Eight more weeks

There are only eight more weeks of school for the 2010-2011 school year. 

The days are long but the years are short. 

I am not sure where the entire school year went.  All I know is that I have been in a fog since my little "little" was born on the first day of school. 

The year has gone something like this:

Lost uniform jumper.  Not sure how that happened nor am I sure why it was removed in public??

Ruined uniform sweater.  One thread unraveled into a ball of yarn.

Lost shoes.  In the home or outside of the home?  That is the question.  And how?

Forgotten lunches.  Actually they were never made.

Eaten homework.  This is accurate.  Baby likes paper.  So do cats.

Tardiness.  The keys were missing.  Among other lame excuses.

Laundry.  In a lot of little piles all over the house.  

Clean laundry.  In a lot of little piles all over the house -- may be confused with the dirty piles?!

Meals.  Pretending to have "backwards days" so that we can have 'Cheerios' for dinner (sans guilt).

Chaos.  Always.

Broken things.  Frequently.

Smiles.  Always.

Laughter.  Priceless. 

More Flavors of Fall!

PS  Thank you C.C. for adding cupcakes and callas to our flavors of fall

Autumn in Texas is usually a late bloomer.  It arrives in October.  At first, it is felt only in the early mornings and late evenings when the temperature is perfectly set at 72 degrees.  The leaves begin to change colors slowly and a few fall off the trees; just enough to say "It's Fall".    The afternoon highs of 86 degrees shout that "It's Still Summer"... but the heat does not stick around for long. 

Evening walks.

Crunching leaves that sound like Cornflakes.

Morning stroller rides.

Clear skies.

Crisp breezes.

Happy thoughts.

Serene moments.

Everything seems a little bit brighter.  Sharper.  In Focus. 

I love Fall.

It's alright, It's okay Mondays

It's alright, It's okay


... to pluck your gray hairs (wherever they may be?!)

 ... to have a body distortion issue (these jeans aren't tight, it's the new style)

... to have rubbing thighs once in a lifetime

... to be grandiose and think you are "wonder woman"

... to think riding 6 miles on a bike is a BIG deal

... to have toys strewn all over a dirty house

... to love watermelon with a fork and not your hands

... to suck at air hockey

It's alright, It's okay Mondays

It's alright, It's okay

... to ignore the "check engine" light

... to read an owner's manual six years later

... to peruse a cookbook and decide on "pizza" anyway

... to leave dog "whoopdies" for your husband to clean up and claim "it just happened"

... to dislike hotdogs

... to skip ironing for a week

... to pretend to be busy

... to learn to take a little rest with your eyes open

It's alright, It's okay Mondays

It's alright, It's okay

... to appear in public with your child's vomit wiped on your yoga pants

... to wear a black shirt with obvious wet spit-up

... to like tofu

... to eat real burgers

... to visit the beach and complain about sand in your "drawers"

... to name a lower bodily function; a "fluffy"

... to refer to slow recall items as "whatchamacallits"

... to eat pancakes for dinner

21 days

60 days of summer vacation have already vanished.  Just like that, they are gone. 

OCD.

I have this eccentric habit of counting... as I may have mentioned before, seven times.  Ceiling tiles in a waiting room.  Floor tiles in an examination room.  Stairs.  Who needs a pedometer?  Days.  Hours.  Countdowns.  Trees.  Flowers.  Stepping Stones. 

We have had fun days.  We have had lazy days.  Family days.  Zoo days.  Aquarium days.  Museum days.  Lunch days.  Picnic days.  Swimming days.  Playdate days.  Birthday party days.  Drive-in nights. 

We have NOT had a "real" vacation ... by "real" I mean like leave the city, metroplex, state, region, country kind of vacation. 

My children are beginning to panic awaiting the first day of school in which they are required to write about their summer vacation using adjectives and other colorful descriptions.  They are aware of the stiff vacation competition.  The show-offs.  The bullies.  The wannabe's.  The imposters.  The pretenders.  The Vlasic Pickle children. 

I feel for them.

"My Summer Recap as told by V"

"Being pregnant and adding a baby to the house does not make for a fun summer vacation.  Vomiting, bed rest, bodily changes that nobody discusses, baby crying, smelly diapers, no sleep, foggy brains, forgetful moments, grumpy people, and other things that I cannot talk about in public. 

But my family is planning on a trip to Ravenna, Italy in May, so I will be absent.  And I don't really care about the attendance.  Besides, maybe we'll travel south to Rome and I'll be excused, pardoned, and forgiven by the Pope."

PS  I hope the principal doesn't call me on this "yarn". 
PPS  Perhaps V's Summer Vacation will be used in a Birth Control Pamphlet.
PPPS  Planned Parenthood is on the phone now... gotta go!

concepts of life

Recently, I have been completely and totally off-schedule.  That is, IF I actually HAD a schedule.  I would have been completely OFF. 

My husband has been home on vacation.  And since I currently cannot travel outside of a twenty mile radius, we had a staycation at home.  Inside our home.  Not downtown at a bed and breakfast.  Not in the country.  I think I will travel to the Maldives when my ten months/280 days are up.  ALONE. 

I am on the verge of NESTING.  But I cannot seem to find the time to NEST.  Because I am too busy cleaning up after several people.  Because I am preoccupied with cooking three meals a day AND for some reason, cereal and chicken nuggets are not a part of this world.  Because I am on bedrest AND I am so NOT complaining. 

So, hubby is NESTING for me with projects that have been written in ink (or blood) on his "Honey-Do" list for two years and two months (NOT that I am actually counting!).  

He is returning to work after a long stay-cay.  And on Sunday -- the eve of his return to working and cubicles and offices and computers and meetings and some other technical analytical words in his world -- he announces, "This will be a sad day when it ends".

I was thinking aloud AGAIN and I accidentally responded, "NOT for some of us". 

OOPS.

I am really looking forward to my inpatient hospital stay.  Maybe I can stay longer?!

OOPS, again.

a 4th recap

patriotic painting, parades, pirate's booty (candy loot), sparklers, glowrings, snakes, and fireworks!

a summer fix

SISTERS

A day spent in the sun with old-fashioned fun;  the "slip-n-slide".  Slurping colorful popcicles before they melt into a puddle of rainbow colors.   Sticky hands rinsing away under a green hose.  Laughter echoing in the yard.  Smiles as wide as a dualie. 

(and yes, I have lived in the south for a long time... and I just learned the definition of a dualie.  in fact, I believe I just saw my first one!  never even noticed them before!  dualies seem to be everywhere.)

A great read for sisters:  "Sisters" by David McPhail

PS please follow the enclosed directions and pick up the slip-n-slide when the water is turned off... or else your hubby will come home to a 16 FOOT BURNT PIECE OF GRASS.  BROWN as DEAD.  DEAD as a Doornail.  And the laughter will all be a distant memory!!

A+ for Recycling

ASSIGNMENT:  create something from the Recycle Box and the Junk Drawer.

The results:  a trash-talking-cat

The girls enjoyed minutes of entertainment on this drizzly, rainy day.

PS: the youngest drinks "hot chalky" every morning... regardless of the outdoor and indoor temperature.  Completely unaware that the thermostat registers 91 degrees at 8:45 am.

PPS: Trash Cat has become part of the family.  Trash Cat even took a trip to Target.  A stroll in the stroller.  And Trash Cat has its own seat at the dinner table. 

PPPS:  I am hoping to give Trash Cat back to the recycle bin before trash pick up on Wednesday.

...one of those weeks...

I found a pill.

A self-medicating pill.

Brilliant!

How many can I take in a day?

Child A still on crutches

Child B still sporting dry ringy patches that will stick around for 30 days

Child C still blotchy, yet no longer contagious

Dog A still making messes

Dog B joining in

Cat A moved onto mice (thank you neighbors)

Cat B has tapeworms

Mommy A has restless leg syndrome

insomnia

extreme heartburn (will baby have hair or no hair?)

anxiety

gestational diabetes

placenta previa

and, oh yeah, a very long "to-do" list

Daddy A is MIA (lucky man!)

Nanny still on vacation (hopefully, not permanently!)

Maid still inconsistent this week... what day are you coming??

Contractor still cannot remember who we are

Lawn guy still late (the rain... he's forgiven)

Dishwasher has same vile smell as washing machine (coincidence?)

Compost pile still wilting and maggoting

So far, I have taken 3 tablets to start the day!

twinkle twinkle

There are little fireflies that light up our front yard every night.

We spray ourselves with 'OFF',

The girls grab the nets,

And an empty jar with holes in the lid.

We stand watch on the front porch,

waiting to spot the first firefly near the oak trees.

Firefly Light

Firefly Bright

The first Firefly I see tonight

I wish I may, I wish I might

Have the wish, I wish tonight

We catch fireflies and place them in our jar.

The release of the fireflies occurs in the backyard,

so that our yard becomes full of twinkling lights.

The release of fireflies is like watching 'fireworks'.

The fireflies fly up into the night sky,

releasing their TWINKLE.

We make our wishes!

We hope your firefly wishes come true, too!

cats for sale

actually, you would return them because they are on the high maintenance end of felineness.  and I would not put any unsuspecting victim through the rigamarole that we endure on a daily basis --

so,

cats for rental ...

guaranteed to catch any critter that needs capturing in your home or yard

guaranteed to eat uninvited insects

guaranteed to be low maintenance for a short amount of time

guaranteed to perform properly and adequately

guaranteed to return to our home

ps... don't let their adoring furry feline faces deceive you

pps... the tennis ball is for me.  and parking.  and a guarantee that I stop. 

Happy Memorial Day!

A new kind of holiday: 

In memory of busy mommies everywhere... Happy Memorial Day!

Mother's Day is just NOT enough!

And a big memorial thank you to all the men and women who have served in the military and died while in service.  We appreciate you!

on names and naming

Names, names, names

This is where I am at... and completely STUCK.  I need a name.  I need a girl name.  I am having a rather difficult time with this task.  And, honestly, I am not sure why?!  There are plenty of girl names available... I only have six taken (three first and three middle -- including mine).

Recently, I purchased a new baby-namer book.   Because this one touted "60,000" names!  And surely, I hadn't heard them all yet. There has to be ONE in there that will jump out at me and say "PICK ME". Let's divide gender in half -- leaving me with "30,000" available names.   Minus our home, our siblings, our nieces and nephews, our first cousins, our second cousins, our exes -- 76.  Times two for the middle names = 152.  I now have "29,848" names to peruse.

Possibly, I am making this task way too difficult. 
     1.  Just select a name you LOVE.

My preferences are odd, I admit, but this is a baby's name we are talking about.
     1.  three syllables
     2.  ends in -a
     3.  non-ethnic
     4.  not overused
     5.  does not begin with ch- or d- or v- or p-
     6.  no more than 5000 already named women in the social security database
     7.  not a common name in our state
     8.  no more than 5 already named girls in my girls' school directory
     9.  does not end in -ina (-eena)
    10.  no provoked nicknames as a result
    11.  no shortened agendas
    12.  flowing
    13.  sentimental
    14.  meaningful
    15.  could be a place name, hotel name, church name, cigarette brand, etc...
    16.  a Saint's name is a plus
    17.  a name day in Eastern European culture
    18.  able to pronounce name in many languages, specifically Japanese
    19.  my husband must like the name
    20.  must be able to pronounce the name

ARGHHH!

Good Luck!

saturday morning fun

Saturday morning soccer games are better than cartoons and anime!

"Tickled Pink" is the name of the game. 

BUT ....

Why isn't the concession stand selling beer?  Big plastic cups of beer on tap.  I believe there would be a lot more spectators.  And the fields would be really green with all that extra beer income. 

Save Soccer, Drink Beer.

A great place to visit

If you ever get the chance to go to Missouri

Take it from me, go in a hurry

You'll have fun at the top of the arch

Quench your thirst before you parch

at any quaint pub or chain restaurant you desire

go to the "City Museum" for a dire

dose of family fun!

A great place to bring the whole family!

I highly recommend a weekend visit to St. Louis
(unless your in-laws reside there)!

http://www.citymuseum.org/

http://www.explorestlouis.com/

three-story recycled slide at the City Museum

The Snooze Button

I am queen of the snooze button on my fourteen year old clock-radio combo.  Remember those?  Actually, I set three different morning alarms:  5:46am; 6:11am; 6:27am.  And then I quickly slap the snooze button.  Or the sleep button, as it may be called.  The button that lets you continue sleeping for exactly seven more minutes. 

Except for this morning:

I woke up to a mysteriously new radio station.  I am not sure who was playing with the dials, but I am glad they did.

I woke up and I thought I was 21 years old -- all over again.  I have this whole Saturday ahead of me... with no concrete plans... just ME... just 24 hours of no lists, no schedules, no appointments, no work, no classes... just ME. 

I reached over with one hand and instead of slamming the snooze button, I rotated the volume button: UP HIGH!

I jumped out of bed.  Shocked by my flannel pajama donned appearance and baggy sweatshirt.  Not quite what a 21 year old would wear.  But I did jump up and start dancing.  The kind of dancing from the "dance club" stage.  I danced around the room (avoiding mirrors) and danced my way into the shower.  I sang at the top of my lungs.  I sached across the tiled floor and ...

... collided with a strange man holding two children. 

(They are claiming to be my astonished looking husband and equally shocked sleepy-eyed daughters.) 

ARGHHH!

I'm NOT 21!  I'm NOT alone!  I'm NOT irresponsible!  I'm NOT underscheduled!  It's NOT even SATURDAY! 

Yet, the music continued...

When I'm walkin' I strut my stuff, man I'm so strung out

I'm high as a kite I just might stop to check you out

Let me go on like I blister in the sun

Let me go on big hands I know you're the one

Blister in the Sun by the Violent Femmes

more spring awe

a peach tree

(planted in honor of the beloved "momotaro"; a children's story from Japan)

a fig tree

(planted in honor of an incredible trip to Croatia)

I love creating symbolisms from the smallest things that happen in life.   

From a fond memory. 

From an experience. 

From a moment. 

From a feeling. 

When I look upon the green spring backyard, I remember. 

I remember the feeling of happiness...

from Michigan.

from Croatia.

from Tokyo.

from life itself.

My apologies as I post more spring photos. I know you are probably tired of seeing/reading about Spring.

But I just know this spring is a beautiful start to a continued year of blessings, health, and happiness.

Boats and Beans and Barbeque?

or is it "Oats and Beans and Barley Grow?"

In November, my daughter's school had "Pilgrim Day" in honor of Thanksgiving.  The day was filled with fun activities; making butter, donning pilgrim or Native American costumes, weaving baskets, creating drums, eating corn and popcorn, and learning about seeds. 

Corn kernels, sunflower seeds, and bean seeds ... were observed.  I have no idea where the seeds came from -- probably someone's kitchen pantry.  The seeds were placed into a clear plastic bottle and used as a Native American maraca.

Recently, I found the plastic seed maraca stuffed into my daughter's closet.  I pulled it out so that I could dispose of it.  Two weeks ago, we took the seeds to the backyard -- to an area of mulch that nothing grows except weeds.  (AND I have tried sowing in that patch of mulch for three years now.)  We decided to spread the seeds for the visiting squirrels and birds to eat. 

Last weekend, my husband entered our home and asked, "What did you do?" 

What an open-ended question... HUH!

How shall I answer??  I have many automatic answers to fire off, but I need to know to what is he referring, so that I can save the good responses for a more serious crisis mode.

The question should have been stated as:  "What did you plant in the undesirable plot of mulch where nothing ever grows?" 

Answer:  "We decided to feed the squirrels and birds some new (or perhaps, old) seeds." 

Apparently the neighboring critters were not fond of our choice of disposed seeds because we now have 30 bean plants or more growing in an unusual space of mulch.  We have no idea what type of beans. 
My daughter is amazed at how the beans happened.  We did not plant them.  We just threw them.  Out.  Rid.  Dispose.  My daughter took her photo of beans and bean story into share with her class. 

The Moral of the Story:
Amazing things can happen when you least expect it!