Backdating

You might notice new posts going up that are back dated and that is simply because I wrote them up but have been slogging around in other projects that distracted me from posting them. So after final edits and picture adding I am posting them with the original dates even though it is today. I'll keep this as the top post until I am caught up.
If you could imagine or knew how far behind I am on FaceBook you would start sending out a search party. There may even be people who assume I have just stopped paying for my FIOS connection. I'm around, just slow and rifling through papers real and virtual.
Thanks for checking in.

He Done Growed Up

Like many a weepy mommy who had to send their first born children off to school for the first time this year I took a few pictures. Ezra started kindergarten this year which is pretty important and exciting and you would think kind of fun. However, as will come to be shown Ezra has a habit of making what I call the "prison face" in pictures during happy or celebratory times. The prison face is often followed by the "free at last" face. I really can't explain it. I give you the following evidence.

Prison Face Ezra Starting School



Free At Last Ezra Starting School


Weird, right? I mean the second picture is goofy no matter what but seriously- he was entirely thrilled to be going to school. In the first picture it looks like we are sending him to work in a shirt factory cleaning under the gigantic moving mechanical looms! Work ethic is great and we could use a couple extra pennies but they changed the labor laws ages ago.

Still we did end up with the next picture which kind of makes me not care that he did the prison face first. For real- a gal has to brag about her kids from time to time and announce that they and only they are the most beautiful children in the world. But come on now- what other conclusion can you draw here?


Although this is not representative of all our days (as is clearly proven by the ever-lurking prison face) I have proof that they liked each other for a few minutes and were very much the most adorable children in the world.

If you want to eat them just a little bit, I understand. I do too.

Words by the Page

I have collected dictionaries since I was is high school. To say I am selective is surely an understatement as my collection is probably less than 25 strong and I started it nearly 15 years ago. I like my dictionaries to be old, thorough, filled with words people have forgotten and I adore it beyond belief when there is any sort of inscription or notation anywhere within the pages. This is how I got the most recent one and the best yet.

When my grandfather passed away on February of 2008 he left a houseful of things both amazing and ridiculous. Historically vital and 2 for 1 at the dollar store. He came from a very important, smart and well educated family but also a frugal one. In his later years he (and my most beautiful grandmother before she died in September 1999) spent a bit too much time looking for diamonds at the church fair and packing them away for a rainy day.

On one of my visits home after his death my sisters and I did a sort of looters ceremonial walk-through of the house. There was no will specific enough to give any one of us the Go Bang set, wedding china or telescope we used to watch the lobster boats go in and out with the tides. My mother and her two siblings decided we would get low-tack stickers with our initials to apply to any items we may want when the estate. as it is/was/were... settled. Two or more stickers on an item and we would have to figure it out later amongst ourselves. All of these selections were provisional of course on my mother, aunt or uncle not selecting one of the items for themselves.

There wasn't a ton of stuff I wanted until we were about ready to leave. Walking through the downstairs library I spotted the two-volume, magnifying-glass-included, Oxford English Dictionary sitting happily but a bit lonely on a shelf. Even the Compact Edition of this gem is bigger than my head. And oh, the deep, professorial blue tone with delicate gold lettering. Ahhh. I looked around furtively like a thief. I felt a guilty for no reason. I said a silent prayer (which my grandfather the preacher, would have appreciated) that my grandfather wanted me to have the OED. It was right there. I love dictionaries. My god- the best one in my collection is an inscribed by a stranger, 1947 edition dictionary bound in packing tape that he, himself sent me off to college with. Silly, adorable old man.

I stuck my little sticker on it.

After mentioning to my mother that I wanted the OED she seemed doubtful. Apparently my uncle also wanted it- although only to replace the magnifying glass in his edition. And to boot my younger cousin who is my grandfather's namesake also wanted it.

I have it. I love it. I dust it. I wish I could carry it around in a little pouch like people do toy poodles. Maybe frame it. I wish I had more words to look up. I find myself trying to come up with words I don't know the meaning of just so I can look for them in its damp and inky pages. Did I mention I love it? And I have it.

Did I also mention that I live in a two-family house and that our half has only two bedrooms and a sun room/office. The dictionary does look rather handsome in the window seat next to the Peace Lily but then no one can see it. I can put it on the floor but come now, it is the Oxford English Dictionary, Compact Edition, Two Volumes with Case and Magnifying Glass. It doesn't fit on the mantle and our bookshelves are too packed.

Would it be going to far to use it as a pillow? I could see going to bed surrounded by the comfort of warm words and cool pages. Mmmmm. Sleepy words would be especially good.

FROGGY UPDATE-EEEK!

I have since learned after posting about my frog-snail issues that there is a lot of controversy about these African Dwarf Frog habitats. You can google beyond the link. Most people are claiming they are pretty damn inhumane. Now, inhumane does stem from not being good for humans but I get it and I am kind of agreeing. I just don't quite know what I am going to do. Mine are from a different company than the ones on the PETA site but they look pretty similar.
Obviously PJTruck and Humavark are not going to be released into the wild. They are not American Northeast Suburban Dwarf Frogs. So I think I have start thinking about a trip to a pet store (another somewhat inhumane and sometimes controversial concept) and get me a bigger boat. Er, tank. And some more rocks. And a filter. And a bubbler. And some more plants. And some snails that may or may not be murder victims within days of their entry into the habitat. And a heater for the winter. Damn frogs.
I haven't mentioned this to the Dearly Beloved yet so he may read this and come looking for me. My pet shop jaunts don't usually end well. They usually end in many, many dollars spent on fish and fish supplies. I don't why but I can't escape their slimy little gilled clutches. I will have to be strong. And this may be a slow project- so sorry PETA but my Frog Habitat Improvement Fund is a bit low right now so we have to start slow.
I'll keep you updated.
Maybe this will be a little more Good Mommy and less Bad Mommy. Or maybe it is just Don't Alert the Media Mommy. Meh- whatever gets the job done.

Don't Go in the Water

In a previous post I mentioned our beloved quasi-pets PJTruck and Humavark. They are African Dwarf Frogs who live in what is touted to be a mostly self-sufficient environment that costs less the $25. Nice. There is rectangular plastic tank that goes on a (available for additional purchase by suckers like me) pedestal thingy so are therefor very fancy and worthy of display. Inside are supposedly very special gravel rocks that have self-filtering properties. There is lucky bamboo, a pretty rock and you only have to change the water twice a year. Again- nice. And of course there are the frogs.
Oh wait- I didn't mention the most important thing. The two EMPTY snail shells lying at the bottom as if waiting for evidence tags. I smell murder most foul.
The frog habitat came with one freshwater snail with the super important job of head janitor. He/she had a name but being a Bad Mommy I have forgotten it. A few weeks, maybe a month and a half after we brought our water loving friends home the snail was found floating. Snails don't float where there isn't a current. We gave it a day or two to try and figure out what was going on and in that time it appeared the snail was "retreating" into its shell. I now have a different theory. Anyway it was clearly dead.
Not a problem. We are modern parents. We told the kids. They got it. It was kind of sad but not requiring of a shoebox kind of sad. Paper towels and a baggie into the kitchen trash was fine. Rest in peace and look out for the incoming apple peels.
I went to the company site for the froggy sellers and as it happens they could explain the dead snail. So I wasn't too worried at that point. The company also sold replacement snails that could be shippped right to your door. Fossil fuels be damned! I do like a nice package delivery and if ot comes with as sweet little gastropod mollusc and makes my kids happy too- awesome. I will gladly buy the carbon credits to off set the shipping.
A few days later not one but two delightful snails arrived in a bubble wrapped baggie of water labeled "SNAIL X 1." Math skills aside we were pleased and introduced the little ones to the frogs. We thought it best not to name them.
Good choice because less than one week later they were DEAD.
I cannot be responsible for theses deaths. We followed the directions to the colloquial "T." We never aggravated the snails or frogs with tapping or late night phone calls, requests for money or a ride to the airport. I didn't let anyone make wishes on dropping pennies into the tank- we always kept the ventilated lid on.

The best that I can come up with is that although these teeny frogs are supposed to be very content and have even earned the nickname "Zen Frogs" for the way the float peacefully- their captivity has hardened them. Maybe it wasn't both of them who did the deed most foul. Maybe one of them came from the wrong side of town or had been through the tank business before. Maybe the two of them are just trying to send us a message. Attica. Attica. Maybe they are segregationalists. That would be awful to think I was harboring frogs of that ilk. No matter what I honestly beleive the frogs my kids love to watch jump and swim and spent hours perfecting the names for are actually snail killers and what is almost worse- snail eaters. There is not a trace of snail body to be found.
No body- no murder?
We have not sent in another snail. The frogs seem restless but I cannot sentence another snail to what seems like certain death. We continue to treat them as though they are the same frogs we knew in the first blissful weeks of our relationship and maybe one day they will be ready for us to put pretend snails on Popsicle sticks and move them around the outside of the tank. Rehabilitation will be slow but PJTruck and Humavark just might turn back into model frog habitat citizens again. For the children, I really hope they do. Frogs would need a shoebox.
On a brighter note- supposing you don't get a batch of killers- these little guys are wicked cute and would make a neat-o executive desk accessory or gift for someone who you know is completely incapable of caring for an actually needy pet. Maybe get a spare tank filled with extra snails though. Just in case.

4 Letter Words

Ezra is 5 and is working on writing and spelling and is using special Post-It notes to label things all over the house. He wants to fit more and more on the little pages even though they are really only meant for 4 or 5 letter words like wall and house. When I gave him the sticky-notes he used them appropriately. But after labeling less than ten things I found him chasing my 3 year old Lena around the house with one while she cried.

Why was he chasing her? Why was she crying?

Ezra had written "sweet smell" on a sticky and wanted to attach it to her butt.

I don't even know what to do with that. I had to make him stop because he was making her cry but I also thought it was hysterical. It was also a pretty smart joke. And he had written two words small enough that they fit. Still- you can't let one child use irony to make another cry. Still I was so proud of his writing and spelling... It was one of those parenting moments you have to file under "What the Hell?" and cross-reference with "Fodder for Embarrassing Children" and "Graduation Inscriptions."

We finally worked it out by me consoling Lena and Dear Old Dad helping Ezra find something else in the house with a "sweet smell." It ended up being the refrigerator. I'm encouraged by that as an indication of my cleaning skills and grocery lists.

Ezra is growing brain cells faster than a frat boy can kill them during Spring Break in Cancun. He wanted to write a longer word on his little Post-It so he asked my husband to think of a 12 letter word. During the 45 to 90 seconds he was trying to come up with one Ezra said "Is kindergarten a 12 letter word? It is, isn't it?"

Yep.

When my husband relayed that conversation I sat dumbfounded trying to think of another 12 letter word. I couldn't. I know some. I write them. I say them. But for whatever reason- my 5 1/2 year old can pull them from the ether. I know I have to file that under "What the Hell?" but what do I cross-reference it with? "Mommy isn't That Smart?" "Do More Crosswords?"

What it boils down to is that every parent is convinced their child is a genius of monumental proportion. If you frequent mommy chat rooms, blogs or library story times you would have to come to the conclusion that in the next 10 to 20 years our country will be inundated with Nobel Prize winners, MacArthur Grant recipients and Forbes magazine cover makers all under the age of 25. In a lot of ways I hope Ezra isn't in that projected group. A lot of kids level out and the rest of their peers catch up. And in the mean time, being smart and carrying a lot of stuff in your head can be hard when you are just a wee little person with wee little person skills and wee little social mechanisms. But Ezra is smart right now and I am going to let him enjoy it when it doesn't involve chasing people with clever bits of word play.

The real bonus for me is that since Ezra has all the big words covered for me I get to stick my friendly four-letter friends. Not that I swear, I do have small children you know...

Show and Tell Day

I'm not going to show the pictures so don't worry.

I am just setting to keyboard what once would be set to pen that I don't know yet where the line is. I don't know what I want to share and what is only mine. Who do I know is reading? Who will secretly read? Am I seriously convinced I am that important?

I haven't read any Blogging for Dummies type thing and trust me, have NO intentions of doing so. But I wish there was a Big Brother Big Sister program that matched you up based on your life and what you like to talk about and then they help you decide if you are going to bring your new puppy to show and tell or the map to the old puppy's grave. Geez that sounds creepy. See- I'm not actually that creepy. I don't think.

There is almost a need for a person to have one blog for everything they have done, do or will do. Mommy, wife, work, hobbies, medical history, civil war re-en-actor, conspiracy theorist, writer, gamseshow contestant, pie lover, gambling adddict- whatever your category is.

I barely know my categories and I still need to figure out my audience. Hello audience. It's me. How are you? How is all this working out for you? Want more milk and cookies or do you prefer gin and tonics?

Egads but don't this just beat all. Well today for show and tell I am bringing me, my blog as it stands and my willingness to push myself farther. Onward and upward, forward march, small steps for mankind and all that tripe. Enough of the New Year's resolutions in July, I have crazy-ing to do and make. Here is a picture of my little man so he doesn't feel left out after all the pictures of his sister. Enjoy.

It was preschool graduation. Hence the overalls. They are de rigeur for all graduations these days.

Open up and say ahhhhhhhh....

I had an endoscopy yesterday and they let me take home pictures. Hehehehehe. Ewwww. I know I shouldn't share and I totally won't and I'm not even going to go into the topic right now because I'm tired but I kind of want to show you.

Don't you kind of want to see?

No? Okay, so admittedly once I saw them there was a pang of regret for having asked but the chance to say "Hey Doc- can I get a copy of the shot of my esophagus?" is pretty rare. I promise I won't share.

I was just bursting at the seams with the knowledge that I have the pictures and I needed to put it out there. Okay- no more sharing.

Now onto your day and enjoy your lunch.

Girls in Their Summer Dresses

I made this dress for my baby girl and I adore it. I don't know if she does or not but oh well- I am the Mommy and the boss and I get to pick the outfits sometimes. Seriously- I flipping love it. Modesty aside because I hate being boastful.

She has only a handful of wee sundresses and I had been meaning to whip a few up for ages but nonsense had gotten in the way. I finally decided to just do it as quickly as I could and see how it went. So we picked out the fabric from ye' old box o' fabric (fabric I have spent way too much time and money gathering but wish I could sleep in a pile of sometimes because I love it sooo much) I cut out a piece I thought was bigger than her and had her lay down on it.

I marked her armpits (and measured around them), belly button, knees and where I wanted it to fall on her legs. Then I measured around her belly and added two-ish inches. I am not an exact crafter although I have heard they exist. I cut according to my marks.

I pinned down the top to form a channel wide enough for the 1/2 inch elastic I had found in my bits and pieces collection and pinned the bottom of the fabric to make a close seam. After that it was easy-peasy-pudding-pie. I sewed straight lines where I had pinned and made them as neat as possible for an "on the fly" kind of project. I threaded the elastic through the channel and attached it at one end. Using the measurement of her armpit/bust/chest whatever it is when you are 3, I pulled the elastic until it was stretched enough to fit closely around her top without leaving marks or pinching, pinned the stretched end in place at the opening of the channel and then pinned the elastic in several places to keep it flat and prevent it from changing size. Next I sewed the elastic at the open channel, thereby closing the channel and forcing a gather in the top of the dress. After that I made a straight seam across the bottom of the dress and a simple flattened out seam to close the back of the dress.

To make the straps I attached 1/2 inch double fold bias tape cut to about 8 inches to the inside of the top of the dress on both sides, being careful to match front to back so the ties would work well. I also added a VERY long belt loop on the back with the same bias tape. I figure this will allow for the dress to grow with her some. It is generous in size already and the shoulder ties can be adjusted, have buttons added or sewn together to fit a larger child. The belt is simply the same bias tape with the ends stitched to stop fraying. I will probably knot them later.



It took about an hour to an hour and a half all told but as I said it was not done with exact measuring or perfection in mind. It has stood up so far though. Plus she had been wearing braids the day before the picture was taken so she looks all crazy, wild child in it. She was a little put off by the tiger being the main image on the chest so we made up a story about Bernard the Tiger who lives in and ice cream shop. It was very complex and fascinating. Email if you want first pick for the movie rights.

I will try to post more projects and have more exact directions. This was more of a "Look Ma- No hands!" kind of thing I guess. I also wanted to show myself that I still had it in me to find time to do the things I want to do. In the meantime I am going to strongly encourage her to wear the dress everywhere but especially places where people will see how adorable she is and ooh and ahh over her. Because then secretly they'll be oohing and ahhing over me right? In written form that does seem very very wrong. Bad Mommy. But ooooh. Aaaaah. Wheee!

Birthdays Gone-by

Since I have already posted about my anniversary coming and going without a parade I wanted to mention that my baby sister had her 30th birthday just the other day. That means she is O-L-D! Okay so if she is my baby sister I guess I am also old. But I am only 2 years older- 21 months actually. I am pretty much younger than she is.

She got to spend her birthday in Maine in spite of having abandoned the majestic and generally free of major earthquakes East Coast for Seattle and then Portland, OR 6ish years ago. I think she had a good day from what she described. Still she probably missed being on the "other side" with her friends who would have celebrated in a style more fitting than my mom can muster.

I haven't sent her a gift yet. Originally it was because she was in Maine and had a mail stop on her Oregon address so I figured I would wait. Then I thought I would be enviro-me and not send something via jumbo shipping company vehicle but find a local merchant to purchase from in Portland and have it delivered locally. Then I got sleepy and took a nap after supper. Then I woke up and watched Law and Order: Criminal Intent. Then I decided enviro-me would really rather send an e-card with an e-gift certificate.

Surprise! Then I fell asleep. I think I went to the Farmer's Market. I know I went to Starbucks. Later I thought about sending her some of the jam I canned but that went back to the fuel-sucking shipping company thing again so I decided no. Wait but now it gets good- I have totally neglected to get her a damn thing.

I could try and pass this off as being enviro-me and smaller-footprint me. Or it could be hey-my-husband-works-for-a-non-profit-where-they-made-massive-cut-backs me. Or it could be schmucky-sister me. I think I have to fess up and admit to option three. It may have started one way but after all the naps and tv and outings and the days that have passed and the fact that she is now back home with no mail stop... well... I just have to lay it out and say I blew it.

So my dear peepsio sister, if you are reading this- hi. I love you. Isn't love enough? How's about I said you a smnabddkgkfndsglybu via onlinupsfedbikemesenpostal ? I know you've always wanted one. It'll be there for sure by... oh geez- I would say I heard Mom calling me but in order to update that I will say I hear the kids stepping on rusty nails outside. I really ought to get to that. But I'll be in touch super soon. Honest.

Yeah. I blew the 30th birthday thing for her. Good thing is, I remembered to call and there is still the 40th birthday to totally not screw up. Better write that down though.

9 Years in the Making

My anniversary has come and gone. It was July 15th. My dearly beloved and I have been married nine years. Wow. Not quite a decade. Everyone asked us afterward "Why didn't you say anything?" or "What did you do? Where did you go?"

Ummm. We didn't say anything because it has been nine years and we have two kids and we know we have been married and don't really expect the people around us to keep track of something that happened again, nine years ago. Also- we're not that impressed. We kind of figured we would be married in 2009 when we got married in 2000. Wine and roses, candies and bowls of cherries all the way- yeah, no. But we have always worked under the assumption that we would stay married. When things were hard and words were exchanged that we tried to suck back into the empty space of our lungs- it was still okay. Fights are fights. This is the last time is not always the last time just as the first time isn't always the first. We all know time is indeed relative.

I have always maintained that the ability to call one's spouse a jackass with a smile and alternately a sneer all the while knowing you love them regardless is what makes a relationship. If you were to ask my dearly beloved he would definitely vouch for having been called a jackass under both circumstances. And here we are at the nine year mark. Ta da- jackass.

So where did we go? What magical way did we find to express our triumphant love and joy on that magical night of the 15th?

Well, I had an appointment so I missed dinner but I think the kids may have had a bath. We don't have a babysitter. Wah wah wah waaah. That is the true sound of suck for a parent: "We don't have a babysitter." There are a million ways I could express my sadness on this topic but I will leave it with the understanding that it is wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked crappy.

Okay so we weren't going anywhere anyway and if we were we might have taken the kids. We like them. They are funny and we get served faster when they're around too... Really though I am not sure we would choose to spend money on one night of a sitter and a few hours of pricey alone time with pricey food when we could put that toward something better. We can eek out alone time- even if it is at midnight over True Blood on the DVR and popcorn. But my husband makes the best damn popcorn in the whole freaking world. For real. And popcorn is cheap. And I don't usually have to tip him for bringing extra sodas.

So it has been nine years. I don't mean to diminish them. They have been wonderful in so many ways. I love my husband, he loves me- that works very nicely for a gal such as myself. We have hit many a roadblock as a family, as a couple, as parents and as individuals and so far we always make it to the other side. I don't think that is coincidence or luck. I think that comes from way back in 2000 when we got hitched under an assumption that that was that. A big anniversary will be the one when I am surprised to have made it to that year. I sincerely hope that is a long way away.

In the meantime we are accepting applications for babysitters or in-house sous chefs.