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