The Craftypigs

Little Girls

2009-10-27T05:31:00.000-07:00

My son has turned 5. We held him back from going to kindergarten this year as we didn't want him to always be the littlest, the youngest, the kid who's always trying to catch up with the big boys. We wanted him to be one of the big boys. So, consequently, he is now the big boy in my class. Not the awkward kid, just the oldest in the class. I assume that when he gets to kindergarten he will not be the only older boy in class. I'm counting on it.

Anyway, my kid is sweet and cute and everyone loves him. He takes after his Daddy that way. And in my class I have 11 girls and 6 boys. (The drama from that alone is a completely different blog post.) The girls absolutely LOVE my son. While I think it's cute, I am also starting to see a glimpse of the future and my heart breaks for him as I know these girls will become women and they will break his heart, over and over again. But also, mamma bear wants to growl, "Hey! He's mine and you keep your grubby little hands off! He can date when he's 30!" Colin just thinks they're all great and wants to have a good day and keep everyone happy and enjoy his friends - again, he's a lot like his Daddy that way. What Colin hasn't learned yet is that you cannot please everyone and you sure as hell can't please a bunch of women.

Regardless, there are now five little girls who battle for his attention and his affection. Watching Colin juggle them is really something. Someone is always upset with him because Colin isn't playing with them. They are fighting amongst themselves about who is going to marry him (not kidding) and they are pouting and pulling stunts to try to make Colin feel bad or guilty and give one person complete attention. I often feel sorry for him and want to jump in and tell them to leave him alone but so far, he's oblivious to their shenanigans and if one won't play with him, he doesn't care, he'll play with someone who will, including the boys in my class. Whew!

So yesterday morning on the playground, the girls arrive one by one. I try to greet every child and comment on their hair or their dress or ask about their lives in some way. Well one of the girls came dressed in a really cute outfit and I made a comment. Colin happened to be standing with me. He hears me. Then one of the other girls wanted to know if I like her outfit. While I did, it wasn't necessarily worth commenting on. It was just a dress. Colin had the same opinion cuz he started to say "not as much." I interrupted him with a loud, "Of course. Your dress is beautiful too." The first little girl turned and gave me the stink eye." You can't win. Case in point.

But I whispered to my son, "You tell all the girls they look beautiful. Because if you just tell one and not the others, then they're going to be upset with you and your life will be so much easier if you just tell them they all look pretty." He just let that sink in. He didn't really respond. Colin is like me in that he says what he's thinking. He's like his Daddy in that he doesn't ever want to hurt anyone's feelings (tough mental exercise involved right there and this instruction just made it harder.) I know what he was thinking. He's thinking, "I'm supposed to lie?! This will make girls happy?!"

Yep and nope. Welcome to the world of little girls. Beautiful, sweet, manipulative, pouting, crying, dramatic, delightful, angry, yummy little girls. .....Thank God I have a boy.

TV's Weight Problem

2009-06-14T07:42:00.000-07:00

This is a short history of the televisions in our family... suffer through because there's a gem at the end worth waiting for.

When I met JD about 10 years ago, I had a 13" tv with built in VCR that I watched occasionally.

JD had this really heavy 32" Sony that he brought with him to Albuquerque from Nashville.

Then as a single guy he purchased a really cool old Ford Bronco, a Harley, a great stereo system and speakers, and a 60" BIG screen TV, not necessarily in that order. I believe the TV was first. He then put the 32" in his bedroom.

Then we moved to Vegas, got married and we now had three TV's. We kept the little 13" and put it in our bedroom, put the 32" downstairs in the family room and put the 60" upstairs in the bonus room that turned out to be a very cool hang to watch TV. Then we purchased a 26" DVD/VCR combo for the "workout" room.

Then we moved to Dallas. Well once you've taken a 60" rear projection up some stairs as we did in Vegas, you're content to sell it with the house instead of moving it. (another blog that I'll post. Very funny story). So we left it and sold the the 13" and the 32" in a garage sale, we moved with the 26" with the intention to buy a screen and projector.

In Dallas we have more than enough room in our huge house for our little 26" and more. The people we bought the house from had a 60" big screen up stairs that they weren't going to move either so they threw it in with the house too. JD purchases the ever wanted 106" screen with the HD projector to go in the media room - "the cave" we called it. Now peeps, this was the coolest setup theater room I've ever seen. We moved their old 60" into our new workout room, put the 26" downstairs in the family room so you could watch something downstairs without having to go upstairs and fire up the projector and by then we had Colin so he was watching Little Einstein videos and the Wiggles downstairs all the time.

Then we moved to CA. We downsized EVERYTHING! No more projector, no more workout room, so we sold the projector and screen and moved only with the 26" TV. My husband had full intention of buying a plasma TV upon arrival. Well the little house God provided us to live in would only allow room enough for a 52" and JD had to settle. A year later we move to the house we're in now. The first thing JD says when we get here is that our TV is too small. I put my foot down and said, "Suck it up. We're not buying another one." And the way our room is configured, the TV is a little small for the room, but he's dealing with it.

So, yesterday, Colin is watching movies on the "big" TV instead of his tv (the 26" in his playroom). And if you're going to watch a movie you should watch it on the plasma with the very cool speakers. He happens to be lying on the floor in front of the TV, playing with cars at the same time. Eventually, he moves back to the couch with his blanket to snuggle in for the rest of the movie.

He tells me, "Mommy, the TV's lost weight."

"What?"

"The TV's lost weight. Up there it was big, but here it's smaller."

Great! Just what JD needs; our son to validate his need to buy a bigger TV.

And I wonder if there's a direct correlation to the size of your TV and the size of your butt.....hmmmm. If so, mine used to be a tight little 13". ...Key phrase: used to.

Admiration

2009-06-09T20:17:00.000-07:00

This is Dayne. Dayne is almost 14. He babysat Colin, with the help from his parents, as I ran an errand. I couldn't get Colin to get in the car, he had so much fun. Dayne is one of the greatest kids I've ever met. Colin is in good company and has a good example. I'm so very grateful that he has such a person to learn from.

Cozy

2009-06-06T08:08:00.000-07:00

Tumbleweed, my big, fluffy, 14-year-old cat, is no longer spry and tumbley. Instead he's calm, lazy, and low-key. Yesterday we woke up to a wonderful, rare rain storm. Tweeders just wanted a warm, quiet place to sleep. He was a little irritated with me that I disrupted him to get his picture.

I'm Dizzy!

2009-06-05T14:52:00.001-07:00

May 10, 2007

June 3, 2009

When did this happen!? Did someone push the fast as you can go button cuz I don't remember my little boy growing up so fast.

A Punish

2009-06-01T22:10:00.000-07:00

Colin and I were driving home from a little shopping excursion after church on Sunday. While on this excursion, he ate an entire apple, many many gold fish, and some gum I think. By the time we were almost home, I was really hungry and I figured Colin was a little hungry but not starved due to the snackage he had consumed.

As I've mentioned, there's a McDonald's on the way home. We pass by. I had no intention of stopping. We're past the entrance. We turn onto the next street and the following conversation takes place:

Colin: Mom, can we go to McDonald's?

Me: No. We've already passed it. I want to go home.

Colin: You could turn around.

Me: Not today Buddy.

pause pause

Colin: How about this for a punish? If you don't turn around and go back to McDonald's you can't have lunch ever again!

We did not turn around. I did have lunch. Colin ate at home. How about this for a punish, indeed.

A Husband Day

2009-05-30T09:15:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had the rare privilege to spend an entire day with my husband without our child. Don't get me wrong, you know I love me some Colin BUT I do so love my husband with all my heart and rarely get him all to myself.

Ms Tina, my teacher's assistant, has taken the summer off to go home and live with her parents, save some money, come back in the fall for school and work with me. But she came back Thursday for our Pre-K Completion Celebration. She agreed to stay over until Saturday and keep Colin for us (free of charge) all day and night yesterday, subbed for me at work so I could have a day and night with JD. Bless you Tina.

We had such a good time. I introduced JD to a pedicure - of which he needed desperately and he introduced me to Happy Feet (a foot reflexology place), we grocery shopped, we washed the car, we went to lunch, we went to a movie, we shopped The Grove, we sat in a friends' hot tub that were out of town, we made dinner, etc. etc. etc. :) and we had a fantastic wonderful day.

So all you wives, I highly recommend it, go have a Husband Day.

Thank you Husband - it was the best!

From the Jungle to the Ocean

2009-05-25T21:23:00.000-07:00

Turned the Jungle into the Ocean. See the bottom of the boat? It's on the ceiling. See my fishing basket? Yea, it worked. Let the commotion in the ocean begin. I'll let you know how the kids like it.

It Etwa

2009-05-25T18:04:00.000-07:00

For my birthday I went to get a pedicure. I was in dire need of my pedis being cured. BAD shape. The last one had been November. So, I believe that at least once a year, every woman and man should get a pedicure. But in CA where flip flops are worn year-round, you need at least two, if not one a month.

So I go with my dear friend Andi who is treating me to a Celestina Day. She needs a pedi too. We sit. She gets her girl and I get Nicole. I type the following story with much endearment, for she won me over. Typing her accent will be a bit of a challenge but you'll get the idea if you'll just read it aloud with perfect phonetics.

Now, you know how it is, they begin with mostly hand motions. They being the Vietnamese ladies and men who tend to be in a nail salon. They motion you to sit in a chair. They motion you to put your feet in. They motion or touch a foot to come out and be placed in a certain spot. They motion you to change feet. They make a little noise for you to choose if you want your nail clipped or filed. Sometimes you can go an entire pedi without ever having a conversation with your technician. This was not one of those days.

I had decided that I was going to go with a French Pedicure so that it would last a long time. My time for nails is slim to none. I have desire. I don't have time. Hence the six month stent. Anyway, I try to explain as she's making me choose between clipping and filing that one of my nails is really short because I had broken it recently.

Her: It okay, I make.

Me: Okay. But don't clip it anymore.

Her: It okay, I make.

Me: resigning Okay.

She gets my nails all cleaned up and she's very happy. She smiles at me a lot. I know this not because I see her smile, due to the mask, but her eyes crinkle and she tilts her head. Finally she asks me my name.

Her: Wha yoo nam?

Me: Celeste. What's yours?

Her: said at lightning speed: Nico...Li Nico Kima, you no har? Hee Hee Hee

Me: I'm sorry again. (I'm thinking she said her last name but by her tone I'm aware she's asked me a question but I haven't a clue what she asked. And that whatever she said was extremely funny to her)

Her: Nico....lik Nico Kima, you no har? Hee Hee Hee

I desperately look at Andi. She smiles and says, "Nicole Kidman. You know her?" Aa Ha.

Me: Nicole Kidman. Yes, I'm aware of who she is. I've never met her however.

At this point in my pedi, Nicole looks up and asks

Nicole: Yoo wan kalla remov?

Me: Do I need it?

Nicole: O Ya, yoo nee!

Me: Okay.

Nicole: big smile It etwa.

Me: What?

Nicole: bigger smile It etwa.

Again I look to Andi for translation. She smiles and says, "It's extra." At which Nicole rapidly shakes her head up and down.

Me: Oh. It's okay.

Nicole goes and gets the necessary tool to remove the calluses from my heels. I know I'm desperate. I've never done this. Then she brings back what looks like a grinder. Really?!

Nicole works for a long time on my feet. She is no longer smiling under the mask. I'm pretty sure she cussing me out but I can't tell. Finally she's done.

She begins painting my toes. She makes me a nail. Then at the right moment she asks:

Nicole: Yoo wan flawa?

Me: Flower?

Nicole: Ya, yoo wan flawa? I pan yoo flawa.

Me: Okay.

Nicole: It etwa.

Me: Of course it is. It's okay.

Nicole: I pan yoo 2 flawa.

Me: Okay.

She works a long time more. I was glad I wasn't in a hurry. At this point Andi was done. She was just letting her nails dry.

Finally she's all done. She slides on my flip flops. Then she says this:

Nicole: Yoo ah prewee now. Yoo no way six mon moor to cum baa. Twee wee, yoo baa. Oka?

Me: Okay.

It's been almost five weeks. But you know, she did a great job and her paint has lasted. Even if it was etwa.

You Can't Just....

2009-05-22T20:40:00.000-07:00

The art in being a teacher is turning anything that might be trash into something creative while teaching the children at the same time. Giving new definition to: reuse, reduce and recycle. You remember my allotastuff post, well I've caught a full blown stage 5 since becoming a teacher. I can find a use for just about anything given long enough to think about it and having just the right opportunity present itself. Sometimes, I scare myself. I'll write about the garage sale sickness later. Anyway back to current story. So here are a couple of examples of how my new sickness is serving me:

Example One: We were going to do jungle week. It was about three weeks away. I knew it was coming. I wasn't sure what my plans were but I had it in my head to create something fun and new for the kids in the classroom. Then as if the Divine was with me, the day before trash day a few weeks ago I drove home and there were two old silk potted plants sitting by someone's trash. They had elephant plant leaves. PERFECT I thought. I snagged them thinking, "I'm not sure how these are going to work, but I'm going to use them during Jungle Week." Flash forward to this week (jungle week) I haul them to my classroom, tear them apart and create a jungle in the reading area for my kids to explore and enjoy. It was a HIT!!! It had jungle sounds that they could listen to, stuffed and plastic animals endogenous to the jungle, some brown paper, a big plant from the auditorium, four yards of blue material and two yards of green (recycled from the Children's Choir props), and the silk leaves from my side of the road plants as foliage. Even found a place to put Sally, our pink Boa Constrictor. The kids fought over it the first day and argued who had been in the jungle too long and who's turn it was next. They eventually learned how to share and it turned out to be one of my best ideas so far.

Example Two: Always thinking ahead. Next week is Ocean Week. Capitalizing on what I had already started, I was going to create the bottom of the Ocean for next week. I've already got the blue and green material exactly where it will need to go. Just need to build the bottom of the ocean. Again, Wednesday, the day before trash day, Colin and I are driving home. By someone's trash is a great metal basket. Kinda like what you might find balls in at a golf course. I immediately see a fishing basket with a catch inside, hanging from my ceiling as if off the bow of someone's boat that you could see if you were swimming around underwater, in the ocean.

I pull to a stop, back up, and put the car in park. Colin wonders what in the world I'm doing. I explain that I want this basket for our ocean week. I snag the basket, hand it to Colin and drive on home. Colin likes the basket and wants to know if he can keep it after ocean week. Sure. Why not?

Then he says, "But Mom, you can't just go around stealing stuff."

I presented the, "if it's trash, then it's not stealing. They were throwing it away. I saved it. I recycled it. I'll reuse it and reduce the landfill by one little basket. I deserve a medal.

After he thought about that and decided my argument was solid, he asked if we could go back and get the chair that the basket was sitting on. I declined because, you know, you just can't go around stealing stuff.

This is a Dollar?

2009-05-21T19:11:00.000-07:00

Colin and I drove through McDonald's about two weeks ago and I must relay the transaction that took place. I drove away afraid for my child's education and thankful that I'm a teacher and he will know the difference between the coins of the United States of America.

I had 35 cents in change coming. The kid, at the window could've been 14 or 22. I can't tell how hold they are. The older I get, the younger kids look to me. Let's just say he was old enough to know better, or should've known better. He hands me a dime and a Susan B. Anthony silver dollar. I look at it. I know I'm only supposed to be getting 35 cents back so I say,

"You gave me too much."

"I did?" astonished that he could've made such a mistake

"Yes, you gave me a dollar and ten cents. I'm only supposed to get back 35 cents."

"I gave you a quarter and a dime."

"No, you gave me this." I hand it back. "This is a dollar."

"This is a dollar!?" as if he's never seen such a thing.

"Yes, it's a Susan B. Anthony silver dollar, not a quarter."

"Oh." He takes the dollar, gives me a quarter.

Then I think, he doesn't deserve this dollar. I ask,

"Can I have it?"

blank stare

"I mean, can I trade it?" I offer a dollar bill

"Okay" he takes my bill, hands me back the coin.

"Thanks."

I drive away astonished.

WOW!

A Mess

2009-05-17T07:13:00.000-07:00

The last week was one of my busiest all year. The Children's Choir performed their spring musical this weekend. I'm involved, Colin's involved, we're busy! Prep for that was huge. Time for that was emence. Time for all the other things that still had to be done came from my sleeping time. And let's just be honest, a bunch of stuff didn't get done at all - you should see my ironing pile! The inside of the car looked like a nuclear bomb went off. The only reason poor Colin's sheets got changed is because the cat managed to get in there and take a nap causing an Asthma attack. You can write your name on every surface in my house provided you can find the surface, the stuff in the refrigerator is now a science experiment, the toilets are desperate (I live with boys) and, and, and, ....I digress.

Anyway, this was a little nugget from Colin. He's said this before. I don't know, maybe he's right.

We drive through McDonalds on the way to the first program on Friday night. I won't tell you how many other times we had driven through. My poor child. He needed to eat, we needed to go, McDs is on the way, he'll eat it, and I needed Diet Coke bad (back on the sauce people, back on it hard).

So we pull out. I'm trying to drive, open his apple juice, his apple dippers (we do eat some of the healthy stuff too) and pass it back to him while avoiding people who don't know how to drive. And I'm desperate for the first sip of my DC. I always ask for extra ice because I like my drink cold - I want it cold for a long time and I want it cold all the way to the bottom. Well, bless McD's heart, they want me to have every drop of sauce I deserve for my hard earned dollar so they fill it to the rim. My cup overfloweth, no doubt.

I get my cup out, I see a red light coming, I begin to break, I sip, I tip, DC dribbles down my choir shirt, it's cold, it's wet, it's a mess.

"Ahhhhh, Oh for crying out loud! wipe, soak, wipe, break, stop, breath, sip again and again and once again ...Colin, your Mommy's a mess. Do you know this? Your Mommy's a mess!"

With his little mouth full of apples he responds, "God shoudda made you a boy."

Salt Licked

2009-05-15T06:27:00.001-07:00

In memory:

Salt was put to sleep by a very sweet vet who had sympathy for her inability to be a good mother, her blindness, neurological problems, paralyzed left side, and starvation.

May she rest in peace.

Side note: the kids have almost forgotten Salt existed. I don't have to change the cage as often. Scissors has started being nicer. And the birds moved to the two-year-old room. Things have calmed considerably in the classroom pet department. Ahhhhhhh.

Daddy will never....

2009-05-05T16:09:00.001-07:00

So I'm always telling Colin that I have eyes in the back of my head. He thinks I'm crazy but has enough curiosity and evidence of my "eyes" that he doesn't down right defy them.

One day my boss told Colin, "Your mom has eyes in the back of her head. Don't you know that?" You should've seen the look on his face. Since then, my eyes, have even more intrigue to him. (Thanks Mia).

Today we're shopping in a store. Colin says, "Mom, kids have eyes in the side of their heads."

I said, "No buddy. Kids just have two eyes. You have to be a grown up to have extra eyes in your head. And even more than that, you have to be a MOM!"

pause / thinking

"Daddy will never be a Mom."

I couldn't have said it better if I tried.

Kissing for Days

2009-05-04T17:25:00.000-07:00

Colin: Can I watch the DVD player?

Me: For a kiss

Colin: Okay.

kiss

Colin: You can have thirty thousand kisses.

Me: Cool, thanks!

pause

Colin: If you got that many, we'd be kissing for days!

To Face or Not To Face?

2009-04-28T06:36:00.000-07:00

So, I have these friends who do this thing called Face Book. Yeah, I know, it's most of you people. I have many of you friends who wonder what's with Celeste and that she doesn't Face? Honestly, I'm literally afraid of it. I'm so afraid of it, I haven't even ventured out to see what's involved.

I hear things like this:

So, this person, whom I've not heard from in 25 years found me on Face Book!

So and so, friended me on Face Book (said with disgust)

I spent 3 hours on Face Book yesterday

I haven't caught up on Face Book in ages

Why aren't you on Face Book

I tried to find you on Face Book

I tried to friend you on Face Book

You find all kinds of people on Face Book (I don't want to find people)

It keeps you in touch with everyone!

UGGGG - I don't want people "finding" me! What if I don't want to be found?!

The truth is, I like being a missing person. But when my oldest friend told me she knows more about my sister than me because of Face Book I was a little peeved and somewhat jealous and now I'm thinking that maybe Face isn't so bad and I was wondering what you guys think.....

Also, keeping up with the blog is hard enough, who has time for Facing!?

I'm feeling like it's going to be a slap in the face - no really!

On Purpose

2009-04-26T11:39:00.000-07:00

Coin: When you do something mean to me, you do it on purpose.

Me: What?

Colin: When you do something mean to me, you do it on purpose. (He's referring to discipline)

Me: I also love you on purpose.

Colin: Okay. That's good.

Oh Crap!

2009-04-26T10:46:00.000-07:00

(The names of the children have been left out to protect the innocent and the guilty)

For the most part, handling the kids' pre-school issues are normal Mommy / Teacher behavior. However, there are certain times that stuff goes down and you wish for a little more education, intuition, common sense, psyche classes, and without question, the miracle of forgetfulness for the children.

On Friday, right as lunch was about over I started the "Potty Train" where all the kids go potty before nap time. The first one in line was a beautiful and very compliant little girl. She starts the potty train by stating that she needs to go. I send her in. She returns, finishes lunch, excuses herself. I have done 1000 more things since then and remember that I'm supposed to sending kids to pee. I send a little boy who's been done with lunch. He goes in and immediately comes back out.

Teacher, there's poop in here.

We'll insert name pee on top of it and then flush it all.

But Teacher, the poop is on the floor!

WHAT!? I round the corner and see that indeed there is poop on the floor in front of the potty, kind of smeared but not exactly, it's fresh and it stinks.

Of course by now, many of the students have to look, see, comment. This is making the whole situation worse. I have to do something right now or this will be a worse disaster than it already is.

Now, you be me. What to do next?! I considered all sorts of things. One to clean it up myself, move on and get the potty train done. I considered going into the room and announcing that someone needs to finish the job. I considered going home and not dealing with it at all. Truth be told, this was the most favorable option but clearly not a viable one.

I send my tattle-tail out of the bathroom and I go out and survey the classroom. I'm thinking who was the last kid in there that I'm aware of? Then it dawns on me. The sweet little girl mentioned above is my first deduction. I call her over to me. Now, side note on this child. She literally melts if she's in trouble for the littlest thing, hence she is rarely in trouble with anyone. Before she ever gets to me I see it fear and shame on her face. I realize that probably she is my guilty party. Now I know enough about her to know she would NEVER do such a thing on purpose. In fact she is so good that she wouldn't even be able to think it up. So I ask.

Insert name I need the truth. Was it you? Please just tell me the truth.

She nods yes.

Okay. Now what?

I decide that she needs to help me clean it up and that way we can talk about it and find out what happened. She's crying. Tears are rolling down her cheeks one after the other as I put gloves on her hands and mine.

We go to the bathroom. I show her how to clean it up. I help. She cries. We finish. Then I say the following.

Here's what I think happened. I think when you stood up and wiped, the poop hadn't fallen off into the potty yet. As you wiped, it fell to the floor instead. So here's my question. Did you know that the poop was on the floor when you left the bathroom?

She nods yes.

Okay. In the future, if you ever have any kind of problem, please will you come get me? All you have to do is say, "Ms Celeste, I need your help. Can you come please?" And I'll come help and we will fix it, whatever it is. Also, that way, no one has to know anything except you and me. Okay?

Okay.

I hug her and tell her it's okay. She didn't mean to and we're just going to forget all about it. (praying for that miracle of forgetfulness).

She recovers, the class minds their manners and doesn't tease her or mention it again (I was astonished at that and so very grateful). I later had to tell her mother what happened so if her daughter mentioned something about it, she had the whole story. Her mother was horrified for her and wanted to just cry for her. I did too. But I told her the class didn't tease her and she recovered from the incident.

What a day! Seriously, this wasn't in my orientation for becoming a Preschool Teacher.

Been Found Out!

2009-04-16T19:47:00.000-07:00

Colin says to me yesterday, "Mom, you're just filled with jokes."

translation.....

"Mom, you're full of it."

.....I know that. JD definitely knows that, I just didn't think Colin would figure that out so soon.

The Price Is Right

2009-04-10T11:51:00.001-07:00

Colin and I were off school today. He discovered "The Price Is Right". While sitting in a trance he said, "Mom, I love this show on the big TV".

Me too!

Perhaps we should TiVo it. At the very least, he'll learn large numbers and some shopping tips.

Sweet Talk

2009-04-09T06:07:00.000-07:00

Colin: Mom, you know what sweet talk is?

I have a guess but I can't wait to hear what he thinks it is

Me: No, what is it?

Colin: It's when you pull the antennas off the ants. That's sweet talk."

Dying inside!!!! Especially since they're also called "feelers".

P-Parties

2009-04-08T20:33:00.000-07:00

I have 10 boys in my classroom. They often go to the restroom in pairs. One is supposed to pee and the other should be washing hands. Way too many times a P-Party (penis party) is taking place. Boys being boys and in truth it is hilarious. But as the teacher I'm not allowed to find humor in it, but instead must teach them that P-Parties shouldn't happen, especially in the classroom.

So last Friday, it was finally nap time and I was supposed to mop and clean the bathroom and classroom floor. I went in the bathroom to discover the remains of a major P-Party that had taken place. The top of the trash can lid was upside down thus creating a bowl like situation. In the bowl was pee, on the floor was pee, on the wall was pee. REALLY!!??? What the crap?! I mean PEE! Disgusting. You're laughing. I know you are and I get it. I would've laughed too, had I not been on the clean up crew that day.

Birds!

2009-04-07T20:24:00.001-07:00

JD and Colin and I were sitting outside at Golden Spoon. GS is this wonderful frozen yogurt place that we should buy stock in. Anyway, as we were sitting there enjoying our treat a bird flew overhead and sent down a gift to splat on our table. It took several seconds for us to register what just took place. Colin finally broke the silence.

Colin: What is that?

Me: Bird poop.

Colin: Where did it come from?

JD: A bird pooped.

Colin: On the table?!

Me: It pooped as it flew over. Be glad it didn't land our our heads.

Colin: That's what birds do? ...They just poop! ....Anywhere they want?!

Me: Yep, that's what birds do.

The next day or so Colin reviews that with me. "Mom, remember that bird that just pooped on the table at Golden Spoon?" "Yes. I remember." Then he says as he shakes his head back and forth in disbelief, "Birds!"

By the way, the birds are back in our classroom. Only not Rocket. Apparently, the little kids knocked over the cage while it was outside and Rocket flew the coop. So now we have Patrick and Ricky. Who names these birds!?

With 2 hamsters, 2 birds, 23 kids and a turtle I'm going to change my title to zoo-keeper.

Contacting

2009-04-07T18:06:00.000-07:00

Colin: as he is aiming his Star Wars gun with the laser light You know what I'm doing Mom as I move my gun around?

Me: What?

Colin: Contacting.

Me: What's contacting?

Colin: That's when I shoot everything I see except people. That's contacting.

Um, yeah, the cat was contacted.

Bye Bye Floppers

2009-04-04T21:33:00.000-07:00

I don't think I mentioned that Colin named the spider "Floppers". Anyway, I saw that she was looking lethargic and thought we should let her go. This was Thursday evening. I told Colin it was time to let her go. He emphatically said, "No."

Friday morning I looked for her in the jar. Took me a long time to find her. Thought she was dead. Finally she peaked out and walked around. I was relieved. Again I told Colin we needed to let her go. He didn't want to. I told him that if we don't she will die in the jar. He didn't want her to die and he didn't want her to go. I told him that he really needed to think about it and hopefully she would still be alive when we got home from school.

Friday afternoon we found her in the jar. She didn't look good at all. Finally Colin said we should let her go. We did. She was happy to be out of the jar.

Later that night in bed he said, "I'm gonna miss Floppers." "Me too. You did a good thing letting her go. I didn't want her to die." "Me either." Then in the dark, I saw Colin wipe a tear away.

I don't know, maybe it's cuz we're reading Charlotte's Web in school or what, but just like Wilbur, we found something beautiful in our spider and we were sad to see her go. Colin was especially sad. It was a sweet moment.

A Banker

2009-04-01T20:55:00.001-07:00

Hanging in Colin's classroom is a life-size outline drawing of him. Next to it was the word "Banker". This is what my son, apparently, wants to be when he grows up.

So I asked him, "What happened to being a race car driver or a baseball player?" The last time we discussed his options, those were the top two choices. And this was his response....

"Well... when I'm 70, I'm gonna be a race car driver."

"Come In" said the Spider to the Fly

2009-03-29T14:58:00.001-07:00

This coming week we (the Pre-K class) are going to study Insects and Spiders. I've been thinking about them, planning for them, reading stories about them etc. as I get my lessons together.

Then yesterday we decided to give the garage a spring cleaning. While doing that there was a spider trapped in a storage bin. I decided that this would be a perfect opportunity to watch our subject a little closer. So I created a habitat for our spider.

Later, I told Colin that we will have to be in charge of finding our spider's food since she's trapped for our pleasure. So he's been on the lookout for bugs. Last night we found a little flying thing. I caught it, dropped it in. This morning we couldn't find the little bug. Just the spider.

Then later this morning, Colin called me into his play room. Said there was a big fly. I swatted it, trying not to kill it but just stun it. I think I killed it but didn't squash. I decided to drop the fly into the web and see if our spider would "bite" even though she didn't get the kill.

Just now, we watched her devour her gift. It was absolutely awesome! Since then we've added another (live) meal. While she was eating, we shot a couple of pictures.

I love that we got to see her in action. And can I say a picture of a bug through a canning jar is a really cool pic?

I love my job! It makes me a better mom.

The Chick Race

2009-03-29T13:02:00.000-07:00

What do you get when you combine Speed Racer collector cars, spring chicks and a four-year-old boy?

A Speedy Chick Race of course.

Little Einsteins

2009-03-28T09:08:00.000-07:00

Colin knows cello from Little Einsteins peeps.... Little Einsteins. It was his favorite TV show for over a year. We have every episode on TiVo. There's one about a cello. He learned. And around the same time, we reinforced with a live concert DVD where the band Styx is playing with a youth orchestra. As the camera scanned the kids playing, we talked about the instruments they played. He knows that a violin and a cello are related. One is bigger and lower than the other. He can name a bunch of other instruments as well. Kinda cool.

Little sponges. They absorb everything.

If you've got a toddler to 3 1/2 year old - they'll LOVE Little Einsteins. I highly recommend it.

The Cello Vitamin

2009-03-26T19:41:00.000-07:00

My son has been taking Flinstones vitamins for a long time. For the same length of time he has called them "Cello Vitamins". I don't know why. I never asked. You know how your kids name things and you just roll with it cuz it's cute.

Well tonight, he reminds me, "Don't forget the Cello vitamin." I don't, I set it in front of him on the side of the bathtub (we always take them at bath-time, so we don't forget). He looks at it. Really looks at it and then says, "These aren't violins. These are people." I said, "I know, they're the Flinstones." He said, "The what?" "The Flinstones." pause for crinkle in forehead "Who are they?"

sigh.....

Two sad things:

1. He won't call them cello vitamins any more.

2. He has no idea who the Flinstones are because they are OLD like me.

If God Had Made You A Boy....

2009-03-26T05:45:00.000-07:00

"Mom, If God had made you a boy, Dad would be 44 and you would be 41 and you raced, you would win because the youngest is the fastest. Pause But He didn't, He made you a girl."

Sigh

#4 Accomplished

2009-03-19T19:43:00.001-07:00

Found it.

Rule number six: look under the big table, over by where the cat's water and food used to be, almost under the china hutch.

# 4

2009-03-17T19:22:00.000-07:00

From the bathtub: "Mom, find my other black spiderman." (the latest crap from McDs)

"I don't know where it is. "

"Go look for it."

"Where?"

"Look in these places:

Number one, on the desk

Number two, on the table

Number three, under the piano

And number four, find it!"

wanted to say, go find your own damn spiderman. I go look in the places instructed. I find nothing and decide that was funny and start a blog post about it.

from the bathtub:

"Mom, did you find it?"

"No"

"Did you look in all the spots?"

"Yes"

"It's not there?"

"No."

"Then you need rule number 5." (now we've gone from places to rules)

"Where?"

"Come here to me. I can't tell you rule number 5 if you're in there."

I go

"Yes?"

"Rule number 5 is to look in the kitchen, by the desk, go straight, then at the other desk, on the right side. "

"Okay."

"MOM!"

"What?"

"If you don't find it there come back and I'll keep giving you clues until you find it. "

The child has all the spiderman creatures in the bathtub except the one we're hunting for. And we....well we obviously don't know where the hell it is. And one of us doesn't care.

He sends me to the car to look for it there. I go. I know! He's in the tub but I go. I look. I fail. I return. He gives me a "whatever" sigh and says, "Can I get out now?"

"You betcha."

The Hard Spot

2009-03-12T19:42:00.001-07:00

Colin came to me at the playground this morning after he had been playing football in the grassy area with the other boys. He comes over to me with his butt poking out a little and he's got ahold of one side of his pants. He says, "Mom, you shouldn't have bought these pants." I ask, "Why not?" knowing he's worn them over and over and never had a complaint thus far. He says, "Because they have a hard spot here." pointing to his clutched back pocket. I reach down and feel around for this "hard spot" and feel where the carpenter pocket connects to the back pocket thinking that maybe this is what he's talking about and then I feel it. Sure enough, there is a hard spot. I reach in his pocket and find a rock. Pulling it out, I said, "Is this the hard spot you're talking about?" He feels his pants again and with great satisfaction runs off saying, "Yeah!" I holler, "Where did the rock come from?" He hollers back, "I found it!"

BOYS!

God Shouldda....

2009-03-10T07:14:00.000-07:00

While peeing Colin says to me, "Mom, God shouldda made you a boy." I asked, "Why?" "So you could stand up!" he retorts as he shakes the dew off his lilly.

Deep down, I wanted to prove to that boy that I could pee standing up if I had to. But I refrained.

The Spring Forward Rule

2009-03-08T13:25:00.000-07:00

Years ago my husband installed a new rule at our house on Spring Forward Time Change Weekend. My husband goes to work on Sunday mornings. He's a Worship Arts Pastor. This is a big deal to get up early, much less one hour earlier than he's used to. He doesn't like time change weekend in the spring. Honestly, who does.

Anyway, three maybe four years ago, I changed our clocks. Then I forgot I had changed our clocks and I changed our bedroom clock again. Yep, the poor man got up TWO hours earlier than normal. And I think that on that particular weekend it might even have been Easter which means there might have been an "early" service! But whatever the circumstances I remember my husband very very very unhappy with me that he got up at 3AM by normal standards, by the new time 4AM, but he really could've slept one more hour which meant he would've got up at 5AM, which is what our bedroom clock now read. Something like that. Either way, my name was mud for a long time.

The Rule? JD either sets the clocks himself or we set them together. Can you blame him? I don't.

We also have two clocks now in our bed/bath. One digital (easy to screw up) and one that runs on battery that's a face clock. Much more difficult to screw up. This way there's a check and balance for me and him.

I still feel bad. Every year I'm reminded. Sorry husband.

The Note

2009-03-06T06:20:00.000-08:00

JD went to an Elder's Retreat this weekend. He left last night and will be back on Saturday sometime, probably just in time to go to work. Anyway, we saw him here and there on Thursday but our goodbyes were hurried and half-assed. I thought about it and prayed for his safe return so I would have the chance to give him a proper hello.

So, as I'm thinking about this, a thought of a note crossed my mind. That in the future, if he's going that maybe I should include a note. I've done this in the past but it's been awhile. That way he would have a little something while he's gone and he would know how much he's loved and missed.

Well last night as I was getting Colin in bed I noticed something on Colin's pillow. It was a note. It was to both of us and it included all the right things. The perfect note. It said hello, that he'll miss us, that he loves us and that he can't wait to get back to us and that we are the best things in his life. To me that was so perfect. I felt better now about the goodbye.

Colin and I read the note together. He asked if I would read it again. Then he wanted to keep the note with him as he slept. I suggested we put it under his pillow. He didn't like that idea because it might fall behind the bed. I suggested we tuck it in his pillow case. He liked that idea. We did. Then as I was about to turn the light off he said. "Daddy left a note." I said, "Yea, it was nice huh?" "Yea." We talked about several things and then he nestled in to sleep. The last thing he said was, "Dad wrote me a note."

Well done JD. Thank you for sharing your love with us.

Leave notes. Write them in your own handwriting (no computers) and include all the right things. They make a difference.

MOM! You made me.....

2009-03-04T15:44:00.000-08:00

Is it just my kid or do all kids do this around this age? Colin has started blaming me for everything that isn't exactly like he thinks it should be. His favorite line is "Mom, you almost made me...." or "Mom, you made me...." fill in the blank. Here are some classic examples of late, like the last 24 hours:

In the bathtub, I turn him around to finish washing him and he steps on one of his toys in the bathtub. "Mom! You made me hurt my foot."

While helping him get dressed on the bed he loses his balance cuz it's bouncy. I actually catch the child from falling and he says, "Mom! You almost made me fall."

On the way to the car, it's raining. We get in the car as I'm helping him buckle his seat belt, the door is open, the door is getting wet (so am I btw). I close the door, get in and he says, "Mom, look at this, you made the door wet."

I could be in another room and I'm sure it would be my fault that something happened or almost happened. I'm completely fed up with it. After the little rain comment. I turned around and said with force. "Colin, I did not make anything wet. It's raining outside for crying out loud. The rain coming out of the sky is not my doing. I had nothing to do with the door being wet. But here's what I did do. I got you up this morning. I made sure you wore clothes appropriate for today's weather. I put a jacket on your head so you wouldn't get wet. I made your lunch today so you wouldn't go hungry. I'm taking you to school so you can learn something and be intelligent. I'm going to help you all day. That's what I will do and make happen. Learn the difference before you drive me crazy!" .....

hmmm, wonder where he gets it?

Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss

2009-03-02T17:41:00.000-08:00

Today is Dr. Suess's birthday. We celebrated at school with green eggs and ham. The kids ate them and they liked them. They liked green eggs and ham. They liked them Sam I am.

The Cat in the Hat is 50.

Salt

2009-03-02T17:40:00.001-08:00

Picked up Salt today to check on her. She's really skinny and now I'm thinking she's not only lame but blind. Can't take much more people. What to do..... what to do?

The Hamicide part 2

2009-02-28T08:38:00.000-08:00

Last week in my class was Where The Wild Things Are. We did many many projects on wild animals. Little did we know that inside our room were a couple of wild animals that would provide a lesson perfect to the week's curriculum.

Salt and Scissors were much quieter since Pepper's death. (please read part one). I guess now we know who was causing all the trouble. The two remaining hamsters seemed to be friends. All was going well and because of that, my affinity for them began to grow. To the point that I decided to go to the pet store and get a little education and necessities for the little creatures.

I go to the pet store on Monday afternoon. The pet store was like any other. Full of CRAP you don't need but you would buy because you don't know better. Luckily, I had most of what the hamsters needed. What I knew they needed was the proper liner of the bottom of their cage. I didn't know what it was but I knew hay wasn't it. I knew wood shavings wasn't it either (this is what I had to work with in the classroom) I got the recycled newsprint stuff and kudos to the lady who sold it to me, it's perfect! She also gladly sold me new food, wood things for them to chew on, and a house to hide in (a nest). I was good with all this as I knew the hamsters needed it. Besides I was going to turn in the receipt so I was more liberal with my spending. It's for the hamsters.... right!?

So on Tuesday, I'm so excited to share the new goods with the little guys. I put Scissors in its ball and it's happy to be loose, so to speak and I put Salt in one too but since the leg is lame, it doesn't roll anywhere. I clean the cage, add the new stuff and put them back and watch as they examine the new things. Right away Scissors goes to work on the nest, pulling out the stuffing, gnawing at it here and there and began making it home. I give kudos again to the sales lady who obviously didn't just talk me into something I really didn't need.

On Wednesday the two hamsters are happy as clams. Salt is looking a little weak. As I said, it is fat and lame so I'm praying it will die soon. Regardless of my prayers, it is hanging on. Scissors seems pleased with all the changes.

On Thursday I come in and decide to bring the cage down to the children's level. It stays up and out of reach during class time so they (the kids and the animals) are not overwhelmed with excitement. As I bring the cage down, the kids gather round. They are excited to see them up close. I peer in and notice that both hamsters are up in the apartment on top. I peer closer. I notice something that doesn't look normal. I'm thinking to myself that maybe one of them is sick. It doesn't look like throw up, it looks more like intestines. I ask the kids if I can get closer. When I get really close, the thing I'm staring at moves. ..... OH CRAP! What the hell is that?!!

I keep my cool and never let the kids know I'm freaking out. As I widen my view and take in the whole scene and see that we have baby hamsters. WE HAVE BABIES~! I realize that the thing I first saw was the last birth still in its sack. Then I survey the situation. One of the babies is bleeding because it's missing a leg and the other is not looking so good, I look at Salt and it is pushing something around, I count another baby and this one is covered in wet mucus stuff, I look at Scissors and it is chewing on something, another baby and this one is bleeding from its head. 5 Babies. Two already chewed on, one normal, one still in the sack, one being cleaned or moved around by the mother? I look at Salt. Sure enough that girl has lost some weight. She's all skinny now. I look at Salt, who is now having a hay-day torturing the infant.

Can I just say, my state of "freaking out" is a little out of control? I'm desperately trying to think of what to do next. I know that if Scissors stays in there, it will kill them all. But before I save any babies, I run over to Ms D's room and let her know that we have babies. I tease her, no wonder she wanted to pawn them off. She claimed complete ignorance and started freaking out, out loud. I sent her away. I call my director, Ms M. who is at home trying to get ready. She says she'll be right there. In the meantime, I go find Ms B who is wise and has had many many pets in her life including rodents. She comes in and surveys the situation.

I love a calm person in a crisis. I love these people. She says, "Get that one out of there. If that's the Daddy, it will kill them all. Give me a Kleenex so I can get rid of the ones they've wounded. Then she said, see if the mother will do what she's supposed to. She warns us that she probably won't

Now, you have to remember that I have about 8 children watching this go down. 8 children who have never seen a death right before their eyes. 8 children and a teacher who have never seen hamsters give birth. I decide that this must become a teaching lesson and I need to get control. I explain what has happened. They love to look at the new babies. "What happened to the other three Ms Celeste?" "They didn't make it." "But what happened?" "They died." "Why?" "The mother or father didn't want them so they killed them?" "Why?" "I don't know exactly. Maybe they didn't know what to do with them." "Oh.... will they kill the other two?" "That's an excellent question. We'll have to wait and see." "I hope the mother loves them and nurses them?" (this is a very smart little kid) "Me too." "What will we do with the Daddy?" "That's another excellent question. We can't put him back in there can we?" "NO! He's not nice to the babies." "What do you think we should do?" "He needs another cage." "Excellent idea." I look around and see our old bird cage. I think that will work until we figure out what to do. Scissors gets a temporary home in the bird cage. Comical at best.

Mind you, many many more children have come in with their parent. The kids have been retelling the story. The parents and kids have been peering into the cage. I've moved the Mamma and the two little babies into the nest and we're waiting to see if she'll take to them or kill them. For an hour and a half nothing has happened in our class but the hysteria of hamsters, birth, death, separation, and hope. What a great lesson in Wild Animal Week.

As we go outside, I tell the kids to be prepared that when we come back we might not have any more babies left. They seem okay with this. Some are hopeful. Some don't understand. Some don't care. They're tired of this lesson and just want to go outside.

As I feared, there were no more babies alive when we get back. Salt killed them both. I guess she knew that with a bum leg, she wasn't fit to be a mother. We also took Scissors to Ms B to examine and see if indeed we had a male. She let us know we DID NOT! So guess who was the daddy folks? You got it. Pepper. And all that noise we heard..... yeah, much rape and pillaging going on in that cage. Finally the girls got tired of it, murdered the man, killed the babies and are living happily ever after in a cage that's quiet and calm.

I fear, deep down, that we have another litter on the way..... Does anyone know the gestation period for hamsters?

The Hamicide part 1

2009-02-27T07:53:00.000-08:00

I'm a Preschool Pre-K teacher. I have a room FULL of 4.5 and 5 year olds. They are wonderful. Individually they are just amazing and so cute most of the time. Together they are still amazing, not so cute and a challenge that I enjoy taking on each day. There isn't a day that doesn't go by that I couldn't put some blurb on my blog but I don't know if you guys would care and so I don't. I guess you could vote. Anyway, occasionally, something happens that demands to be retold. It's stranger than fiction. I can't make this stuff up people, even if I try.....

When I first began my job the last week of October, 2008 I had 15 kids and 1 bird. I've never had a bird. I don't know a thing about birds. I don't dislike birds but I wouldn't choose one as a pet. Regardless, I now had a bird, was responsible for this bird and needed to at least give it a chance. His name is Rocket. It took me about a month to like Rocket and Rocket's mess. BIRDS ARE MESSY!!!! Feathers, food and poop are everywhere all the time and they come with an odor no matter how clean the cage is. But I have to admit that by the end of November, I liked Rocket and didn't mind cleaning up after him. He loved to hear a story. Whenever I read aloud to the kids he would sing and sing and sing. This was my connection to the bird. Rocket, the bird who will sing while you read him a story.

Each class has a pet. I had Rocket, there was another bird named Patrick, there were four hamsters, some fish and a turtle. There might be more, but since I'm not responsible, I'm a little out of the loop. Anyway, over Christmas all these pets had to have a temporary home. Someone decided to take Rocket and Patrick. A bird lover came in and told us that these particular birds like to have company. So since the kids wouldn't be around, we decided that the two birds should go home together so they at least have each other while they missed the kids.

When the birds came back they were very VERY attached to each other so we let them stay together. I now no longer had a bird, just an empty cage. It was bitter sweet. I was happy to not have to clean up after the bird or worry for the bird but I missed his singing and so did the kids. They asked about Rocket often. I told them he wasn't gone, just moved. Of course they wanted to know when we would get another bird. I didn't know. I didn't care. I had grown close to Rocket but as for other birds, they could be set free for all I cared.

Skip ahead one month. For the month of Jan we had no pets. We got over Rocket and moved on. Then one day, Ms D came in bearing a hamster cage. With her eyes set just right and her voice with just the right amount of plead, she asked if I would take these off her hands. Apparently, they make too much noise and wake up the children during nap time. We don't nap in my room so it seems logical that they could live in here. I peered into the cage. THREE hamsters lived in there. It looked crowded. It smelled bad. Let me just say that I must have had a good prayer time that morning because the tiny ounce of mercy in me said, "Ok."

Now, as much as I don't care about birds; I really don't care about hamsters or rodents. I'm a cat lover remember? I see toys for Tumbleweed when I look into the cage. And as little as I know about caring for a bird I know less about caring for a hamster, especially three hamsters. Their names were Salt (white), Pepper (black) and Scissors (tan). Yippie!

I find the other teacher who has a hamster in her room. I get a basic care guide from her and one other teacher. Within hours of having them, I set to cleaning the cage and try to get the smell down to something tolerable. I put the hamsters in their balls so they can roll around. The kids LOVE them immediately. It's their joy that really commits me. Fine. I learned how to care for a bird and I even liked the bird, surely the same will happen with the hamsters. I just have to give them a chance.

Ms D was right about the noise. These guys were fighting, biting and picking on each other constantly. I don't know anything so I think this is normal for hamsters. Ms M drops in and hears the noise and proceeds to tell me the following account. "That tan one used to be mine but my hamster was always biting it. Almost killed it. That's why you have three. We just put it in with Salt and Pepper to save it's life." Toy for Tumbleweed coming to mind. Okay, well that explains it. So who do you think is causing all the trouble in there now? She says, "I don't know." Excellent. We're all stupid when it comes to hamsters. Whose idea was this again?

We cope and we clean and we hear them constantly bickering and carrying on. Then one day it was quiet. I peered into the cage and I see Salt and Scissors but can't find Pepper. I look and look and don't find him. The cage has a little apartment that the hamsters can climb to and an exercise ball they can get to on top and then their cage is down below. Salt and Scissors were in the ball with hay they had brought up from below. They were gnawing on something. I look closer. Finally I see Pepper. Looks like they are chewing on its leg. Yeppers, Pepper's dead.

I honestly don't remember how Pepper got out and who disposed of him. I didn't. I was busy. I was glad we were down to two and was wondering if Salt would die soon. Salt had been dropped over the Christmas vacation and now has a paralyzed back hind leg. So not only did Ms D bring me three hamsters, she brought me three that fight, one that's gonna die, and one that bites and one that's wounded. In my right mind I would've said, give them to someone else. Ridiculous. Anyway, Salt moved around pretty good for the condition but was slow and fat and if rolled over wrong it took a long time to get right. (kind of like a bug on its back. I've fallen and can't get up syndrome). Anyway, I'm thinking Salt's on its last leg and then we'll just have Scissors who bites but is at least active and fun to watch. Secretly, I begin to pray for this event to happen.

Last week, an event happened. Not the one I prayed for, but an event none-the-less..... will finish tomorrow

Tough

2009-02-11T22:42:00.000-08:00

While giving Colin a bath tonight I noticed a little bruise on his back. Who knows? Didn't get a bath last night. It looks over a day old. So I asked while pressing on the bruise slightly (why do we do that?) and asked:

Me: Where did you get that bruise?

Colin: (flenching) Don't know.

Me: On the playground probably.

Colin: Yeah probably.

Me: You're so tough.

Colin: Tougher than you.

Me: stunned silence

Colin: You're so like... NOT tough. (smile)

Then later I was retelling this to JD and Colin was listening. Then he added. "Cuz she never cries." I guess you are really tough if you cry. I suppose he's right. And the truth is, I do cry, just not very often. I guess that makes me, what was it? Oh yeah, NOT tough.

Predestination

2009-02-05T20:03:00.000-08:00

Everything is a competition. And the winner is predetermined no matter the contest. Established before the foundation of the earth.

Colin: Mom, what color is my hair?

Me: Light brown.

Colin: What color is your hair?

Me: Dark brown.

Colin: I win!

Me: You win?

Colin: The person with light brown hair wins!

Good to know.

Wii have been invaded

2009-01-26T17:25:00.000-08:00

Colin is getting really good at this stuff. More on my whole view of Wii later. Just this little nugget for fun....

He's boxing. He won the first player. The second player happens to be a girl. He expresses his displeasure about this subtly. He knocks her down but she gets up on 7. He knocks her down again, she gets up on 9. At this point he vocalizes his frustration. "Mom, this girl I'm playing is tough!" Finally he knocks her out. He does quite the "victory dance" over that one.

I'm thinking.... this is good training for your future. You gotta learn not to get the shit knocked out of you by some girl.

When Will I Be Done?

2009-01-24T19:49:00.000-08:00

Colin's been asthma related sick this past week. Translation: he doesn't have a bad cold but he's got all the symptoms of a cold and a deep cough. How do I know the difference? Four years of training. Anyway, he's got a round of medicines he takes regularly to prevent a serious case of full blown asthma outbreak but sometimes, even that doesn't quite get it done.

On Monday, MLK Jr day, we went to Santa Barbara for the day. Walked on the beach, ate pizza outside and watched the ocean, played at a great park and in general had a fantastic day. However, all the "good fresh air" undid my child. So, he comes down with a nasty cough and snot-nose. I decide to be proactive and take him to the doctor on Wednesday before it gets worse. Sometimes we have to add a round of Prednisolone steroid to really kick the episode. As it turns out, I'm becoming a pretty good doctor for my child. I was right that he needed the steroids but while there, the doctor decides he should be on an allergy nasal spray routine as well as everything else we do. I say okay. What's one more at this point. It's amazing what one can get used to.

As soon as we get home from the doctor and pharmacy, I give him the first of five doses of steroids. And at bath time, I'm explaining to Colin the new routine. His response is a lot like mine, in what's one more? So we do the nasal spray to clean the sinuses. Then 10 minutes later we do the allergy spray, Fluticasone. Then we take our antihistamine and our daily vitamin, then we follow up with a dose of Albuteral through the nebulizer and right before bed we do the inhaler 2x of Flovent. Not to mention the Epi Pen we NEVER leave home without. I know right!? What the crap.

The next night we begin the same thing. As we are doing the allergy nasal medicine he asks, "Mom, this is the second time for this medicine. How long do I have to take this one?" I say, "For the rest of your life." He asks with hope, "Then I'll be done?" I smile at the irony in his sentence and respond, "Yep, then you'll be done." He liked that answer.

By the way, Colin will remind me, "Mom, we need to take my meds." I guess he knows they make a difference for him.

Well.... What Would You've Said?

2009-01-12T19:10:00.000-08:00

On vacation we went to Texas to see Granny and Pop. There was too much food as usual when people gather together for a holiday. I had helped make scalloped potatoes. They didn't get done when we were supposed to eat them so they were going to go back in the oven another day and finish getting done. This was a BIG corning dish of potatoes with butter, milk, salt pepper etc.

So in the fridge is the potatoes balanced on the ham with no lid. JD and I had gone to the movies as a date night (Dec 22 was our anniversary of 8 years and we went on a date while Granny and Pop babysat.) When we got back we heard about the incident that took place.

Granny and Colin were in the living room playing a game. Pop was going to get some dinner ready. Pop opened the fridge and the potatoes that were precariously balanced upon the ham crashed to the floor right side down. Shattered corning ware, potatoes etc all over the floor. Granny says, "What was that?!" Colin replies, "Sounded like glass." They get up to inspect the damage. Granny and Colin round the corner and get an eye full. Colin surveys the situation and says, "Holy Shit!"

Granny and Pop do their best to not laugh out loud. Granny asks Colin where he heard that. Colin says, "My Mom, at home." Excellent. Then Colin realizes that maybe he shouldn't have said what he did so he offers up this gem, "Holy Gosh?" Perfect! You know I'm in so much trouble now.

So after the story, after a good laugh, after I get all kinds of looks from my husband, my mother-in-law, and my father-in-law (not so harsh but more atta girl like) I say, "Well, at least he picked the right time to say exactly what everyone was thinking." And personally, if I had made the mess and my son rounded the corner and said, "Holy Shit." I would've responded, "You got that right buddy. Couldn't have said it better myself."

It's hopeless. I'm in love with my son!

A Clean Slate

2009-01-03T18:26:00.001-08:00

I love when the new year begins. It's a clean slate. Everything is new. You haven't screwed up yet. You haven't eaten too much yet. You haven't told any major lies. You haven't done serious damage....yet. You have a once a year opportunity to start a new again and everyone is on your side if not in the same boat even.

So, here I am, going to resolve to blog once a week no matter how tired I am after being extremely busy teaching a bunch of little kids how to read and write and count beyond twenty. I will figure out what day is best for blogging but I miss it and it seems my mind does too.

So, today, while on a bunch of errands with Colin, we get back in the car. I get a wet wipe and clean my hands. I ask Colin if he would like to clean his hands. Here's the conversation...

Me: Hey, Colin, you want to wipe off your hands?

Colin: No, I'm fine.

Me: But your hands are dirty now because you've been in three different stores and touched everything in your path.

Colin: No. I'm good.

Me: Well, not me. My hands were dirty and I wanted them clean so I don't get sick.

Colin: Sick?

Me: Yeah. Your hands are full of germs and if you don't clean them, the germs will make you sick.

Colin: ....processing.... Okay. I'll wash them.

I hand him the wet wipe I used. Still wet and full of soap.

Colin: Did you use this already? slightly disgusted

Me: Yeah. But it's still good.

Colin: But if you already used it, then it has your germs on it and I'm gonna get your germs.

Me: scrambling.... Yeah, but that wipe has a disinfectant in it and my germs are already dead.

Colin: Here mom. Hands me the wipe with two fingers and a little look of "whatever" on his face.

Okay, we'll it's already Jan 3....so my clean slate is a little mussed. Really. What did you expect?

Victoria's Secret

2008-12-07T07:58:00.000-08:00

Usher performed at the annual Victoria's Secret runway show in Miami Beach. I only know this because a commercial for it came on while I was watching some show on TiVo yesterday while I was ironing. (Obviously, I'm way behind on some of my programs). Anyway, Colin came through the room when the commercial was on. He watched with great intent as beautiful women walked up and down wearing not much while Usher's music is playing in the background. Cut to a shot of Usher doing a little of one of his numbers we can expect to hear at the show. Commercial ends. Colin says, "Mom, I want to watch that." I thought about this for a minute. Instead of saying, "No! You can't watch that. Your Daddy can't even watch that...." I asked a question. "Why do you want to watch that Colin?" He said, matter of factly, "For the music!" .... of course.

1635 Miles

2008-11-29T16:18:00.000-08:00

We just pulled into the driveway from a very long road trip. The time in the middle with my family was a great time. We're glad to be home. Driving 1635 miles is not an easy drive for the driver or the rider and I think Colin summed it up beautifully in-between Kingman and Barstow (the absolutely most brutal portion of the trip - ain't NOTHIN' out the window.) You have to say this with a little whine in your voice.

"Mom, I'm done to death."

Amen, amen. I didn't have the heart to tell him we still had 250 miles to go. I just agreed completely! Done to death. Can you get anymore done that that?

Time Slippin'

2008-11-21T06:50:00.000-08:00

I can't believe it was election day that I posted last. It was election day that I read anyone's blog last too. Time slipped away friends. But I've been a little busy.

I got my first "teacher's cold" that turned into a serious cough, that turned into a sinus infection that just today, I can finally feel my lungs normal again. Then I gave it to Colin who went through his typical Nebulizer treatments, Inhalers, Antibiotics, and trips to the Dr. Since that little cold, I've been wiping my room, the chairs, the door handles, the table tops with Clorox Bleach cleaner every day. I'll be damned if I get this crap again from one of those little cuties with cooties.

Also, a new job, I don't care what it is, is hard work. The previous teacher left me nothing! So I've been writing curriculum, making copies, shopping for manipulatives, building bulletin boards, creating a creative, educational, helpful room, and pulling stuff out of my ass for these guys every day, while looking like I know exactly what I'm doing and making it look easy. Luckily, I have a fantastic boss and good teacher friends and Andi around me who will not let me fail but instead are a constant source of help and encouragement. It also helps to have a 4 1/2 year old at home so I know exactly what these little guys are into, what they can do, what they should be doing, what they shouldn't be doing. Colin has been a remedial Masters Course in teaching Pre-Kindergarten for me lately. You gotta love God's providence in this one.

So, forgive the absence. I'll be back. We're leaving for New Mexico to go spend Thanksgiving with my family. We're driving. We'll be back next weekend. Looking forward to the break. So, I'll be posting again in December. I'm also gonna go back and read all your posts for November.... I've missed you guys!

The Vote

2008-11-04T20:02:00.000-08:00

In honor of the election today I decided to hold an election in my class. After discussion of what today was all about and who the candidates were (names only) and that all their parents were going to vote for a new president, I thought they should experience the process.

We have a new alligator in the class who will help every morning with circle time. He needed a name. I let each child come up with a name they liked. I had everything from Mr. Alligator to George, to Lisa to Princess. I told them that there was no wrong names and that Ms Stephanie and I would narrow their choices to two and then they would cast their vote on secret ballot.

The top two contenders were Noodles and Pepper. Each child voted by either writing 1 or 2 on the ballot. After the votes were counted, the elected name for our alligator is Noodles. Won the vote 10 to 4.

On the way out, each child got a "button" to wear home. It was a good day in America.

Back to School

2008-11-02T07:54:00.000-08:00

So, I went back to school on Monday. I've just spent my first week as a Pre-K preschool teacher. I had no illusions of how difficult this job was going to be; but I grossly underestimated out of pure ignorance. 'Ignorance is bliss' is not just a catch phrase. So here's a little list of what I learned....not exclusive by any stretch of the imagination, I just can't remember it all. It was a long first week. Ms Celeste tired.

1. A preschool is no place to break in a new pair of shoes.

2. You can make a pumpkin patch out of brown and green paper in about 10 minutes.

3. You can learn the names of 23 children in a day.

4. You can pee on command.

5. You walk a lot at a preschool and you never sit down.

6. Empty walls need something creative.

7. Glue is messy but cleans up easy with water.

8. Kids like things done a certain way and will tell you.

9. You can never show your fear.

10. "Wash your hands" is a relative statement.

11. Boys LOVE little cars and blocks.

12. I have inherited a classroom bird named Rocket. (I know nothing about caring for birds)

13. I hand-made an apron for my "Mary Poppins" costume.

14. Four years olds, don't really know who Mary Poppins is.

15. Five minutes without purposed activity will lead to all out uncontrolled chaos.

16. Kids eat buggers.

17. Teachers have to stick together.

18. Sleep is the best reward to a long day.

19. Parents trust you and hope the best for you.

20. I'm completely ill-equipped and completely excited.

Loopty "Loo"

2008-10-28T19:12:00.000-07:00

So, I've not pooped in two full days and I was due. I get situated for a little stay with my magazine and content for Colin to self-manage and come and go if he can stand the stench.

He interrupts:

Colin: Mom, I have to poop.

Me: Well, I'm already pooping.

Colin: Can you get off?

Me: Can you go to the other bathroom?

Colin: I need your help to wipe.

Me: By the time you're finished I'll be finished.

Colin: Mom (dancing) I have to poop right now.

Me: Okay, I'm moving. Give me a second....

I do necessary cleaning to "move" to the other potty. Colin settles, I settle again on the other potty and we're content. Then I hear...

Colin: I'm dooooonnnnneee!

Me: I'm noooooootttttt!

Colin: Are you coming Mom?

Me: Be right there.

I do the necessary cleaning to "move" again and to wipe the other bottom. I do, I sit again on a very warm seat and finish my job. I tell you, a good poop is hard to beat even if you're interrupted three times.

Here we go loopty "loo", here we go loopty ly, Here we go loopty "loo", all on a Tuesday night

Sheesh!

Faces

2008-10-26T09:37:00.001-07:00

Granny and Colin's handy-work. Is there better patience in the world than that of a grandmother's? I think not. Colin said, "The purple one with two candy corns is the one with noculars." (binoculars) Brilliant!

Holloween Time

2008-10-26T08:18:00.000-07:00

Granny and Pop were here this week so we went to Disneyland. They have it all dressed up for Halloween Time. Very cute.

A Comma

2008-10-25T16:55:00.000-07:00

On my way to the church to drop of Colin at school I pass by this spot that has had me thinking lately. I know, seriously dangerous, me thinking but it's happened and I thought (there I go again) I would share it or at least write it so that I can stop this infernal thinking as it were. Be patient with me, I promise not to do this too often.

I must begin with a moment out of a movie that was originally a play written by Margaret Edson called "Wit". Emma Thompson then stared in an HBO film production of it and I have to first say that if you haven't seen it, you absolutely MUST. It is in my top 10 movies of all time and shall be there forever. It is one of the few that grace my shelf. It is also one I watch at least once a year just to bathe in its perfection. Need I say it? Strong, weak in no way.

I'm going to painstakingly type out the scene for you because I happen to have a script of the play so you can read all the words. For it is the words themselves associating with this picture that has me thinking in the first place.

There are two characters in the scene. Vivian Bearing, PhD who has been diagnosed with stage four cancer and her professor, E.M. Ashford, D.Phil. In this scene Vivian is a student of E.M. and she's remembering a conversation with her professor about a paper she's written on the poem Death Be Not Proud by John Donne. Vivian ultimately becomes a professor of seventeenth-century poetry. She becomes an expert on Donne but in this scene she hasn't grasped even the simplest idea of it all.

Enter Prof EM Ashford. The scene is 28 years ago. Vivan suddenly turns twenty-two, eager and intimidated.

V: Professor Ashford?

EM: Do it again. Your essay on Holy Sonnet Six, Miss Bearing, is a melodrama, with a veneer of scholarship unworthy of you - to say nothing of Donne. Do it again.

V: I, ah...

EM: You must begin with the text Miss Bearing, not with a feeling.

Death be not proud, though some have called thee

Mightly and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe.

You have entirely missed the point of the poem, because, I must tell you, you have used an edition of the text that is unauthentically punctuated. In the Garner edition --

V: That edition was checked out of the library --

EM: Miss Bearing!

V: Sorry.

EM: You take this too lightly, Miss Bearing. This is Metaphysical Poetry, not The Modern Novel. The standards of scholarship and critical reading which one would apply to any other text are simply insufficient. The effort must be total for the results to be meaningful. Do you think the punctuation of the last line of this sonnet is merely an insignificant detail?

The sonnet begins with a valiant struggle with death, calling on all the forces of intellect and drama to vanquish the enemy. But it is ultimately about overcoming the seemingly insuperable barriers separating life, death, and eternal life.

In the edition you chose, this profoundly simple meaning is sacrificed to hysterical punctuation.

And Death - captial D - shall be no more - simicolon!

Death - captial D - comma - thou shalt die - exclamation point!

If you go in for this sort of thing, I suggest you take up Shakespeare. Garner's editions of the Holy Sonnets returns to the Westmoreland manuscript source of 1610 - not for the sentimental reasons, I assure you, but because Helen Garnder is a scholar. It reads:

And death shall be no more, comma, death thou shalt die.

Nothing but a breath - a comma - separates life from life everlasting. It is very simple really. With the original punctuation restored, death is no longer something to act out on a stage, with exclamation points. It's a comma, a pause.

This way, the uncompromising way, one learns something from this poem, wouldn't you say? Life, death. Soul, God. Past, present, Not insuperable barriers, not semicolons, Just a comma.

V: Life, death....I see. It's a metaphysical conceit. It's wit! I'll go back to the library and rewrite the paper --

EM: It is not wit, Miss Bearing. It is truth. The paper's not the point.

V: Isn't it?

EM: Vivan. You're a bright young woman. Use your intelligence. Don't go back to the library. Go out. Enjoy yourself with your friends. Hmmm?

So, as I drive Colin to school every morning I pass this scene and I think of this scene from the play and movie. I see a living illustration of the pause, the comma between death and life. And again I see the heroics of the firemen.

Death Be Not Proud
by John Donne
(1572-1631)

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more, death, thou shalt die.

Crayons and Monkeys

2008-10-20T21:06:00.000-07:00

Colin: Mom, I need a crayon.

Me: For what?

Colin: To stick in my ear.

Me: What?

Colin: To stick in my ear.

Me: You can't stick a crayon in your ear.

Colin: Curious George did.

Me: Well, "Curious George does things you can't do."

Colin: But I want to.

Me: You can't stick anything in your ear except your elbow.

Colin: Then can I have some paper and colors?

Me: To color with?

Colin: Yes

Me: If I find you with a crayon in your ear I'll take away your Game Boy for a week.

Colin: A week?

Me: That's seven days.

Colin: That's a lot of days.

Me: You can't stick anything in your ear, espcially a crayon and I mean it.

Colin: thinking... then hangs his head, pouts for a second, and abandons his idea.

What the crap is Curious George teaching my kid??!!!

Soaped

2008-10-20T06:45:00.000-07:00

It was a beautiful Sunday October afternoon and I was just sittin' on the couch reading "The Story Of Edgar Sawtelle" JD was lying on the couch watching football, Colin was sitting playing with his Game-boy when we all heard a crash. I looked up and JD looked at me and I said, "What was that?" He said, "Sounds like something just fell off the washer." Ummm...you could say that.

Under the washer, down the door, down the wall, on the ceiling, out into the hallway, on the carpet of the guest room, on the door knob, under the dryer....it didn't end.

What a mess! There was detergent EVERYWHERE!!!! It took me the better part of an hour to clean this up. And are you thinking what I was thinking? I was thinking, "Thank you God the basket was there."

The salvaged detergent.

At the price of this stuff, I saved every drop I could. That's probably why it took so long to clean up. UGGG!

Pulling and Plucking while Puling

2008-10-18T08:23:00.000-07:00

I've said, "I'm going to grow old gracefully." I'm not even sure what that means but it sounds like something you should say, so I do. However, lately, I've been plucking and pulling hairs out of my head like a mad woman and I'm not sure this is graceful. I'm pretty sure this falls under disgraceful. I used to couldn't find a gray hair. I had to really look and the light had to catch it just right but the time of that luxury has passed. Now, I don't have to "look" they just scream, "See me? Here I am." And then I go to pull it out but my eyes are going and the light is bad and I pull a brown hair out instead and the gray one continues to sneer at me with great satisfaction. I sneer back with contempt and pull hairs until I find it. And the plucking? What the crap? I used to only pluck my brows once in a while but now, I can't keep up. I've resorted to carrying around tweezers in my purse because the only time I can really see the little buggers is in daylight using the car's vanity mirror. Vanity for sure. And let's not even mention the three little whiskers on my chinny chin chin that will not give up. They keep coming back like a reoccurring zit during PMS. I'm just waiting for the hair to show up in my ears. This will be a very very very disgraceful day, I promise!

I'm going to grow old DISGRACEFULLY. I'm resigned.

pule (pul) v.i. puled, puling, to whine

Hidden Ingredient

2008-10-14T10:26:00.000-07:00

Remember the Friendship Bread attempt gone bad? Well, I finally gave up on trying to get something good out of that mess. However, recently I bought some zucchini and decided I would make a zucchini cake. It truly is the oldest recipe in my collection. Got it from my Mom. Been making this cake for 25 years. You can also put apples or carrots in this cake and I'm telling you, it's fail-proof. Colin really liked the friendship bread even though to me it always tasted wrong, so I called this cake "friendship bread" and didn't mention that it had a vegetable in it. He ate the whole cake almost by himself. So, for all you mommies who like to hide the good stuff in the food so your kids will eat it unknowingly.... (Seinfeld Cookbook)

...this might be a recipe you would like. Like I said, it's fail-proof.

Apple or Carrot or Zucchini Cake (Bread)

2 C sugar (if using apples only put in 1 1/2 C)

2 C grated apples or carrots or zucchini

2 eggs

3/4 C oil (1 C if you like it more moist)

2 C flour

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp (heaping) cinnamon

1 C chopped pecans or walnuts (optional)

Mix ingredients with mixer about 3 minutes dump into greased and floured bunt pan. Bake at 350 for 1 hour to 1 hour 5 minutes or until knife comes out clean. Cool and dump onto cake plate. Slice and serve. It's wonderful. You can also add cream-cheese frosting to the carrot version for more of a dessert.

Weight Watchers - a slice has 5 points w/o nuts and 6 points w/ nuts.

Fighting Spiders

2008-10-13T07:23:00.000-07:00

I don't usually brag on my son's coloring, drawing, or writing abilities because in a word, they're not that good. He's a boy, he's in a hurry, he's about getting it done so he can go play with cars, heros, trains, swords, and other boys. But the other day he handed me this. I took notice because first of all, it had more than one color, second, it had different texture (dots, lines, movement). It looked like he actually cared about this. So I said, "Colin, this is really good. What do you call this piece of art?" He looked at it and then said, "It's 'Fighting Spiders'." I praised him some more and then he said, "See the two spiders Mommy? One of them is blue and purple and the other is red and yellow and the black marks is the FIGHT!" (fight said ferociously). I was impressed and decided that I would frame this one. I also decided that maybe each of his pieces have a meaning and I should be less critical and more attentive and appreciative.

FIGHTING SPIDERS

Igor

2008-10-12T09:20:00.000-07:00

Not even gonna waste my time writing a review but simply going to warn you NOT to go. Complete utter waste of time and can't find a redeeming thing about this movie, especially for children. Dark, gloomy, weird, sad sad little film. Do not be deceived by this cute little poster.

Weak, strong in NO way!

One funny thing that happened. At the very beginning when the lion roars for MGM, a little girl was opening the door to the theater at the same time. She see nothing but blackness and hears lion roaring. It made her cry and she refused to come in for fear of a lion on the lose. I shouldn't laugh, but that was really funny. She sat in the lap of her Daddy the entire movie. The movie scared her too. On two different occasions she asked to go home. Poor kid, my guess is her dreams were not pleasant last night.

Underwood Farms Harvest Festival

2008-10-11T06:42:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the Pumpkin Patch

Most of Colin's class

The Pumpkin Train

Watching the Bees work in their hive

Watching the bees work at the flowers

Riding the Pony (Arizona)

Colin's preschool class went to Underwood Family Farms in Moorpark on a field trip. JD and I went as staff / parent and to just get in on the fun. And fun it was. What a wonderful place to be all day. We went to a little lecture on how pumpkins are grown, the different kinds of pumpkins and a display of all the kinds we would find there. Then we rode a wagon and got a tour of the place. Then we picked our pumpkins. Harder than you expect -- so many to choose from. After that we all had some lunch and then we did other activities: pony rides, watching the bees work, bounce house, train rides, and more. Glorious day!

Firemen

2008-10-07T06:51:00.000-07:00

We have heros among us and they run around in big red trucks, sometimes yellow and save lives and put out fires. Firemen are awesome! That's really all there is to it. The EMTs always have my highest esteem and anyone willing to run into a flame for my safety is nothing but a hero. I admire them. I support them. I get out of their way when they are coming down the street and as they pass I always pray for them and whomever they are racing to save. Racing, knowing they might not make it through the day, but they go anyway.

But it when the hero takes off his mask and hangs with the kids, they become the most hero-like. Only a human, no different than the rest of us, save their every day bravery, shows a kid how fun it might be to be a fireman someday, how to avoid being caught in a fire, what to do when a fire happens, and what it feels like to hold a fire-hose powerfully alive with water....

"Awesome!"

Beverly Hills Chihuahua - Review

2008-10-05T07:08:00.000-07:00

We went to see Beverly Hills Chihuahua yesterday. I was actually excited because it's Disney and I expect movie-making perfection from Disney even when it potentially could be ridiculous. My expectations for really liking the movie were reasonable in that I don't really have an affinity for dogs. I've never had a dog as a pet because I'm allergic to them. But there have been some of the best movies ever about dogs: Old Yeller, Where the Red Fern Grows, The Incredible Journey, K-9, Turner and Hooch, My Dog Skip -- I loved them all so I was open to this movie. I can also appreciate a good dog, especially one that has a job such as K-9 police dogs, sight dogs, sheep dogs, drug dogs, search and rescue dogs, etc. And I can appreciate a loved family dog. I like to watch "Best In Show" like anyone else and am fascinated by all the breeds. But for the life of me, I don't get the chihuahua. I don't get why people think they are so cute and how putting clothes on them can possibly be rationalized as normal behavior. I don't get how a yappy little rat-like thing could be a good companion or bring any good to the world whatsoever. So, I half expected the movie to do one of two things, either change my mind about the love for the chihuahua or make me despise them all the more.

As far as the movie itself, it was fine. The story line was good enough. Good verses Evil, finding your place in the world, overcoming adversity, becoming a hero in the moment of extraordinary circumstances, etc. The special effects were what you would expect with talking animals. The characters were okay. My favorite was the German Shepherd, voiced by Andy Garcia. Honesty, without that character/dog/actor, I wouldn't have made it through the film. Kudos to the dog trainers behind the scenes. They brilliantly made fun of the ridiculous behavior by the wealthy and the treatment of their "precious babies" with spa treatments, outfits, diamond collars, doggie birthday parties, special sized furniture, doggie play dates, and more. But then they went all support-the-cause and awareness on me and overall just pissed me off. It makes me mad when a film is used to support a cause. It's not what I signed up for. I came to be entertained. I don't like the bait and switch approach. That's not going to get me on your band wagon....ever! And it really makes me mad when they deceive you with the trailers into coming to see a movie you have a preconceived idea about based on those trailers and then bombard you throughout the movie with their cause and you are watching a completely different movie. Wall-E is a perfect example.

Basically, this is what I got. Some dogs have way too much to the point of ridiculous and the dogs themselves are tired of it. As a breed they are done being treated like "precious babies" and want to treated with some respect. "No Mas!" There are other dogs that are being abused by their owners to do their dirty work. There are the lost dogs captured for ransom or used as money making machines in the dog-fighting arena. (tastefully, there was never a "dog-fight" in the movie) There are a lot of dogs without homes and deep down, that's all any dog really wants in the world - to be loved and wanted.

I was not happy! Bob Barker did it best. Consistently and subtly, "Help control the pet population, have your pet spade or neutered."

No Mas! Oh, and my thoughts about the chihuahua; pretty much the same. Less against the dog itself, more against the people who need to own them as an accessory to their lives.

Weak, strong in a way

O-crap-tober

2008-10-01T19:51:00.000-07:00

Today begins O-crap-tober. Where you knew the busy season was coming but you were still in summer mode and then all of a sudden you realize it's already October and all the things you were putting off until fall is now due and you don't have as much time as you thought you did so you are now in trouble if you don't seriously get busy.

Some things to think about:

There's only 84 more days until Christmas

Every catalog ever printed will arrive in your mailbox over the next two weeks. Just when you've thrown them all out, you'll get round two and eventually round three.

Halloween candy is already stale in the grocery stores because it's been there since August 15th.

You can't find anything to buy that's summer anymore because every rack is now covered with long sleeves, coats, scarves, gloves, pants, wool, corduroy, and fleece. The sales have been cleared but fall is still full price. (It was 90 degrees here yesterday).

Airline tickets are still expensive and they're not coming down.

Gas is still really close to $4 / gallon.

You feel pressure to "decorate" your house for fall or Halloween or Thanksgiving or all the above.

The days are really much shorter now but the country won't let us recognize that because they moved the official daylight savings time to first week of November. (Guess the whole country was complaining about O-crap-tober so they gave us a little more daylight a little longer).

Football is in full swing and if you're a football widow, you're starting to really feel it now, probably worked yourself into a real good mad.

Baseball is finally in playoffs so that's a whole new kind of obsession

Basketball mania is just around the corner

Your kid will change their Halloween costume idea 50 times before the end of the month and then you'll end up making something out of old pajamas at the last minute.

Homework, soccer games, football games, choir rehearsals, science projects, etc have taken up all your family's spare time.

You're ready for another vacation but see no light at the end of the tunnel until Spring Break.

And because everyone is super busy, they (whomever you choose) decided to make us "aware" of some serious stuff: It's National...

Breast Cancer Awareness Month (get a mammogram girlfriends if you're over 40)
Down's Syndrome Awareness Month.
Domestic Violence Awareness Month
Meth Awareness Month
Energy Awareness Month
National Cyber Security Awareness Month

It's also finally cooling off, the leaves are turning colors, time for apple pie and pumpkin spice lattes, and we should remember to be thankful while we're being busy busy busy.

My Favorite Part

2008-09-29T15:10:00.000-07:00

Recently, Colin went with two of his friends to see Sleeping Beauty at El Capitan in Hollywood. He went because I've taught him to love the movies no matter if it's a chick flick or not because there might be something wonderful you otherwise would've missed. And on this trip Carson was going so it couldn't be that bad right? Calliegh was of course our princess for the day. See Andi's blog about that with pics.

My point of this post was a little conversation with Colin last night on the way to a birthday party....

Colin: Mom, remember when we went to see Sleeping Beauty?

Me: Yes.

Colin: You know what my favorite part was?

Me: Tell me.

Colin: I liked the part where that dog had on a pointed hat...

(pause to hear my thinking...I'm thinking about the movie. I don't remember any dogs especially ones with a pointed hat. I can think of the fairies with hats, Maleificent with a pointed hat of sorts but no dogs.....Colin interrupts my thinking and finishes his thought)

Colin: ....you know the one that said, "Eiii Chiwawa" (Little laugh from Colin) That was so funny!

Again I pause to try to figure this out and then it hits me. Colin's favorite part of seeing Sleeping Beauty was the previews for the new Disney movie Beverly Hills Chihuahua.

Can you guess where we'll be on Friday?

How old?

2008-09-28T16:23:00.000-07:00

Colin: Mom, why don't you like Spongebob Squarepants?
Me: Because, he's not nice. He says and does things that are not nice. I don't like him.
Colin: But I like him.
Me: You think you like him because it's a cartoon but that doesn't necessarily make it right for kids. It's actually for adults.
Colin: It's for kids and adults.
Me: No. You're not old enough to watch Spongebob Squarepants.
Colin: How old do you have to be?
Me: Thirty five

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

2008-09-28T07:22:00.001-07:00

Just finished this book yesterday. It was absolutely delightful! I loved it. Written in a unique style of nothing but letters back and forth from the characters. It takes place in 1946 just after WWII in London and the Channel Island of Guernsey. It's a great historical lesson mixed into the story and while you're learning something, you simply forget you're reading fiction and these people become like your friends. It makes you want to write a letter, receive a letter, and cherish the written word in someone's actual handwriting. As bloggers, you'll find this much like what we do now, posting our lives back and forth, sharing the latest events and our thoughts on random things and finding friends through other friends. You'll wish to visit and have coffee and eat some pie and share a story. Filled with stories of love, heart break, humor, heart ache, recovery of the destruction of war, and true friendship, I recommend it highly. It's a gentle read. It quiets the soul. I give this book strong-weak-in-a-way.

Diagonal Crossing

2008-09-26T16:54:00.001-07:00

Can you say brilliant? When I walked through this it felt like the first time I drove around a round about. Amazed at the beauty of perfect thinking. I said, "Who thought of this?" So simple. So perfect. Can we put one on every busy corner? This is one of the Brighton corners.

In 1987, the City of Beverly Hills modified traffic signals at eight intersections within the Business Triangle to include an exclusive pedestrian phase where all approaches would stop to let pedestrians cross the intersection either diagonally or conventionally. The intersections included:

Brighton and Canon
Brighton and Beverly
Brighton and Rodeo
Brighton and Camden
Brighton and Bedford
Dayton and Canon
Dayton and Beverly
Dayton and Rodeo

No Longer a Virgin - I've Been Sprinkled

2008-09-24T21:49:00.000-07:00

My friend Jo Anna is one of a kind. She is the mother of five kids that she loves dearly but drive her crazy and give her great stories to share and make us all laugh. She's the one that will volunteer to drive anywhere and take as many in her car as want to fit. She's the organizer of "field trips" to various places just for fun, to create a memory, to share a good time with good friends. She is a great photographer, an avid Dodger fan and I think she's fabulous! Today she planned a trip to Sprinkles Cupcakes.

Sprinkles is located in the heart of Beverly Hills. So a group of us went and I had high hopes that were not disappointed. I've had these famous cupcakes but haven't been to the store until today. There's something magical about going to the store. Sort of like the first time you step foot into a Krispy Kreme with the "hot" light on. It's impossible to describe how wonderful a hot Krispy Kreme is until you try one right out of the icing-fall. Anticipating that the Sprinkles Cupcakes would be a very similar experience I couldn't wait to get there. We walked in the door and there they were: little paper pockets of pure sin all lined in rows waiting for us to take them home. I understand why they keep their daily choices to approximately 10 or a person would never be able to complete an order. Let me just tell you this: These ain't your mamma's cupcakes.... these are little pieces of heaven that will have you praying that all the calories in these mounds of confection perfection will miraculously somehow stick to those skinny-ass hips prancing around Beverly Hills and not your own.

So there it is, I'm no longer a virgin, I've been Sprinkled. I highly recommend it. Worth every calorie you smell and swallow. Fantastic. Thanks Jo Anna.

Summer's End

2008-09-22T14:14:00.002-07:00

Today is the first day of Fall. Hard to believe that summer's over but in truth, it's been a long summer's journey with many unexpected turns. It's brought perspective with truth and acceptance and sometimes without understanding. The following includes the summer's events in synopsis form. To delve in too deep is hard. There was a time of silence on my blog this summer and since this is a place I purge my thoughts as well as keep my friends and family up to date, I'll recap with you and share pictures as I go. Although this will be stunted, it's still a little long by blog standards.

The summer basically started with the end of Spring and the Rocky Peak Children's Choir production of "Race To Win". I did the drama portion and it was a delight to watch the show come together and then watch the kids do a fantastic job. Colin was part of Pint Size Praisers. For only being three and some, he did a great job.

Lizzie, Colin and Caden -- best buds

The whole show was about learning to run the race of life with God instead of on your own merit. Little did I know, that would be the theme of the whole summer.

About the same time that the musical was going on, Michael Crumrine arrived in town. He was about one month ahead of his family moving here from Texas. While Andi and the kids stayed to pack the house, finish school and say good-bye, Michael started a new job at Rocky Peak. We were so excited that our dear friends were moving to Simi Valley. In an instant, what was just another place to live, became like home. Michael stayed with us a couple of weeks before he got into his house. It was a great time getting to know him so much better. We all waited impatiently for Andi and the kids to arrive.

There was one week where we had Michael and J-bird at the house together. It was great fun for both JD and Colin to have playmates. WALL-E opening was just around the corner and Bird got roped into watching trailers with Colin OFTEN!!! I'm not sure who enjoyed it more. I do know that Colin loves him some Bird!

The last week of May and the first two weeks of June consisted of moving. We moved from one house to another and although it was a great move for our family, it's expensive and exhausting. We were so glad to get it done. We took a short break and went to Disneyland with good friends from Colorado and jumped right back in. Then came time for the Crumrines to move in. Michael and his brother JD (also a John David) drove their belongings from TX and for a week we got their house all set up for Andi and the kids. By the end of that, I was happy to stay put the rest of my life. Fell in love quickly with our backyard and was looking forward to the summer that would take place back there.

Andi and the kids arrived and we quickly got into the Beach Wednesday routine. Always a little chilly in the first few weeks but soon, there's nothing but sun and fun for all. Good friends and great kids. I can't tell you how grateful I am that Colin will grow up going to the beach. I grew up going to the lake but the beach is just yummy! Colin grew a lot this summer in his bravery. He finally tackled the waves and the critters with attitude and confidence. I became one of the moms dousing my kid with baby powder at the end of the day to get all the sand off.

Picture by Jo Anna Wiseman

This summer Colin also grew in the area of swimming. He learned that his little life jacket would keep him afloat and overcame his fear of the water. He went from being a kid who needed his mommy to swim with him and hold him to a kid who was fearless about jumping, sliding, and getting all wet, all by himself. It was a remarkable transformation. Thank you to my friends with pools. He also learned about Star Wars, perfected some dance moves, and got really good at hitting a baseball in the back yard. He started playing video games on the computer and a Game Boy, compliments of Carson, and his vocabulary and his height both grew tremendously. Because of his height, he rode several rides at Disneyland that would or could be considered "scary" but he took them on and conquered. He even learned to monitor his own peanut contamination to prevent another trip to the ER. (We did that in early July) To say Colin grew this summer would be an gross understatement.

About the middle of June - a week before Father's Day, Colin and I were on our way to Target to get a few things but specifically, a pregnancy test. I of course didn't tell Colin this is what were getting but on the way he mentioned that he would be faster than his brother. My ears perked up. "Your brother?" "Yeah, I'm gonna be faster." "What if you have a sister? You know we don't get to pick this. Would you be okay with a sister?" "Yeah.....but I'm still gonna be faster." We get home from the store and I take the test. It was positive. I held this news for about 24 hours and then had to tell JD. I showed him the stick and said, "Happy Father's Day." Well, to make a long story short, we miscarried the baby in mid July. This is our third miscarriage since Colin. I'm 41 years old and we decided that we do not have the fortitude to ride that roller coaster any more. This was not an easy decision but we feel it's the best one. We love our family just the way it is and have come to accept it with great love and gratitude. We are still open to other ways of growing our family but we've given up trying to control that. My favorite moment of this time on the ride was when Colin picked up the pregnancy test and asked, "Mom, what's this?" I smiled and said, "What do you think it is?" He said, "It's a Destinator." Perfect. I wish we could know our destiny as easy as peeing on a stick. I would drink my weight in Sunny D, daily.

We celebrated the fouth of July with Granny and Pop. It wouldn't have been a complete summer without a visit from them. We had a garage sale and got rid of some more stuff. Also mid July we did VBS at Rocky Peak and I was in charge of one of the story rooms. The fun had can't be explained. Just know that we had a job to tell stories about Jesus and we did it with great passion and absolute fun. This picture is the day we were telling about Peter walking on water and learning to be brave. Each person dressed up as either part of the sea or part of the boat crew. Andi made the loveliest mermaid I've ever seen. I was an Orka and talked like Dory's whale talk from Finding Nemo the entire day. The kids loved it! This was my team and they were fantastic!

Kathleen, Cindy, Susan, Andi, Me, Danielle (Elaine, Sherill, and Will not pictured)

Late July, training started for the Cowboys just down the road. JD and Colin went and watched them practice. You see, JD's been waiting a long time for this, teaching Colin about football from an early age. Not sure Colin appreciated the significance but I know JD did. So far, so good, the Cowboys are doing well. Click on the picture and you can see Romo in the background.

Then before we knew it, it was August. We knew the other Crumrines (JD, Kim , Tyler and Tanner) were coming for a visit and they were going to stay with us. We had such a good time watching all the boys play and Calleigh be the lone princess, which she handled beautifully. We did Disney, the beach, etc. Good times with good friends.

Carson, Colin, Tyler, Tanner and Calliegh

However, that happiness was shadowed by, a tragic accident crippled my family. My little nephew (3) got his left hand caught in a meat grinder. I'll keep these details to a minimum because it's hard to explain and my family reads this blog and it's all still very hard to take in. Orion was rushed to Tuscon for emergency surgery to save his fingers and hand. The prayers were answered and his fingers were saved, his hand was saved. He had three surgeries in one week. He was staying with my mom and dad in NM while his mom, my sister Chantell, was in Phoenix starting a new job and moving into a new house and starting her other two children in school. Orion was helping my mother make salsa. She was grinding chilies and onions in the grinder. Only for second did my mother turn away and that's all it took for a little three year old to be more than curious. At his side 24 hours a day for almost four weeks in the hospital were mom, dad and Chantell. He's home now. He's recovering. Although his hand will never be the same again, he still has it and will find a new normal faster than any of us will imagine. He's going to require much therapy and more skin graphs, but for now, things have settled.

Colin and Orion playing in the hospital

It was during those three weeks that our family drove to Phoenix to help Channy move in, then on to Tuscon to see my Mom and Dad and Orion in the hospital and then on to San Diego to do Legoland and Sea World. It was a difficult vacation as our emotions wanted to be on one side of glad or sad but we kept forcing them to mix together. Worrying for my family and celebrating Colin's fourth birthday.

This was my favorite picture of the trip. We were at the Pima Air Museum with Dad. There was an engine behind glass and you could push the button and watch the engine run for a minute. As it did, Dad explained to us what each part was. Curious for more, Colin kept asking, "Papa, what's that?" "Papa, what does that do?" It was precious to me. A stolen moment of happiness away from the tragedy just down the street, engrossed in the joy and curiosity of a boy with his Papa.

We returned home from that trip and dove head first into school and routine. Summer ended. God's grace poured over us again and again as we learned to run our race and live our life with Him at the helm. Knowing He is good all the time and that the trials we went through and are still going through are for our ultimate good and with his grace we will be more and more like Jesus.

Welcome to Fall everyone. It's almost O-crap-tober. Breathe while you can and happy football, pumpkins, apples, costumes, and most of all thanksgiving.

My Case for a Clothes Line

2008-09-19T20:08:00.000-07:00

I had the same washer and dryer for over 15 years. It was a good set but old. Good enough to sell with the house in Henderson. Then JD and I moved to Dallas and we decided it wast time for a new set. We didn't spare any expense and bought the best and latest in new technology where these appliances are concerned. They were great! I loved the new set. I could wash more clothes in one load than I could accumulate in one week. I couldn't believe how much faster things were washed and dried. Less time, less water, less soap, less energy. It was a beautiful thing. And silly as it is, they were beautiful to look at as well. We obviously kept these little beauties when we moved to CA and my love affair continued. Then we moved to this house and the honeymoon was over.

The first load out of the dryer that should've been dry in less than 40 minutes was more than damp. So I thought maybe something happened to the dryer during the move. I called an appliance guy. For the price of $35 he informed that there was nothing wrong with my dryer. The problem was in the vent. He said it was too long and he said it was probably clogged. I needed to call a different company to come clean out the dryer vent. Great! I obviously couldn't do anything about the construction of the vent but I could get someone to come and clean it out.

So I call an air conditioner company who says in its ad that they also do dyer vents. I explain to the people that the vent is really long. It's the entire width of the garage and if they need to bring anything special to reach that they should. Of course that information was lost in translation and when they guys get here they claim if they had known it was going to be that long they would've brought the air compressor. Great! They do the best they can with what they have but while they're pulling the dryer away from the wall they break the hose from the dryer into the wall that then goes through the wall out to the garage and down the wall through the wall to the outside. Great! So now I have to get a new hose from Home Depot and JD will install that later. Great! Anyway, they get a lot of crap out of the vent run but are pretty sure they're going to have to come back with the air compressor. Will I do a few loads of laundry and let them know. Yep. They leave. I do a load to see. Not fixed. Need air compressor. Great!

In the meantime, I have to get laundry done. The dryer will dry things eventually but it requires more time than before on the highest heat the dryer has. Even after 65 minutes, they are just barely dry. So things like jeans, towels, sheets, etc NEVER get dry. So I decide to get creative and hang those types of things outside on the chairs of my outside table. What I discover is that in the morning sun the jeans will dry in less than 30 minutes, towels will dry in an hour, and sheets will dry in about 20 minutes. GREAT! So although my problem isn't solved a solution, temporary or otherwise has been found. So I delay in calling for the air compressor to come out.

The longer it went along and the more loads that the sun dried, the more I liked the idea of an "outside dryer". It saved energy and it worked faster and better than the dryer ever did even on its best day. Also, the smell of sheets from the outside was so great. The jeans didn't need starch anymore, just a hot iron and they were better than if you'd have picked them up at the cleaners. Great!

Now, most of you have met my husband. You know and if you don't I'm going to tell you; he is very particular about several things. Aesthetically pleasing is of most importance to him. Things have an order. Color matters. Texture is important. Flow of a room, theme of color, ideas of decor all matter. The outside is just as important. So you can imagine his chagrin to see our laundry hanging in the backyard. It probably wouldn't be so bad except we back up to a golf course and the whole golfing community can see our sheets blowing in the breeze. This mortifies my husband people. Mortifies him. While he appreciates clean, dry, ironed clothes he doesn't want the rest of the world to know our clothes get dirty. That's private. So, for my husband's sake, I keep the clothes that go outside to just sheets, towels, jeans and shirts. No undies, pajamas, or unmentionables. Those toss around in the dryer for over 65 minutes just to get barely dry. Exhausting.

I, on the other hand, don't give a rip. I don't care what people think. I don't care if they not only see sheets but underwear, bras, swimsuits, whatever. I don't care. If it were up to me the entire wash would be out on a line....a clothes line with clothes pins. We live in the land of eternal sunshine. It doesn't get cold and with the morning sun in our backyard, we could dry clothes outside all year around. I ponder this, think about this, and decide to present my case for a clothes line to JD. I did my research. I know without ever asking that he's not going to "install" a clothes line that stretches across the yard. Whatever I present must be removable. It has to be able to disappear from the sight of the world because for JD a clothes line with clothes hanging on it is just plain tacky white trash and he's not going there.

So after planting the seed in JD's brain and watering it and nurturing it and looking for a long time to find the perfect solution, I find an umbrella clothes line that folds up and goes away when not in use. The base that's in the ground is the only thing "permanent". I pulled it up on the computer for him to look at and asked him to really consider this. He literally, went up the screen, glanced at the picture (didn't even sit down), backed up and shook his head and said emphatically, "No!" This was not just a simple "no", this was a "Hell NO! Not in a million years, not as long as I'm alive, ain't no way this will ever be in my back yard!" kind of no.So I put it to you, the reader, the objective, the unattached, the people who have dryers, the people who have dirty clothes, the people who believe in saving energy for the sake of our planet. If I'm going to put the clothes out regardless, shouldn't I be allowed to have a tool that accomplishes the goal better? Doesn't it make sense to utilize the technology available to our benefit? Don't you like clothes off the line? If it's a removable line, wouldn't it make sense? I do the laundry. I care for our clothes. I deal with the dryer problem. I've found a great way to save energy. I should have the line outside. I think laying the clothes on the table chairs is tacky. I think hanging the clothes on a line designed to hang clothes is smart. I don't care if the golfers can see it. And I'm pretty sure they don't care either. I rest my case.

By the way, I did call for the company to bring the air compressor and finish the job. They set an appointment and didn't show. And I also think that even if they did come out, it wouldn't solve the problem. The problem is the old vent is 20 feet long, made of metal and holds the heat therefore, shuts the thermostat off on the dryer to prevent a fire. At least that's my theory.

The Bunny Story

2008-09-15T12:47:00.000-07:00

The following story would have the disclaimer "viewer discretion is advised" if were a TV production due to "violence, adult content and adult language". It was a horrible experience mostly because there was nothing I could do to prevent the inevitable.

The crime scene: from the backyard to the kitchen, around the breakfast table, and finally the front porch. This was the only picture I could find of the table and rug.

The victim: an adorable spring baby bunny probably just weened from his mamma.

The killer: an old fat family cat who was energized by the spring weather and motivation to bring a gift to his mamma.

The witnesses: a toddler boy and his hysterical mamma.

It was a lovely spring afternoon in Texas very close to Mother's Day. The cold had broken, the rain had stopped, everything was turning green and it was warming up. The back door was open to let in the fresh air and Tumbleweed was thrilled to be allowed in and out again. The back door led into a huge backyard of nothing but a lot of grass and a big wooden fence that went all the way around. Not exactly a place for hunting anything spectacular but Tumbleweed didn't know that. In the short time we had lived there, he brought several gifts to me; baby moles, lizards, and occasionally a bird. All arrived at my feet dead. Now you might be thinking, "Ah, poor animals." But they're not that cute and dead, they're even less attractive. Besides, I'm used to it. Tumbleweed has been bringing me gifts of love for many many years. It's like getting fresh flowers from your husband for no apparent reason at all. Always a surprise and sweet. Only with a husband you automatically wonder what he's done wrong that he needs forgiveness or what he's planning to do that he needs permission. I digress... Anyway, I always thank Tumbleweed for his gifts and pat his head and dispose of them discretely. Although I had seen bunnies in the back yard, they were usually too fast for Tumbles and would manage to squeeze under the fence before he could get them. But this day was different. This day, Tumbleweed was energized by the spring air and the bunny unfortunately didn't stand a chance.

Colin had just woke from his nap. He was about a year and a half and still very much "toddling". I distinctly remember him playing in his room just off the kitchen. I'm working in the kitchen doing who knows what. Doubtful I was prepping anything for dinner, but for the story's sake let's assume I was being productive. It was quiet and peaceful. Then I hear this little noise. A squeal of sorts. I look up from the sink and I see Tumbleweed carrying something in his mouth as he trots into the house. He greets me with a meow (nothing like a cat talking with its mouth full) and I see the bunny. He has it by the throat and it's squealing for his life. I know this because a rabbit only makes noise when it is in dire straights; otherwise, they are quiet. This bunny was begging for anything to save it. Great! It's one thing for Tumbleweed to bring me a gift that's already dead or even almost dead (especially a lizard - who cares right?) but it is quite another when the gift is NOT dead and is cute like a baby bunny and is going to die if I don't do something.

So I approach Tumbles and calmly say, "Put the bunny down. Let go of the bunny." Tumbleweed looks at me like I've just lost my mind. He's not going to drop his prize. Besides, he's not done with it yet. He still needs to play toss and catch, bat and swat, watch and wait. He just barely got it under control from outside. Drop it? Not gonna happen. Also, my cat is panting. He's worked really hard to get this little guy. But I'm thinking I can rescue the bunny if I can get Tweed to drop him. I continue to press for him to let go. He continues to talk with his mouth full. So I decide to beat him at his own game and I choose the "watch and wait" card. I figure, he eventually has to let it go no matter what he plans to do with it. He NEVER eats his kill so I'll get it eventually (it's for me right?)

Finally, Tweed drops the bunny. The bunny has been holding the "hold still and wait" card. As soon as his body touches the floor, he moves. I expect him to hop away and huddle under something and I'll never catch it, etc. I wish! Not this bunny. Apparently, many many rounds of toss and catch / bat and swat have already taken place. This poor animal was in horrible shape.

At this point, I'm now horrified. I am no longer using a calm voice with my cat. I am no longer filtering my words for the sake of my toddler in the next room. I am absolutely hysterical. Probably not as hysterical as the bunny but dang close. The words coming out of my mouth are along the lines of the following: (read hysterically) OMG, Tumbles what have you done. Oh poor bunny, oh your leg, oh it's bleeding. Tumbleweed it's bleeding. I need a towel, don't get on the rug bunny, don't...oh my....shit! Tumbleweed, leave it alone, don't .... Stop! Bunny Stop! Oh, there's blood everywhere. What is that?! Are those intestines, is that guts, is that what guts look like? STOP! BUNNY! STOP! Tumbleweed, I will never forgive you for this. Colin, stand back, don't touch the bunny, don't touch the floor, no touch, hear me? no touch....This towel won't work, I like this towel. Oh, shit, shit, shit! Tumbleweed, leave the rabbit alone! Oh crap. You poor bunny. My rug! Tumbleweed you are in so much trouble. The baby bunny's back leg was broken but out of desperation he moved as fast as he could and he took off into the kitchen. As he moves, you're thinking, "Oh, good, you can rescue the bunny and save him from that horrible cat." In theory yes. But the bunny was no longer a cute fluffy ball of fur. It was drenched with saliva, blood and intestines trailing along behind his broken leg. And my cat no longer is trying to catch the rabbit but instead is just watching the rabbit try to get away. Admiring his work perhaps? So it hobbles along and then goes toward the round table in the kitchen that sits on a rug. Until that point the bunny had been on a surface that could be mopped of any evidence of brutality. But as he approaches the rug I become even more hysterical. At this point the only intelligible word in my hysteria is "shit" repeated over and over. I am beside myself trying to catch the bunny (failing). I've gotten a kitchen towel to grab it with, but it took me a moment to find one that I was willing to throw out, I've tried to get the cat away from the rabbit (failed) I've tried to tell Colin to move back (failed). I've tried to stop the bunny from running all over the rug leaving his body parts along the way (miserably failed). It was absolutely HORRIBLE! Literally, the bunny's bowels are strung around the table, a trail of blood is from the back door to the kitchen and around the table, the bunny is still bleeding, Colin thinks his mother has lost her mind and the cat doesn't understand why I'm getting involved in his game.

Finally, the bunny is exhausted and stops. I yell at the cat to get away. I pick up the bunny with the towel. I feel his little heart beating with fear. He immediately knows that he's been captured again but somehow knows it's not by the cat. He starts to calm down. He's dying. He knows it and I know it. At this point, I'm just wretched with anguish over the whole thing. I apologize to the bunny that I wasn't able to rescue it. I apologized for my cat being a cat. I promised that he would be able to die in peace. I gently wrapped him in the towel and placed him on the front porch in the shade. I knew it would only be a few minutes and he would die. I didn't have it in me to put him out of his misery. I wouldn't know how and even if I did, I wouldn't have been able withstand one more squeal. We were both exhausted from the trauma. Enough was enough.

I went back in the house and Tumbleweed proceed to give me a mouthful of why I shouldn't have gotten involved, that he had the whole thing under control and he was not pleased with my behavior at all. I proceed to let Tumbleweed know that I don't want any more bunnies as gifts, not ever, dead or alive! Colin was still standing in the exact spot where I had moved him out of the way. He looked as if he had just witnessed something unique. I'd say; a murder would qualify as unique in my book. I just broke down and cried. I cried for the bunny and as I looked at my rug that would never be the same again, I cried some more. I cleaned up the scene of the crime and realized that I would always have blood stains on the rug to remind me of the incident known now as "The Bunny Story"

I eventually sold that rug without divulging the whole story. Practically gave the thing away due to some "wear and tear and a few stains".

The next day after the incident I picked up Colin from Mother's Day Out. His craft he made was a lovely cutout of a Momma Bunny with her baby bunny all decorated with Colin's early attempt at coloring and a little message about a mother's love. Sick sense of humor our God has.

Jaded Sentiment

2008-09-14T19:57:00.001-07:00

JD has started a blog....I know! Anyway, I encourage you to drop in: Jaded Sentiment

Double Generation Birthday Again

2008-09-13T19:33:00.000-07:00

Three celebrations today:

1. Happy Birthday to Granny, JD's mom. Beautiful and wonderful and delightful person. I'm so blessed.

Jo Ann

2. The first great grand baby was born into JD's family today. Amanda, JD's niece, gave birth to Lathem Michael Ingrim at 7:11AM today weighing in at 7 lbs and 19 inches long. Well done Amanda. Welcome to the world little Lathem. (I don't have a picture yet.)

3. History repeats itself. JD was born 70 years later on the same day as his Great Grandfather, Daddy Wicks. Lathem was born 69 years later on the same day as his Great Grandmother, Granny.

Daddy Wicks and JD, 1966 (72 and 2 yrs old)

We are celebrating around here today. Happy Birth and Happy Birthday!

Remember

2008-09-11T07:13:00.001-07:00

We lived in Henderson, NV during this event. Our house was under the flight pattern for the international airport in Vegas. Open 24 hours a day, seven days a week, planes were ALWAYS flying over. It was something you got used to. Then they stopped. They stopped for many days. It was so quiet and sad and hopeless. Not that I ever liked the planes flying over our house but I was so grateful when they began again. It was a sign of hope. I will never forget.

Nothing is Sacred Anymore

2008-09-10T18:21:00.000-07:00

Natalie Dylan is going to auction off her virginity to finance some things in her life. For example she's getting her masters in Marriage and Family Therapy. She wants to finance the book she's writing on the same topic and then wants to open a private practice. The irony in that is almost too much to bear. Who needs the therapy here? WHAT THE CRAP???!!! SERIOUSLY? SERIOUSLY! She says on tonight's 6:00PM news, "I am an educated woman. I'm looking for intelligence and I'm looking for an overall nice person." Does she really think that any guy who's willing to buy her virginity is going to fall into the category of "nice person"? This isn't Indecent Proposal Natalie, you're not going to find Robert Redford out there.

So far the bid is at $275,000. BTW, this is not a new thing (just the first I've ever hear of it). Miss Natalie got this idea on the internet after watching some chick allegedly earn 1.5 million.

Which First?

2008-09-10T14:13:00.000-07:00

So I consider myself a person who knows how to clean. I grew up with the original Mrs. Clean....Jeannie (see post before this one) but I don't know the answer to this question.

Do you dust or vacuum first?

If you dust first you can sweep the dust from the top down from light fixtures to bottom shelves of book cases with a feather duster or even dust cloth, knowing the extra dust not caught in your dust gather of choice will fall to the ground to be picked up by the vacuum later. However, when you vacuum you are no doubt going to stir up the dust in the carpets and on the floor that will eventually settle from the bottom shelves of your bookcase to the tops of the light fixtures. So it makes sense to vacuum first but then there's the annoyance of walking on your vacuum cleaner lines in the carpet (I secretly love these) to go back and dust.

So seriously, which comes first the vacuum or the dust cloth? Thoughts....I'll take one and all.

Jeannie - A Tribute

2008-09-09T14:00:00.000-07:00

Jeannie Rose

There is a wonderful woman walking around on this planet. Her heart is larger than her body is allowed to contain so she's always giving pieces of it away hoping the receiver will care for it as the precious gift it is. She'll give you a piece if you asked, if you needed someone to love you, if you needed someone to care. She'll do whatever you need as she is a giver, a doer, a constant motion of task for the greater good of someone or something. She only rests enough to gather strength to do it again tomorrow. She knows no limit on how much is enough. If you need, she will give. If you ask, you will receive. And if you have the gift of her heart, you know it, you lean on it, you depend on it, it helps yours beat stronger, longer, louder....it is now a piece of your own and you can't imagine what you ever did before her gift of love.

She has a multitude of talents and gifts. One of her greatest gifts is tenaciousness. I've never seen her attempt something that she didn't succeed, then become an expert and then a teacher. I've also watched her just figure it out, do it herself, never to be hindered by gender, age, time, or doubt. If she wants something, there is little that will change her mind. Better to help or just get out of the way. She is a stubborn soul and expects excellence and truth, courage and bravery, compassion and kindness, strength and tenderness, faithfulness and commitment. She is a conquerer of challenge, a warrior for good, a determined peacemaker, a pillar of fortitude and perseverance, a steadfast source of wisdom and patience.

She was an employee with the utmost of ethics and dependability. She is the kindest of neighbors, the most loyal of friends, a loving and devoted daughter, a faithful sister, a dedicated wife, the very best of mothers, and the most generous of grandmothers. She is beautiful, loving, compassionate, warm, genuine and true. Her name is Jeannie but I call her Mom. Today she is 60. To me, she is one of the most beautiful women in the world.

Happy Birthday Mom. I love you with an unending love. You are my bright morning star.

"Neenie" with Colin (1 day old)

The Lizard Rescue

2008-09-08T20:04:00.000-07:00

You've seen a picture of my backyard (it's at the top of the blog now) so you know we back up to a golf course where lots of little critters are known to hang out. Lizards are among one of the plentiful creatures, Tumbleweed (our cat) is so pleased. I'm from the New Mexico desert so I'm not phased by lizards at all, have been known to catch them and play with them, watch them but mostly try save them from Tumbleweed if they're not too far gone. Tweed and I have been together over 13 years, that's LOTS of lizards. Remind me to tell you about the bunny rabbit some day (holy crap).

Anyway, while walking down the hallway, I saw this little guy. He wasn't running and I wasn't sure if he was alive. So I picked him up by the tail and got a better look and then he started to wiggle a little. I didn't want him to lose his tail and have to grow another all because of me so I put him back down. I couldn't decide if Tumbles had brought him in earlier and I missed it, if he came in on his own and had been trapped for a few days, or what but he had very little fight in him. So, I thought, let's see what Tweed thinks. Called for the cat, he came (he's really more like a dog in cat's fur). Had him check out the lizard, he batted it a few times and the lizard gave the same response of non-interest that he had given me. So decided best to gather him and take him outside. If it was going to die, I didn't want it to die in the house.

Then Colin got in on the action. He volunteered to kill it in a duel of Sword vs Tail, but again the lizard declined the invitation of flight or fight. He was content for me to just escort him to freedom. Which I did. Later I checked on my place of deposit and he was gone. One more lizard saved. Or eaten by a bird ... guess we'll never know.

Feed Me...Meeee TOO!

2008-09-08T07:18:00.000-07:00

Just a little amusement at Sea World.

Stand UP

2008-09-07T07:02:00.000-07:00

I watched the fund drive TV broadcast Friday night. I'm usually not one for sitting through these kinds of things....they make me feel guilty for being healthy, for being stingy, for being happy. Not to imply that I don't support the causes, it's just my heart can't take it. But I watched Stand Up 2 Cancer because it is very relevant to my life. I've lost three grandparents to cancer. I know friends who've lost people. My Dad is recovered from prostate cancer. My aunt is recovered from breast cancer. Also, anytime there's anything about a child suffering my heart can't bear it. It absolutely kills me to watch or listen to a story. And yet, even that has been relevant to my life recently. I feel like our families or families of close friends will be plagued again with the disease many times over in my life span, could even be me someday.

So I watched. While I watched I prayed for those people of whose stories they told, those families who've lost, those who've won against it. I prayed for the doctors who are so close to solving the mystery. I supported. I stood up.

There was one story about a boy who was four. His mother's testimony was about his heartbeat. How she heard it before he was ever born and how she held her hand on his heart and felt it stop. She said, "All he ever wanted was to be five." As I have a four year old. I can't even imagine the heart wrenching pain she must have felt and is still feeling. I stood up for her. I'm still standing.

Creation

2008-09-05T10:41:00.000-07:00

As we walked around Legoland I saw a couple of things that reminded me of some pictures I took while on a vacation in South Dakota. I thought it would be fun to compare.

A Bison in the Black Hills of South Dakota

The Bison at Legoland

Mt Rushmore at Legoland
Mt. Rushmore in SD

We are created. We create. We create with our creations. We create using creation.

Journey to the Center of Earth 3-D

2008-09-04T17:09:00.001-07:00

STRONG / WEAK IN A WAY

Colin talked me into going to a movie this afternoon. Just twisted my arm, let me tell you...not. We played movie roulette: where you go to the first movie starting that you haven't seen yet. I wasn't even sure there would be a movie available for Colin to see but I promised we would try. Sure enough, Journey to the Center of the Earth 3-D was playing in 20 minutes. Great!

Got our glasses, and treats and found a seat. BTW, on a Thursday afternoon before school gets out, there ain't NOBODY at the movies.

So, after the movie, I gave it a strong/weak in a way. They did great keeping the unnecessary language out - can't remember any as a matter of fact. Did a good job with the 3-D stuff. Very cool special effects. Story moved along and all had fun. It's weakness was supporting actors to the lead three and the story itself but overall, I think it accomplished what it was designed to do. Colin loved it.

I decided to go ahead and give you my thoughts if I see a movie instead of just posting the rating. You'll find the description of the ratings on the side. This way, everyone can give their thoughts if they've seen the movie or read the book. Seems like more fun that way for everyone.

Stinkin' Funny

2008-09-03T15:09:00.001-07:00

The following story falls under the category "TMI" so consider yourself warned. But because it is one of the most hilarious moments in my marriage, it bears revealing. Those of you who love me will still hopefully love me and those of you who can't decide, well this may or may not help you make a decision. I'll not hold against you either way. For me, it won't matter because it is what it is and I can't really do anything about it and there in lies the problem.

Indeed a problem. We all have this bodily function but some people have a polite version and others fall into the vial category. I would definitely be in the later (according to my sweet husband). It's been an ongoing problem all my life and since the pregnancy / birth of my child it has become measurably more frequent, increased volume, decreased control, and heightened odor. Basically, I really can't help it, even when I try.

Diagnosis: flatulence - noun

1. intestinal, gas, wind; informal farting, tooting, formal flatus

Even when all is working as "regular" as it gets (which is once a day if I'm lucky) it requires attention to diet, exercise, water intake, junk intake at a minimum, just the right amount of fiber but not too much, etc. So after being on vacation for three days, one of those spent in the car driving, eating all kinds of junk because we're away from home and "on vacation", too many McDonald's stops, too much diet soda, too much everything; you can imagine how my system might be having a fit. The day of the incident, my mom had cooked a meal of fresh vegetables from the garden: cream corn, corn on the cob, fried okra, fresh tomatoes and corn bread followed by birthday cake and a couple of beers. My tummy was in bad shape. Let's just say it was rotten inside and an explosion was around the corner although unfortunately, never at my request.

All evening I had been letting them out when I could in as much privacy as possible. I knew I was rotten inside. Dying to poop but to no avail until my body says so. Plus, who of you can poop in a strange potty? It's a mental thing on top of a tummy thing. Pitiful! So as we're getting in the car to load up and go back to the hotel, I'm getting Colin in his car seat and I let one slide thinking I'm outside, everyone's inside, good time right? Wrong! My husband has the nose of a dog. He can smell things that most humans don't smell and if it is a pungent smell, you'll know it by his face. I'm buckling Colin in thinking I've pulled that one off and JD's face scrunches up and he looks at me and says, "Did you toot?" Ever the polite one. I admitted my sin. He knows. I can't lie out of that one. Even Colin's toots smell like roses compared to mine. I knew they were bad. This one went outside then it floated in the car and decided to sit a moment under JD's nose before it dissipated. I said, "Sorry. I know. I'm rotten inside."

We get back to the hotel, everyone goes to bed. Colin is asleep. I'm asleep, JD is reading his book. All of a sudden I hear JD groan and move. This wakes me a little and I roll over and there is my husband standing as far against the wall as he can (1.5 feet - we're in a hotel room) with his book in front of him with a face like I've never seen. Truly, I can't smell anything so I'm not sure what the deal is. He says to me with all seriousness (there is no humor or forgiveness in his words or tone): BTW, he didn't let me get a word in...

"This has to stop! This is bad. You can't do this. What needs to happen here? Do I need to get another room because I can't handle this. Isn't there something you can take for that? Do you want me to go to CVS and get you something? Do you need to potty? (I swear, he said potty) Do you think you can concentrate and not do that anymore? I mean for crying out loud, it's really bad!!!" I said, "I'm sorry!" JD reluctantly got back into the bed. Tucks me in so there is a barrier between us of bed linens and pillows and turns his back with a groan of disbelief.

That night, I promise I dreamt about going to the doctor and told him that my husband was going to divorce me if I didn't do something about my flatulence. I guess I was successful in my concentrating on not tooting anymore because JD thanked me the next morning.

During the vacation I was always up and ready before the boys and I would go to the lobby and read while they slept. The next morning after my reprimand I was getting ready and my feelings were really hurt over the whole thing. I mean seriously, it's not something I do on purpose. I wish I had a perfect body that didn't have gas, could poop whenever I wanted, pooped 2 or 3 times a day and had shit that didn't stink but I don't. I fumed over this in the shower and then I went and had coffee and breakfast.

When I came back in, my coffee kicked in and it kicked in with a vengeance. As I sat and my body did what it should've been doing for the past three days, I began to feel compassion for my husband and his predicament. The stench was unbearable. I gave myself three courtesy flushes. And finally the humor of it replaced my hurt feelings. I was hiding my face in a towel laughing to the point of tears remembering my husband standing as far away as he could begging for relief from the endless torture of my flatulence.

The Dunes

2008-09-03T06:51:00.000-07:00

While driving on vacation from Tuscan to San Diego there were a few interesting sites out the window. We would have to get Colin's attention to look because for the most part he was watching his DVD player. By the way, can I just say, "Thank you God for portable DVD players." Whatever did we do without them? Oh, yea, I remember. We got to move around in the car when we were kids, you played, you could sleep across the back seat, lie in the back window, fight over the hump in the floorboard, etc. It was a small play pen but at least you move around in it.

Anyway, we passed some sand dunes and we got Colin's attention and he thought they were cool.

Later we passed this and Colin said, "Look, rock dunes."

Of course they are.

Legoland

2008-09-02T06:52:00.000-07:00

Colin has asked me several times in the last year, "Have I ever been to Legoland?" I find that funny but I think even now he realizes that we humans forget stuff. He's knows his Mommy does. So I tell him, "No, you've not been but we will go soon. Promise!" So as promised, we took him for his fourth birthday. Seemed like a perfect present. I think he agreed.

So when we got there, I expected stuff to be made of legos of course but I had no idea the detail and replica that would take place. As a kid there's a window from about 3 to 9 of enjoyment and fatasticness that will soon fade after 9 but as an adult, I could've looked at the statues, I guess you call them, for hours. JD and I were both disappointed we didn't have more time in "Miniland" where they've built New York, Las Vegas, San Francisco and more. So, if you're past age 9 and you're curious, it's worth the bucks to go and marvel at the ability to create such things with little plastic bricks. The three roller coasters aren't bad either if you're in the mindset of a 5 year old. Even if you've never played with legos in your whole life, you'll be amazed and possibly even enticed to sit and build something.

You can't imagine the details from these pictures but truly, don't you think this looks just like Harrison? This is not made from clay or stone...we're talking little legos here. Amazing.

PIMA Air and Space Museum

2008-09-01T09:21:00.001-07:00

We're back from vacation. We were gone just over a week. We did a little triangle in the car from Simi Valley to Phoenix to Tuscan to San Diego and back home. Had a good time and have many pics from the trip. I'll share them and stories a little at a time so as not to completely bore the reader.

While in Tuscan we went to the Pima Air and Space Museum where we saw every kind of air plane ever made. It was quite something. We went with my Dad who found it all very interesting as did JD and Colin. It was amazing to track the journey of flight from the Wright Brothers to the Black Bird, which by the way can fly from Tuscan to Phoenix in 3 minutes. It takes 1.5 hours to drive. We saw Amelia Earhart's plane that she retired when she was 90 years old, the Guppy used to haul equipment for NASA, Air Force One for JFK and LBJ, the B-17 from WWII, and so much more. It was overwhelming.

Colin sat in several kid-friendly planes and pretended to be a pilot. The lighting in the video is too dark to see his face but if you can imagine from the picture, this was a priceless moment:

At least he listens to the Tram guy at Disneyland. Sort of...

Such a Small Thing

2008-08-19T20:50:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of a piece of peanut Colin found tonight in his ice-cream sprinkles (always ordered "on the side"). The last time there was a trace of nut in something from an ice-cream shop he accidently ate it and we had to administer an Epi pen and spent a couple hours in the ER. Based on that experience, Colin has a heightened sense of look-out that tops even his parents. There he is happily eating his sprinkles and he pulls out this little nut and says, "Look! I found a nut!" I examined it and praised my child for being so smart and so alert. This tiny little piece of nut, such a small thing, could literally kill my child. I stand amazed and grateful for this time of grace (again!). Our lives are so fragile. Our time is so uncertain. Our care for our own humanity is so truly careless.

"Alottastuff"

2008-08-17T07:41:00.000-07:00

If you read my blog at all, you know that I know that I have too much stuff. Let me give you a brief summary. JD and I married late in life. We combined two entire households. When we first married we have 14 wooden spoons, 2 coffee pots, 2 toasters, 6 9x13 pans, 3 sets of silverware, 2 sets of dishes and pots and pans, three beds, 5 couches, etc. But we also bought a new big house together and it all fit. We got rid of some things but for the most part, we just found a place to put it all. We were married 4 years and through those years bought more, then we had a kid and it is difficult to measure the amount of "stuff" that comes with one of those. Then we moved from Las Vegas to Dallas. We didn't downsize but instead increased our living space by 1000 square feet. We were under the sickness of needing to fill that space too and instead of getting rid of anything we got more. Then we are called to CA where we had to downsize 2000 square feet. We had a huge~!!~ garage sale and I thought we got rid of a lot of stuff until we tried to "fit" into the little house in CA and I realized that no, we didn't have a lot of stuff, we instead had a ridiculous mountain of crap. Over a year we got rid of more and more in order to fit a car into the garage. We rented some storage and got things under control. Then we just moved and again, we arrived at the house, organized and found more things that didn't need. We were burdened with stuff so we had two different piles taken away by charity and had a garage sale and got rid of more. We are now down to a normal level of crap and the storage. I'm going to have another garage sale and get rid of it all. But in the end, I know we will still have a lot of stuff.

Recently, a lot of people I know have moved, including us. One of my pals just moved into her brand new house and has commented on the amount of kitchen stuff she has and didn't realize she had and wondered where it all came from and is probably wondering where it all is going to go. Another friend just moved and her kitchen in the new place is significantly smaller where storage is concerned over her last place and is in the dilemma of what to do with the rest of the stuff. She and her husband are realizing that they have a lot of stuff as they are trying to reconfigure their lives into a new house.

It's a common disease of Americans that I now call "Alottastuff". Everyone's got some of it. There are stages like cancer. There are also a lot of people who don't realize they have it but enjoy giving others a hard time about theirs. For example, when JD and I moved into the current house, our neighbors across the street were watching because that's what you do when new people arrive into your territory, you watch them to see how weird they're going to be. In a conversation with the husband of this couple he said to me, "Saw ya move in. You guys got a lotta stuff." Really!? I of course didn't say what I was thinking but said, "I know. We're learning to downsize but we've had to learn in stages. Came from Dallas...blah blah blah". He said, "Oh, yeah, we've lived here over 14 years." This is what I was thinking but didn't say, "You think I have Alottastuff? You're the pot calling the kettle black. Have you looked around your house lately? You, my friend are going to die from Alottastuff if you're not careful." I happen to be in the entryway of their house borrowing some baking soda for a cake I was making (the @**#% friendship bread).

Then another neighbor who was doing a handyman job for me commented again. "Boy, you guys have a lot of stuff". Classic. This guy just had his first kid. He has no idea the "stuff" he's about to have in his life and house. Wanted to tell this guy, "You just wait pal. Just wait until you realize the stage of Alottastuff you have. Then we'll talk!

My point? Not really sure other than I'm tired of people telling me I have Alottastuff when they have no idea about their own. Take the plank out of your own eye before you comment on the speck in mine! We all got it. And if you think you don't, here's a criterion for you to measure your stage of Alottastuff.

Just got out of college - stage 1

Just got married the first time - stage 2

Just got married the second time - stage 4

Just moved from an apartment to a house - stage 2

Just had your first kid - stage 3

Lived in a house more than one year - stage 2

Lived in a house more than 5 years - stage 3

Lived in a house more than 10 years - stage 4 (there is no stage 5)

If you're sentimental about your crap - stage 4

If you can't throw stuff out because "you might need it some day" - stage 4

If you redecorate often - stage 4

If you have off-site storage - stage 3 or 4 depending on the size of storage

If you have a garage but can't fit a car in - stage 4

If you work from home - stage 4

If you're a pile person - stage 4

If you spill from the master closet into the guest closet - stage 3 or 4

If you own more than 100 pair of shoes - stage 4

If you have a hobby - stage 3 or 4

If you live in over 500 sq ft - stage 2 or higher

If you have more than one vehicle in your family - stage 3 or 4

If you have more than one child - stage 3 or 4

If you have grandchildren - stage 4

If you can combine any of the above - stage 4

You got it. Admit it. You're plagued with the disease Alottastuff. Searching for a cure. Maybe I'll start a support group. In the meantime. Get rid of some stuff people. It feels good. If you don't know where to start, try moving. That'll reveal your stage of disease, I guarantee it. Hi, my name is Celeste Cunningham and I have Alottastuff.

Mom, where's my....?

2008-08-16T19:06:00.000-07:00

I have a husband and I have a son. They are of the same breed of most family members in America where they know the Mom knows and if she doesn't know then no one knows. I hear this phrase more than any other: "Mom (or Sugie) where's my ....?" It fascinates me on two accounts. One, that they think I know where the misplaced item is, and two; that I almost always do. I attribute this incredible knowledge of the location of all things to the fact that I'm usually the one that put it where ever it is. But even if I didn't, I have (as all mothers do) the ability to observe the household as a living breathing thing that keeps its occupants' things like secrets. Therefore, I have a pulse on the house and all things in it, hence, I typically know the answer to the question, "Mom, where's my....?" I also have an instinct of where one of my boys will have usually put something down without realizing it and then later wonder where it went and regardless of where that is, they know Mom will know if asked.

Today, Colin had a juice cup with white grape juice in it. He of course had laid it down somewhere and decided that he was thirsty and asked for more. The following was the conversation:

Colin: Mom, can I have more juice?

Me: Where's your cup?

Colin: I don't know.

Me: You're going to need your cup for more juice.

Colin: I'll get another one.

Me: No, find the one you just had. I believe it's blue.

Colin: It's lost.

Me: It's probably in your play room.

Colin: No, it's lost.

Me: Go look for it.

Colin: You find it. It's lost.

Me: What do I get if I find it?

Colin: The cup!

The Great Water Battle

2008-08-15T07:20:00.000-07:00

It's innate. Born in them. They just know. To fight. To protect. To battle. To explore. To adventure. Boys need no teacher. They just know and every time I get a demonstration of it I marvel. I love that I have a boy. I'm a girl and grew up with a bunch of sisters so watching a boy be a boy makes me laugh out loud with joy.

Colin is a warrior. He is enamored with super heros, the bad and the good, weapons, fighting and battles. Everything can be a gun or a sword. Action figures are cool. The latest spy gear toys fished from the endless McDonald's happy meal plastic river of paraphernalia is high on his list of cool things that have to be in the "take with us" bag. If we go to Disneyland he wants a gun or "light saver" from the Star Wars collection. The child has only seen 15 minutes of one of the six episodes. He has no idea who any of these people are or he at least didn't until we went to the Jedi Training Class in Tomorrowland. Now he's very aware of Darth, Storm Troopers, Jedi Knights, and that ugly red and black dude. Thank you Disney. Thank you very much! UGGG! Anyway he wants the gear so he can shoot bad guys. Just the other day I said in my rare sweet tone, "Get in the car baby, we need to go." He retorted with great authority, "I'm not a "baby", I'm a super hero!" Of course you are, let me rephrase, "Get in the car super hero!"

Anyway, this latest trip to Disneyland I watched my son fight a battle. He was extremely serious about this battle and at the same time I watched the element of surprise cause great glee. He fought, chopped, karate kicked, stabbed, sliced, and destroyed the spitting water fountain in the bug's life section of California Adventure. The water became the enemy and he was there to fight. It was a water battle as ferrous as a white squall.

Take that!

And That!

Gotcha!

I Fight Water!

I WIN!

Little Ducklings

2008-08-12T07:02:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I had the privilege of knowing what it might feel like to have twins. Tanner and Colin (only 4 mo apart) were together all day as Tanner's parents and sibling were out doing the tourist thing in Hollywood. Knowing Tanner would be bored out of his mind I suggested the little kids stay with me and we would do some fun things and make dinner for the group when they got home.

Now I've never kept Tanner so although he was okay with the idea, he was leary of me. He's seen my military approach to discipline and knows deep down that I don't put up with much crap. But I promised we would have a fun day and he and Colin would have a great time. And I know that all kids are better for other adults than they are for their own parents so I expected Tanner to have a perfect day. I was right.

Tan and Colin played perfectly together. We went to the grocery store. They ran around and I shopped for dinner needs. We also picked up some Cherrios to feed to the ducks. While at the deli counter, the man asked, "How old are they?" I said, 3 1/2 and 4. He looked at them, looked at me and then with compassion in his eyes said, "You have a nice day Miss." I said thanks and was happy he didn't feel the need to call me "Mam".

The next stop was the duck pond / play ground. They had a ball feeding the ducks. It was so fun to watch. They played on the playground stuff, etc. We went to McDonald's for lunch and played some more on the air conditioned play ground and they climbed and climbed. Played hide and seek with the other kids. Ate all their lunches. Never once fought or complained. So for that, I drove across the street to the 99 cents store. Told them they could have two things each. Had to talk Colin out of a kitchen timer that I was pretty sure wasn't working properly and was not a toy. Then we came home and they played and played some more. Ended the day in the bathtub and soaked the floor (good opportunity to get it cleaned) and went to bed tired, full and happy.

It was a good day. Had fun with two little ducklings trailing behind all day.

Hanged

2008-08-09T06:44:00.000-07:00

About 2 years or less ago JD and I were discussing how his T-shirts were getting stretched out by hanging on wire hangers and plastic hangers and a miscellaneous collection that for the most part just pissed me off and looked cheap. We had a variety of hangers but mostly our clothes were hung on wire hangers. Mommy Dearest would've shat her panties. Also, important to the story, I don't fold anything that will eventually have to be ironed in order to be worn, so since JD's main wardrobe is jeans and t-shirts, I iron and hang everything as it comes out of the dyer. I don't like to iron everyday, I like to get it done once and move on. (We can talk about my need for therapy later.) Anyway, one day while in Home Depot I spotted wooden hangers and wondered if those might preserve both the t-shirt quality and my ironing. I purchased many and took them home excited to try my idea.

A week or so went by and I felt that the hangers were doing their job as I was keeping my eye on two or three troublesome tees. They were staying in place and the way the wooden hanger was made, kept them in a better position to preserve the neck line as well as the shoulders. Another thing was all the shirts hung at the same level and actually looked cool. You were also able to finally see everything you had without moving the shirts through an assembly line because they hung too close together. It looked like something out of a magazine or some closet store ad or The Container store pics. I was hooked or in this case, hanged. I decided I was going to transfer the entire closet.

You should be coughing a little. This was not a cheap transformation. This was a major expense. Each hanger works out to be about fifty cents. But I tell you, when the job was complete and I walked into my closet it made my heart happy! I already color coded and hung each item the same way, by category, all ironed and neat but when they were on the wooden hangers, hanging at the exact same level, very little could top such beauty. Mommy Dearest would've been proud!

Fast forward to about six months ago. My friend decided she needed to do the same to her closet to, get this, "help sell the house" that was about to go on the market. Her husband points out, "as if!" but he complied with her wishes and she also transformed her closet. Then she moved, here. This was first of June. Her closet here is all wooden hangers, looking pretty, etc.

So, last night, her family and another family from out of town visiting, were at our house for a cook-out, fire-pit, summer night of fun. As it came time to light up the fire pit to have our dessert of smores, it occurred to me, as JD asked if we have anything to roast the marshmallows on, that we have no wire hangers. We have nothing of the kind. "NO MORE WIRE HANGERS!" I had sworn them off forever. The discussion went on of what to do, my friend's house was obviously of no good. Then the out-of-town guest asked, "Don't any of you people ever go to the cleaners?" I love it when the obvious is spoken. Now remember that in my house the wardrobe requirement for JD's job is jeans, tees, and flip flops. So, no actually, we don't go to a cleaners. I am the cleaners. But my friend is reminded of a handful of dress-shirts that her husband used to wear everyday and were professionally dry-cleaned and that were still on the beloved and coveted wire hangers. I say used to wear because he now has the same kind of job where his wardrobe consists of jeans, tees and shoe of choice. So these particular shirts were picked up, packed, moved, unpacked, hung in the closet and promptly forgotten about. Also, I must mention in defense of my friend who spent unnecessary money to make the closet look good in order to "help sell the house," her husband now appreciates the preservedness of his tees on the wooden hangers.

Saved. The kids could have their smores. So could the adults for that matter. The evening not lost.

The moral of the story? Other than roasting something over a fire or unlocking a car door from the 1960's, I cannot think of a good use for wire hangers. So if you decide to transform your closet and rid yourself of all wire hangers, this is a little note to keep a few of the wire hangers in the back of your closet for those "just in cases" so as not to get hanged at a dinner party.

So You Think You Can Dance

2008-08-02T07:06:00.000-07:00

If by some chance you have happened to check to see if I'm still alive, I am. Instead of a monologue of where I've been (I'll do that later), I thought it would be more fun for you to see this....

TV does and will have a great influence on your children. Be careful what you let them watch. Due to SYTYCD, my child thinks so indeed. Using his American Idol toy from McDonald's that's at least two years old, he does "his moves" for me on camera.

Happy Independence

2008-07-05T19:19:00.000-07:00

We celebrated the fourth of July with friends and family. Granny and Pop were here and we invited over the Crumrines. JD broke in the new grill. The kids had a great time on their pirate ship and we ate well and watched a magnificent show of fireworks.

I was grateful to be an American. To have the freedom to pray before our meal, to gather together, to come and go in safety. I was mindful of the men and women who have in the past and are currently defending the right of freedom. Thankful that they are willing to preserve, at whatever the cost, what we all hold dear.

It was a great day. It's a great country. Thank God and to Him be the glory!

Overflowing Friendship

2008-06-29T19:09:00.000-07:00

Colin and I were at our friend's house and her daughter was making Amish Friendship Bread. The smell waffed from the kitchen to the back patio and it smelled delightful. When the bread was done she brought it out to share. It was so pretty and perfect. If it tasted half as good as it looked it was going to be great. It did indeed. We ate more than our portion sitting on the patio. So as we raved about it, it was explained how it's made and that it is a process. As you make it, you create "starters" for other friends to make it, then they make starters etc. You keep one for yourself and I suppose the idea is that you always have the bread or at least the option in about 10 days.

So, my friend's daughter gave Colin a starter to the bread. In other words, JD brought me a bag of stuff with instructions and since it was from our friends I felt obligated to follow it through. It takes 10 days to make it from the starter. I'm not sure how exactly you start a starter and frankly, I don't really care. Because today, I made the bread and it was a complete DISASTER. 99% of it was because I didn't read the instructions carefully enough to get past the very important typo that caused the other 1% of the disaster. I should never try to cook when I'm tired, especially something new. Now I'm thinking surly it wouldn't have hurt the process to delay the bread making one more day.

Basically, the recipe will make TWO loaves each time you complete the 10 days. I didn't read that part until it was too late. Until AFTER I had forced all the batter into one loaf pan, put in the oven and discovered the beginnings of the stalagmite/stalactite formation. Instead of a pretty loaf of friendship bread I have a something that looks like a creation at Carlsbad Caverns in my oven, I'm not sure what to do with it or have any idea of how to get it out, or if it will taste right. The friendship has overflowed into my oven that will now need to be cleaned. Wonder if my friend who gave the bag of stuff will come over and help with that. Now that would really be friendship.

Regardless of the shape and taste of the thing, it did make my whole house smell wonderful. I did get it out and it has the consistency of pound cake instead of bread. Colin bravely took a bite and seems fine with the stuff, so all is not lost. Starters anyone? Makes 2 loaves of bread.

Spiderman....He's returned

2008-06-28T17:57:00.000-07:00

Spidey's back. Remember the Spiderman / Super Colin last year for Halloween. I thought he was so over Spiderman, but I was wrong! Out of the blue today after JD left for work, Colin asked for his Spiderman Costume that's been hanging in his playroom closet. I got it down. He wanted it on, all of it, hood, gloves, suit. I obliged expecting this to last only a few seconds.

After he was dressed he said,

"You can call me Spiderman."

"Okay Sugie."

"No, I said, call me Spiderman."

"Right. Okay Spiderman."

He's now had on the suit for hours. I encouraged him to "climb" on his gym outside and shoot me a web for my picture. Could I have asked for anything better than this?