All Shook Up

Our oldest was in the high school musical last week. He has been in theater since his foot hit the door of the high school and he was SO excited to be cast as one of the leads. The newspaper has a gallery of pics from the performance....and by the way he was stellar. I didn't know my baby could sing!

He is the one in the letterman's sweater.

Dan the Man strikes again!

Quotes from this past week:

Daniel to a younger schoolmate who was upset over changing her card that day: "You can't change the past...., unless you have a time machine."

Daniel to the world at large as he stood inside the large metal sculpture in our local park: "I am the god of the earth portal!!!"

Daniel (at the top of his sweet lungs) as we passed by a shirtless, older man in the park: MOM, DID YOU SEE THAT MAN'S BOOBS?!

Daniel, to the man running the school carnival's cake walk: Hey! STOP THAT! That's MY sister! (Let it be known the man was only asking Aurelia to draw a number and was BRIEFLY moving the bowl around out of her grasp.. )

Hippo Household

This past week our area experienced some residual tremors of the Illinois earthquake. Not everyone felt it, as it was very mild, but I did. I must have been in a light sleep, because at first I thought I had had a nightmare and was shaking. When I figured out that wasn't the case, I noticed my husband wasn't in bed. In a semi-awake state, I assumed he had fallen out of bed, gotten wedged beneath it and was having a seizure! That too quickly passed from my mind. A few more seconds ticked by and it was over. My husband came up the stairs a few minutes later and he said he had felt it too. Did anyone else feel it?

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Over the weekend I was lying on the couch, willing myself back to sleep, when I heard Daniel doing something strange. He would jump on our mini-trampoline for a few seconds, leap off, run stand in front of the TV to look at the clock, then run back in and jump a little more. After more than a few minutes of hearing him do this, I finally asked him what he was doing.

Daniel: I just realized that time really does fly when you're having fun!

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When I sing songs, I tend to replace the real lyrics with my kids names or nonsense. Lately, I have been singing the Simon and Garfunkel song "Cecilia". Since Aurelia fits, that's the name I use... it goes a little something like this...

Me: Oh Aurelia, you're breaking my heart, you're shaking my confidence daily
Aurelia: (looking at me with her hand extended) Here's another heart for you, mommy.
Me: Oh Aurelia, I'm down on my knees, I'm beggin' you please to come home
Aurelia: (exasperated) I alweady home.

My multiple personalities

As sleep was sneaking up and trying to catch me last night, I was lying in bed unable to stop thinking. Nothing specific, just no off switch for the brain. But near the time I slipped into unconsciousness, this blog occurred to me. And I am indulging it.

Those readers who know me in person may already know the many faces of the hippo. Depending on when the intial meeting happens, I can be viewed as a quiet, subdued, meek, almost fearful appearing individual. If the same person were to meet me in a different setting, one might believe they were meeting my doppelganger. Many times I have found that the quiet side is present when the more approachable, confident side would have been a better match. But as all humans tend to be, I am conflicted and complicated. I am self-deprecating to the point of nausea some days and overly confident on others. From inside my head, I feel like a puppeteer who just can't get all the strings to move like they are supposed to. For instance, and really I am not trying to be smug, I am not a stupid person. In fact, I know lots and lots of things. I might occasionally call my self intelligent, but when something I know about comes up in conversation I am less likely to jump in with the knowlege/opinion than I am when I know very little about the subject. If confidence is being served up on my exterior, you can almost bet the level of inadequacy and nerves on the interior have jumped tenfold. Despite the many layers I know are in here, my perception of my end leans toward shallow. But before you get the idea that I am fishing for opposite opinions or throwing a pity part for myself, understand that I know plenty of people have these thoughts. I know the people that I regard as intelligent, witty, confident, warm and engaging most assuredly have some of, if not all of, the same fears and insecurities. So I wonder why do people feel this way? Would I have been better off media-free, with a different social setting, different examples as a child? I dunno. I grew up with lots of female role models, ranging from meek to mouthy, with nine aunts and a gaggle of other lady relatives. When I was with large settings with my family and other people, I always tried to blend into the wall. Books were my place to be, no discussion required and I got to go to all the different places and see how the people interacted without having to do it myself. Maybe that's what it all comes down to. I have a little of all that experience and info tucked away into crevices in the old noodle and pull them out as needed. The real point is, I may come off as many different versions of me, but the one inside is the one I like the best. I just wish I could bring her out to play more often.

Note to self....

When the hubby is snoring like a grizzly bear and sleeping just as soundly, when all the pillow shaking and pushing and griping and loud sighs and leg pinching and begging him to just roll over and STOP fail to work, when defeat is acknowledged and you tromp downstairs to sleep--- DO NOT sleep on the couch. No matter how inviting the leather sofa is, turn away and go to the spare room where there is an actual mattress to sleep on. If you choose the sofa, you will wake up stiff and achy and more than a little grumpy. And you could have been just grumpy if you had stayed in bed.

Hippo offspring

A-dog has been overheard saying:

"Mommy, you finish you wunch? You mouf smell bad. Your bweaf stink. Look dat way."

"Don't do it! Don't do it!" (In response to my remark that I was going to beat her with a big stick... which I wasn't, btw.)

"You gawden is weally, weally pourfect and beeyouteaful." (Garden to date consists of some overturned earth and flowering weeds.)


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Dan-Man was asked by my mother if he would drive her around town when he was old enough to get his license. His response, "You'll be dead by then."

His theory on how babies gestate was explained as such: "Mom, after you had Cory/Adam you were still pregnant. 'Cause then I was born, and you were still pregnant. 'Cause then Aurelia was born. Then you were done, 'cause your parts were broken."

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Cory/Adam has been competing in the state thespian competition this week in Charleston. While he didn't win or place, he did succeed in eating an Atomic Wing at the Quaker Steak n Lube afterward. If the look on his face is any indicator, he feels like this is the bigger accomplishment and equal to an Academy Award.

Junior High Flashback

While in Charleston, I stopped by the school where an old teacher of mine works. I had emailed her awhile back to let her know that some of the things she may not remember really impacted me in a positive way. She was the music teacher at my junior high school and there was a group called the All Stars. Kids tried out to be a part of it (singing and instruments) and it was an honor to be in it. One day, while in line to buy a snow cone in the cafeteria, she walked up behind me and asked if I would play the bass guitar for them. I was boggled. I hadn't even tried out. When I asked her about that today, she said I must have displayed something in her music or guitar class that made her pick me. I tried to tell her how it made me feel, but I couldn't really articulate it. As a kid, I was tall and thin and awkward and unsure. There was no clique I was part of, just a ragtag group of misfits that clung to each other for comfort. For her to pick me, to even see me, when I tried so hard to blend in with walls and corners, really stuck with me. There was no hidden musical talent that I had, but she never said I sucked, she never belittled me. She was a great teacher and I was so grateful to her. We spent the time I was there watching over the students she has now during her lunch duty. I am not sure she really remembers me, but she looks the same and was happy to see me nonetheless. She laughed so hard when I told her I still had the charts she made for me to remember where to put my fingers. Man, I am grateful for good, kind, wonderful teachers like her.

Intimate experiences

My mother gave me a gift certificate to a nail salon for Christmas. It's always a pleasure to have a pedicure done because I happen to have the world's funkiest feet. They are dry and cracked and overall gross. (BTW my husband has eerily soft and supple feet, like a real woman's feet oughta feel.) Anyway, the salon itself is in Charleston and I hadn't yet had time while there to cash in. But Cory/Adam had to be there for a state thespian competition today and I was able to get an appointment. At 9 AM. That meant we left the house by seven so I could leave the little ones at Mom's and get back to town.

Anytime I have had a mani/pedi I have always felt uncomfortable about the exchanges that are appropriate or expected. I don't know if should talk to the manicurist or if I should just allow them to go about their business. Usually, I just hang back and follow their lead. But it occurred to me today that these experiences require intimate moments be ignored. When a virtual stranger is washing, clipping, massaging my feet, calves and hands and yet there is no dialogue it is pretty freaky. I mean, even my husband won't touch my funky feet. When they massaged my hands and interlace their fingers with mine I am reminded that I have held hands with precious few people in my life. It's just really strange.

Blogging feels the same way sometimes. I like getting comments, like knowing people across the globe might be interested in something I have to write about. At the same time, it's so personal a thing to share with virtual strangers. Totally surreal.

And now...

for something completely different!

Take a moment

This may be the last day the free world is safe on the roads. Tomorrow Cory/Adam will make his first attempt to pass his learner's exam. If he succeeds, we will find it necessary to actually allow him to drive and learn. Consider yourself warned.

A-Dog and Big Momma go to the doctor

After a few days of waking to a less than comfortable feeling in my throat, I decided to take a trip to the dreaded walk-in clinic at our doctor's office. And since Aurelia had been having some bedtime woes that are usually indicative of an ear infection, we set out to see her pediatrician in the afternoon. The following are some of her announcements of the day.

To an elderly woman sitting behind us: My mommy sick. She not feeling well. She got a fwog in her fwoat. Dey gonna take it out.

To the doctor with gorgeous blue eyes looking in my ears: How many elephants are in dere?

To the receptionist on our way out: She all better. Dey got da fwog out her froat.

To the sweet older man who returned our valet parked car to us in the pouring rain: (defiant stance and clearly indignant about the valet process) Why you take my twuck?! DAT MY TWUCK!!!

This very same child pulled off a very convincing portrayal of a shy, demure, tiny lunged sweet elf while the nurse practitioner was looking her over. I almost bought it until the second the others left the room. She turned to me, her eyebrows shot up to her hairline and with that smirk she and her brother are so good at she asked, "She see dat fwog?"