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.