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?