Happy 4th Birthday Jack

Jack turns four today.  He's a funny guy.  He never stops moving, not unless he's sleeping, and since he started talking, he does it almost non-stop.  He's curious and caring and adventurous and likes birds and worms and sports and painting and anything with wheels, and tools - especially hammers and nails and the color "lellow." He likes to dance, loves the beach and just discovered you can slide down the carpeted front hall stairs. I'm proud of him every day for wearing me out and making us all so happy.

Another Dear So and So Letter in which I Get to be Snide.

Dear Dude glaring at me while I use the only mat in the whole YMCA to stretch on after running two and a half miles on that awful machine I hate,

I will only be visiting while the down-town branch gets newer and better machines and then I won't be stretching my calves and other yoga bits on the mat you had planned on rubbing your balls up against for the next ten minutes.  Please stop glaring at the side of my head and just get your butt down here and your legs spread with your shorty shorts right next to me, there's plenty of room and really I can't stop what I'm doing to move on to the next thing or my legs will cramp up into horrendous knots of gristly, tangled, painful meat.  Also, you should get the disinfectant spray and wash your ball sweat off the mat when you're done so the next unsuspecting push-up doer from the down-town branch who doesn't realise this is your own personal mat available for only your ball rubbing use won't have to go nose down in your crotch funk.

Sincerely,
The Slow Stretcher invading your space who will henceforth disinfect everything at the East branch before using it.

Summer Family Painting 2014

He Makes Me Laugh

"Mom, let me squish you're belly and see if you're funny." Jack age 3

Dumb

Toddlers aged 2-3 being medicated for ADHD?!! 

What is wrong with people.

Link

Once We Become Parents We Don't Want to Hang Out With You Anymore (But Not for the Reasons You Think)

yep.

Who Buys This Crap Part III

Who Buys This Crap Part II

Who Buys This Crap Part I


***


This was selling at Walmart last week.

See something - Say something. 

Artist's Statement

I've started working on illustrations for my second children's book.  I'm very excited about it but now the hard work of getting the vision in my head down onto paper happens.  It's not actually hard work, the work is... time warping. It's like stepping into a different dimension and waking up after a large amount of time has passed and I don't exactly have a handle on my surroundings and there's art in front of me.  Last time I was putting together a show I lost my keys twice, my wallet once and three pounds.  When I finish a project my head feels swimy like I just had a huge complicated dream with codes and instructions and the secret to everything whispered to me by phantom caterpillars riding on surf boards. How do you put that into an artists statement? I'm supposed to be trying to sound intelligent and telling the viewer something about my process yet, all I can muster is "I went somewhere and when I came back there was this."

Orange Juice

A Boy and His Pool Noodle Snake

Jack loves to watch Sanjay and Craig with his green pool noodle wrapped around his middle. That is all.

Oh Lolli, Lolli, Lolli...

These pictures were all taken yesterday at various places in my house.  Here's the thing; I have never bought a lolli-pop.  But apparently the whole world thinks my kids should have one.  The doctors office, bank tellers, the grocery check out ladies and every valentine.  The kids give a polite thanks and then hoard them, probably in the same place they keep their marbles, markers without lids and endless supply of stinky socks rolled into a ball.

I've pulled them out of car seats, off the carpet out of hair and even off the top of the toilet tank.  I'm not even sure Jack knows there is a center in a tootsie roll pop.  He just gets some taste and says "nope" laying it down wherever.  Ella thinks all lollis have a chewy center of; candy, gum or just plain paper stick.  Later I find a soggy half spit ball - half lolli stick, while reaching into a pants pocket or leisurely sliding my hand under a couch pillow.

I can't stop them.  The nice folks who give them out always ask.  But that's the thing... they always ask in front of the kids.  "Can they have a CANDY?" and then I sense a tremor of excitement emanating from the adorable cherubs who's very flappy eye-lashes enticed sugar from the finger tips of a stranger.   And that's the point of no return already.  Unless they've been terrible, it's impossible to say no without being the meanest Mom in the history of ever.

I realize what a stupid first world problem it is to be all winey about free candy.  How affluent does a society have to be, before they give what was once only available to royalty, away to every human that walks by? And how much more affluent does a society have to be before mothers start complaining about it? Cripes.

Messes We Made Before 10am

Pencil

I found this in Ella's pocket.  

Machinery

Depress this button and observe the delicate steel arm swing up with an immediate satisfying click.  Now the paper is changed forever. Steady snapping from brain to page.  Look child, this is how a machine works. Before vacuum tubes and silicone circuits and plasma screens and 3-D printers this is how pulleys and levers changed the world.

I'm glad you said you liked the font.

Polar Ham

It's eighteen below zero, that's -39° F with the wind-chill. School is closed. The dog refuses to go outside to pee and I'm not even mad about it.  I'm going to bake a ham today for a really long time in the oven.  I'm putting it in at 11am and putting a can of 7up on it like my Mother-in-law used to and then I'll put it on low and slow and often go in the kitchen to lean against the stove and see how it's doing.

What I Wanted

I wanted to write a piece about what it might be like living as an artist in a socialist nation.  I wanted to make five tins of fudge and fold all the laundry.  I wanted to sand that slice of oak from my grandparents' forest until it was smooth and soft and glassy. I wanted to send out letters telling people what happened all year and I wanted to make it to the gym and to give blood and have a new key made and get stamps at the post office. I wanted more day in this day.

How Poetry Works

You have some lines that roll around in your head against the rough edges of your thoughts until they're polished into a shiny little gem... or turd, depending.

The toaster lasted

Longer than the marriage

In my defense

It was a damn good toaster.

I made him wear mittens

Reasons My Son is Crying

I Boo these Boots

I have some lovely knee high faux leather biker boots I usually wear in the winter.  They're pretty beat up and I retired them this fall.  I wanted to spend a little more and get the exact same boot but in leather this time so they'd last more than the seven years I had the last ones.  I could only find them ankle height.  My feet hurt and they've been cold.  Tonight I went out to shovel the walk and move the car into the driveway and I threw on the old boots.  That was when I realized how much the new ones suck.  Having warm feet for me is everything in the winter.  After today I said I'd like to wear two little snuggly fuzzy baby bears turned inside out and dipped in whale oil on my feet if that's what kept my toes from going numb with cold but tomorrow I think I'll set out to look for some nice rubberized fluffy synthetic somethings instead.  Hopefully I'll find something that doesn't break the bank.  I may shop in the men's department.

Self Made

Among the busy bustle of the everyday living of one adult and two kids my son decided to potty train himself.  He and his sister are different in so many ways.  She was content to hang out and quietly color, play with small toys and/or join in the adult conversation.  He wants to chase the dog and climb tall and dangerous things and in general keep me on alert every minute of the day.  But it's incredible he decided he wanted to be done with diapers and then ever more that's how it was.  No effort from me.  It's how he is, when he decides something he figures it out and just does it for himself.  He can load his own dvds into the computer - starting with turning it on, he can pour a bowl of cereal (milk supervised), he can get dressed all on his own and I imagine soon he'll have how to drive the car figured out.  I think he'll be one of those guys people say is a self made man, but hopefully the kind that looks back into the camera and says "Hi Mom!"

Lottery

Sure, I could stop worrying how to make ends meet and I'd have way better health care, but I'd still live right here, I'd still drive my same car, I'd still eat my favorite breakfast ever - toast and coffee, I'd still fold my own socks when they come out of the dryer and I'd still be trying to get the kids to eat more vegetables.  I think I would travel just a little more to some prettier places and maybe I'd have a second car to zoom around town in, something small and red perhaps, and I could give a little more to the charities I like.  I'd still be looking for a reliable babysitter for my family to fall in love with.  For sure I'd have a bigger bathtub and a fluffier bed.  But mostly, you'd find me here, raising my babies, typing posts for this blog and getting the good pen out to draw and paint things for people I love, just like always.

Rainy Autumn Wednesday in the Midwest

We are in the house playing with rediscovered toys and books, realizing how funny we can be contorting our faces into monstrous imaginings after shouting "Hey! Watch this!"  We eat toast and milk and oranges.  We wish for snow.  We chase the dog around in the big circle of open space on the first floor and squeal at the clickitty clickitty noise her nails make on the wood, through the kitchen, the dinning room, the living room, the entryway, the hallway and back again to the kitchen, times ten. We stare closely at a house spider before giving her a one way ride in a drinking glass out the backdoor.  We fold some laundry and watch an episode of cartoons.  We make animal noises and talk about all the colors in the rainbow.  We count each other's toes.  We watch out the window for the school bus to go by heralding the arrival of another playmate.

First Attempt at an Apple Swan

#ThingsMyKidWon'tEat

Boots

Of five shoe stores in town I found one pair of boy's snow boots toddler size 10 for $39.99 and got a lead on another pair at another store for $69.99.  We looked at literally walls of girl's boots by the hundreds all sparkly and lighting up, full of characters and exotic furs in every color, lacing, zipping and velcro-ing this way and that in a veritable playground of fasteners.  For boys, the aesthetic choices dwindle to a meager; cars, super hero, or camouflage pull-on style and if you narrow that down even further to an actual size the choices were none and none.

When I got in the car and called the place with Footwear in the name of the store, the clerk offered the only pair of boy's toddler boots they had on the shelf, but they were a size too small and would I like to put a hold on them anyway?...  I declined to pounce on the idiotic opportunity to have her take something I could never use and hoard it behind the counter awaiting my desperate arrival.  I'm not sure if she expected me to buy boots too small for my boy and jam his foot in there anyway or if she was just on autopilot but I was clearly the only one bothered by the suggestion.

He's going to wear them for four months tops if he doesn't outgrow them first.  They need to entice him enough for him to want to wear them.  I just want him to have a fluffy pair of mukluks in a racy red for sledding in.

Mummenschanz Breakfast

Pecatonica Library Art Gala Auction

These Packed Days

I had another one of those nonstop days packed with doctor's appointments, grocery store errands, leaf raking, sick tree diagnosing, scheduled after school activities followed by open house, book fair and a 7:30pm cooking of three different dinners for my picky people, with a liberal dose of dog hair and some potty training and the day felt as arduous as this run on sentence.

It all moves so fast I hardly have time.  I keep taking photos, hoping at some point I will be able to sit down and see what happened.  I imagine, the day after Jack goes to college looking through seven hundred thousand photos and laughing at how busy and frazzled it all was.  And then I'll sleep for a week.

I'd like to give Rainfall Films some money

http://rainfall.tv/

Short Order Cook

"Nope"

Damn You Fake Cheesemakers

I accidentally bought two pounds of fake cheese. I'm pretty pissed off about it.  It was in the cheese aisle and it said "SHREDDED imitation MONTEREY JACK"  Then I was at home preparing a home made pizza with insane mounts or vegetables on it and I grabbed handfuls of this stuff and thought "that doesn't feel right."  After spreading it, I tasted it and went back to the label to read that it's great for salads but doesn't melt.  I had to throw the whole uncooked pizza in the garbage.  I just couldn't see a way to scrape handfuls of shredded imitation cheese off an uncooked pizza.  I was so mad, I resolved to return the rest of the bag t the store and chew someone out for even selling the junk.  Can you imagine how crazy I'm going to sound?  But damnit someone must pay.  With the amount of ingredients in it, I can't understand how this stuff is easier to make than cheese and it still has whey in it so it's not even like it's good if you have a milk allergy.  Again I say Damn you fake cheese makers and seller - you suck!

Accidental Waxing AKA Things I Shouldn't Post But*...

So whenever my three year old get's water in his eyes, or a bit of a runny nose he get's all OCD and has to wipe it off immediately.  This makes his top lip my top worry when he has a cold.  I have to follow him around trying to sneak coco butter onto his face when he's not paying attention. Ever try to sneak something onto someone elses face?  Usually you have to wait until they pass out... only instead of drawing funny moustaches or putting shaving cream in his hand, I'm trying to just moisturize his chapped lip.

Anyway this OCD of face wiping also makes me nervous as hell while swimming.  Why?... What's the nearest piece of fabric for him to wipe his water splashed face with in the pool? The front of MY swim trunks. Let me tell you he's not dainty about it.  He grabs a big hand full of nylon swimming suit and yanks it towards his watery eye.  Packed into that hand full of swim suit is all the normal short curly things hidden behind an adult's swim trunks.  Yeaaah... so he's got this hand full and he yanks it towards his eye and I try real hard not to scream.  The first time it happened we were swimming at the lake and it was soo fast I yelled "WTF!" only not the letters, the whole schlemiel.  This only made people turn around and look to see if I was getting eaten by a shark, or losing part of my swim suit; which are the only two reasons anyone yells at the beach (and in fact, the later was happening to me.)

So, I learned very quickly not to draw attention to myself when the kid is trying his best to yank everything between my bare skin and the sunshine off in public.  Now, every time some little snot from the YMCA day camp yells "Cannonball!" and takes a flying leap, I have to either have to throw my body in the path of the splash destined for my toddler's eye, or dunk down low enough to ensure my tankini top gets clawed off instead of an impromptu crotch waxing in the shallow end.  Go ahead and add this to the list of things things you can't put in the baby book.

*A lot of times I don't post stories about the kids because I know, eventually, they'll be fifteen and not want their stories out floating around the interwebs, but when one of them repeatedly makes my eyes water with pain like that, it's no longer about them. It becomes my story to tell.  (Sorry kid.)

photo by nikoline

Rambling

We planned a beach party and it was supposed to be today.  It's 66 degrees today and overcast with a chance of rain.  Last week it was in the low hundreds and the kid had to wear pants and cowboy boots for horse camp.  Apparently I had my weeks switched.

I had to dig back into the back of the closet for the boxes with sweatshirts last night before we went to the movie in the park.  We only made it half way through "Brave" before we packed up and went home because we were shivering.  I'd like to see the end of "Brave" one of these days.  It seemed like a super good movie.

My leg hurts when it gets cold.  Like a giant foot cramp hurt.  I hope it's not like that all winter.

Sat night memorial for a friend who passed

July 4th 2013

I said to Jack "You gotta wave your arms and yell "Right HERE!"" and he did.  He waved his arms and yelled "I RIGHT HERE!" and they threw candy and he picked it up and said "I did it!" followed by a happy candy dance.

Then we saw Grandpa ride by on his motorcycle. 

And we picked cherries in Grandpa's back yard.

Later, I went to the butcher shop where I ran into the mayor and saw these two stray dogs hanging out waiting for people to drop a package of fine meat on the ground.

A very nice young lady grabbed them and called the dog catchers and then I wondered if I was stuck in a Tom & Jerry cartoon.  Maybe I am the lady who's feet are featured in all the episodes... Nope, can't be, I still have a splint on my leg.

Later tonight, we'll go downtown and sit on a blanket and watch fireworks. Ella will soak it all in, Jack will cover his ears and hide his face in my lap.  I'm sorta glad that explosions scare him.  He's too much of a daredevil to love fireworks without giving me a heart attack.

Preparations

I open the front window just a few inches.  Bird song and cool morning air hit my bare legs while I sip coffee and unfold the paper. Two days of school left before the kid is running home from third grade. One week left before I do a jig up and down the halls of the orthopedist's office sans clunky cast, I hope. Then, we'll get start ticking things off the Fifty Fun Things To Do Summer 2013 List.  I'm putting roller coasters on the list.

Say it Sister!

THIS is brilliant.  I'd even send kickstarter money to put this together.

Five Things I feel Outstanding About

1. Being up at an early enough hour to get one kid off to school after the other kid was up barfing in the night.

2. Using up the entire train table by making three loops, including a bridge with the wooden train set.

3. Giving Jack a super cute, mostly even, tear-free haircut with kitchen scissors, while he sat on the coffee table and watched cartoons.

4. Keeping three house-plants alive.

5. Spring.

6. Getting the dishes into the dishwasher.

7. Eating oranges.

8. Not turning the AC on yesterday.

9. Toast.

10. Overshooting this list by double.

Humorless Feminist

THIS!

because

"...all the people who deviate from those privileged "norms," and all the ways the rest of the world has indoctrinated you into that system of privilege, and socialized you to believe it's the natural and right and immutable state of the world, and all the shills for the kyriarchy who fill the ether with self-reinforcing rubbish on a constant loop so you swim in a sea so thick with the detritus of Othering that you don't even notice it on a conscious level anymore, and all the bullies who emerge to kick you back in line if you do, if you have the temerity to question the message, and all the other bits and bobs of the brainwashing to which we are all subjected since the day we're born as part of scheme, nearly incomprehensible in scope, to ensure that challengers to these traditions are never made, and, if they're born, are squashed with the weight of mountainous tidal waves of blowback in the other direction…? The purveyors of that shit are the goddamn thought police.

 And you know what one of the biggest lies they tell you is?

 That it's the other way around."

Day Three of Broken Leg

Sitting still is driving me crazy.  I do a bazillion things in a day and it's been reduced down to about four things.  In a way it is good because I wasn't even aware my kids knew how to pick their toys up off the floor and do the dishes.  Haha!  Guess what sort of things will continue even when I'm back on my feet!

***

I asked people for stickers for my big plastic cast and so far I have a bunch.  They make me super happy to look at.  Jack likes to count them and name them all. I think I'll see some in the mail from TX soon and that makes me excited to see the mail man and it reminds me of how much I miss my derby family in TX.

***

Early this morning the sun was peeking up into my bedroom window and poking me in the eyelid, I was half asleep and then my body did that big twitch thing right before you fall all the way back to sleep and - holy schmolies!  It hurt like crazy and I woke up all the way.  Boo to the big twitch.

I have crazy legs again from not skating and not moving a mile a minute.  I'm going to start cobbling together an ab/sitting down sort of work out thing today so that I can sleep at night without feeling like my legs have electric energy running through them.

***

I need someone to come mow my lawn but I chose to buy an old fashioned push mower from the 1930s.  This because a) my kid can't fall into it and get killed b) I wanted the work out c) it was very cheap and does the job just fine in about an hour d) it's very quiet e) it's great for the environment (no gasoline)  d) there's no motor to break down.  While, these are all fantastic reason to have such a thing, they are overshadowed by the fact that I need someone else to mow for a few weeks and it's sort of sucky to then say "But all I have is this very outdated old machine to do it with."  I may just hire a service for the month. ug.

That old push mower will be great when I'm doing leg rehab.

***

"If someone prays for patience, do you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If they pray for courage, does God give them courage, or does he give them opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for their family to be closer, you think God zaps them with warm, fuzzy feelings? Or does he give them opportunities to love each other?"
- From the movie Evan Almighty

I am looking at the opportunities presented and I think She wants me to learn to let go of the "perfect" picture I have in my head of how things should go.  I have to stop micromanaging and let people do things even if it's not the way I would do it. Not just now when I'm gimpy, but ever after.  It's an opportunity to learn to accept help without resenting needing it. This is not a situation I can power through with sheer will and strength, it's not something I can even think my way out of. It's an opportunity to learn patience and appreciation to the nth degree.

***

I am very lucky to have the people I have in my life.

Snapped

I was at derby practice last Wednesday and got my skates knocked out from underneath me.  I felt my leg snap on the way down.  I laid on the floor for a second and then got all my gear off before refusing to let the coach call an ambulance and opting for my teammate to drive my car a mile to the packed ER.  I sat in the wheelchair in the hallway behind the magical doors that separate the milling around texting/Angry Birds playing world from the I'm seriously dying part, for about fifteen minutes.  I was moaning,  shaking and trying not to throw up just like having a baby, but they had no beds available. And I couldn't wait in the hall moaning like that, as I was freaking the hurt patients out. "Ma'am if you can't stop that, we'll have to ask you to leave" to which I replied "I really can't heeooooOOOOooooooowlp it!"  She shook her head and wheeled me back into the waiting room to next to toothache guy, sore throat kid and ugly pajamas lady.  She put a slip of paper with the number 5400 in the barf bucket I was holding in my lap and made sure to face me into the corner so nobody could knock into my leg on the way to get a bag of Fritos.  My teammate Mellon Collie ran interference when cops came in and brought a very pissed off and bloody handcuffed lady past.  Mel was ready to hip check anyone that got near my wheelchair. Our trusty track-man, Scott,  held vigil over my leg keeping it steady with his bare hands because the emergency personnel didn't have a board.  We waited while they called out the numbers leading up to 5400, bitterly triaging every person that went in front of me with a quick scan of how they were walking.  Two hours and six x-rays later they put a splint on the back of my leg, wrapped it with an ace bandage and sent me home with instructions to call a doctor.  

The next morning I called the number they referred, before I even got out of bed.  They said they'd call me back and let me know when I could come in.  Hours went by.  I called back in and they said "Ma'am, it takes 24 to 48 hours for the doctor to review your records and then we will call you to let you know what we have available." I had just gotten the 'don't call us, we'll call you' from someone who wouldn't even use my name.  I thought about the wait the night before.  Then I refused.  I looked up orthos in my city and called the next doctor, who's secretary Pam, said she would talk to the doc and get my x-rays sent over and call me back.  Five minutes later Pam was on the phone again telling me I should come in to see Dr. McCarty right now. I did.  But first I took a little joy in calling the first ortho back to tell them I'd gotten in somewhere else immediately.  They apologized.  They explained their triage department usually gets back to people sooner. They said if it was a break, they didn't know what could be taking so long.  They said they'd make a note about it in the file.  I cringe to think what the note says about me.  Dr. McCarty put an air cast on my leg.  It gets big and small to allow for swelling and looks like a big piece of machinery.  It has plastic armour on the outside and holes for pumping it up and velcro to hold it on and since it's not the signing type of cast, I'd like to get some stickers for decorating it.

Leadership Skills

40

Today was pajama day and school.  The Kid was so excited about the prospect of jumping out of bed and going straight to school in the stuff she slept in that she got up at 6am and asked every twenty minutes if it was time to go yet.  The Baby on the other hand was sawing logs up until I carried him out to the car because he was up partying and jumping on the bed until 1am.  So, today I exist on this low mellow plane where nothing can happen very fast because I'm still half asleep and the whole day is surreal. 

***

I had to edit it down to 200 words or less.  It was excruciating but worth it. Last Sunday my letter to the editor was published in the Rockford Register Star.

"Last week we ventured to Midway Village in Rockford, IL for the WWI re-enactment. Face to face with history, we learned about blacksmithing, typesetting, and the American Red Star Animal Relief. That afternoon, I gathered my children close, among the crowd, for a battle re-enactment. My daughter squeezed into me admitting she was scared. I hugged her telling her war is scary, you have to be brave. The crowd hushed as rounds of blanks exchanged, men fell clutching themselves, quietly closing their eyes. When the shooting stopped, a chorus of women's voices rose. Wearing sashes, they emerged yelling, "What do we want!" "The right to vote!" "When do we want it?!" "Now!" I whispered to my daughter to raise her fist in solidarity with the Suffragettes. We stood proud as the women of our past marched and men standing among us laughed and yelled "No!" On Saturday afternoon, amidst jeers from the crowd, my nine-year-old daughter not only learned of the struggles of history, but the struggles ahead. One in which the men we stand next to think it's hilarious to yell "No!" to women's rights. Thanks guys, for teaching her early why she needs to be brave."

***

After getting to captain my team to a win last weekend against the Decatur Derby Dames (141 to 101) I bought myself tall black athletic socks from Sock Dreams and this derby patch from Donna "The Hot Flash".  Today it's official I can sew it onto my warm up jacket.  Happy Birthday Me!




***

Vivian Maier

Things I Like

Links!

The Rockford Blog

Thigh High Stripped Tube Socks

Hair Doos from Epoch

Mythbusters Tour again

Rhinocerotes

Cool things for the house

Skateboarding in the shower

Mmmm, Digestive Flavored

No, I haven't tried one yet.  I'll let you know how it goes.   

Those Are Called Jobs, Your Supposed to Pay People To Do Them.

In December of 2012 Unemployment in Rockford was double the unemployment rate of Arlington Heights, IL. That's on average, how we are, with comparable cities across the nation.  Often there is public lauding of a business who is adding as few as ten jobs to the market.  People have to move away to find work.  Crime is on the rise.  Forbes pronounced the city Miserable and our idiotic Convention and Visitors Bureau, in forgetting they were talking to visitors, agreed in a colossally failed inside joke that went over the heads of everyone who's wasn't from here.   The help wanted ads in the local paper simply no longer exist.  They've been replaced with people selling puppies and having garage sales to scratch out extra money. So when I do see a job in the paper, I read about what it is, I feel a little excited that someone is hiring. Just this week I saw this one:

Wait.  Go back and read it again... I did.  I had to read it four times.  Then I checked their website FlyRFD.com.  To get one of these positions one must comply with a list of requirements; 

"...must work cooperatively and courteously with diverse groups of people; be able to access multiple references in a timely manner in response to customer requests for information; demonstrate oral and interpersonal communication skills, and have the ability to respond calmly in emergency situations. A basic knowledge of the internet or the ability to learn basic computer skills is necessary. The ability to travel to/from the airport in all types of weather conditions is required..."

The website goes on about dress code and age qualifications, minimum education requirements and finally gives you a link to an application... to apply for one of these volunteer positions... where the pay is a shirt and a nifty airport jacket.

Holy shit-balls RFD! Are you sure you can get off the ground with balls that big?!  That sounds a whole lot like jobs you are trying to fill without paying anyone to do them. Is this what we're doing now?  Asking for Volunteers?!  If so, Hey, I'd like to offer up the wonderful Ambassador Lawn de Bombadee Position for the summer.  Applicants must be extremely proficient in lawn maintenance, know how to repair small gas engines in case my mower sucks, must adore weeding as well as  laundry and taking out the garbage.  A basic knowledge of tree houses and tomato plants is a plus.  Volunteers will receive a brand new sharpie-personalized fruit of the loom t-shirt and one PB&J.  

Or here are some other places you can volunteer your time this summer: 

Rockford Food Pantry

Rockford Habitat for Humanity

Remedies - Emergency Domestic Violence Shelter

Rockford Rescue Mission

Noah's Ark - Animal Sanctuary

Big Brothers Big Sisters YMCA

I would even bet these organizations don't have $122,568,336.00 in international airport assets for 2012. 

Adjustable Purse Strap Hack

The strap of my favorite buttery leather black purse wasn't leather, it was pleather and it fell apart. I was going to take it to a saddle shop and have a new one put on and then I got an easier idea. I bought a .99cent belt at Goodwill and attached it. Now it's adjustable. Favorite purse is now even favoritier - Yay!

Bag Lady

My version of this commercial

Diaper bag 

First kid:
Tupperwear of goldfish
Fruit snacks
Apple
Change of clothes
5-6 diapers
Wipes
Changing pad
Diaper rash cream
Q-tips for sterile application of rash cream
Sippy cup
Extra hair ties
Books
Dolly
Wallet
Keys
Phone
Five crayons, one of each color
Small hand made coloring book
Chapstick
Hair brush
Baby jacket
Kleenex
Band aids

Second kid:
Wallet
Phone
One diaper
Wipes
Chapstick
Keys
Banana
One inch plastic t-rex

Crafty

Keeping it Classy

There's always the lady with two or three carts and her army of children aimlessly standing around in my way.  There's that one guy who's knees are bad and he's riding in the store provided hoveround with all his body spilling over in all the places, and in his cart I see seven cases of diet soda and thirty pizzas.  I see fifty teenagers I'd like to kick for dressing stupid and at least three old ladies who are taking their time comparing prices in front of the thing I want to get out of the cooler.  I say all this to make myself feel better than them,  while I am standing at Walmart, trying to figure out what sort of wine goes with corn dogs and freedom fries, while my crying two year old tries to escape the cart and my nine year old is whacking him on the head with a french bread in an attempt to beat him back into his seat.

Advice

Lead by example. - Fortune cookie fortune found in my Grandma's jewelery box


As you think, so shall it be. - Proverb 23:7


One million starts with one. - My daughter Ella


It's not supposed to be anything.  - From Pleasantville written by Gary Ross


Opportunity dances with those who are already on the dance floor. - H. Jackson Brown


If you want to build a ship, don't drum up people to collect wood and don't assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea. - Antione De Saint Exupery

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What?

Jack was ill when he was young and as a result has some hearing impairment on the left.  Nobody knows how much, it's just that the little hairs in there don't move like they should.  This could mean he hears nothing or something or everything and we just need to wait until he can talk more to find out.  The doctor said, because he can hear completely with his right ear, his language should be just fine, but the fact is Jack doesn't talk very much.  He's the second child, and a boy, and busy with riding motorcycles and drawing things, and when he does speak he's just not very good at it yet and Ella or I translate for him when we can or sometimes just take over and speak for him.  We ask him "What? Do you want?  A chip? Cheese? Toast? Milk? Grapes?" He just nods or says "Yay!" when we get to the thing.  This is exactly how not to handle things, I'm sure.

It's hard for me, because I compare him to Ella and her extensive vocabulary at age two.  I know I shouldn't.  It's apples and tigers.  Ella couldn't do a jumping jack until first grade and Jack can pedal a bike and roller skate, but life is far less frustrating for everyone when a common language is spoken.  I've heard him make all the required sounds for speaking English.  He has all the consonants and vowels in his arsenal, it just seems like he doesn't really care about it that much. Some days I'm all lax about it, figuring he'll learn at his own pace and he won't end up in first grade not being able to say 'please' and 'thank you' and other days I hear children at the grocery who seem like big kids to me and they are having a hard time speaking and I get all anxiety filled about Jack's words.  I did talk to a language specialist who wasn't worried, but that was three months ago already.  And what if, that was then and this is now?!

And now as I write this, I see how it is my primary occupation as a mother, to worry non-stop all the time to love these children and trust them to become who they are meant to be.

A Dishwasher Bitches!

I've never been soo excited about a dishwasher.  I have one again.  I like to hear it running. I like to task the eldest kid with emptying it.  She likes to do it.  I like having a dishwasher.  I didn't know how much until I didn't have one.  We left that crummy old cottage and moved about ten blocks south into one of the oldest neighborhoods in Rockford.  It looks like a Normal Rockwell street.  The house we live in is a four square, craftsman style, hundred year old house with cold hardwood floors and a big front porch... and a dishwasher.

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I'm participating in Spring Art Scene in downtown Rockford. Come see it, April 5th & 6th.  The second printing of Toughskin Rhinoceros Wrangler Company is on the conveyor belt.  I have enough room to get paints out again.

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I want to plan some sort of cookout in April around the time I turn forty.  The last time I planned a cookout for my birthday it snowed.  I feel like a celebration is in order for getting this far in life.  There should be cake and dancing.