Friday, October 31, 2008

Peeka-Tzu, I see you!


Clooney wishes you a Happy Halloween. Despite the pumpkin bows. Really. Happy barkin' Halloween.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Things that go Blah! in the night.

What the hell? Today is being strange. I had all these big pre-mom visit plans, and they are steadily running down the toilet. It's already 10 AM. I was supposed to have (per my list) washed the floors, done laundry, mailed my sister's birthday present, cleaned out the fridge, and run. None. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Not done.
But, I have been sitting here, rocking out to Neil Diamond (Do NOT judge me) and thinking about Halloweens past.
I freaking hate Halloween. More than any other holiday, religious or otherwise. I hate it. Loathe. Detest. Abhor. Even more than all the pepto bismol pink of Valentine's Day and overly commercial Christmas. More than jingoist Fourth of July or intoxicated St. Pat's. More than the overly important Hannukah, and the only recently added Kwanzaa. More than the frilly, floppy Easter, or the age-old Passover.
Actually, apparently, I only like Thanksgiving, for the record. Which is true. I love Thanksgiving. I loved watching football with all the men in the family while my mom and grandma washed a million dishes. I loved sitting at the kiddie table with my uncle. I loved stuffing. I love mashed potatoes. I love dark meat on the turkey. I love the rolls my grandma used to make for us. I love the smell. I love the no-gift, no-problem experience. I love that every one is welcome anywhere. That's there's always enough. And more. For almost every one. On one day, there is enough for everyone.
Anyway, sorry for the rather sappy aside. Halloween is a problem for me. For one thing, I never had the right imagination for costumes. Like sometimes, not enough imagination: the year I wore the plastic Garfield costume. Sometimes, too much: the year I wore a black leotard with adhesive stars and was The Universe. Sometimes, misplaced: the year I was a 'punker' and everyone thought I was a hooker. Sometimes, overly executed: too-creepy witch when all my friends were good witches. Anyway. Almost every year, hell. I hated picking a costume. I hated whatever my mom bought. (Even if it was what I wanted). I hated trying to make a costume (how did that one kid make Storm Trooper so awesome out of TP rolls?) I hated that never in my entire childhood did we have one trick-or-treater at our house. We lived at the top of this steep hill that was unlit and spooky on the best of nights. Somebody REALLY had to want to come up there. No mini Milky Way was worth the trip, believe me.
We sometimes went trick or treating at a friend's neighborhood. Once in my grandma's neighborhood. But my parents had this (completely accurate) argument that we could have candy whenever we wanted. Why go beg for it? True. How to counter that? It all went bad anyway. We forgot about it, or my mom ate the ones with the nuts, or whatever. After we had it, we didn't care. So we traipsed around the neighborhood in the cold and the dark, begging for candy we didn't eat all of, or lame ass stickers we didn't want. I can NOT buy into the Halloween experience. Even now, I want my kids to have the perfect costumes. (They are Red Power Ranger and Buzz Lightyear). I want them to enjoy it. But with M. He'll take them out. Meh.
The only good costume, in my entire life--EVER--was when I was pregnant with one of the kids. I bought a cheerleader costume that you could iron on whatever school name you wanted on the shirt. My cheerleader costume was WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY too small. My giant belly hung out. My shirt said "SLUT." That costume rocked. One. In thirty something years.
So, trick or treat, y'all.
Bah, Humbug.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Two if By Land

So, I ran around the house today in "parents are coming" mode. Again. My mom is (and I say this without irony) graciously coming to spend Halloween with the boys. Which is nice because, you know, kids grow out of Halloween fast, and they're cute all dressed up, and this way I don't have to eat all the candy by myself.
On the flip side, OnStar clean-up is still a dream, and my house just isn't up to par. Nor is my garden. Or my laundry. Or my car. Or, let's be honest, me or my children. With this cold,I sound like Kathleen Turner. And not kinda foxy War of the Roses Kathleen Turner. More like transgendered Chandler's dad Kathleen Turner from Friends. My head hurts from screaming all the time just to make myself heard, and I'm down to the really old underwear in my drawer because I haven't put away the BASKETS full of clean laundry. (Is that better or worse than having no underwear because it's all dirty?)
My kids are excited to see grandma, but in a spoiled, annoying kind of way. My car smells like Chinese food and spoiled milk sippy cup. My kids seem to generate more laundry than Elton John. And, honestly, I have piles of crap randomly growing around the house.
Additionally, I'm beat. The reason the house isn't all spic and span is because I walked three miles this morning in the freezing cold, which actually took something out of me. I had a beer with dinner, which is having its desired narcoleptic effects, and everyone relevant at my house is either sleeping or at work. So, I'm going to bed at 8:15. I could stay up. But it won't come to that.
So, my mom is coming. But I feel guilty when she comes and does work. Except for babysitting. I do NOT feel guilty about that. So, I won't want to work in front of her, because she wants to help, and I won't let her work, so scratch another week of getting anything done OFF the list.
On the upside, since she is here, M and I are running away to Biloxi for the weekend. It's not Monaco. Hell, it's not even Vegas, but it's away. And child-free. And relaxing. So, I am excited about that. Also, and this is in no way personal, but E and S can go to their fourteen-millionth birthday party this month without me. Grandma can go. I will provide present, wrapped and ready and Grandma can go. I have no desire to go to yet ANOTHER party. There is an endless stream of aging children out there, people. Somebody needs to FIX IT!
So, come Saturday, I will be footloose and fancy free. Must make it to Saturday. Must make it to Saturday....
And only the hideousness of Halloween stands in my way. I can hear the MWAAHAHAHAH of Dracula now. Spooky.

Monday, October 27, 2008

This is OnStar. How May I Help You?

I have an invention. Now I need engineers and big thinkers to make it happen. Actually, it's an improvement on the existing technology of OnStar. Have you heard the ads for OnStar? The car wrecks, and a pleasant voice is beamed into the car, "are you hurt? Emergency vehicles are on the way. I will stay with you until they arrive."
As I left the house today, all the beds unmade, breakfast dishes in the sink, toys on the floor, laundry in Himalayan peaks in the hall, I thought, I could be in a serious accident. This is what my house will look like when I'm bleeding on the side of the road. So, enter my invention. When my car hits a tree, a soothing voice will be beamed into the car. "Are you hurt? Emergency crews are on their way. Maids will be arriving at your house shortly to tidy, wash, take out your trash, put your dirty undies in the hamper, and wipe out your sinks. They will handle the worn pull ups in the bathroom, and make all your beds. Don't worry. I will stay with you."
Otherwise, when the CSI enter my house (the lesser known series CSI: Mobile starring Andy Griffith as chief) this would be the conversation:

CSI Griffith: What do you think?
CSI Delta Burke: Looks like she left in a hurry.
CSI Griffith: Yup, maybe some one else was here. They tore the place up looking for something.
CSI Delta Burke: We got a mystery, dahlin.
CSI Griffith: Or a MYSTERIOUSLY bad housekeeper. (Looks at camera and removes sunglasses)
(Dum de dum.)

So, my new OnStar device will spare me from that embarrassment. I would seriously rather bleed from a nasty head wound than have police see my house as it is now. AND I CLEANED YESTERDAY. No one picks up. E's room look like a bomb went off at the Comic Book Convention. There are Marvel, Transformer, Star Wars, and assorted Other body parts, action figures, and accessories all over. S's room has used (but not dirty) pull ups from yesterday and today on the floor. My room has laundry (clean and dirty) in sorted heaps ready to be washed/put away. My kitchen has suffered from this morning's oatmeal feast and lunch packing activities. Plus, there was a cockroach in my flour this morning, which necessitated an emptying out of that cabinet. As if wiping it all down removes the memory of that giant bug walking around in a nearly-sealed ziploc. *Shiver*
"Ma'am, the maids were wondering if you'd like them to iron. Also, we have contacted Stanley Steamer. Apparently, your carpet is excessively dirty. Do not worry. The nearest Stanley Steamer is only 4 blocks from the site. I will take care of that for you."

Oh. blissful technology.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

This Week in Mobile

Phew! It's been a crazy week. In short:

Clooney got neutered. He's been miserable, as he also has a yeast infection in his ears and has to wear the stupid cone collar. He had a total system shutdown on Thursday, let out this weird yelp and collapsed. He couldn't lick his crotch OR scratch his ears, and had just given up.

S had two days off school last week. The Jewish Holidays were brutal this year. Too many days off the little synagogue school he goes to. We went to paint a piggy bank at the pottery painting place, we ate out at Wendy's, we ran errands, we were together NONSTOP for two whole days.


E had two early dismissal days. He had parent conferences (which were positive) and a very exciting fall festival at his school. We got to eat lunch together twice also, and had a lot of fun at the school Friday night. Plus, today, he had a birthday party to go to in costume.


I have laryngitis AGAIN. This time is way worse than last week's. I can't speak above a whisper, and that's annoying. I can't even yell at my kids.


Saturday, we had nearly 40 people over at our house for a Halloween party. My kids had a lot of fun, as did we. I hope all of our guests did, too. I was so anxious about it. It's hard for me because I want everything to be so perfect, that I over extend. Should do fewer things better than try to do all the things. Oh, well. I think it was good, in spite of myself. Too bad we had a stinky football day around here.


Yesterday, we carved our pumpkins:


This is E's. It has the Decepticon and Autobot images on it.












This is S's: It has Uniqua and Pablo from the Backyardigans.





They turned out cute. They looked great for the party, but alas, won't last until Halloween. S has a field trip tomorrow to a pumpkin patch and Daddy and I might have to carve again!

We are very lucky that still, in the waning days of October, the temps are in the low to mid 70s and in the full glory of the tropical dry season. The weather is gorgeous every day now. Interestingly, Mobile is one of the wettest (if not THE wettest) city in the United States. Almost all of that average five FEET of water comes in the months from May to November (hurricane season, the wet season). From now until next May, most days will be in the 60s to 70s and sunny and clear. Perfect for the hot tub in the evenings, and light jackets in the mornings. It is the karmic return for sweating through summer.

My mom is coming to visit on Tuesday. Hurray! The boys are excited to see their grandma, Grandma is excited to see her boys, and I am excited! M and are going to spend the weekend in Biloxi. (The economy needs our help. We will be depositing some money in the Beau Rivage casino.) We will get to go out with our friends. Grandma gets to go to the Halloween parade at school, trick or treating, and of course, play with Hot Wheels at 6 AM. Awesome.

I am going to try to return to regular posts. October has been a thin month, I apologize. Hopefully, I will be sending some daily notcinnamon to you starting tomorrow.

By the way, if you did not catch Amy Poehler's (presumably last number. Congrats to her and Will Arnett on arrival of Archie. Perhaps due to this musical number?) last appearance on SNL, you must watch her rap on Sarah Palin.

http://www.hulu.com/watch/39808/saturday-night-live-update-palin-rap

All you Mavericks in the house, raise your hands...

Saturday, October 18, 2008

It's Not Like PreSchool on TV

Ok. Something scary happened to me yesterday. I woke up exceptionally sore from Thursday's work in the garden, which turned out beautiful, by the way:


Hooray! No more weeds. Anywhoosles, I drove the kids to school, washed the car, got Sam dressed, and let him watch the first fifteen minutes of The Wonder Pets. I took him to school, came home, cleaned up, did some laundry, and got ready to shower. I went upstairs, and plopped myself down on the bed to file off a torn fingernail. Filing away, I absently watched Ni-Hao, Kai Lan, which was on Noggin. Here's the scary part--after I finished with my fingers, I sat there and watched the end of the episode. Alone in my room. And wait for it, I had SEEN the episode BEFORE.

So that is frightening, right? Not as scary as if I had actually enjoyed it. But, still. Little Rintoo was not feeling special. I started wondering if I make my kids feel special. And then I was wondering if telling a kid he's special is the same as making him feel special. And then some rhinoceros with a balloon was on the screen, and I was lost. All kinds of big-headed, talking animals populate that show. And Kai Lan has the maturity of a grandma inside a doe-eyed, smartly dressed 3 year old. Then, I was wondering if shows like Kai Lan promote and embrace diversity as much as they purport to. And then, I thought, yes, they probably do: My kids really enjoy Diego and Dora and have learned some Spanish words, and learned about quincineras, and a compassion for animals. And that's diverse, right?

And then I started wondering about Yo! Gabba Gabba! and what blackmail or indiscretion went on to get that show on the air. There is a cycloptic phallus (I wish were joking), a pink thing, a robot, and a green poof. With names like Tofu, Beepob and Solee. There is our host, Lance, a flamboyant guy with a bearskin cap like the guards at Buckingham Palace, only his is yellow, and he wears fake glasses. And a shiny jumpsuit. And we all know why men should not wear jumpsuits. Especially shiny ones.

Even my kids think that show is stupid. How could the same network with Little Bear and its sedate music, and charming stories produce Yo! Gabba Gabba! I mean sure, Little Bear is a little Eurocentric. What with the Victorian costuming, and the nuclear family, and the single bear-family income and conventional maternal role of housekeeping. BUT! I propose that a dancing phallus, a yellow (horribly puppetted) robot and friends who are always screaming at me, who change scenes every fifteen seconds, and have no continuity or transition cannot be good for any child. Do these negative aspects make up for a positive black gay role model? I don't think so. Its messages of diversity and uniqueness are good. The messengers need to be beaten with their own costumes.

Does every show have to have a message? Can't we just entertain ourselves if we watch TV in moderation? I loathe that woman at the beginning of every Noggin show. "This show promotes self awareness, phonics awareness, numeral awareness, animation awareness, and after your child watches it, s/he will be ready for college." If we don't treat Noggin like "preschool on TV" and only watch, say one show per day, does it really HAVE to be a meaningful half hour? Can't it just be a fun half hour?

So, I turn to the Backyardigans. I love the Backyardigans. Pablo, Uniqua, Tyrone, and Tasha play outside with fantastic imaginations, and very little squabbling. They teach us things about the past without being didactic, they have no parental struggles, they are happy in their charming backyards, and have without a doubt, the best lyrics and music of any children's show. There's the memorable number about Pirattitude, or when the Viking-yardigans get stuck in maelstrom and have to hold on tight with all of their Viking-might. Or when they go to ancient Japan and ninjas try to steal their Samurai Pie. Or their terrific rock opera set in medieval times. Or the very entertaining James Bond Super Spy episode (Agent Pablo likes his juice boxes shaken, not stirred). They're great. I love them. Why are there so few episodes? I would not be embarrassed to be found watching them alone. And singing along. Maybe.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Debates and Monologues--Interior and Exterior

OK. Now my friends are predicting some necrotizing bacteria is going to opportunistically swoop in and digest my feet through my ant wounds. Just in time for Halloween. Cool.
A little nursery rhyme to celebrate Thursday:

Everybody goes to school today, hurrah hurrah.
Send 'em off and let 'em play, hurrah, hurrah.
Send 'em off then come back here, listen to the silence, dear.
It's time I had some time alone, let them go and then come home
They all go off to school today.

What the heck happened to this week? Next week proves to be the same. I thought that after school was in session for a while, things would settle into a nice routine. So far, the routine has been general insanity.
Yesterday, the vet told us that Clooney should be neutered (duh) and needs to have a tooth pulled while he's under anesthetic. Can you imagine the social consequences of neutering George Clooney?
Anyway, I feel bad for the dog: ooh, ooh, vet. They give cookies! Ooh, ooh. What's that needle? Ow. Oh, sleepy...sleepy...sleepy. Wake up. Hey, strange nap. I dreamed...holy crap! They ARE gone! And so is that tooth...weird. I don't think I want to come back here...
Yes, you did just read my interpretation of a neutering procedure as seen through the eyes of the canine patient.
Things haven't gotten any less stupid around here, apparently.
I am trying desperately to avoid the subject of politics here in my public space. Thankfully, the last debate was last night, and as thoughtfully observed by many pundits, people in the crucial state of Pennsylvania were unlikely to be watching. With you know, BASEBALL on. So, I am on countdown and thinking that 20 days is a LONG time. I've heard about the Bradley Effect. I've heard about what people will do when they get into the polling closet and no one is looking over their shoulders. Will they be able to vote for a black man? My question is, will they EVER get to vote? Is this ever going to end? What if my candidate dies of exhaustion the day after the election? By the way, I hated the format of last night's debates. The table was too high for John McCain and he looked like a little kid at the dinner table. The whole thing bugged me. How can anyone sit down at a table with someone they WORK with and say things that are so inflammatory? I couldn't sit down with some one I work with and say, hey, listen. I'd rather you quit hanging out with terrorists. Kay? Now, let's go grab some lunch.
Speaking of lunch, the highlight of mine with S at the Chinese restaurant buffet: Lady at the table next to me leans over, and says, "you have a beautiful son. His eyes are beautiful." Then, eyes widening a bit, she says, "but does he talk like that ALL the time?" Oh, yes, lady. HE NEVER SHUTS IT! I have passers by pitying me for the constant diarrheal flow of verbiage from my kid's mouth. It's like spending a day with Jack Kerouac...complete wild word association. "Ooh. Noodles and fried rice. I love fried rice. Where does rice come from? (no pause for answer) Rice is nice. That rhymes. I love to rhyme. I rhyme all the time! That's funny. That rhymes too. When are we going back to school? Can we do a craft today? I like to paint. Paint and Play-dough are messy. Messy is yucky. Noodles are messy. Fried rice is messy. Look, I mixed rice, noodles and soy sauce for you. What is this yellow stuff? It smells spicy. You like spicy. Do you want to eat this yellow stuff? I will put it in this bowl for you with the rice, noodles and soy sauce. E does not like soy sauce. What time do we pick up E? Can I take off my seat belt in carpool line? (Pause) MOM! I asked you a question. Why are you ignoring me?"

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

It's Like Being Tied to an Anthill

Darned Jewish Holidays. It's Sukkot, and S is out of school AGAIN. The director assures me that next year all the Holy Days fall on weekends, and man, am I relieved. This sucks. He's been out it seems at least one day every week since September.

Today, we are building Go, Diego, Go! a tree house. Hooray! Unfortunately, S has lost 40% of the blocks to his Go, Diego, Go! tree house set. So, we have 60% of a tree house. We will have to do something else later. I'm kind of sick of Halloween crafts, and yet....S is not.
Clooney is at the groomer. I don't have to worry about him skulking off and potty-ing in the house. He spent the night at a friend's house this weekend and tried to mate with her dog the entire time. MT described her dog, Remy's, futile attempts to flee the amorous grip of Clooney. She said Clooney would chase Remy, long hair flying in the wind. I have a visual image of Fabio/Clooney trying to mount her little Papillon mutt. Clooney might get the snip soon.
Currently, I am being driven mad by a series of fire ant bites on my feet. They alternate between psychotic itchiness and painful painfulness. Some one said I should pop the blister that forms over the bite to let the venom out. So far, that has augmented the painfulness, and only diminished the itchiness slightly. And now, my feet and toes look like weeping hamburger meat. Here is one foot:




Ew. And ow. Stupid fire ants. I also have bites on the bottom of my feet. It's agony. I can't believe they tied people to poles in fire ant hills in the Wild West. It makes waterboarding look like surfing. (Nice pedicure, though, don'tcha think?)

Hooray! We got new windows in the whole house! Yesterday, a crew came and installed 24 windows, carted away the old, and cleaned up in 10 hours. Amazing. Exciting for me, though. Maybe the toxins from my ant bites are making me loopy.
I am looking forward to sleeping at night without the A/C on. And being able to open the windows without every mosquito in the state getting into my house. Our old windows had no screens, and in fact, many had permanent storm windows in front of them that rendered them inoperable. Today, I am going to wash all my windows and sit and look at them for a while.
S has given up on the 60% tree house and is watching Dora now. I am feverish with mad-ant disease. I'm getting...antsy. No. Well, yes. I'm all silly and goofy and doing my Dora dance. Oh, God. Make this post stop.


Friday, October 10, 2008

Tooth Fairies and Other Myths

Is it Friday yet? Oh, crap, it's Friday.
Sometime last night, upon silken wings and silent feet, the Tooth Fairy visited us. E exchanged his first tooth for four quarters and is triumphant! (Yes, ONE dollar. Global Economic Crisis, people.) Hooray. There's something so bittersweet about that lost first tooth...grown up enough to be developing permanent teeth, young enough to believe in fairies. The paradox of childhood. It's sweet.
So, it's Friday. Before a Three Day Weekend. And you think Halloween is scary. My dedicated reader (s?) will know how I feel about extended weekends. This one is going to be a whopper. We are going to see Winnie The Pooh, Live! (The exclamation is party of the title, so that we know it will be awesomely awesome.) Then, we are off to New Orleans to the zoo. We haven't been to the Audubon Zoo before, I understand it is huge. And they have an endangered species carousel. I wonder why they make endangered species take passengers, but you know these are tough times. We will be missing ALL day of college football, and all day of professional football. Which normally only Michael would care about. But this week is special.
It's almost as mystical as the Tooth Fairy. My naive hope against hope. My cynical knowledge of what is to come...
Northwestern is undefeated with more wins than any season since 1962. Additionally, NU received votes for the national rankings, and is #22 in the USA Today Poll. Oh, sweet nostalgia. Of Rose Bowls and taking the Purple to Pasadena. Of bowls other than the Gillette Shaving Basin, or whatever other second rate bowls we've been losing since. It's that rare aroma of victory. So, hopefully, the curse of Chicago does not extend north from Wrigleyville to Evanston. And nobody tell me anything until I get home from Winnie the Freakin' Pooh! to watch my TiVo. I've got the remote under my pillow.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

A-Toned For

Easy Fast, for all you Jews out there. Fasting? You have got to be kidding me. I've been fasting for months. Nothing has toned. Oh, atoned. Does that mean without tone? Because my muscles seem to sufffer from that.
Atonement. Acknowledging error and making right with man and God. S has a whole day off from school today while services are held, and while we honor the holiday of Yom Kippur. (I accidentally typed Yum Kippur, which tells you I'm still back on the idea of fasting.)
So, S and I are spending Yom Kippur by cleaning up the playroom, sharing lunch, and visiting the fire station. While I am hoping the fire station closer to my house is staffed by aforementioned calendar models, that is not the main reason we are going. S was jealous of E's field trip, and there's a fire station walking distance from home, and basically, I can't think of any good reasons why we can't go. So, there.
Wait, I was atoning. About wrongs. I have come to the conclusion that I don't think I could have wronged anyone but my family this year, as I seem to only have contact with them. If I've wronged you, and am not related to you, please forgive me. It will pave my way to a more peaceful new year. If you are related to me, and I have wronged you, you probably deserved it. Except M. Who probably gets wronged on a daily basis. Even probably today, on the day of atonement, and usually doesn't deserve it. So, here in front of all 2 of my readers (one of whom is you, dear) I apologize for any and all wrongs I have undeservedly flung at you like poop from a monkey cage.
I will offer up to you as a peace offering a full weekend of collegiate and professional football. No, wait. I will offer up to you a weekend including Winnie the Pooh Live: Christopher Robin Comes Out and a trip to New Orleans. So, yah. Add that to the list of wrong monkey poop.
Atonement. I am feeling wronged these days. Perhaps my own delusions and paranoia. But, I feel wronged by avaricious companies and their executives, by an inscrutable and dishonorable government, by a world economy that I can't begin to even comprehend, by reckless and inflammatory media outlets. I feel as though there are only two political positions on the current and lamentable state of the world: It's all coming to an end or It's all coming to an end and it's not my fault.
But listing the wrongs done unto me is not the spirit of the holiday of atonement. So, although I cannot undo my wrongs, I honor the holiday by trying not to repeat them. I have wronged the planet--I am going to reduce my carbon footprint. I have been wrong in my consumerism--I am going to consume less of everything. I wronged charity--I did not give enough this year. I am celebrating today with food (let's be realistic, at least) and a sense of renewed hope: It's all coming to an end, but I can do something to try to stop it.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Martinis, Backyardigans and Firefighters, Oh My!

So, this is a post of many points. In no particular order. Much like my physical life, which has been all over the place recently (schlepping, parties, field trips, dentist appointments, driving, driving driving), my mind is also all helter-skelter this morning. Perhaps I should heed the cold medicine warning and not operate heavy machinery while taking that medicine. Is a computer heavy?
First, I saw a public service announcement that made made me laugh. I don't think that was the desired consumer response. The picture was a girl who looked to be about 8, but was supposed to be a tween. She was dressed all in pink with long pigtail braids. She had a martini with 2 olives in it and the caption read: "Start talking before they start drinking." Okay, if my tween is drinking a dirty martini, I'm going to shake myself one and toast her! Honestly, wouldn't it be WAY more suitable to have a tween puking her guts out with a past-its-expiration-beer in her hand? No tween ever went south drinking dirty martinis.
Second, I think my dog hit puberty yesterday. He is teething like crazy, and will chew on anything, including my nose. But last night, while chewing, he started to mate with my leg. This can't be a good development. Amusingly, though, he had this faraway look in his eyes, like maybe he was thinking of Charlize Theron while he was doing it.
Third, it is time to vote. A mere 9% of voters remain undecided. I am convinced these are the same people who can't order off a menu. If a voter can't choose between one end of the political spectrum and the other, s/he might need a refresher in civics. There is no common ground between these two candidates. This is not like choosing between the cobb salad and the dinner salad. This is like choosing between the steak and potatoes and the dinner salad. NOTHING the same. The rest of us have made up our mind, and would like to get this over with. Politics is becoming a swirling riptide of news media pull and chatter. I want to make it all stop. Let's vote, swear in, and move on. This is interfering with my usual schedule of thinking about dinner salads and steaks.
Fourth, if Nickelodeon can't dig up one new FREAKING episode of the Backyardigans, I am going to hurt some one.
Finally, yesterday we went to the fire department with E's school. E learned about smoke detectors and fire safety. He was disappointed when they raised the ladder only 60 of its 110 feet. I was so disappointed that all the firefighters don't have six pack abs and beautiful pecs and lounge around the trucks and hoses wearing only their hats and g-strings like they do in all the fire fighter calendars. I guess we all learned something yesterday.

Monday, October 6, 2008

Weekend Illness

When my children are sick, I nurse them. I try to ease their discomfort. Decongestant doses never lapse. Fevers are checked. Snuggles, stuffies, blankets are delivered on command. Cool Gatorade is delivered regularly to my little TV-bound ailing babies.
And then I get sick. Thursday night I felt iffy. Maybe the debate put me over the edge. Friday morning I felt awful. My leaden head muddled through the fog of congestion. My neck and muscles ached. My sinuses felt as though they would burst. Fever and chills. Killer cold.
But Friday was the Blessing of the Animals at E's school. Had to have Clooney go sit on Santa's lap and be blessed. Maybe that wasn't Santa. That would explain something right there. I stood in line with my little E as he strangled, squished and manhandled poor Clooney. I stood with my friend, MK who bravely packed two overgrown rodents into a shoe box for their blessing. They squeaked in protest and shock. So, eventually, we got blessed. I guess. I missed that part. MK and I took our relieved pets home.
Then, later, I gathered all of my hand assembled little loot bags for E's birthday party, picked up the cake (personally ordered, I'll have you know!), and delivered everything to the party petri dish place (which smelled terrific. They either knew I was coming and soaked the place with Febreeze or actually keep it clean! What a concept!) Came home, napped. Picked up S, picked up pizzas and was ready (?) to party. My head was pounding. My eyes hurt. My ears hurt. I hurt.
Half of the people I invited did not RSVP, or show. At all. I was unamused. My cold left me less tolerant than usual. Every guest at the party had his own pizza. It wasn't a total loss, though. MK won the ticket jackpot with only one token! Awesomeness. I especially liked the way her son was completely unimpressed. All the grown ups loved it, and her son: meh. E and S ate cake for the rest of the weekend. We played with new toys and read new stories. I hope those other kids are jealous of the attendees' goody bags!
ANYWAY, while all this is going on, I still have my head cold. We came home and de-partied with a nice quiet movie. Then I was in bed by 7. I slept whenever I could on Sat (thanks, M). I took a nap on Sun (thanks, M). I did laundry. Snooze. I watched a quarter of football. Snooze. Bought E new shoes. Snooze. Read about Halloween crafts. Snooze.
This morning, my tummy hurts. The congestion seems to be on its way out. Made lunch. Made breakfast. Let dog poop. Dressed S. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

I'm Baaaaaaaaack

Here's the thing. You know how when you poke an anthill, a geyser of ants erupts? Suddenly, the whole thing is teeming with ants? And it's instant, as if they just appeared there? Then, you can't imagine that a second ago, this was just a mound of earth with no ants at all?
So that's totally how my life was a week ago. After I survived Tuesday, I went about my daily business Wednesday until suddenly my parents appeared. Even though it was only two people, it seemed the activity level increased geometrically. Then Thursday, we added M's dad to the mix, and suddenly we had an anthill. It wasn't bad or anything...just abuzz. I come from a small family, and I am not used to 7 conversations happening at the same time. Two grown ups are talking about politics, two grown ups are making plans for lunch, one grown up is negotiating with the birthday boy about presents, one kid is screaming because no one is talking to him. Chaos! I'm just not used to it. Plus, when my mother is here, my children can do no wrong by her. Which is nice for them, because that's what grandmothers are for, but it's irritating to me for two reasons: 1) There's no WAY I ever got away with anything and 2) My children give me this nah-nah look, which makes me want to wring their little necks. The look is simultaneously triumphant and manipulative. It bugs me.
So, we ate well, we drank well, we visited, and now I am in total post-trauma mode. I have this thing about house guests. No matter who they are or how long they stay, I have this impulse to scrub my house when they leave. All day Tuesday, I mopped, scrubbed, laundered, organized, and vacuumed away every body's existence from my house. It's nutsy, but then again, what isn't? Tuesday night everything was done, did my usual crazy Tuesday with the kids, and then yesterday, hung out with S, who was out of school thanks to the Jewish New Year. ACK! So long as it's celebratory, let's just go ahead and send everyone to school to ring in the new year, okay? But no. Yesterday, we watched TV, snacked, and ushered in Rosh Hashannah with Dora and Diego. It's ok if your kids watch TV when you watch it with them, right??
Today, things are mostly normal again. But tomorrow, there is E's birthday party. I can hardly think of anything more appropriate for the party than the migraine maker at the local petri playhouse. It's a good thing Yom Kippur is coming up. I'm going to have something to atone for after tomorrow.