Turkeys, crows, chickens and other birds

Have you been wondering about where I've been? I know you're missing me and the shining light of humor I bring to you every morning.

I have been sucked into the vortex of the iphone. I haven't been online with my computer since I got it. I have turned into one of those antisocial freaks peering into the nanoscreen of my iphone to get my news, email, weather, world-goings on, games, entertainment and life resources in general. Sad, but true.

Even in the fog of technology, however, I did enjoy the company of my family, however briefly.

S came home with a good story last week. At school, they played a variation of capture the flag. Only I guess they play it with a rubber chicken?! When S's team won, he demonstrated the score with his fingers: one to zero. He was crowing about his team's success, and I suspect he was probably not exhibiting the best of sportsmanship.

However, instead of using pointer man to illustrate one, he used tall man. And for those of you without kids, that means he gave the losing team the finger.

After regaling us with the victorious tale of capturing the chicken, and his flaunting of the score, we asked him why he used his middle finger instead of his pointing finger.

He says, ever so nonchalantly, "I flipped them the bird."

Why, yes you did, young man. "Do you know what that means?"

No. But just like a chicken, you know, bird?


Hmm. Yes. Indeed. However, in our culture, flipping some one the bird is a really obscene thing to do. It's like saying a dirty word. Like, sometimes when you want to curse or swear at some one and maybe they can't hear you, you can say the obscene message with your middle finger.

Like f#$( you?

Exactly. (How lovely that my child can just blurt out that sentiment). Pointing the middle finger is like saying f&^* you. In fact, it is saying that without using words. Everyone in our culture understands that gesture to mean f&*^ you.

Hmmm.

Now, I feel as though I have armed little S. Not only with knowledge (I am sure he's heard the expression like a million times) that he can share with his mini cohorts; but also with a certain power. It's kind of alarming. Like having a small nuclear device in the trunk of your car.

Let's hope he uses his new found power for good, rather than evil. Although he has been so mischievous lately, it would not surprise me at all for him to get caught flipping the bird at another losing squad. But, also it would not surprise me at all for him to look up at the disciplinarian with wide, pathetic eyes a la Puss in Boots from Shrek, and say, who, me? I was just showing them the score. How could THAT be naughty?

That kid is trouble. f#$%

When Mother Nature calls

First, I'd like to attribute my absence to something interesting or dramatic. But, mostly the reason is lame: it's hard to be funny or creative when it's hot and my baby went off to kindergarten, and I have a cold. Poor me.

On the other hand, now that the boys are liking school, I am feeling funny and creative again. Laugh, dammit.

Recently, M and I have been discussing the vehicle situation. His car, at 11 years of age, is ready to be sent to the bullpen for back up use. It is going to be used in middle relief for his dad when he comes for the winter. M is going to be using my car for the winter since a) it's leased, and could use fewer miles b) I like new getting new cars. Let's be honest, it's mostly b.

In our effort to reduce costs, reduce our carbon footprint, and set a good example for our children, we have been looking at smaller vehicles. Jetta Sportswagon (oooh. It has sport in the name, it must be zippy!)

However, this last week of carpool has me changing my mind. For example, if I want to pick up 2 kids (a pair of friends' siblings, maybe, or a friend for each boy), I couldn't do it. And more important, if carpool continues to involve ME waiting on the street for an hour before school lets out, I don't want a small carbon footprint. I want comfort!

I want to watch TV, take a nap, snack, maybe play solitaire, listen to music, organize my photos, really anything that will keep that hour from being a galactic waste of my life:

Yah, that's more like it. I could stretch out, snooze. Catch up on some DVD watching. Maybe check in on Oprah. Much more luxurious.

But, today, I was in carpool line and had a different thought. What I REALLY needed at that point was luxury of an altogether different variety:

So, I have proposed to M a different type of utility vehicle, I'm setting a new trend in mom-mobiles. I say screw carbon footprint, screw less-is-more, screw the planet. There are some certain necessities I should have while sacrificing my time for my children. I should be able to utilize that wasted carpool hour to live life to the fullest.

I mean look at this, I can enjoy a fake fire on rainy days, check out my widescreen tv, have some wine, start dinner, enjoy the view, whatever. I mean, hell, I could VACUUM if I were so inclined. My friends and I can visit, let their babies play on the floor. THIS is the vehicle of the future for moms of the USA. No more stinky gyms to wait in, no more cramped waiting rooms at doctor's offices, no more unpleasantness, no more coolers to store groceries while you run other errands--use the fridge! Schlep your kids in luxury. One child can do homework at the table while the other finishes piano lessons. Prepare dinner while watching a live HD feed of TBall practice. The versatilty, the convenience.

I'm sold. Look for me around town. Honk and wave. I'll be in the cockpit of this bad boy:

Parking could be a bitch, but it's totally worth it.

A pain in the neck

I just made a great phone call: I called the hair salon to make an appointment. Availability starts next week. "What time would you like?"

ANY TIME IS GOOD.

Ah. True. I get goosebumps when I say that. And while I am certainly psyched that the kids will be in school from, read it and envy: 8:15 to 3:15, I of course have ambivalence about their departure.

Not that this has been the most amazing summer ever, or anything. The kids have fought like cats and dogs. They have whined, argued, and made road trip travel hellish. But, they have also had MOMENTS of sweetness and cuteness, and overall, I like my kids' company well enough. This is a new school, and new school has with it all those stresses. And I just hope that they're happy there.

They're ambivalent, as well. S is worried that he isn't smart enough to go to a magnet school. Or that he won't have time to play Legos after school. E is worried he won't make new friends. Their ambivalence, of course, heightens mine. But mine is in some degree of control. I have decided to just let go this week, let them have this last unmitigated joy of summer, and then I can really feel as though it's time to buckle down and enjoy school.

The most glaring evidence of their anxiety is the number of people in my bed at night: it's like a parade. I put each child in his own bed last night. (I'm SURE of it.) At my bedtime, both children were in S's bed. By midnight, S was in my bed and E was in S's bed. By 2 AM, S was on the floor with Clooney and E was in my bed. At 2, I put everyone back. At 4:30, S was back in my bed, and by 5, was up for the day.

I have a terrible crick in my neck, as I was driven off my pillow by the invading hordes. S has never been a good sleeper, but now can only sleep if there's a human pillow next to/under/perpendicular/somehow adjacent to him. That's not comfy at all for the human pillow. And E is like a radiant heat source, and is faaaaar to big to fit in the bed comfortably with us now.

And yet, I hate to be hard on them. Clearly, this disruption is one of two things:

1. Anxiety about returning to school. They are regressing and anxious, and while they can't verbalize this stress, they are expressing it through needy behaviors and attention-seeking.

2. Like everything else in the world, this is my mother's fault. She spoiled them while we were in California and let them both sleep with her while my dad slept on the couch. Because laying on the bed, late at night, eating bon bons and watching Ace of Cakes is really what grandma's house is all about. And that's cool. I used to lay in bed with my grandma, eat popcorn, and watch The Love Boat. I get that. And yet...

Regardless of the cause, the kids are still all up in my sleeping paradise. After 2 weeks' vacation, in hotels and my parents' guest bedroom, I am ecstatic to be back in my own Tempurpedic Eden, and there are the invading hordes.

So, do I...
...get medieval on their butts and send them back to their beds the moment they cross my threshold?
...ignore and hope this goes away, suffering through cricks and heat stroke?
...offer to cuddle them in their own beds for a while, and then return to my own?
...try to talk to them about their anxiety/ask why they are ruining my sleep?

I need a 900 number to call for advice:
"If your child is making you insane, press 1."
"If your children are fighting constantly, press 2."
"If your children are failing school, press 3."
"If your husband AND children are conspiring against you, press 4."

God, I hate waiting through the whole automated menu:

"If your child eats too much/too little, press 5."
"If your child turns into a TV zombie, press 6."
"If your child hangs out with the wrong crowd, press 7."
"If your child's face froze like that, press 8."
"If your child doesn't sleep, press 9."

There it is.

"If your child has been abducted, and you think you're going to just wait it out, because surely no one would voluntarily steal and then willingly keep YOUR brat, go ahead and hang up and call 911."

The hotline would be swamped.