Happy 5th birthday, little man!

Thinking back on these last 5 years I just can't believe the roller coaster ride we've all been on. To celebrate we'll have chocolate cupcakes and mint chip ice cream (your favorite) with your friends at school. Later on we'll celebrate some more and open presents with Grammie and Gramps. Then, after you're all tucked into bed Daddy and I are going down to the local bar to drink... a lot.

Santa's call

Jackson received a call from Santa the other night. This was something I had arranged through our county’s parks and recreation department. Parks and rec provides you with an online form to fill out with information about your child and a time you’ll be home. Then on the chosen night a woman calls, identifying herself as an operator from the North Pole, and says she has Santa on the phone for your child.

A form must be filled out for each child; I only filled out one for Jackson that just happened to include the names and ages of his siblings. But after speaking to Jackson for a few minutes Santa asked if he could speak with Sam. Because, to Santa, Clara at the age of one and a half was too young to talk on the phone but, clearly, an almost 5 year old would be jumping at the chance. So dutifully, with phone in hand, Jackson began walking over to Sam, who was busy yelling and growling in typical Sam fashion. The impending scene began to play out in my head. Jackson holds the phone up to Sam’s ear, Santa begins a conversation and Sam growls deafeningly into the phone. The jolly old man, alarmed by the satanic sounds coming through the phone, clutches his chest while falling to the floor and we’ve just ruined Christmas for children everywhere.

“Wait, Jackson,” I call. “Just tell Santa that Sam can’t talk right now.”

Jackson does as he’s told and the conversation with Santa is wrapped up soon after.

When he’s off the phone Jackson excitedly recounts all the details of his chat with Santa.

“He also told me not to pick on Clara anymore.”

“Really,” I say trying to sound surprised since that was info I had included on the form.

“And to remember to pick my clothes up off the floor and put them in my hamper.”

“Huh. Well, it sounds like that Santa knows what he’s talking about.” I say.

“Yeah, it’s just too bad Sam couldn’t talk to him,” Jackson says with such a deep disappointment that I’m silenced for a few moments.

I pull him close to me for a hug and at that point I’m not sure who is comforting whom. I manage my own sadness over Sam pretty well on a daily basis, but I’m still not very good at managing my sadness over Jackson’s sadness of his brother and all the typical stuff that Sam misses out on. And one day soon Clara may start realizing that Sam has a much harder life than the rest of us and she will probably be sad, too. And this thought makes me very, very sad.

Soon after the event I realize what I should have done when Santa asked to speak to Sam. I should have gotten on the phone myself just to give Santa a heads up before letting him wish Sam a very merry Christmas. But I’m still learning how to be the parent of a special needs child. Next Christmas I’ll do better.

Genitals and religion

While changing Clara's poopy diaper tonight David was complaining about all the hidden crevices.

"Hold on, Clara. You've got poop all over your vagina."

"It's her vulva. The labia majora, labia minora... all the external stuff. The vagina is the internal part."

"Whatever. Can't we just call it a hoo-ha?"

Jackson peeks up from his reading...

"Wait! Did you just say 'minora'? That's what they light for Hanukkah."

Updates

Does that last post really say October 24th? Has it really been so long? I knew I was slacking but, sheesh. Actually I've joined a writing group here and so most of my creative energies have been going in to producing material for that. But tonight as I sit here at my laptop trying to work on a piece I've just not been feeling it. I couldn't come up with anything of quality. So I decided to come here. Because here I can get away with writing complete crap. But just so I can't be accused of writing about absolutely nothing I'll give a few updates:
We got our lawn put in. It's lovely. I'll post pics soon.
The leaves have all turned colors and are falling like crazy. It's lovely. I'll post pics soon.
I have a room of my own finally and it's all set up. It's where I'm sitting now. It's lovely. I'll post pics soon.
My parents are here visiting now through Christmas. It's lovely. I'll post pics soon.
Sam's been having what seem to be headaches so we had another brain MRI done just to be safe. Got the results. It's lovely. I'll post pics.... well, I actually could since I've got the images on disc, but nah... I'll spare you that one.

If all you know is sunny and beautiful, sunny and beautiful, sunny and beautiful

The drought has been a big topic of conversation here in NC. But today we got rain. Lots of glorious rain. And thunder and lightning. As I type this I'm sitting on the back porch listening to the rain pour down through the trees in my yard. Now that may seem like a perfectly normal way to appreciate mother nature but some of the people here take their appreciation to a whole other level. I've been reading some conversations on a local board about the recent rains and I've included some of the best for your reading pleasure:

okay..if your car needs washing .. here's what you do.
put a hat on - big garbage bag over your clothes...empty bucket with rag and little soap...and wash your car!! I just did it and it was really fun . . . and I'll have a clean car..
how's that for water conservation??
oh, and try not to get electrocuted.....

Beautiful Rain!
My Rain Barrel Runneth Over!

I went and reseeded the yard during a break in the storm... I hope the off & on rain over the next few days will keep the birds away from the seed, & that it stays warm enough for it to germinate, so I will keep my fingers crossed.



Being from Vegas , this is the first really real rain I have seen in almost 7 years and it is wonderful..simply wonderful . I didn't wash the car but I did put out a few buckets and an old aluminum washtub to catch the water , so that I can use it to water a bush that I started from a limb( dont laugh ) and will be putting in the ground soon.
My hometown is Gene Kelly's hometown and we know his famous song." I'm singing in the rain"

This isn't the only drought related discussion going on on this board. But being from California what has really surprised me is that when water is scarce here in NC people actually stop watering their lawns! They conserve. They save their bath water to water their plants. They shower every other day. There would be an uprising in southern California if such suggestions were even hinted at.

And then, when the first good rain comes, these people don't just resume normal activity... they celebrate! We weren't the only ones outside on our street tonight marveling at the storm. It's lovely to be amongst people who take the time to notice and appreciate the weather.

Back porch living

I'm typing this while sitting on my screened in back porch, drinking a beer and listening to the cicadas and crickets in the trees. This morning on the porch we enjoyed coffee and breakfast (which was brought over by our new neighbor...seriously) and watched as a family of deer traipsed through our yard.

How awesome is that?

Home, sweet home

We're all moved in. Nothing is unpacked or put away but all 3 kids are freshly bathed and tucked into their beds asleep. David and I are on the couch enjoying the complete quiet and a couple of beers. It's really lovely here. I'll try to put up some photos soon.

And someday we'll be able to afford to furnish it

This is our new house. We just closed on it yesterday despite the fact that our home in California is still on the market. We're still not sure what kind of fuzzy math the mortgage company used to determine that we could actually afford this place. But it's pretty, isn't it? The lawn will be put in in a few weeks once the weather cools off more.

And it will provide milk and cheese for our family

"I know how to solve the poison ivy problem in our yard."

"Oh, yeah? How?"

"We'll get a goat."

"Well then how will we solve our goat problem?"

"Chupacabra!"

We must be doing something right

Today we received Jackson's first progress report from school. What I mean by that is that this is the first time he's received a report from a school that actually quantifies his progress in simple language. His old school would send home a report at the end of the year written in calligraphy on handmade hemp paper that smelled of patchouli and included such phrases as "Jackson has a rich interior life" and "he embraces the routines of the season."

His new school's report evaluated a child on a scale of 1-4 in 5 different areas: science, math, reading, writing and social studies. Our little academic scored 3s (meeting requirement) in 3 of the subjects and 4s (exceeding requirements) in reading and math. I haven't really seen any of the science or social studies work they've been doing since the bulk of the work is reading, writing and math. And Jackson's writing is pretty damn sloppy but I believe this to be not the result of an inadequacy in his writing abilities, but rather due to the fact that he's just plain lazy.

There was also a place for the teacher to check off problems the child is having that needed further attention and, possibly, required a conference. There was nothing checked for Jackson, not even that he has an intense obsession with Pokemon that borders on psychosis. Don't know how she missed that one.

The brother we never told you about

Last night after dinner we were sitting around the table and Clara was being extraordinarily cute.

"She is so dang cute. I'm so glad I had all cute kids."

"Yeah, they're pretty cute... well, except for that one ugly one we have..."

"Who? Which one of us is the ugly one? Is it Sam?"

"No, not Sam."

"Then is it Clara?"

"Nope. It's not Clara either."

"Oh, man..."

"Yep, it's Joe."

This is where all kidding ends and Jackson's face and tone of voice become solemn.

"Who's Joe?"

Southern pests

I've made mention here before of the hippie school that Jackson attended in Kindergarten and 1st grade. Well, thanks to the wonders of YouTube you can experience some of the magic yourself.

The difference between this school and a typical public school have been becoming very obvious to me as Jackson completes his second week at a public school. One of the main unfortunate differences is that Jackson has been coming home from school with chigger bites. That's CH-igger. But, yeah, we worried about that, too.

I'm kidding.

Diversion

David's away for the week. He had to go back to California for work, leaving me with 3 kids during this rocky start to our new life here in NC. All I can say is that it's been the best of times, it's been the worst of times. But more on that in another post. For now let me leave you with this photo I took downtown. You can probably read the large sign that says "Elsewhere". But look closely and you might see that other sign that reads "Closed". Such is life lately.

I'm surprised he didn't ask for us to remove his shackles

Sometimes Jackson gets sent to his room. Some days he gets sent to his room a lot. Like a few weeks ago when we were having a heat wave and couldn't go outside for more than 6 seconds (I timed it) before breaking out in a soul-drenching sweat. Being cooped up in an apartment for several days brings out the worst in everyone. And if you're wondering why we didn't go to the mall or a movie or something then let me remind you. So, anyway, Jackson spent quite a bit of time in his room before the school year started and, one day, I guess he'd had enough because he wrote this and slipped it out his door:

When I'm reminded of the sensitive man I married

David and I were discussing Sam's undesirable behaviors and how we're just not trained how to deal with them.

"We just need someone to come into our home and fix all his behavioral problems."

"We need Super Retard Nanny."

Listen and enjoy

Turn your sound up really loud and have a listen.



That is the sound of our sweet Sam yelling. Yelling is something he does a lot. Now some of the loveliness is lost in the recording but you can probably get the idea that this is not something you want to listen to everyday. But we, as his lucky family, do get to listen to this every damn day.

Here's what I want you to do. I want you to put this onto your iPod or other inferior portable MP3 player. Plug this into some portable speakers, put it on loop and turn it up loud. Now make a really important phone call.

Did you lock yourself in the bathroom so you could hear the other person on the phone? Fine, how about this: tenderly pick up the MP3 player and speakers. Is it bucking, kicking and scratching while yelling? No? Well, count yourself lucky. Now place it in a stroller or some other wheeled contraption and take it for a walk through a quiet neighborhood.

Still doing okay? Put it in the car and drive it to the nearest indoor shopping center. The echo is quite an enhancement and there are more people there to gape in horror.

Feeling a little hungry? Feeling a little brave? You go right ahead and take that thing into a restaurant.

Don't forget to keep it on at full volume for the car ride home. Are your ears bleeding yet?

Okay, last assignment: set it down in a room adjacent to two other rooms containing a man working from his home office in one and a teething and irritable toddler who just went down for a nap in the other.

How ya doing? Still sober?

Okay, then let's do this again tomorrow.

Bedtime brilliance

I had a brilliant thing to write about on my blog last night. I was in bed composing in my head a piece of writing that would have truly blown your mind (I can safely say this because, just wait, you'll see that you'll never actually get to read it). Immediately before I drift off to sleep is when I do my best writing. My mind seems to be a bit looser. I can usually have something laid out start to finish in my mind and all that is required is that I get out of bed and quickly jot it down before it slips away. But I was tired last night. I convinced myself that I would remember it in the morning. I didn't. Nothing. And I blame the children. They are the reason I am so tired at night. The fucking irony is the children are often the inspiration for my writing.

Saxapahaw-haw-haw!

This is one of the reasons we moved to NC. A laid back summer evening with a little something for everyone. Food, wine and music for the adults. And, as David put it, sanctioned chaos for the kiddos. No rules. No crowds. No cover charge.



Saxapahaw Summer Fun from Melinda Shelton and Vimeo.

Jackson started a blog

He wrote a kick-ass poem the other day and it's posted on his blog. You have to go check it out!

A Boy and his Blog

In case you were wondering how we've been doing

Felt like throwing in the towel today. The fantasy of walking away from it all was just sitting there occupying a space in my mind I feared going to. We're in a new town and have been stuck in an apartment with a very energetic 7 year old, a 4 year old who has a yell/growl/call of satan (seriously, I'm going to record it one of these days and loop it on my blog so people will truly understand what it feels like to want to bash your own head against the wall just to make the sound stop), a very sick 1 year old, and a husband who needs quiet because he's working from home. It's about 98 degrees outside with a butt load of humidity on top of that which makes for a real feel of 400 degrees so we can't even just step outside the door for a change of scenery. The doctor's office was our only respite; but even that was short lived as Clara had a knock down drag 'em out tantrum right there in the office because she's sick. Before the dr. helped me put together all the symptoms to come up with a viral infection I was seriously worried that Clara was undergoing some permanent personality change due to the stress of the move and because she missed home and hated NC so far. Or maybe I was just projecting. When we got home Clara was crashed out from the car ride and Sam was happily watching a video so I had some peace with only Elmo's squeeky voice singing in the background. I also had an escape to look forward to because last night as I was lying with a writhing, kicking, screaming toddler at bedtime I had the clarity of mind to realize that my problems didn't have to be solved by finding a new mommy for my children; maybe I could just try exercise instead. So I signed up with a gym and had my first little consult with them this afternoon. I didn't care that Clara would wake up screaming from her nap and David would be the one wondering why we didn't bring all our liquor along with us on the move.

So I got out... without children. And the sun shone and the birds sang. I met Sandy who lives near us and has a sister who lives in the neighborhood we're going to move to. She caught me up on some of the town happenings and filled me in on the (two) coffeehouses in Hillsborough (neither of which is a Starbucks, btw). Then I chatted with a young lad who has a lawn mowing business with his younger brother in our new neighborhood. I got his business card and then drove by our beautiful home under construction, which is surprisingly slated to be finished on time. I also picked up a six pack of some of our favorite beer and it was on sale!

Then I came home. Sam was yelling. And Clara had shut herself in our bedroom because she didn't want David to come near her. And David reminded me of the down side of our home being completed on time: we have no money for a down payment as our house in CA still has not sold.

Ah, but tomorrow is another day full of wonder and hell. Right?

Serving up some guilt and photos

We're in Knoxville, TN tonight and have a big day tomorrow but I wanted to post a few pics for those of you who may not have seen the kids in awhile (like my parents who decided that taking off for 4 months to Alaska, while both their children and all of their grandchildren moved either out of state or out of the country, was a good idea). Okay, dad's probably chuckling a bit after reading that and mom has just been hit with an incredible wave of mother guilt. And mother guilt just sucks so let me just clarify by saying that I harbor no bad feelings toward them about their ill-timed trip. I'm a big girl now and can handle things on my own... unlike when I was accepted into a high school honors program for a summer at UC Davis and had to drive myself to a new town while my parents were off on some vacation somewhere, and there was a family picnic held the first day for the students and their parents but I just stayed in my dorm room.... That's enough, right? Suffice it to say that I'm chock full of character.

Here are the pics to leave you with a smile, Mom.

This first pic requires some explanation: While in Memphis Clara insisted on holding Sam's hand and riding next to him. We weren't able to capture the true sweetness of the event on camera, though.

Remember: you are your child's first teacher

We arrived in Memphis, Tennessee today. And what an improvement over Little Rock, Arkansas. I'm certainly not an authority when it comes to comparing these two cities, but I can say that our 3.5 hours spent in Memphis has already totally outshined the 20 hours we spent in Little Rock. When we got to our hotel today Jackson noticed a bible sitting out on the bedside table. It wasn't hidden away in the drawer like at most hotels, just waiting to be discovered. It was just out there not even pretending that there might be hotel guests who may not be interested in taking comfort in its pages. As if.

"They have a bible here?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"They want you to read it."

"The whole thing? Why"

"So you'll be saved and go to Heaven."

"Saved from who?"

"Yourself."

Teachable moments. See how well I exploited that one? Now before you start sending me hate mail and damning me to Hell I should explain that it's been a long trip and I didn't have the energy to go into any further detail at that moment. And Jackson and I have been having some pretty meaningful talks on religion lately. That just wasn't one of them.

In Jackson's "What Your First Grader Should Know" they have several chapters on the major religions. And the reason we're reading this book is because the hippie school that we sent Jackson to for 2 years hasn't done much to prepare him for the harsh reality of public education. I bet your thinking this is a bad thing..... Anyway, we read about Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. Hinduism and Buddhism are discussed in the subsequent second grade book because those are for the more advanced reader. Crap. I didn't really mean that. But the Eastern religions are what all the cool kids are into these days. Anyway, after our reading we had a nice discussion about Jesus. Now I'm not a big subscriber to any one religion but I do take interest in Jesus as an historical figure. But that whole son of God, died for our sins stuff is where I draw the line. Seriously, why did people have to take a perfectly nice man with a pretty fucking profound message and make him such a point of contention? So I talked with Jackson about loving the sinner not the sin blah blah blah.... and a few days later we were making a list of friends he could invite to the waterpark in our old town as a sort of going away thing. He mentioned a couple of children who he has always complained about. One in particular was a bit of a bully so I told Jackson not to invite him because then it wouldn't be fun for anyone. Jackson came right back at me with Jesus' message of love for everyone. And that, my 5 loyal readers, is how I was put in my place by my 7 year old son. We ended up not inviting the bully and probably made Jesus cry.

Hangin' in the OKC

We arrived in Oklahoma City last night and spent the day seeing some sights, including the local WalMart. Not something I need to do again.

But we did go to a place called Myriad Gardens and Crystal Bridge. Photos below.


The theme was Hawaii


The elusive Jackson Monkey


Such beautiful smiles


Who knew such beauty existed in Oklahoma City


The gang

The Great Escape

We finished packing up the house on Saturday and hit the road late afternoon. We made it to Kingman, AZ the first night. Tonight we're in Albuquerque, NM. Tomorrow we hope to make it to Oklahoma City. After that we'll slow it down a bit and see some sights. It's been a speedy trip through the west since we've already seen so much out this way on past trips. Once we get a minute we'll try to take some photos and post.

Everything you ever wanted to know about Hillsborough, NC

Some woman on a North Carolina message board I frequent posted an awesome photo tour of the town we're moving to. She included lots of descriptions and links to more info. It's more than I've even seen of the town and now I'm more excited than ever to move there. And at the end there are even some pictures of our neighborhood, Churton Grove.

Hillsborough, NC Photo Tour

Framed!

Our soon-to-be new home in North Carolina.

How we like to kick off summer at our house

Jackson likes to rot his brain playing computer games

Sam prefers to greet the new season with a nap (in his defense he's been sick)


And Clara kicks back on the couch with no pants and an oven mitt



And it's not even noon yet.

Happy 1st Birthday My Sweet Girl!

But I didn't... because she's only in 1st grade.

This morning I pulled up in front of Jackson's school to drop him off. When I opened the door there was a little girl from his class standing outside who saw that Jackson still uses a booster seat and she said, "Oh my god, you still ride in a booster?! I don't have to use one of those anymore. I can sit in an adult seat. I can't believe you still ride in a booster!"

By law Jackson is not required to ride in a booster, but sometimes we have to look past what the law requires to see what is actually safest. Age and weight just don't seem like the best standards by which to measure a child's readiness to move out of a booster. There could be a really short, fat 6 year old who meets both the age and weight requirements yet still needs a booster so the seatbelt doesn't cut across his neck. Four feet nine inches seems to be the consensus on when a child can safely be in a shoulder/lap belt only. There are diagrams on the web showing exactly where the the seatbelt should be positioned, how the knees should bend over the seat, etc. And, yes, I have consulted these diagrams because I am just that anal about my children's safety.

So when the little girl, who was clearly under 4'9", mocked my son for being in a booster this morning it was all I could do to not roll down my window and say to her, "That's because your mommy doesn't love you as much."

We may be in trouble

Today a package arrived from a kids' gear store. Inside were a pair of water shoes like these I had ordered for Clara so her tender little feet would be protected when we go to the water park and pool this summer. When I opened the package and pulled out the shoes, Clara got silent. Mesmerized by the glorious beauty of the rubber and mesh she sat down on the floor facing me and stuck her tiny pink feet out in front of her. I handed her the water shoes, she gave them the once-over and then grunted at me while she shoved them back into my hands. Her request to me was clear and simple: put these magical slippers on her feet. I acquiesced and she stood up to take them for a test run. Strutting around the house, she kept her gaze always on the shoes. When one would fall off she would return to me and shove the aberrant shoe into my hand so that I could quickly restore it to its rightful place on her foot.

When David arrived home from work she was barefoot again and I handed her one of the water shoes, telling her to go show daddy. She dutifully took it over to him and then shoved it into his hand while grunting her request that he please put it on her foot. We eventually had to hide them so she would leave us alone.

This is all so incredibly cute until you realize that she is only 11 months old! I mean, what kind of shoe budget are we going to have to set for her when she can actually talk?

The wonders of children

David's life line cell phone went missing tonight. He didn't go anywhere today other than work, which is literally 3 minutes from home. So we knew it had to be here, there or somewhere in between. Shortly after dinner he began looking for it as he was going to go out for awhile. He used the land line to call his cell so that he could follow the ring to its location. But first he had to find the land line. I had just used the home phone and told him exactly where to find a handset. He grumbled that there were no handsets to be seen. I rolled my eyes at his complete ineptitude. And Jackson saved the evening and produced a handset.

"Where'd you find it?"

"Uh, I saw it under Sam's bed."

Odd place but it didn't surprise me since we have a grand total of 4 handsets and a petite, blue-eyed thief so they do sometimes find their way into obscure places. But after David had gone back into work to look for his phone and still couldn't find it then we started to wonder what was going on. So I told him to take my cell phone out to the parking lot of his work and try calling it from there. That was the only place we hadn't checked so surely it had to be there. I reached into my purse to get my cell phone but it wasn't there. I had made a call from my car earlier that day so I checked for it in the van. Cue the Twilight Zone music; my phone, too, was missing. David, clutching the only remaining phone, dialed my cell number and a glorious melody floated down from above. I followed the sound up the stairs and into Jackson's bedroom where it was dark and he was sleeping. David came in behind me, turned on the light and pulled my phone along with his phone and two of the home phones out from underneath Jackson's dresser. Clara misplaces things; she does not purposely hide things as had clearly been done with these phones. Sam can be ruled out pretty easily. So we knew who the culprit was. And it was very disturbing. Jackson just doesn't do things like that. And the kid can't lie very well, either... usually. He's just always been one of those kids who you can trust not to get into trouble. He's not typically the mischievous type. But, here's the thing, he lulls you into a false sense of security then... WHAMMO!... he'll go and hide all the phones. Or eat a tube of toothpaste. Or pee in the bathroom trash. Those other two things took me by surprise, too. At least David and I have until morning to exact some form of revenge, like sewing closed the leg-holes of all his pants.

Little Miss Clara's first steps

Well she's gone and done it. Clara decided it was time she started walking upright. It started on Sunday with a push toy and by Thursday we found the push toy out at the curb with a sign taped to it that read "FREE." Gotta teach that girl how to use craigslist.

Here's some video of her progress. Please ignore the yelling, neglected four year old in the back ground and my commands that the 7 year old get out of the way. They both had their time in the spotlight.

Oh, and excuse my gleeful shrieking. It's been awhile since we've had a child learn to walk at our house.

The real monkeys of the OC

It's official. Our house is up for grabs. Of course, you can only grab it if you give us a small fortune in return. I'm talking about an amount of money that to part with it will sear your very soul. Fortunately for us, most of the inhabitants of Orange County lost their soul long ago so the transaction should be painless.

David and I have been doing everything ourselves, from prepping the house for sale to writing the ad, taking the pictures and listing it. It's been a mad couple of weeks and we kind of lost track of our two three children for awhile... Clara has taken to eating the carpet pad... but I'm pretty sure she would have done that even if I had been offering her real food. Suffice to say that it's been a bit crazy around here, but oddly fulfilling, and now we just hope someone buys this place.

And since I've been horribly neglecting this blog I thought I'd give you all a little something that should carry you through for weeks. But I must warn you first that this is highly inappropriate material yet funny as hell. Seriously, if you're someone who isn't into animal porn (and, really, who isn't) then do not click the link below. I'm thinking if you're, say... my mother-in-law then you should run away now. And, grandma... you're hip and you may think you can handle it but I'm going to say that there are probably more meaningful ways to spend your time. Mom. Dad. Oh hell, I get my sense of humor from the two of you so I'm going to let you decide.

Don't be a hater. Be a lover... a monkey lover.

I have taught him well

I heard a story about Jackson today - a story I was apparently the last one to hear - and was told I should blog about it. Because a story is just not a story until I put my spin on it. But first let me start with how this story was brought to me because that's almost as entertaining as the story itself.

Picking up Jackson from school yesterday afternoon a mom of one of Jackson's classmates approached. Earlier that week her son had informed me that the baby his mom is expecting is a girl. Since she already has two boys I thought I'd congratulate her on finally getting it right this time.

"I heard it's a girl."

"Yeah, now I know what 'v' stands for."

"What?"

"Vagina" This was followed by, what seemed at the moment, inappropriate laughter. But this mom marches to the beat of her own violin, if you know what I mean (Hi Erika!), so I just tried to go with it.

"Or.... 'v' for .... victory," I offered.

"Oh, yeah, that's good, too... but 'v' for vagina. Get it" More laughter.

Now I get that the word vagina begins with 'v'. And the word loony begins with 'l' but I didn't feel the need to share that at the moment.

"No, I'm not sure...."

"Oh, you haven't heard?!"

Now the conversations seems to be gaining some direction which might end in an explanation. I'm feeling some relief at this because her son and Jackson play together at school and I didn't want to have to put an end to that.

The story is that Jackson's teacher was asking his first grade class which words begin with the letter 'v'. You see where this is going, right? Do I really need to explain how my child unabashedly offered up the word vagina? And how he wrote it in his class book as part of the assignment so that we may embarrass him with it when he's a teenager? His teacher handled it very gracefully asking that the children not use private parts. I'm really hoping I don't have to explain that in this family, where Jackson has been a part of both of his siblings births in some manner and at the tender age of 2 jumped off his father's lap in the exam room so he could "see the baby" while the midwife was examining me with my legs up in stirrups, the vagina is not necessarily a private part.

It was pointed out that this little incident was far better to happen on a day with the letter 'v' than with the letter 'c'. And, interestingly, penis was never mentioned by any of the children on 'p' day. I guess vaginas simply hold more prominence. And this secretly makes me happy.

Because we still make each other laugh

I've been thinking about our huge yard that we're going to have in North Carolina and how we're going to take care of it. I'm one of those weirdos who has a problem pouring poison anywhere in or around a home my children and I reside in. I know. It can't be explained. I'm just kooky that way. So I heard that molasses not only helps grass grow but keeps the ants away. I hadn't told David about this marvelous use for molasses when we started a conversation about gardening in North Carolina. They have fire ants there and, as you may know, fire ants are vile creatures that hate the human race and search us out to destroy us. Anyway, I was in the middle of painting an idyllic picture for David of how I will tend our little garden while Jackson helps and Clara and Sam enjoy our magnificent yard, when David quickly utters,"Fire ants!"
To which I reply with equal quickness, "Molasses!"
"Chicken wire!" he shouts back because he has no idea what I'm talking about and so why not chicken wire.
And the obvious answer to this was, "Ben Gay!"

This is where the conversation ends because David and I are both laughing uncontrollably.

And this, my loyal readers, is the secret to our long lasting marriage.

Dookie discord at Disney

What I should have done is open the restroom door and confronted the impatient woman with a stack of baby wipes telling her she could either get in there and help me clean up Clara's explosive poop or wait her damn turn while refraining from banging on the bathroom door because THAT was only pissing me off.

It was one large, crowded restaurant with a one-hole bathroom and a baby covered in poop. What the hell was I supposed to do? With the first knock I apologetically replied that it was going to be awhile and she might want to find another bathroom. But once the door rattling began and the suggestions that we finish up our messy business outside of the bathroom then it just got ridiculous. We were in a restaurant at Downtown Disney for fuck's sake. There's a bathroom every 50 feet and a nice, if not freakishly large, mouse to show you the way. Difficult for me to take a poop soaked baby in search of a larger bathroom but not for an incredibly rude woman with bladder control issues.

Once I finished smearing the toilet seat with baby poop and writing stinky, brown words of hate on the walls we exited the bathroom just as another woman was leaving the men's restroom. She shot me a caustic glance and said, "Some of us had to use the men's room." I smiled sweetly and replied, "Good for you." That's the kind of thinking-outside-the-box problem solving I like to see.

The escape

We're moving to North Carolina. Orange County has worn us thin and we're looking for a way out. North Carolina seems far enough... okay, it's a bit too far... like far enough to make my stomach feel all twisty and sick when I think about moving there. But I'm excited, nonetheless.

We've found a lovely little town there nestled in trees which is removed enough from the hustle and bustle of a big city yet close enough to a big city to ensure we won't go into complete culture shock. And the housing prices are just dreamy compared to what we're used to. We'll finally be able to afford a house big enough so that everyone in our family will have their own space and we'll never have to interact with each other again. Yes, the size of our new home will be shameful. But remember that Sam needs his own room and bathroom on the first floor for wheelchair access and because he yells at 3 am and nobody wants to sleep with him. Clara and Jackson will eventually want separate bedrooms and David needs a home office since he will be able to keep his current job and work from home. We'll also need that walk in pantry to store our emergency stockpile of food in case of a hurricane. The bedroom sized walk-in closets will be necessary for all the seasonal clothes we'll need in a place that has actual weather changes. The sitting room will be necessary for mommy and daddy to maintain their sanity, in theory. We'll have a bonus room to ensure that our guests from so far away will have a place to stay. And the 3 car garage... well, that's just for kicks. And this is one of the smaller houses we had to choose from.

The move won't happen until this summer; we're having a home built which enables us to customize some things for Sam. This also gives us time to prepare this home for sale and begin the enormous task of transferring all of Sam's services to another state across the country. Looking forward to it.

Why haven't I been posting much lately?

She actually got her knee up there but I wasn't quick enough to catch it on film before she lost her balance and fell back.

Children cure puking

The day was going along fine. We had just returned from a walk and all the kids were cheery despite that two of them were suffering from a bad cold. Clara, one of the cold sufferers, had developed a fever the day before and had had a horrible night's sleep but was holding it together quite nicely. Her fever had broken earlier in the afternoon and I was hoping for a better sleep for both of us tonight. The hour was approaching dinner time and having nothing planned I asked David to go out and pick us up some Chinese food while I bathed Clara and put her to sleep. Emerging clean from her bath, I dressed her in warm pj's and together we settled into the glider. Suddenly a great thirst came over me and I willed Clara to sleep so I could get back downstairs and get some water. And then a headache came. Right on the heels of the headache came some slight nausea. I attributed these symptoms to being overly tired from the previous night's lack of sleep and also to not eating enough before our walk. I vowed to stuff my face full of Chinese food and get to bed early... if only Clara would go to sleep. But it soon became obvious that I wasn't going to make it much longer so I took Clara downstairs, handed her off to David and went and puked in the bathroom. And the last thing I ate was unfortunately not waffles with strawberries. It was actually some eggnog followed by Odwalla's Superfood - Micronutrient Fruit Juice Drink. Great green garden of puke. Don't ask why.

Feeling much better I returned to the family room and guzzled a glass of water. This, in hindsight, was a big mistake because about 5 minutes later I was back in the bathroom puking up the water. During all the up-chucking I was thinking that I might have one of the stomach bugs going around that lasts like 2-3 days. And, while the thought of vomiting for 3 days straight is unappealing, I have been wanting to lose some of this post-pregnancy weight. This may be a hell of a way to do it but... hey, silver lining, you know? But I was also thinking that if this agony is going to go on for 3 days just take me to the hospital now, knock me out and hook me up to an IV.

At this point in the evening all 3 kids are still awake and I'm in no condition to help any of them get to bed. After another 5 minutes pass, and another vomiting event, David bravely declares that he will rock Clara to sleep. Up the stairs the two of them go and over the baby monitor I hear her agonizing screams. Realizing I probably have at least 2 minutes until I puke again I start up the stairs thinking I can at least sing to her while David rocks her. But as soon as I start up Jackson yells from the kitchen, "Mom! I've got a bloody nose and it's really bad!" Oh, for fuck's sake. Really? Let's see how many gross body fluids we've covered today: Clara's diaper leaked poop on the carpet this morning; Clara wiped green snot on me in the afternoon; I've got the puke thing covered. Have we not hit our daily maximum? Bloody nose, really?! So I choked back the urge to puke and dealt with the blood.

Now Clara is still screaming upstairs and it's ripping my heart apart to not comfort her. But when I finally do take her from David she is so worked up that she can't stop crying to go to sleep. So I hit the baby reset button... which for Clara means that I just have to take her to watch her silly brothers. So we hang out with the boys while they prepare for a bath, me leaning against the wall holding Clara with my mouth tightly closed. Then I smell poop. Because you just can't finish the day without coming full circle back to the poop. The diaper stash upstairs is completely depleted but I know that as faint as I'm feeling I can't make the trek downstairs with Clara in arms. I set her down in Sam's room where David is wrestling with Sam to put his pajamas on. I make it halfway down the stairs before I hear David say, "Oooh, ouch," and then Clara's scream. Clara has just recently learned to crawl but has not yet mastered the skill. She bonks her head into things all the time and I assumed that's what had happened. Back up the stairs I went, retrieved Clara and staggered back down.

By the time I've finished changing her diaper she's really tired and sad and I'm really feeling weak from all the puking. But I can't just let my baby cry so I carried her back upstairs while singing "You are my sunshine." Wise to my attempts to get her back to sleep she refused to lay in my arms so I sat her on my lap and rocked until she leaned her head back against me and it slowly dropped to the side. Finally! Now I could go puke. But I didn't feel the need anymore. As a matter of fact I was feeling a bit hungry. So I fixed myself a flour tortilla, the only simple carbohydrate I could find in the kitchen, and sat down to type this up.

Seriously. When people say that moms aren't allowed time to be sick they mean it. In this case I was glad, even though now I'm actually going to have to exercise to lose this weight.