My seven year old has donned a diaper in a moment of sister-solidarity, my two year old knows how to count to ten, how to say the alphabet and how to make jokey-jokes in Spanish:

me: [holding up a red shoe] What color is this?
her: Azul!
me: Are you sure?
her: [giggling] Azul! Ha-ha! Rojo...
me: Red?
her: [nodding] Rojo!
me: [holding up the other shoe] then which color is this?
her: [big laugh] Azul!!

I have a cup of coffee next to me. A cat on my lap and nothing to do today that doesn't involve hanging with my babies. Life, she ees gud!

BUSTED!

Ha! I just almost got SOOOOO busted a minute ago. See here's the thing, back when NYG and I were "seeing" each other, we had kind of agreed we weren't going to tell the respective kiddos (for a whole variety of reasons I won't EVEN go into here) so we didn't. Right. We stop "seeing" each other and it becomes a "non-issue". Then through a whole convoluted Brechtian turn of events, it so happens that entirely outside of our involvement and subsequent lack thereof, our kids decide that they like each other a great deal and as one of them has a mom who needs to be out on the town tonight with her new Sweetie and the other has a parent who is all about the sleepovers ... well, let's just say I've ended up with little Stevie Nicks here with me and the Boo tonight. SO. They're all tucked in, ready for books and bed and lo and behold, they discover, under the couch a business card with Stevie's daddy's info on it! (god only knows how it could have gotten there. eh hem...) Weird right? Even weirder given that we (me and Stevie's Daddy) aren't really supposed to know each other -- save the one or two times he's accompanied Miss Nicks to various group events. I'm sure everyone will be delighted to know that when presented with this evidence of his independent existence in my living room (on my couch) I quickly offered that it must have "dropped out" of his pocket the time he was here with Stevie for Spark's birthday! Yeah. Because cards do that, right?? Fall out of people's pockets when they stop by... eh, hem. Anyway.

---

Thanks BTW for those of you who called to offer your support vis a vis my total inability to deal with my life a few days ago. I was just kind of overwhelmed by the sheer amounts of STUFF I was suddenly having to do (work = learn someone else's job/fix about a billion really bad things that were/are about to explode in our faces and that inexplicably nothing has been done about; school = going into week 3 of 6 with two more papers due, plus four chapters of reading in a book that I got the wrong edition of - we're talking entire legal cases missing because they hadn't actually occured yet; home = sty. Pure and simple. Too much crap. Too little space.) Plus which, I got lectured to about how my optimistic little views would change once I'd "matured" a little and experienced a bit more life from a woman who turned out to be a year younger than me! She thought I was 23. Nice. Kind of threw what was left of my identity into a tailspin.

All of that notwithstanding though, I just spent the entire day with my kid out on Angel Island so I'm back, I'm good and I think I may even be able to deal. (possibly. I wouldn't go placing any bets in Vegas just yet...)

What fresh hell is this?

Jeesus, God, what have I done...???????!

work + school + never seeing my kids is kicking my a**!

I miss liking my life. I miss BBQ and IHOEL and the rest of the Bees. I want to become a person of leisure (not unlike newly freed, soon-to-be-Slacker Extraordinaire, Mistah Lovah-Lovah) I want to be able to take a day off from work without having to anticipate fifteen tons of sh** being systematically created by the Sup-turned-Sub from Hell Miss J-lo from the Block that I will have to unravel, "follow up on" and otherwise figure out how to fix the second I get back. Sigh. At least there's a light at the end of THAT particular tunnel...

Ah well. Long week-end ahead. Lots of kid time. I'm going to just think about that and act like Tuesday isn't ever going to come.

Can an 8-year-old be a bitch...??!

Consider the following conversation which took place today in my child's second grade class:

Boy Student: [finishing up his report on Gekkos] Any questions or comments?
Supposed "best friend" of Boo: [Raises hand] ...
Teacher: Yes, SBFOB? Go ahead...
SBFOB: Um, [giggles] well, this isn't really about BS's report or about gekkos but... I just saw a lice bug in Boo's hair.*
[Class erupts in squeals, laughter, chagrin etc.]
Teacher: Alright, SBFOB. That cetainly doesn't have anything to do with Gekkos. Now does anyone have any comments about gekkos? [Boo sits still feeling small, embarrassed and confused. I know this because she told me that's how she felt as we were driving home.]

*ed. note - this from a child who actually did have a pretty serious case of lice herself and surely knows how it feels to be teased PLUS who staunchly declares herself Boo's "closest friend ever!" Sad, but I still have to kill her...

In other news, finally feeling a little more on top of the life, school and work. I'm not going to say it out loud or anything because it might all crumble into nothingness but right this second, I'm doing well.

Conversations with a two-year-old

Two-Year-Old: [holding out a Sesame Street "Do the Alphabet" video] ABC?
Me: No. We're going to school now. No. ABCs...
Two-Year-Old: EFG?
Me: Ha! No. Good try, though. By the way, you missed a letter.
Two-Year-Old: D!
Me: [in shock] Wow.


Two-Year-Old: 1-2-3
Me: 4
Two-Year-Old: 5
Me: 6
Two-Year-Old: 7-8-9-10! Yay! Gud Dob! [claps]
Me: yay! [claps. then, realizing her baby girl knows how to count to ten] Whoa! Good Job!

Yup. Smartest TYO in the world. Get in early with your applications to associate yourself with the brillance that is my little girl! Line forms to the left people, no pushing...

Jesus gawd. I don't know if I can get MORE over a place than I am right now. And the sick thing is, things are finally, actually working themselves out! blah. Whatever. I'm tired. And I'm sniffley and I really want to get a lingering hug from a reasonably cute person. Hmmmmm. I think I'm going to get moving on that last bit right now. I'll check in later if there's anything at all worth reporting...

I need to be making alot more money.

I also need a Network Engineer. let me know if anyone knows anyone who is available NOW...!

Brillant!

The week-end was brillant BTW! Lots of hanging about with the girls and with other exceptionally cool 6-year olds. I did some laundry, figured out how to hook up a supplemental VCR to the existing "tower of power" because, seriously folks, you can NEVER have too much VCR-capability! and assisted my big girl in the fitting-out, as it were of her fancy new "we're keeping the class fish for the summer" aquarium. Because I am a loser when it comes to fish (I tend to kill them even faster than I do plants!) i went out and bought the full on mondo-fancy, bio-filtration, uber-aeration "if-your-fish-die-it's-because-you-forgot-to-put-them-in-the-tank" tank so there is a better than average chance this one will survive her months in the Magnet home. One hopes, at any rate... hmmmmm. Maybe I better start sourcing "doppleganger" goldfish just in case...

Black Code

My dear friend Angel is back in town for a few days. He just stopped by to say "howdy" wearing this and I just about attacked him. Seriously, if you are in any way a boy/boyish/a big ole girl who occassionally plays at appearing masculine, you owe it to yourself to buy this cologne. You then owe it to the world to let every available girlish type person within smelling distance come nuzzle into your neck. All I know is that hand-to-god this stuff smells like really good sex. And lemon. With a bergamot chaser. Seriously.

Discussion Points...

The 12 year old sitting on my livingroom floor seems to think that a person should "work" at the beginning of a relationship but that once it's established they are allowed to slack off. I happen to think the opposite; that doing extraordinary amounts of work just to get someone to admit they like you is stupid (although, I will admit that I've just recently arrived at this conclusion) but that once you know you want to stay together for a little bit, that you then need to allow some time and energy for "working through" the inevitable shit that will occur. I know I'm right because I'm 37 and have been around the block a time or two and he is four. Conversely, I am routinely failing to find someone who is interested in touching my naughty bits for more than a time or two and he is happily ensconced in a committed, relatively long-term, relatively equal relationship with a smart, attractive pink-haired girl who, while she should honestly know better, doesn't seem to be going anywhere any time soon. Hmmmmmmm. I think that means he wins.

On an entirely unrelated note, the little pest just channeled his inner-hairdresser and gave me a really great haircut so while I may never recover from the twin annoyances of finding out that 1) I am once again facing months of no kissing and 2) DB may actually be smarter than me when it comes to relationships, at least I look good.

You win some...

So, I don't think I'm "seeing" anyone anymore. It's hard to say because I still very much like my boy and he very much still (he says) likes me but we never actually see each other. And, having taken a long, cool appraising glance at our respective lives, I don't think it's not super likely that we ever will. Given all of this, I'm thinking that maybe we should "just be friends" for awhile (the kind of friends that never see each other! :-]) and, having put that out there and not having recieved any strong opposition to the idea, I guess that's it. Weird. Anyway...

In other news, I got my 2-year olds new Birth Certificate in the mail today! Yay! They spelled her name wrong, so I have to send it back (seriously, what is up with people??!) but how cool that I am now listed TWICE in various county registries as the "mother" of "a baby girl"...!

Anyway, I'm at home right now, not working on a paper that's due today so I guess I need to get my get on and start working. Hope people's days are good. I'll check in later if/when this stupid (er...ah... i mean illustrative) tome is finished.

Best not to care...

Will be the name of my next book.

So, this morning started with me walking into some corner cafe and paying close to $3.00 to a bored young gentleman for a large cup of Organic, fair trade, Guatemalan shade-grown brown liquid. I filled my 80% recycled by-product paper cup and let the "shelf-talkers" explain to me how purchasing, distributing and ultimately drinking this particular brand could (and presumably would) lead to total and complete empowerment/self-sustainabilty for numerous rural fishing villiages in 3rd world/"developing" countries. Then, as I took a sip of the not-quite lukewarm, not quite noteworthy in any real way brew, I happened to suddenly become aware of the fact that whilst three (countem three) hip young caucasian gentlemen lounged behind the counter occassionally cutting a slice of wholewheat glutten banana bread or serving up an organic strawberry "crumble" in a reusable ceramic tureen for a customer (but, honestly, more often than not, chatting about whether or not the one individual needed "terrain" wheels on his bicycle for city riding or whether that was just plain "overkill") there was a middle aged woman apparently of Mexican descent changing out the coffee pots, wiping up the counter, sweeping together the left over newspapers and emptying the crap out of the used spoon receptacle. It occurred to me that it was not outside the realm of realistic possibility that this woman made less than the gents "on the register" and that's when I realized that there are moments in life when, really, if one intends to continue occupying space in this world/not giving in to the need to kill someone all the time, one really must learn that at times it is best not to care...

On an entirely different note, is there anyone on earth more compelling than Johnny Depp?? Well, maybe, but go have a look at the French kissing lesson in Cry-Baby and then try to convince me otherwise!

conversation

Boo: {subdued tiny voice} Hi, Mommy, it's me.
Me: Hey, Sweeetie what's up?
Boo: Ms. "World's Best Second Grade Teacher" says I can ask if I can have the fish.
Me: The class fish?
Boo: {still sad} Uh huh.
Me: Sure. O.K.
Boo: {surprise} Really?
Me: [thinking: "Is there a 'deal' here that I'm missing?"] yeah.
Boo: {happy} Yay!
Me: That it?
Boo: Uh huh. {pause} CP said I couldn't because we don't have room...
Me: {having it all become suddenly clear/anticipating future conversation with CP re: "undermining her authority/decisions/making it so that Boo want to be at my house more... blah, blah, blah!!!!"} Ah. Well. We have TONS of space so bring it, Baby!

:-]

Wow. Just wow.

http://www.cowboytroy.com/

Two-year-old is doing swell

Thanks fer asking! We just had our 24 month check up and at the nice Dr. office Ms. Simms-Mackey (aka "Best damn kid doctor in the world!") asked "Is she speaking in sentences yet? To which I replied "Hmmm. Not really. But she does have lots of words." And to which my Big Girl Two-year-old then replied: "Whar mi apple??!" Yes, That's right folks. Parenting = nothing more than a series of steps designed to show you that YOU. KNOW. NOTHING.

We also got shots. Which suck. Big Girl Trooper handled it well though her mother was a mess.

Pattern...?

You know who the across the board, most attractive, downright sexiest people are at my kid's school? The divorced moms and the married dads. I do not know what it is about being married that makes all the attached moms so freaking surly but, seriously, those chicks need to relax. There is one married mom who stand in opposition to the aforementioned rule but she is from new York so whaddaya want??

Tangential segue here. I love my big girl so much it's silly. This morning she was being all resigned about getting up and getting dressed and having her breakfast and assisting her sister down the stairs ... and after we dropped off the Spark at daycare and were heading across the bridge... after ALL of this good-natured usefulness, she remarks to me that she feels sick. Not in a whiney, screamy, moody way, but more in a "I feel bad. Not 'bad' like 'mad' but bad like kind of nauseous..." and I remark that I'm sorry but that we're almost to school and can she try it out and see if she feels better? And she says "yes." and promptly snuggles into my arm and falls asleep. Now, I'm not sure what it is about this whole scenario that makes my heart hurt but there it is... Kids. Get some. Love them.

Yay, yay, yay...

I {heart} my friends! I {heart} thier beautiful babies, too! Seriously, how is it possible that I have been so completely blessed as to have ALL the cool people in the world willing to play integral roles in my social circle??? (I'm not going to question it too much because that might lead to certain people asking certain questions and someone somewhere might realize it's all a huge mistake and ... well... that would just be BAD!) Pesh B-day celebration today was perfect. weather was perfect. Pals showed up, most with beautiful offspring in tow. Perfect. New Boyfriend made an appearance as well (which was particularly brave since basically his entire invitation was predicated upon the fact that a bunch of people wanted to have a look at him!) escorting one of the coolest 6 year olds ever... all in all it was just a really great fabulous turn-out and I am happy. And tired. But I'm always tired, so there you have it.

Happy 2nd B-Day, Baby!!!!!!

Today is my sweetie-Mouse's Second Birthday! Whoo Hoo! It is sooooo all about being a grown-up from here on in...! Now if i can hjsut figure out how to get the towel to "disappear"...