Shazaam!

After months of misplaced Social Security cards, expired attendance forms, and overall not having it together, today the boy above received his learner's permit!

Congratulations Mr. Man!

A veterinarian in the making

This morning on the way to preschool, I spied some ducks at the end of our street. I pointed them out to Aurelia and asked her, " What do you say to the ducks?"

Her answer:

STUPID DUCKS! You LIVE in the WATER! You NOT supposed to be in da YAWD!

Knocked the warm fuzzies right out of the moment.

We've gone green, baby!

For several months we have been debating about a switch in vehicles. We have waffled between styles and brands and colors and whether or not to even think about it. I was sure we were done. Then, after I drove Ted's Outback to Wayne County on Friday, I mentioned in passing that I could drive a car. (I have only had a van for years and find it difficult to get in and out of many low cars). The next day we were at the dealership test driving the hybrid. The only reason it was still on the lot was that most of the salesmen thought it was sold. (The earlier buyer's financing had fallen through, but that hadn't made it down the grapevine yet). So now we are the proud owners of a Toyota Prius Hybrid. It is a very strange car to drive (no key required, just a fob and a power button.) It has a back up camera (REALLY could have used that in the van), a DVD navigation system (oh yes, I am very challenged in that area), and a whole host of other perks that I just think are groovy.

So lookout peeps. I may not have to fill up my tank (this thing gets like 48 mpg) until the kids are out of school! WOO HOO --- it took $75 + to fill the van and that only lasted less than a week even though I don't travel frequently.

Dentist day gone south

As some of you already know, my kids love the dentist. When the first visit is over there is a countdown until they get to go again. This visit was a little different.

There are two dentists in this pediatric practice and the taller of them was seeing Aurelia. He noticed her misaligned front teeth and asked if she sucked her thumb. Oh, if it were only that easy! No, my girl crooks her right index finger, sticks it in her mouth, and commences to chewin' the ever lovin' hide off of it. She has a callous at the base WITH TEETHMARKS! She is serious when it comes to the finger. We have surfed the web, used every suggestion available to get her to stop. This sweet, innocent doctor suggested that we wrap an ace bandage around her elbow, so that when she bends her arm it will be a gentle reminder she shouldn't bite her finger. Well that my friends is a hoot! Because this little princess has ripped off clothing, scaled gates, and shit in the floor to avoid conforming to your average expectations and she ain't about to stop now. Oh, we'll try it, I'm just sayin' we ain't about to bet the house, if you know what I mean.

Moving right along, my sweet Daniel has always loved the dentist, too. But we live about a half an hour away from their office and he gets a little queasy on the ride there. He'd said his stomach was hurting in the car. But once we got there he rushed in and played air hockey until he was called back. The dental chairs are all lined up and have flat screen televisions (tuned to Cartoon Network, of course) on the ceiling. So he just stretched out and waited his turn. The doctor came and looked him over while the assistant was cleaning Aurelia's teeth. Braces, but we already knew that. The kids got my teeth, not Ted's. But when the assistant came to clean she broke out the bad tasting, gritty junk they rub on the teeth. Daniels eyes watered and his face contorted. She sat him up for a minute and when he recovered she started again. I'm not sure why they did away with the little spit sinks in a dentist's office, but now they have these little suction tubes they lovingly shove in your mouth and tell you to kiss (which frankly grosses me out). Daniel felt this was a personal affront and as he closed his lips around the hose he puked! It just shot right into that suction and the nurse, looking puzzled, said, "Did you just throw up?" Um, duh! And because some of it got on his shirt, he rode home barechested and unhappy. Fortunately, he is resourceful and used the half hour ride home to tell me all about what he should do since he you know. All he needed was a good meal. Some chicken soup.... instead he ate a hot dog. GAG.

T-minus six months and counting!

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?"

My god it looks like Daniel

Lately, Dan the man has been saying how much he dislikes school. He would like us to believe he would never go again if we didn't force him. We all know he is smitten with his teacher and this is a total farce in an effort to be a machismo second grader.

But he exclaimed in the car yesterday, "If I was the ruler of everything, I would cancel all the schools."
To which we responded with wide-eyed disbelief, "You don't want children to learn how to READ?! Or count?! Tyrant!"
Dan-the-man countered with, "Weeeelllll, I would cancel all school after the second grade. (disgusted hmmph) Because I already know E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G!"

Shhh... we're huntin ducks

Baby Girl and I went to the park today. We sat on the bridge and tossed our bread chunks to the ducks and squirrels. She whispered things to me like, "Dat duck wikes my bwead." She hugged me and said I was SOOO sweet and beeeyooouuutifull. We held hands and walked the long way back to the car. I love spring.

Proud mama

I may have mentioned a time or twenty that our oldest son is now employed. Over the weekend, I dragged our family and my visiting friend to see the boy in action. I cannot convey how strange it is to see the boy you nursed, changed, sang to, read to, dressed, bathed, snuggled with, and carried on your hip serving up fast food to strangers. I am so proud of him. He made good eye contact, was courteous, at ease, and closed each purchase with a "Y'all have a good day!". Brought a tear to my robotic eye. This is the transition that I could never really prepare for. This person we brought into the world and tried to teach, is now taking all we gave and putting it into practice. We aren't there to whisper from the sidelines if he forgets. He is a good boy. I am so proud of him. We may disagree on so much, but in the end, I must now take him at his face value as a person, not just my son. He will have opinions that will differ from mine, his friends will be foreign to me, his work ethic will be his to control. From all indications, I will be proud to call him friend, when I can no longer claim him as my baby.

little bits

My daughter and I had a lunch date this week. She ordered her own food (PANCAKES) and specified CHOCUT MIK (Aurelia for chocolate milk). The crazy bendy straw gave her fits of giggles as she would open her eyes wide and watch the milk rise and fall in the loops. I told her she is my friend and I wanted to go to lunch with her so we could talk. She feels neglected sometimes when I do alot of phone work (CASA, other moms, school volunteer stuff, family and friends who live far from me), so I wanted to give her a little me time. She didn't bust out any revelations about life or start speaking any clearer or anything. But she proclaimed loudly across the parking lot that she is my friend, my grrrrl, and she is stwong!

Meanwhile, my two boys were both tucked away in various corners of our house. I went to look for both of them at different times and found each of them curled up on their beds, reading a book with a stack of books close by. I don't know about you, but my heart swells to know that as I am reading with my own book/stack of books, my sweet boys are enjoying the world outside ours with mere words. Books rock!

Help me, oh sweet Pete!

My husband is practicing his humor. He has spent the entire evening trying so hard to be good at the schtick that belongs to me (annoying, getting under skin, etc. ) and yet he is no good at it. He starts to feel bad. He starts to feel guilty about his behavior. And I am tempted to tell him it's ok, you're just no good at that, that's my gig. Let him off the hook a little. Then he shows me what he thinks is funny. And be warned this is NOT for the young audience. My husband, the man I chose to marry, had children with, and still have not divorced finds THIS amusing. Somebody explain this to me, (crickets, awkward silence....) yeah, me neither.