has caused me to consider becoming a born again vegetarian or admitting myself to a mental institution for treatment so that I can come back to my family whole and sane and able to cook Dave's favorite dish, Chicken Parmesan.

In case you are wondering how bad this could really be, consider that what I am about to describe is what I go through when simply sautéing chicken - nothing fancy like breading or marinating - there's not enough memory in cyberspace for me to document what runs through my mind with more complicated poultry procedures.

So here is my story, and I title it: "Raw poultry wranglin, Dementia and me":

First I inspect the packaging, triple checking the "sell by" date for month and year. Then I look for any puffing of the external wrapping that would indicate to me that "gassing" has occurred that would indicate to me that the poultry had gone bad that would indicate to me that my family won't make it through the night if this chicken is what's for dinner. Once I have determined that no gassing has occurred, I score the wrapping with a knife and immediately toss this knife into the dishwasher with my right hand. With my left hand I stab the chicken with a fork and move it to the skillet, careful to not spill any chicken precipitation on the countertop as I make the transfer. (I used to wash the chicken before cooking it, but then I heard some of the roommates on America's Next Top Model saying that this could cause CROSS CONTAMINATION so I stopped that toot sweet!)
Once I have come into direct contact with the raw poultry, I begin to have the distinct sensation that salmonella from the chicken is beginning its single file, migratory path for the space under my fingernails where "they" will dwell and copulate until the skin under my nails turns yellow and falls off. And that's just the beginning of the havoc that I imagine "they" will wreak on my vulnerable body.
Trying to cut the little devils at the pass, I quickly "grab" the dishwashing soap with my uncontaminated forearms, jostle the open nozzle toward my hands and pump the liquid toward my fingers. Next I turn the hot water on with my toe because there's no way the salmonella have crawled down to my toes yet. I proceed to wash my hands under scalding hot water while I sing Happy Birthday to Me two times just like the Nurse on the show "E.R." says to do.

One might think I would relax a little at this point, the point when the meat is now safely in the skillet, in oil, on medium high heat and on its way to a good solid scalding. But no, this is when it really gets tricky. Now I must test and test and test the meat until I see that it's cooked through and wouldn't you know cooked meat even looks a little pink, especially when you are examing it under a bright overhead light! I usually conduct 9-10 tests along the way and each time I do, I send the fork and knife used DIRECTLY to the dishwasher to avoid CROSS CONTAMINATION! God forbid one little salmonella critter escapes onto the test utensils. If I used that same fork/knife to check the chicken later when its actually done, I might re introduce the salmonella and wouldn't that be unfortunate! So I go through about 10 forks and 10 knives in this process which is why God made 10 piece place settings.

So that's it in a nutshell. Gotta run. I forgot to turn the knob on and off 50 times before leaving the kitchen.

My Wee Three, A Collage...

2006-05-14T18:00:00.000-07:00

Top left: Max, 6 months
Top right: Clara, 6 months
Bottom left: Guess who, 3 months
Bottom right: Wee three one year ago...

Mothers Day Wishes from MAX

2006-05-14T06:18:00.000-07:00

So Max takes a running leap into our bed this morning and tells me has something to tell me. A secret.

Max: "Mom, I love you 10 million, one hundred ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen and two thousand!!!"
Me: "OOOOOHHHHH how exciting! I love you too!"
Max: (trying to outdo his previous statement, he utters with some hesitancy in his voice): "Mom I love you MORE than TV!"
Me: Speechless. I know the strength he had to muster up to make this statement, how can I show him I get it?"
"Max, I love you MORE than Hello Kitty laminated in good packaging!"
Max: "WOW"

We look at each other in this knowing way, nodding our heads as if we've really said all that there is to say on a day like Mothers Day...

My secret? The biggest Mothers Day Present I received today was Max NOT saying what he really wanted to say... that he loves me MORE than TV but LESS than guns.
Guns that he fashions out of anything consisting of solid matter.

2006-05-11T16:48:00.000-07:00

For Cheer click here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMH0bHeiRNg&eurl