I Spy

Standing there I said "There are more parents on this playground than children." I counted and lifted my camera to shoot the photo.  Concerned adults stood within feet of their kids barking orders "Now put your left foot on the next rung!.. No! No! You'll fall! Here, let me show you." I was having a hard time seeing my child through the angry sea of wide bottoms poked skyward, as bent over mothers place their children's feet in the appropriate space for maximum fun.  People were directed and posed and moved about like rag dolls with tired rolling eyes and showy grins, while fathers shouted "A little to the left! Now look over here, now say 'cheese.'"   There are ten adults in this photo and nine children, can you count them all?

Seven Years this Month

I've been a blogger for seven years.  I've never made a dime from the blog though I have met a few people who paid me for artwork through the blog and I've met people who have hired me through the blog.  I've never gotten a free thing to review, I've never been asked to write about a thing.  I would, if asked.  I've never been approached by advertisers and I've never had ads.  I have 4,000 comments and I have 31,000 page views and right now my most popular post is about Jack's struggle with group B strep.  I'm ok with all of this.  I started the blog seven years ago to pass the time and connect with the outside world.  It would be nice to get paid for a thing but eh... It's just where I record things.  The mundane and the divine and sometimes the silly.  It's the captain's log, snippets of life, something the kids can look at that isn't a scrap book but actually is.

Ice cream after a bike ride to the conservatory
August 2012

Kit and Kaboodle

I have lots of topics to blog about but all seem to open a can of worms that is so large and fiddly that I'm avoiding talking about anything.  So, I'm going to give you all the fast and furious updates to clear my brain.

1. I'm going back to skate for the Rockford Rage (yes, after all that)  They're WFTDA, they are five minutes from my house, they are very organized and they are a very nice group of women. My knee is fine.  If I worried about breaking things every time I left the house then I'd never leave again.   That is all.

2. The property manager of the house I rent was fired.  The new guy is getting the things done.  This is great, because we like the house.

3. The kids are well.  School starts in a week!

4. The first printing of my book is almost sold out. If you want a copy you'd better order it soon. Only $20.00 CHEAP!  There's only about twenty left. You can get it HERE.

5. We went to all of the following things this summer that kicked butt and provided a crap load of cute photos of my children in various stages of glee; Thomas the Tank Engine at the IL Railway Museum, Willow Creek Folk Festival, Discovery Center, Burpee Museum (dinosuars!), Monkey Joe's (Yes, I said I'd never go there again but I got out-voted), Festa Italiana, The Cabin, Boone County Festival, Pearl Lake, Pierce Lake,  Sinnissippi Bandshell, Bikepath, Cars on Main, Alpine Park and our own backyard (woohoo!)

6. I didn't have to mow my yard all summer because of the drought but it's rained recently and now I'm in the market for a used push reel mower.  Anyone know where I can get one? Cheap?

Out for a Drive

Spiderman, Strawberry Shortcake and a red bike.  

Overheard From the Play Room

Spiderman Spiderman
Does whatever a spider can
Spins a web
Eats a fry
Catches guys
Any size
LOOK OUT!
Here comes the Spiderman.

 

Pat Brown is Dangerous

This is the five minutes of television I watched today before getting mad and shutting it off again.  

Hey, Pat Brown, spouting statistics you made up on a subject so serious is dangerous. How can your integrity be so cheap? Shame on you. 

OFFICES STUDIO 0I FLOOR

Hershele Ostropoler was Right

From comments HERE during a discussing on harassment.

 “If you step on my foot, you need to get off my foot. 

If you step on my foot without meaning to, you need to get off my foot. 

If you step on my foot without realizing it, you need to get off my foot. 

If everyone in your culture steps on feet, your culture is horrible, and you need to get off my foot. 

If you have foot-stepping disease, and it makes you unaware you’re stepping on feet, you need to get off my foot. 

If an event has rules designed to keep people from stepping on feet, you need to follow them. 

If you think that even with the rules, you won’t be able to avoid stepping on people’s feet, absent yourself from the event until you work something out. 

If you’re a serial foot-stepper, and you feel you’re entitled to step on people’s feet because you’re just that awesome and they’re not really people anyway, you’re a bad person and you don’t get to use any of those excuses, limited as they are. And moreover, you need to get off my foot. 

See, that’s why I don’t get the focus on classifying harassers and figuring out their motives. The victims are just as harassed either way.”


It's attributed to Hershele Ostropoler who is both a fictional character and the handle of this tumblr blogger who actually wrote the brilliant comment I quoted.

What One Hundred Pennies Will Buy

I highly recommend 

Drewelow's House of Books

2233 Charles St. 

Rockford, IL 61104

815-226-2233

Also see my Buttery Soft Math Book

Oak Canopy

On this day, everyone but me sleeps in.   It's the middle of the summer and the morning after a full moon.  Even the dog can't be bothered to crawl out of the little pile of dirty clothes on the floor to rumble down the stairs and watch squirrels gather endless acorns. That old dog snores when she sleeps but the children just breath quiet, deep sleep.  For after visiting Grandma and eating iced cream last night, we stood on the side-walk, leaning this way and that, peering through the oak leaves, howling at the midsummer moon.  

Breakfast at Bombadee's VI

Discovered  four days after the phrase "Wow, Jack at two whole muffins for breakfast"

Also see:

Breakfast at Bombadee's V 
Breakfast at Bombadee's IV 
Breakfast at Bombadee's III 
Breakfast at Bombadee's II
Breakfast at Bombadee's

Things I learned this week

Always ask the eye doctor if there is a "fitting fee" before you make the appointment.

Kiwi requires a great deal of silverwear to eat; a knife to halve it, a spoon to scoop it out and then a fork for the actual eating.

You should wash sheep skin rugs with shampoo and lay them flat to dry but not in direct sun, it will damage the leather. 

Ugly Kitchen

We're settled in and I made ugly curtains for my ugly kitchen.  The walls are baby blue and the floors are buttery yellow and blue linoleum from the 80s so I bought a striped blue and yellow polyester fabric today on clearance.  I wanted a large black and white gingham but it wasn't available and the fabric I did find matched exactly.  It was so ugly it cost a dollar.  So my kitchen curtains cost $4.00 and that includes ribbons and curtain rods.

A while back I found a deal on black and white peel and stick tiles at one of those big box stores online.  It was a box of 45 12" tiles for 0.65cents.  So of course I ordered 7 boxes, enough to redo the kitchen floor in black and white checkerboard.  I was excited to be able to put new floor down for $4.55 + tax, but they called the next day to say despite what my computer said they were out of stock.  So I suffer with ugly kitchen.  No, I don't own this house so it's a struggle with how long I will let the ugly intrude; possibly the full length of the lease, or possibly only another month.  The new tiles would only run me (not on sale,) $75.00.  Then I would go get the black and white gingham cotton fabric and be able to exist in proximity to that kitchen.

I have been known to rearrange a hotel room before being able to fall asleep.  You can't just shove a table into a corner and expect your guests to get a good night' sleep with all the un-feng-shuing sending all the good energies out the window.  So when I enter a hotel room, I move furniture, un-tuck the sheets (I need my toes to breath) checked under the mattress for bed bugs and dead bodies, put my clothes away, and then relax.  Why tolerate an needlessly ugly environment?

Here is the new ugly curtains in the old ugly kitchen.

A Gross Start

Should pole dancing become an Olympic sport? I'm trying to think about this rationally. The fact is pole dancing's origins are gross. The question really is, can we as a society move past the sexually charged connotation of this possible sport to allow it into the pantheon of artistic gymnastics. No, in this current climate and devaluation of women, we are not ready to act like mature adults and see almost anything women do without objectification. This begs the question; if it doesn't matter what women do because we will be objectified no matter what... so then why let society dictate? Why not toss perception out and do what is right and true? Traveling this path of thought I say, go for it women. In an effort to further the maturity of society as well as legitimize the sport, let me make a few suggestions though. Usually artistic gymnast are trained in more than one discipline, so to be taken seriously as an artistic gymnast, learn the uneven bars and pommel horse too. Trade in the standard high heels and sparkly bikini for hand chalk and a leotard with stripes down the side. Start calling it "artistic vertical bar" and be prepared for fifteen year old sprites to dominate.

Win a Book!

We're giving away a free copy of The Toughskin Rhinoceros Wrangler Company, all you have to do is go to the facebook page and LIKE it.

Also Macaroni Kid Rockford gave us a good review and you should check out their page too, it has something kid friendly every day.

Summer in Full Swing

We finished signing books this weekend and will be sending them out next week. I've got a meeting with the curator of a gallery here in town and we'll be discussing what I will show in July.  It's exciting to be doing art things in the day.  It's going pretty well here, except for the house stuff.  The property manager says he's trying to get things fixed, yet days go by with more excuses.  I think by next week something will give, I may try a different tact with the fellow to let him know I'm not to be trifled with.

Today we're going to my Grandma's old neighborhood bakery to get Italian baked goods.  That'll be the fun part of the day.  Then I'll continue to put things away and do a few loads of laundry.  There is a great deal of space in the house and that's good because I never realized how many art supplies I actually had until I moved them.  Perhaps I should pair down, as the only materials I regularly use are a single pen and a panel of watercolors. I'd really like to find my box of paints today too, I have a single painting I've moved three times that I'd like to finish.

We had a fire in the backyard last night in the fire pit.  After cleaning up the yard and gathering dead branches we have a giant mound of dry dead fire hazard leaning against the fence.  In trying to burn some of it up I got nervous.  We are in drought conditions and most of what's there is kidnling so it was going fast and hot.  I didn't get through much of it, and I have to get it bundled up today and out to the alley.  Anyone want to help? Come on over! Perhaps later we may burn some more and roast marshmallows.

No, I'm Not Exaggerating

So the house wasn't finished and they did work and we moved in and it still needs work.  Lots I'm finding out, and how did I find out? When I smelled smoke.  Yep, Saturday night after being in the new house one day and unloading my entire life and all my belongings into the house that was promised to be finished but wasn't.  I sat down to turn the A/C on and something in the basement started sparking and smoking and crackling.  I called 911.  They arrived with full sirens in full gear and shut all the breakers off to the basement and fixed my smoke alarm.  No, my smoke alarm didn't go off, the batteries were installed incorrectly. No the other smoke alarms on the other floors didn't go off because there weren't any. The AC was repaired yesterday, but today no cooling again.  The freon is all leaked out already, I'm sure.  The smoke detectors are in finally this afternoon.

***

Take a nice cool relaxing bath you say? I'd love to, if I had any water pressure.  It takes an hour to fill the tub half way.  Yes, it's on the list, yes, he's promising to fix it, no the plumber has not called me yet.  I can''t use the garbage disposal either as there isn't enough water pressure to wash even an earwig down the drain  Yes, there's a list.  There are 42 things on the list. This is number three on the list.

***


Did I mention it's been in the 90s with 50% humidity for three days? It's at 50% humidity because it rained on the day I moved in for the first time in months.


***

It took my nine hours on the phone with AT&T to get the internet up and working.  I know because I was on my cell phone, which doesn't get reception in my house so I have to stand on the front porch to make a phone call.  AT&T kept transferring me to another department who would start the call with what's your home phone to which I would explain that's what I was trying to buy from them and then they would ask for my account number and I would say I didn't have it and they would say I should've received it in my e-mail confirmation and then I would have to explain to them that I didn't have a phone line or internet yet but I was trying really hard to get it.

***

While I was trying to unpack I wanted to send the kids to the back yard to play.  I couldn't until I cleaned up the yard.  I wish I was just talking about broken old branches.  There was broken glass, rusty razor blades and screws all over the yard from the contractors working on the house.  Me and a friend spent all day yesterday cleaning the yard. I'm still finding sharp and or rusty things back there.

***

The newly varnished floors are peeling up.  They varnished over oak floors that have been waxed and oiled for almost a hundred years. The stuff is bubbling up and it comes off when you pull a chair out, or walk on it or drive a matchbox car over it or breath near it.  Three times a day I sweep a pile of varnish chips off the floor.  It's exhausting keeping the children out of the broken glass and errant screws and varnish chips while simultaneously not being able to wash anything or fill a tub, in the heat.


***

The property manager of this place is Nick Savaglio at Rockford Property Solutions aka Rockford Development LLC.  He has a boss, and no, I haven't spoken to him yet. I'd like to.

Extreme Living

Alright so the house wasn't done when we got here.  We had to give the landlord an extra two weeks to get repairs finished and new carpet in.  Apparently there was a mix up with the move in date and the lady we were dealing with is no longer working there and the boss over there at the office came and did the check list with me so I feel like they are making it right and it's going to be pretty.  Also I crashed my car on the drive up. A tire flew off the truck in front of us and landed on the front of my car.  The insurance is covering it of course but it's just all a struggle to even get to square one.

In the mean time we've kicked off our summer, I took the kids to the city market yesterday and we rode the trolley all over town.  The local paper covered my book and I met a wonderful artist who offered me space and support.  I also got in contact with a local parenting group to partner with promoting AND my book is going to be delivered next week!  NEXT WEEK!  As if that wasn't enough, I ate a maple bacon cupcake, pizza from Capri, chocolate from Daniel's and saw the new Muppet movie under the stars downtown where the newspaper took our picture.

It's never boring folks, never.

One Thousand Days of Texas

Almost three years ago we moved to Houston.  We're moving again, back to Illinois.  I added up the days, minus the ones we spent vacationing, we've been here about 1,000 days.  Tomorrow we pack up the truck and on Friday we start driving.  I am both terrified (it's a 19 hour drive with everything I own in tow, to a house I have never seen) and excited (I'm going to make it awesome.)  I have so many last minute things to do and every time I pack a box the kids unpack one. The dog is underfoot at every step, making sure I remember to pack her and I'm fighting off a cold with vitamin Cs, ibuprofen, large amounts of coffee and sheer will.

The Toughskin Rhinoceros Wrangler Company

Dear Family and Friends, I have great news! My very first children's book is going to print! It's called "The Toughskin Rhinoceros Wrangler Company" and it was written by poet Thomas L. Vaultonburg and illustrated by ME!! Also Ella has a small contribution in it "Ella's Amazing Rhinoceros Facts" so she actually did the real hard work for us.

The first run is limited and we're using Kickstarter for pre-orders where I got on camera and did some talking for the video followed by the embarrassed declaration "I don't really sound like that, do I ?" Anyway... Go buy it! (Or promise to buy it) and repost this link and/or post it on your blog and/or tweet it or all of those things. You can also count on me bugging you again about this. :)



GO BUY IT HERE!

Disobedience by A.A. Milne

James James
Morrison Morrison
Weatherby George Dupree
Took great
Care of his Mother,
Though he was only three.
James James Said to his Mother,
"Mother," he said, said he;
"You must never go down
to the end of the town,
if you don't go down with me."













James James
Morrison's Mother
Put on a golden gown.
James James Morrison's Mother
Drove to the end of the town.
James James Morrison's Mother
Said to herself, said she:
"I can get right down
to the end of the town
and be back in time for tea."

King John
Put up a notice,
"LOST or STOLEN or STRAYED!
JAMES JAMES MORRISON'S MOTHER
SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN MISLAID.
LAST SEEN
WANDERING VAGUELY:
QUITE OF HER OWN ACCORD,
SHE TRIED TO GET DOWN
TO THE END OF THE TOWN -
FORTY SHILLINGS REWARD!"


James James
Morrison Morrison
(Commonly known as Jim)
Told his
Other relations
Not to go blaming him.
James James
Said to his Mother,
"Mother," he said, said he:
"You must never go down to the end of the town
without consulting me."

James James
Morrison's mother
Hasn't been heard of since.
King John said he was sorry,
So did the Queen and Prince.
King John
(Somebody told me)
Said to a man he knew:
If people go down to the end of the town, well,
what can anyone do?"

(Now then, very softly)
J.J.
M.M.
W.G.Du P.
Took great
C/0 his M*****
Though he was only 3.
J.J. said to his M*****
"M*****," he said, said he:
"You-must-never-go-down-to-the-end-of-the-town-
if-you-don't-go-down-with-ME!"

A Slew of Nerds in Tights!?

You all know, I love roller derby so of course I'm interested in other people's dangerous and strange hobbies.  Especially ones where people get to wear an outfit that is tough, have a name they gave themselves and be their own super hero... literally.  Yes, people out there have so much time and resources on their hands they are becoming super heros.  Like the roller derby name registry, there is also a super hero registry.  It's like Stan Lee's Show Make Me a Super Hero took on a life of it's own .  I think it's great.  I'm all for encouraging good deeds and protecting each other and the fierce costumes just add enough attention grabbing to make the good deeds newsworthy, something we could all use more of in our day.  So with great interest I watched the following video's this morning:

Let us start with this one: "Masked Super Hero, Phoenix Jones, stops Occupy Terror Attack"




According to Facebook, Phoenix Jones is the Leader of the Rain City Superhero Movement fighting crime in the streets of Seattle. He says “I symbolize that the average person doesn’t have to walk around and see bad things and do nothing.”

Then (insert rising ominous music here) THIS HAPPENED:



Which was followed up with THIS yesterday:



Of course not much is known about Rex Velvet, just what I could find on his his Facebook page.  You bet your bippy I will stay tuned into this saga waiting for the next episode or tweet

In The Night Kitchen

Four Days' Battle

Being the only grown up in the house has always presented challenges.  I don't mean like I'm worried about slipping in the shower and hitting my head and then a cat eats my face off sort of thing.  I mean I've been hunting a cockroach for four days.  I first saw it in my pantry.  One of those huge flying, three inch long monsters. I saw it duck into a hole in the back wall.  One it had made with a tiny sawzall just before he set up his Jerry-Mouse-like apartment with thimble chairs and a spool of thread for a table, a matchbox bed and a tiny elevator that goes down to the cookie shelf in the pantry.  The first day I saw him I thought maybe I was imagining things, I haven't been getting much sleep and it was a very big thing I saw duck into the hole.  Later my fear and sanity was confirmed when I caught him running across the Frito bag with such haste it was noisy.  I immediately threw away anything that was open in the pantry imagining the roach rubbing his butt on everything in a hedonistic mambo of grocery shopping.  Then I slid a box of cereal in front of his hole and barricaded him in.  A day went by and I was hoping he'd move out. He did.  To my dismay he didn't move to Bermuda like I'd hoped, he moved out of the wall and into the laundry room, behind the pantry, where he chased me out yelling "And stay off my lawn!"

Later in the evening I saw him in the living room watching CNN.  I can't stand to squish these huge things as they make a terrible pop when stepped on so I grabbed a glass and chased him around the living room hoping to trap him and flush him... live... ew.  I couldn't get close so I found the most toxic spray I could to spray on him, which ended up being all organic orange shower spray.  But in my defense it does say you should absolutely try very hard not to get it in your eye as it will sting really really bad. I sprayed the roach with it and he laughed and ran into the fireplace.  I hoped again he was on his way to Bermuda but just in case I went out to the garage and located the really toxic kill-everything-spray, before realizing I probably didn't want to  lay a fine mist of it in my fireplace to be vaporized later and breathed in the next time I was trying to cozy up in front of the fire.  So I did nothing, well, actually I yelled obscenities in the direction of the fireplace and implored the dog to evict him should he venture out in the evening past her nose.

Today I saw him laying on his back sunning under the window next to the fireplace.  The all organic orange shower cleaner apparently gave him a mean hangover.  I knew it was my chance.  Get him while he was out of alka seltzer and pepto.  But how.  Now I realize this is just a bug, not a rat (Kiki), or a crazy stray dog whose mouth could fit over my kid's head (Jaime), or a dive bombing cardinal (Christine), just a bug.  But he'd been mocking me for days, eating out of my pantry, chasing me off his lawn, bribing my dog, drinking my orange spray supply, enjoying my cable and in general terrorizing my sleep.  He had to go.  I took a dozen paper towels and wrapped them with a plastic bag and got ready to grab him.  As I approached he started kicking and yelling "Dude! Dude... time out! wait a sec! time out! Dude! I'm really hung over, just a sec!" Then I got scared thinking as I put the paper towels down over him he would grab on and be able to right himself and start running up my arm, so I screamed and shivered and backed off to make a better plan.  One that didn't involve close hand to hand combat

All my noise alerted the children something exciting was going on and now I was working with an added layer of difficulty.  A curious group of small, uncoordinated, onlookers who wanted to touch things and help. I gave them the job of holding all the pillows on the couch while I went into battle.  Thankfully they accepted the mission and I went to the kitchen to give myself a pep talk.  I came back and sprayed him again this time with lemony Windex and then got the glass out.  I placed it over my free loading, now drunk tenant and slid a piece of paper under both the glass and his back and yes, sure enough, he flipped over in a drunken lemony frenzy and tried to bust out.  This is when I shrieked and considered calling someone to come help me.  I was sure it would take two of us to stand on the toilet seat holding it shut with all our weight while flushing.

I didn't call anyone, I just did it, I picked it all up and ran it to the bathroom without dropping anything or flicking him onto my leg.  Three flushes later and he was on his way to Bermuda via the sewer.  I want you to know, I'm not being overly dramatic, the second flush was because he swam back up with a bowie knife in his teeth and the third was to make sure he was gone.  I may or may not have gone back in for a few more flushes five minutes later... and possibly ten minutes later. But what's 50 gallons of water wasted in the middle of Texas when you need a little peace of mind.

She cut them all off with a carving knive

I fried baby fresh spinach in butter and garlic tonight.  It really shrinks up when you do that, so I made handfulls of it. Ella said she liked it but seeing one particularly long stem, she lamented "Mom, I can't eat their tails."

Possible Snozberries

Those little cutey clementines are wonderful for the kids and I keep them in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator so that Jack can get them out whenever he needs.  He just peeled one all by himself and brought it over to feed me slices of it.  It was so sour I realized I hadn't had one for a long time, then I wondered if I was in danger of getting scurvy then I let Jack feed me another slice and remembered he'd been picking the dogs nose just before he peeled that cutey. Yay for parenting.

Chevron Says it's Not Their Problem

After THIS POST  about Chevron marketing porn and drug magazines to little kids, I emailed them a second time and said "I didn't get a response, what's up with that? " Chevron sent me a letter that essentially says 'We are sorry, but it's not our problem, we handed you off to someone else, there's nothing we can do even though our name is on the door':

Station Name & ID#:       Merchant Group Inc  -  207269

Facility Address:                   8301 Eldridge & West Rd Houston, TX 77084

Operator:                              SUSSER PETROLEUM CO LLC

Dear Jennifer,

Thank you for taking the time to contact Chevron regarding your visit to your local Chevron-Texaco service station located at 8301 Eldridge & West Rd Houston, TX 77084.

Please be informed that majority of our Retail Operations are independently owned and operated & these operators/retailers are the one in-charge in maintaining their facility; manning their Station Operation, hiring-training of station personnel and also in the implementation of policies. Kindly direct your concern to the station operators/owners of the facility involved for any point of clarification that you may have. As much as we would like to assist you with this one, this department cannot gain access to the station’s database nor interfere with the owners’ business operation.

We sent your comments to the Station Retailer who owns and operates this station to make him aware of the incident so that he can take corrective action. We know that as a business owner who values customer goodwill, he will counsel his station management to ensure that this does not happen again. 

Chevron is committed to providing excellent products and services to our customers, and when this does not happen we are very disappointed. It is very difficult to be knowledgeable of all events at all stations, however, customers such as you enable us to take corrective action when we are able.

Thank you for bringing this matter to our attention. We apologize for the inconvenience that it caused. 

Contrary to the incident that you described, we sincerely value you as a customer and hope this incident will not keep you from patronizing stations in our retail network in the future.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

Willy John Avilla

Consumer Connection Specialist

Consumer Connection Center Chevron Products Company 

Lizard Hunter

Home Shopping

I'm calling around for houses to rent and inquiring on some through Craig's list.  At least 50% of the Craig's List ads are some asshat claiming to be a missionary from South Africa who's a good Christian and can't so me the house on account of they're in South Africa and all but they assure me the house is sheer perfection and I should fill out the credit report and send them a deposit so they can send me the keys.  This scam must work some of the time because they are still running it.

The other scam is the company that says "Give me $250.00 and I'll set it up so you can buy this dream house that is in fore closure with no down payment or credit check, you just take over the payments and move in."  I read about it and what they actually do is take your $250.00 and give you a list of places in foreclosure and you do the rest of the negotiating with the homeowner who is so crabby about his house being foreclosed on he doesn't want to deal with you and won't call the company to tell them no, so you can get your money back guarantee.

I've talked to a few homeowners/landlords who seem serious and have said they can't get a renter who can pass a background check or a credit check which tips me off about what sort of neighborhood I may be looking at... or no longer looking at.  They can't pass a back ground check? ug.

So if you know of a cute little three bedroom bungalow with hardwood floors, a basement, a garage, front porch, and a fenced in yard in a good neighborhood, tell me about it.  White picket fence and lilacs seal the deal.

What's New and What Will Be

I'm not actually going to write much about the ending of my marriage.  It's just all so typical and embarrassing and boring and maddening.  It's juicy gossip but not a very original story.  The bigger story is, string of tragic events and life changes, meets midlife crisis and it all falls down. The end.

I am looking forward to quite a few things now. The first thing being a new house where we can settle in and stay.  This will be the 5th time we've moved in 3 years and I'm aiming for it to be the last time we move for a very long time.  Like the end of The Professional, we are going to plant green things where we are going. I'd like lilacs. We're looking forward to an end to the bugs.  My babies look like they have chicken pox between the ants and the mosquitoes and the other day I read a facebook post from someone who caught a scorpion in their house.  A Scorpion!... A...Scorpion!    F*^% that!

We are planning Jack's second birthday party already. It's in July and we want to invite all the friends and family we have in the Midwest and have water balloons and balloon balloons and helium balloons.  Jack loves a balloon, they make him laugh. We'll make a giant cake and cook out and reconnect with people we've missed outside somewhere where there are no scorpions.

We are excited about the water slide park, children's museum, Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles and Cousins, t-ball or ballet - maybe both, and a possible hamster.  The hamster is agreed to only after an extensive one page report on how to take care of hamsters is turned in. We are excited about boating and the fourth of July and music festivals and apple donuts and cheese curds, pasta and pizza and autumn camp fires and sledding equipment for Christmas.

I have lots of things on my list, mostly boring things.  The two that are important to me and I feel like I want to say out loud are this; art & bed.  I am going to make a go as a serious money making artist.  The last time I did it I was in my early twenties and all bushy tailed and dumb like all doe eyed twenty year olds.  This time I have life and experience and desire behind me.  While I was mildly successful the first time, I intend to be wildly successful this time.  I'm going to go about it a little differently.  I'm sure you will read more about it later.  I'm going to do all that while sleeping in a beautiful new bed. I think it's called for. That is all.

If you are here in Texas reading this, we're leaving at the end of May.  If you are in the Midwest, we are coming home at the beginning of June.  Yes, I need help moving, yes there will be beer, no I don't really want to talk much about what happened, and yes the kids would love a play date.

Smut With Your Candy?

I stopped at my local Chevron station (8301 North Eldridge Parkway Houston, TX 7041) yesterday to grab an Orange Crush and stood in line behind a nice lady getting milk and this little girl getting candy. It took long enough that I naturally started reading the magazine covers at the stand. To my surprise the ones at eye level for the kiddos were all tits, ass and drugs.  I patiently waited my turn.  When I got to the checkout I asked the man pictured below if he was the owner, he said he was the manager.  I told him the magazines that were at eye level for little kids up front were not appropriate, and in fact most of them should be in a brown bag.  He shrugged his shoulders and said that was how "they" set it up. I told him he should move them, it wasn't right.  He told me again that was just how it was set up.  I squinched my eyes up tight and pointed at him and said "It's not right" before leaving.  Thankfully I didn't have my kids with me.  I'm dropping Chevron a note to see what they say.  I'll let ya'll know if I get a response.

Little girl buying candy from the open smut peddler who claims he can do nothing about it.
Go ahead and click to enlarge the image.

Link!

I have art HERE go see it!

Stellar Advice from a Boss

"Fall small, know when to call it off.  Life lessons from the track"
-Shawshank, Houston Roller Derby & Boss

"and every once in a while you should pass the star!"
- BabyFace Assassin, Texas Rollergirls & former Boss

Late Onset Group B Streptococcus Infection

I am a person that has to put distance between a terrible event before I can comfortably talk about it.  When Jack got sick, he wouldn't eat all afternoon.  This from a baby who never missed a time to nurse.  He was crying and crying a terrible little cry that was weak and moany.  It was Friday afternoon and the doctor's office was going to try to fit us in at 3:05.  I called twice to see if they had anything sooner, his little sounds were so torturous and two hours was too long to wait.  His fever worsened and by the time we got to the doctor I was scared.  I was glad I called the doctor instead of trying to wait out the fever. At 103° the pediatrician insisted we go straight to the emergency room.  She said the odd cry was because he was struggling to breath.  I rushed Ella into the car and drove as fast as I could three blocks and found a parking place.  Inside the triage nurse just asked us our names and ran us into the back where doctors swarmed and poked and scratched their heads.  Jack's neck started to swell up as he was going septic.  He was six weeks old.

This video is what it sounds like when a sick infant is having a hard time breathing. This was just before we left for the doctors office.  



I tested negative for Group B Strep (GBS) at the end of my pregnancy so antibiotics were never given.  In fact I've had occasion to be tested again and I'm still negative.  It's a bacterium a good amount of people carry on their skin, it's something you can get from a grocery cart, a handshake, a library book, a baby present.  Most people never know they carry it, because it's a wimpy bacteria killed by penicillin.  For babies it can be deadly.  That is what Jack had.  Babies usually get it when they are born, it's very unusual for a six week old to get it, but it happens.  Late onset Group B Strep can lead to meningitis, brain damage, hearing loss, life long handicaps or even death.  Jack escaped all of those things.  He's scrappy like that.  I stayed in the NICU with him for 13 days while he received intravenous sterile antibiotics. He responded well to them in the first few days and so doctors were optimistic.  I lived in dread of his IV falling out again.  His veins were so small and hard to find to get it back in was a delicate catastrophe of blowing out vein after vein, searching under the skin with a needle and holding him down.

Leading up to the day Jack wouldn't eat, he had a rash.  It looked like a heat rash all over his face, I called ask-a-nurse and she suggested if that was the only symptom he had that is was likely baby acne and I should just keep a close eye on it.  It was hard to tell if he was sleeping out of the ordinary, or acting differently, we just met and I wasn't sure what the usual Jack behavior was yet.  Once he was in the hospital and on the antibiotics the rash went away, almost immediately.  It wasn't baby acne, heat rash, 'stork bites' or sensitive skin, it was infection running all over his whole body.  By the time Jack got a fever, the strep bacteria was winning, his white blood cell count was in the hundreds.

This was Jack's rash

I still wonder how his stay at the hospital effected him, how it may or may not have shaped his personality or pain tolerance or zest for life. He is so much like my littlest brother who was born with a club foot and endured similar poking a prodding and even surgeries.  He's spirited and particular, funny and bright, he figures a thing out quickly and is awesomely coordinated - both Jack and my brother. 

This is strong, scrappy Jack now.

July is Group B Streptococcus Infection Awareness month, the same month Jack was born.  I'm posting this now though because it's important and I was finally ready to say it.  One in four pregnant women carry it.  All doctors here in the U.S. test for it.  It's not something most people need to worry about, just something you should be aware of.  It's far scarier and more dangerous to put our baby in the car and drive everyday.  I have only this advice, wash your hands often, if your baby is under six months old and has a fever - see a doctor right away and if you feel something is "off" or "wrong" follow your intuition, it's hardly ever wrong. 

A Change is Gonna Come

Dear friends and family, after 19 years Dan and I are splitting up. This is very difficult for both of us. Together, we decided at the end of this school year, the children and I will move back to the Midwest. We know it is better for them to be near their extended family. All of us are looking forward to new beginnings and happier days.

Deviled Dish

I noticed yesterday Jack would only eat fruity Cherrios if they were lined up in a row.  He likes his food to be orderly.  Today at the resale shop, I picked up the best dish ever, for .49¢.  He ate everything on his plate.   

Remind me later to add this to my resume under "Can solve difficult problems efficiently and in a creative way."

Living in Toddler Land

While everyone else is drinking beer and cheering on our home town Hockey players, I am in the lobby holding a sugared pretzel and the hand of my son.  To his squealy delight, we are riding the escalator for the fifteenth time and flirting with the ushers on two levels, flashing them tiny smiles and bashful waves.  I can hear the crowd cheer for fisticuffs on the ice and I am getting a high five for successfully jumping at the end of the moving stair-ride.  It's odd to exist in an alternate parallel universe and when I see other parents on the same plane as us, we smile at each other in exhausted recognition.

In Toddler Land, loud noises are scary, anything mechanical and near the floor demands ample time for inspection, there are only a few good foods (cheese and macaroni and cheese,) you never have a clean shirt, and nobody speaks the language.  Time is fluid in Toddler Land; a simple wait in line at the grocery store is long enough to attempt to juggle a TV Guide, Bubblelicious and Carmex into the cart, cry about the grapes going into the bag, get tangled up in a purse strap, make new friends and wipe something sticky on the lady behind you and demand to hit all the buttons on the check out key pad.  A single stop light can last five years if there is crying involved and alternately; seventeen  hours can't possibly be enough time to play trains, nor is three months enough time to hear that one song.  Luckily the free flowing Gift Economy is solid and fueled with sticky kisses, pearly smiles and tight hugs which is why everyone in Toddler Land is rich.

Saturday Roller Derby Recap

Via Kiki @ I Still Hate Pickles.  I'm in there!

Cartoons

Go see THIS and THIS. I have art there!

day three

The real hair-do test comes the first day you don't have the stylist's magic and the expensive potions in your bathroom and you don't have time to blow dry.  So here it is air dried, like it would look after the pool or at the beach or any busy morning.  Yay for genius stylists.

The Kilted Coiffeur

A guy at the copy shop said to me, "Wow you have such long hair, let me guess, your husband won't let you cut it."  I took immediate offense as I realized I looked like a person who had no control over how I wear my hair.  I replied "No, I'm just lazy and haven't had it cut in three years."  I started looking at it in the mirror, all the heavy locks that I usually just put in a bun every day.  The same long, heavy, dark mane I had in college.  I once read that people keep their hair in the style they had when they had the most fun in life. I think about this when I see women with the big bouffant feathered hair from the 80s, I think about it when you see comb overs and mullets and I was thinking about it looking in the mirror.  Just six years ago I had a pixie (see profile picture on the right) so clearly I'm not hanging onto the past.... or am I. "Oh no" I thought.

So, I looked online for a hair cuttery close to home, I read reviews and perused a few websites before I found The Kilted Coiffeur who said "Love Your Hair, Every Day"... Nope I didn't love my hair, not any of the days.  Sometimes I loved it just after I blow dried it and flipped it upside down and was standing in a certain light, just slightly to the left, but only for about five minutes and I wanted to love it every day now that I thought about it.  I stalked The Kilted Coiffeur on Facebook, carefully looking at all the hair and eye-balling the stylist to see if it was someone I thought I might want to talk to while being coiffed.  Dark thick nerdy glasses, asymmetrical hair cut, standing next to Rachael Ray smiling - yep, that was the guy.  That was the guy I wanted to save me from being a dowdy housewife, the guy I could trust to figure out what I needed.  I called him, he was out of state teaching a class solidifying my choice.  I booked an appointment online.

On this St. Patrick's day morning I got up early and ran out of the house while the children slept, not knowing what I wanted my head to look like.  Michael, quite literally, Thee Kilted Coiffeur, walked in for his first appointment (me) wearing an actual kilt and carrying bagpipes slug over his shoulder, no I'm not even kidding.  He has an event tonight where he'll play bagpipes, but I like to think he wore the kilt in recognition of my new do.  We talked about my hair and I explained the last cut (years ago) wasn't my favorite and how I'm scared and hyper critical now.  I think I mentioned I was going blog about it too so really no pressure at all (haha!) Michael made his suggestion and I said "do it." I trusted him. He chopped a big hunk off the bottom and held it up like a savage Celt who just got a rabbit.  I was happy to see it go.  Then scissors were flying.  I felt the weight coming off and off and off and off and finally an hour and a half later...

What I'm not sure you can see is how freaking soft and bouncy my hair is.  Get ready for the slew of photos of my head so I can show it off and try to convey how awesome it is.  I keep shaking my head like some kind of Prell commercial just to feel it move.  On this day I love my hair and I think probably I will tomorrow too and when I'm not feeling the love so much, I'll just call Michael again.  

The Kilted Coiffeur Studio Salon

12010 Jones Road Suite 105

Houston, Texas 

713.518.2173

KiltedCoiffeur.com

Two Wheels!

Not to be outdone on milestones this week, Ella and Grandpa perfected bike riding on two wheels!

Curls

I was afraid to get his hair cut because I didn't want his little curls to go away so I just cut the bangs hanging in his eyes.  Then someone mentioned "his cute little mullet" and that was the straw that broke the mother's back.  I took him to the hair cuttery while Grandpa is visiting.  Sitting in the little car went a long way and the barber was fast and efficient.  She was used to getting her photo taken and said often times she has the whole extended family circling and taking photos like paparazzi.  She did a wonderful job, the curls are still there and Jack looks less like a chubby toddling baby and more like a tall scrappy boy.

Woman

Happy International Women's Day.  On this day, I propose we redefine feminine. Let's get rid of ridiculous societal gender constructs, it would solve a lot of problems.

currently:
fem·i·nine/ˈfemənin/

Adjective:	Having qualities or appearance traditionally associated with women, esp. delicacy and prettiness.
Noun:	The female sex or gender.
Synonyms:	adjective.  female - womanly - womanlike noun.  female

I propose:
fem·i·nine/ˈfemənin/

Adjective:	Having a vagina.
Noun:	The female sex or gender.
Synonyms:	adjective.  female - woman  noun.  female

Just Words

It is believed if you know the name of a demon, you have the power to summon it with a simple utterance. We wait with tender hearts over our babies singing and cooing until they call upon us with one sweet word.

We pledge our allegiance; we pray; we vow; we debate, sway, teach and command; we change the world with words.

Mr. Limbaugh let slip his loathing of women by flinging around the word "slut", with such ease that he mistakenly used it. He assigned this word such little importance, it accidentally fell from his face, as if he, who makes a living on the backs of words, didn't understand its power.

The ease of which profanity slips from swirling frothy hate filled mouths like fouled laundry slopping out the front of a broken washing machine door, offends humanity.

Some words come with a history, they are sacred or profane and if your business is words, then you should know which are what, like any decent preacher, legislator, poet, or tattoo artist.

What About the Mens?

From Bill modeled after similar legislation to help women make informed decisions

"..."By implementing more intensive screenings before prescribing the medication and requiring outpatient educational services, we can do more to prevent the potential side effects linked to PDE-5 inhibitors," Senator Turner explained. "We must advocate for the traditional family, protect the sanctity of procreation, and ensure that all men using PDE-5 inhibitors are healthy, stable, and educated about their options--including celibacy as a viable life choice. This legislation will do just that."

more posters at Strollerderby