clickmom

loose lips

scene: me flitting around utopian kitchen getting stuff done chatting on phone with husband who is in his luxury vehicle chatting back with me from his hands free blue tooth speaker phone.

me: chat chat landscaper bla bla patio

husband: uh huh uh huh

me: bla bla tree roots bla bla contractor wants to take it down

husband: uh huh uh huh

me: bla bla utopian friend chat chat boulders

husband: By the way, did you see the email with the picture of the kitchen table? What do you think?

me: It's okay, I didn't cream my jeans over it or anything.

long empty pause

still pausing

more nothing

me: Husband?

husband: Paul wants me to tell you he is in the car with me tonight.

Paul: hi

me: OH JEEZ, sorry about that....

husband: About what?

me: You know, the sexual refere ..... You know, the ... the table thing ..... ummm .... you know, I gotta go. Bye.

click

home for terminally confused

scene: After a less than awesome chain restaurant dining experience lil sis and my parents and I treated the kids to some ice cream at a national mix in ice cream chain. All ten of us are lounging around outside when my nephew, who has been performing bodily experiments with his spoon, attempts some kind of pointy end in the belly button manuever and lil sis gently points out that the ability to store flatwear in your belly button might not be an asset one should advertise.

Me: You have an outie sis. You can't put anything in your button

Sis: I don't have an outie. I have an innie.

Me. You do??? Since when??

Sis: Since always. (shows me her innie) mom! Did I ever have an outie?

Mom: No you don't have an outie. The husband has an outie.

Me: What? (more tham slightly freaked out that my mommy is discussing the belly button of the one and only person i am allowed to do the horizontal tango with) My husband could lose a fork in his. How could you say he has an outie?

Mom: (serious and adamant!) ( leans forward for emphasis. Looks me straight in the eye like I am the crazy one) Your husband has an outie.

Me: (skin begins to seriously crawl) I am fairly certain that in the 20 years I have known him he has never had an outie.

Lil sis and I begin side conversation regarding the husband's awesome new 8 pack. And the parents murmur passionately to each other.

Dad: Click! What kind of car does the husband drive?

Me: a Benz.

Dad: before that.

Me: an Audi.

Mom: See! I know what I am talking about!

home for terminally confused

scene: After a less than awesome chain restaurant dining experience lil sis and my parents and I treated the kids to some ice cream at a national mix in ice cream chain. All ten of us are lounging around outside when my nephew, who has been performing bodily experiments with his spoon, attempts some kind of pointy end in the belly button manuever and lil sis gently points out that the ability to store flatwear in your belly button might not be an asset one should advertise.

Me: You have an outie sis. You can't put anything in your button

Sis: I don't have an outie. I have an innie.

Me. You do??? Since when??

Sis: Since always. (shows me her innie) mom! Did I ever have an outie?

Mom: No you don't have an outie. The husband has an outie.

Me: What? (more tham slightly freaked out that my mommy is discussing the belly button of the one and only person i am allowed to do the horizontal tango with) My husband could lose a fork in his. How could you say he has an outie?

Lil sis and I begin side conversation regarding the husband's awesome new 8 pack. And the parents murmur to each other.

Dad: Click! What kind of car does the husband drive?

Me: a Benz.

Dad: before that.

Me: an Audi.

Mom: See! I know what I am talking about!

home is where the heart is

I am so filled with love for my kids the past couple of days.

So with the three of them sitting down at the table for dinner last night I said "Let's talk about how much I just love you so much I can't believe it right now I am about to burst." And they all three froze forks in mid air. And then their eyes began to dart back and forth. Me, a brother, me, a brother, me, brother and so on. I just stood there smiling sweetly and letting them bask in the warmth of my loving ,mother rays. It was Matt who spoke first. He said "Uh mom, do you need us to do something for you?" and I replied "No, darling, I just want you to know how I feel." and he tried again "Mom, is there some kind of new diet you are putting us on?"

Feel the love.

laughing all the way home (and more)

I get this nice "Matt and me" time in the mornings since I don't wake Evan or Josh up until I return from dropping Matt off at school. And most every day I really savor the short time Matt and I have together in the car going to school. Today was one of those nice perfect savoring days. As a matter of fact, as we neared the school driveway I kind of even sighed in my own head thinking how delightful his company had been on my first morning back with the living. (I was SO sick people!!) The rain had stopped, my sun roof was open, the temp was perfect. Once in the school driveway, but not close enough to the entrance for me to actually give him the boot, Matt, announced, "I can't believe that Elton John would use such a word in such a common every day way in a song." The radio had been quietly playing in the background during this tender mother son bonding drive to school. I say "huh? What word?" and Matt says "Vaj-a-bond."

This is the part where I have to split things up into two distinct categories. "WIS" is What I Said and "WWGOIMH" is What Was Going On In My Head.. Okay? Fasten your seat belts. Here we go.....

WIS: How could Elton what?

WWGOIMH: Elton, how could you get so Disney?!

WIS: Oh, you....

WWGOIMH: Vaj? Why did he say it so wrong?

WIS: mean vagabond, that's what you call a....

WWGOIMH: Oh, he read it off the satellite radio player. How cute.

WIS: homeless, wandering.....

WWGOIMH: Vaj. Badge. Madge. Oh, I remember when I loved Madonna.

WIS: person..... you say it vag-a-bond.

WWGOIMH: Vaj? Hey..... that sounds like vaj from vagina! !!!!!!!!!!!! Wait a minute!

WIS: Matt, what did you think it means?

WWGOIMH: Matt=15=horny boy=everything sexual

WIS: ma... (stifle laughter) ma.... (stifle laughter) Matt!

WWGOIMH: He thought Elton was singing about Vaginas!

(Just then I am close enough for Matt and his seriously red cheeks to make a run for it before I fully explode into fits of laughter and Matt seizes the opportunity. He dives for the door handle. I choke back the guffaws. He slams the door. Tears begin to roll down my cheeks. But Matt forgot his umbrella! He shoots me the "Mom! Don't scar me for life look, and reaches for the door, when I .....)

WIS: BWAH HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I then proceeded to laugh myself silly driving down the eternal HS driveway (sun roof open- everyone hears).

I laughed all the way home. I almost had to pull over on the side of the road I was tearing/shaking/laughing so much. I had giggle fits all day long just whispering to myself "vaj-a-bond".

In the meantime have come up with some....

Suggested uses for Vaj-a-bond:

1. Make sure your daughter returns from that date a virgin! Try Vaj-a-bond!
2. Tough time delivering that 10 pound kid? Try Vaj-a-bond!
3. Pre-term labor? No Problem! Try Vaj-a-bond!
4. Undies won't stay up? No Problem! Try Vaj-a-bond!

Maybe you have some ideas too!

shoulda sent them home

Wildmom threw a big BBQ the night of the Eagles concert and since a wildmom party is fun for the whole the whole family I let my guys stay for a little while and walk home themselves after the husband I had to leave for the concert.

The next morning at breakfast Evan mentioned to me that Matt had been the center of attention for a while after we had left. It seems that one of the older kids challenged Matt to make a drawing, which he did. And the kids loved it so much that someone ran home and made copies to distribute to the crowd. Then Evan said that what Matt was drawing was "An emo spongebob on a dildo-saurus."

Yup, I was speechless too.

Then I managed to squeeze out " a what?"

And Evan said that word again. Then I asked I asked Evan what a dildo-saurus is and Evan said it is "Like a big hot dog with 18 legs."

Then Evan ran upstairs to get some copies of the signed by the artist G rated drawings Matt had made. They were benign. But they are not the one I am living in fear that some other parent unfolds when cleaning out pants pockets while doing laundry this week.

When big brother Matt rolled out of bed a couple of hours later I casually mentioned that I heard he was drawing for the crowd the night before. He turned 18 shades of red. Then he heard one of my famous speeches. Matt admitting to having a copy of the worst drawing, but because of the fever I have not been able to sift through his room for my own personal horrifying peek.

So far the phone has been eerily silent.

time

We went to see grandma today and the kids were busy with each other. Grandma can't really hear unless she is half lip reading and you are talking directly to her and keeping it s.l.o.w. so she was just watching them. I asked them to please try to engage grandma.

Josh leaned in nice and close to grandma and said "So, uh, what are you in for?"

I was very happy when we left because grandma did not want to go to bed for a change (she was probably too hopped up on sugar- yup, we took her for ice cream again) so I put her in front of the television. But as we left I saw her scooting her wheelchair across the room to where there was a group of old ladies gathered around and chatting. Grandma is not usually so social. It was a good thing.

Also, I am going to the Eagles concert tonight at Madison Square Garden!! Woo Hoo!!! Yay husband and his ticket scalper! And I am going to know every single word of every pre-year 2000 song! Watch me sing-a-long! Woo Hoo!

edible

Matt remarked how all of Josh's (and Josh's friends too) 7 year old energy and focus had shifted away from all things Star Wars and was now aimed at all things Indiana Jones. Josh informed us that this was the way he did things. As an example of his steadfast loyalty to what it is that he really likes Josh referenced his ability to go from one book series to another as long as the books are written by Dav Pilkey. "And therefore" Josh went on in his very adult like and matter of fact kind of way "It's only natural for me to have an interest in Indiana Jones, because after all, (lifts his finger in the air in intellectual emphasis) Hans Solo is played by Indiana Jones."

I could just eat him. Seriously, I could.

manly

Matt kept me company when I went to the pet food store the other day. After I paid for the 28 pound of diet dog food I pointed to the friendly dog food bag toting clerk and let him know that my strapping young son would be carrying the dog food bag for me. Matt awkwardly grasped the 28 pounds of dead weight dog food, carried it the short distance to the car in his special kind of ungainly way, and tossed it through the rear window. When we got home Matt, like the future good husband I am trying to train him to be, went back to the back of the car to fetch the anvil/dog food. I ran for the door since it was drizzling, and stood inside listening as Matt grunted and groaned as he struggled to lift the leaden parcel up and through the open hatch window. I thought to myself that Matt was sounding rather weakish and maybe even wimpy-ish.

Eventually Matt got a hold of the bag and made his way into the house. I gave him the "I heard your cries of distress look" as he breezed by me and then with out skipping a beat he very casually said in his smooth baritone voice "Did you enjoy all of my very manly sound effects?"

high!

Josh's class was doing some thing on Colombia today. All I could think about regarding Colombia is that 1. that is where my house cleaner guy is from 2. Cocaine and 3. COCAINE and lastly 4. cocaine. It was right after we got home and Josh were having some small talk, and I asked him what he done in school to learn about Colombia (cocaine) today.

me: So what kind of Colombia things did you do?
(thinking: cocaine)

Josh: All we did was a word search.

me: What kind of words? (thinking cocaine)

Josh: Well, first we had to find Colombia.

me: That makes sense, what else? (thinking cocaine)

Josh: Then we had to get high.

me: ........... ga............
(can't talk because I am trying to hard to stifle the laughter)

Josh: Yeah, that's the only two I remember.

me: (........ giggle....giggle... )High??

Josh: Oh yeah, and then we found the spanish word for high.

me: gasp......choke...... giggle

Evan aka: Star of the police run drug abuse prevention program (from the other room)
Did he just say "We had to get High??"

me: HAHA haha HAHA haha!!!!!!!!!!!
Evan, I can't take it!
HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

Josh: What's so funny.

me: (stop rolling on floor to speak) Josh, how do you spell "high"?

Josh: H-I You know, like saying Hello....

me: Got it. (roll on the floor some more)

bad ass ride

It was hard for me to decide what I wanted to do today. I am really trying not to sink into a depression.

Maybe it's not a depression exactly, more like a I am completely overwhelmed and paralyzed from thinking about what the next year or two will bring. I secretly keep thinking that eventually I will be going to 3 funerals in a very short period of time. But maybe it won't be so soon, and I would hate to spend the next year holding my breath and not being as engaged as I could be if nothing horrible is going to happen "soon."

Right now I am walking around feeling like I can just obey orders. If someone asks me to be somewhere and do something at a certain time I can do it. But asking me to be as creative as coming up with my own thing to do feels impossible. We didn't have anything special planned for today (ahem husband) and I really wanted Matt to go to the gym. So I went to the gym with Matt. And it was completely weird to be next to him on the elliptical machine. Usually I tune out the whole room, but today he kept tapping me on the shoulder to share my water bottle. Which was fine, just weird.

Then we came home and showered and didn't know what to do for the rest of the day. So I thought and thought, and I had been secretly hoping for rain so we could go to the movies. That is always such an easy choice, but it wasn't rainy, and these days it is a bit of a challenge to find stuff to do that all ages of our family find agreeable, and then it hit me like a bolt of lightning. We took the kids to the near-by cheesy rinky dink amusement park.

And I got to watch my kids laugh and giggle for a couple of hours. Other than the not so proud 3 minutes of me laughing my hysterical hyena laugh of terror on the free fall ride, I had a lovely time watching my kids enjoying themselves. It was totally what I needed. Imagine the expression of pure heaven on Evan's face as he rammed his bumper car into strangers, or the tenderness of Matt as he rode the little kiddy roller coaster for Josh's sake, or the bittersweet (my baby is SO growing up) uttering of Josh, my baby, on that same kiddee roller coaster when just before the ride began he leaned in to Evan, who he was sharing his seat with and said "Evan, dude, this is going to be one bad ass ride. Am I right?"

Happy Mothers Day to all the mothers out there.

command

I talk to myself. All the time. Pretty much non stop. As a matter of fact, when I am not singing out loud in the car, I am often engaging in a lively chat with (pause for effect) myself. But these days I can wear a head phone and people peering through my wind shield will think I am connected via cell phone to another person. I like it that way. This way I agree with most of my own suggestions, am nearly always supportive, and know when to shut up too.

Sometimes I catch myself doing the talking aloud thing with the kids nearby and I pretend that my chatter was directed towards whoever happened to be in the room, but the truth is that I mostly do not expect an answer. So, you might wonder where I am going with this, the other day when I happened upon Josh's corrected spelling homework I did not like the comment that his teacher wrote on the top of the page.

And I actually (yes, I am brain dead) forgot that the husband was sitting at the table with me. And I said something like, "In my day "Spin me." and "Slap me." were considered complete sentences. It used to be called a command before they changed everything to confuse the parents." And I said it with the bad girl a.t.t.i.t.u.d.e. that I save for private conversations with myself. And I was pretty shocked/surprised to hear A VOICE (hello husband) present me with a suggestion. I now present to you, dear readers, the corrected with the suggestion version of Josh's more complete spelling sentences. Ta da..

PS Come on folks, I know you are out there, I checked my stats. Scroll down to yesterday's post and play along! The new game can be called "Top Jen's suggestion!" Please...

guess

me: Evan you have to change from the raunchy stand up comedy channel on the satellite radio before your friend gets in the car. His mom is strict. He doesn't even get to see PG13 movies.

Evan: N.O. W.A.Y.

me: Yup, it is true. She feels very strongly about that and I don't want us to be the bad influence. (Naturally I forgot that we might have let him see an R rated movie once at our house -whistle - whistle - look casual and gaze off into space)

Evan: Wait. Is that even HEALTHY?

Speaking of satellite radio, they have ads!! Ads which I find incredibly disappointing (aren't I paying for ad free radio?) and annoying and most of all. Those ads are giving me quite the complex. It seems that the target audience for satellite radio has bad credit, can't get their penises up, have tiny penises anyway and isn't good in bed anyway, has excess weight around the middle (wait, that is me....) and something like spackle in their intestines (oh no!), can't bother traveling to a business meeting, can't do their own taxes, or manage their money, actually believe that they can make money selling goods over the internet that they never have to see, and live in fear of becoming an identity theft victim. How could someone (who is hopefully spackle-less) such as myself, my meetingless, penisless, not interested in sales, set with an accountant, and secure in my own identity stand listening to these ads? I can't. Someone tell XM they aren't sticking to their part of the bargain and folks like me (cause you all feel the same, right?) are thinking of jumping ship. At least when I listen to lame ads on FM it's free.

PS You know up there in the header it suggests that I have been lying by omission and you guys are all probably wondering if that could be true. Could it all actually be worse than what I have been telling you? Doesn't seem it could get worse right? Can one family take another hit? I mean, maybe in the fictional television soap opera world, but in reality? Nah... Wrong! You better sit down, cause there is more. But I am just taunting you here, because I am still working on that tell-more (as opposed to tell-all) post in my head. You guys are going to need to gear up for that one. Hopefully I'll get my act together for tomorrow or the next day. Yeah, I am going to promise to have it to you by Friday. In the mean time, please guess! Let me have some fun in these trying times! (and if you are a real life friend and you know what I am talking about - don't guess!) I'll give you two hints: it does not involve an alien abduction or another fatal disease.

PPS For the grandma fan club- she was transferred to my first choice rehab/nursing home today. I have high hopes. Cross your fingers for good decent care.

not paint

I first figured out that Matt had a milk allergy when he was about 20 months old. After taking him completely off of milk we had a blissful excema free year of sleeping through the night. Then I broke down from societal pressure and let him have milk again. And he still still slept through the night. So I kept letting him have milk until he ate milk all the time and was 9 years old and covered with excema and an emotional wreck and something inside of me thought that maybe I should get him off the milk again and when I did not only did the excema clear right up, but his emotions settled into a nice normal range. And that was the end of Matt's milk eating days. Today he is 15 so it has been a long run without.

This morning I was toasting bagels for Matt and the husband and the husband said he wanted cream cheese on his. Matt was trying to be helpful, so he at first put his margarine on the husband's bagel. But he realized quickly that this was not what the husband wanted, so he asked. And the husband said "cream cheese" and Matt did not hear me when I said he should take care of his own and I would handle the rest. And Matt, he who has no experience with all things dairy, took out the sour cream and attempted to spread it on the husband's bagel. Matt said "Oh wait, I think this is sour cream" and I jumped up to do some bagel scraping (and maybe snapped at Matt just a little bit). But I had to admit, that it was kind of amusing that the dairy free kid hadn't the foggiest of clues how to handle a request for cream cheese. Kind of like how my house cleaners sometimes appear to be from another planet when they do things like put the cordless phone into a bowl of fruit or toss the kids way ward socks into the toy bin.

Speaking of socks, Don't you hate it when you go on a laundry washing binge (because it's only been forever since your last load) and you are standing at the dryewr waiting for it to finish, but you don't have the patience to wait for the energy wasting anyway cool down to be over, so you try to reach in and grab all the hot dry clothes and you burn yourself on a metal jeans waistband button? Me too.

Also, someone needs to help me explain to the kids that there is a difference between "I need clean underwear" and "I want clean underwear because I am not flexible enough to go without for a day or four". My kids, as perfect as they are, can be so demanding sometimes.

And for my grand finale tonight..... also, to fulfill my "voices" NaBlaBla quota for the day I present to you me and Matt chatting in the car.

me: I see you had art today.
Matt: No
me: Are you sure?
Matt: Yup, no art today.
me: Then ..... why is there paint on your jeans?
Matt: Paint? That's not paint.
me: Looks like paint to me.
Matt: ........
me: (gulp)What is on your jeans?
Matt: Oh, that, yeah, ah that... yeah.... that's not paint. That's a funny story if you think about it. You see, I bought lunch in school today and I got some mustard up here (points to small stain near crotch) so I figured "Well, that might bring some unwanted attention to the wrong area of me." So I took some more mustard and some ketchup and I rubbed all over myself over here. Then he smiles, looking quite pleased at his keen 15 year old reasoning.
me: u...aa......m.... What?!?

silent

Dear birthday boy,

You just totally hate participating in the school concerts. You told me that when his class was forced to sing One Eyed Purple People Eater he did not sing. You think the song was written by a stoner and you won't sing it. When one of the kids in your class asked you why you weren't singing you told mt that you glared at the kid and in your best stone cold voice said "My uncle is a purple people eater."

Watching you grow up is a thrill.
Happy Birthday Evan.

Love, Mom

gone fishing

Deae Josh's innocence,

Because I am never stressed or just the wee bit of a screaming shrew when it comes to any sort of travel I managed to end up in utopia while the two carefully packed bags, one with my strategically chosen clothes for the week and the other with Josh's all purpose all weather play clothes remained on the stair case at home.

So, it would follow that I ended up at the brand spanking new Target store down the road the other morning with Josh and also Matt to buy a whole new partial wardrobe for me and my sweetie pie. While in Target we purused the t-shirt display for men. Matt is always on the lookout for t-shirts with the right kind of teenaged snarky attitude saying on it. There was one lovely shirt with a picture of a squirrel holding up two mutated humongous acorns and Josh read the saying. It said. "Mine are bigger than yours" and Matt and I exchanged glancesand Josh laughed and declared "That's so funny! He has big ACORNS!"

On the drive home I reprimanded Matt for mentioning my blog in front of Jailbait, who had stopped by to visit with the family earlier in the day. Josh wanted to know why we called the babysitter Jailbait. Matt and I exchanged another glance. Matt said "because you... Uh....you could go to jail if you.... Uhhh..." and Josh finished Matt's thought with " and then you could go fishing!"

So listen innocence, hang around for as long as you want. I am in no rush to see you go and don't ever think we are taking you are for granted. We appreciate you all the time, we just don't want Josh to think we are laughing at him.

Your admirer, clickmom

Dear Boops

Dear Boops,

Remember how yesterday I said the husband got pulled over with your kids in the car and I was telling you because I thought you should hear it from me and not your kids? Well, as usual, having a kid in the car with a photographic memory came in handy. During dinner tonight Matt suddenly began to giggle and then he went on to relay this little exchange for me. It isn't quite how I heard it from the husband. Here it is. This is the husband/cop conversation in it's true and raw form which Matt thoughtfully transcribed for me. The car registration was in my purse that day. I had taken it out of the car to photocopy it for the insurance company, whose card we can't find either. So the glove box was pretty much empty. That is what all the rummaging Matt speaks of was about. I am assuming Matt's version is 100% accurate since the husband sat there just listening without saying during a word in his defense. He is usually more tactful with authority and a better influence on the kids. I plan on putting him in a very long time out.

What Matt Heard:
Dad sees Cop pulling him over
Dad: What? He's pulling me over? Really? Come on! (pulls over)
Cop: Sir, do you know why I pulled you over?
Dad: No, not really. I was going 75...
Cop: Actually you were going 78, but that isn't why I pulled you over. Are you sure you have no idea why I pulled you over?
Dad: Yeah, I mean, what did I do?
Cop: The left side and right side of your car have been in different lanes at the same time twice, now, uh, is there something distracting you? Maybe paying a little too much attention to the guys in the back seat?
Dad: No, no...
Cop: Were you out late partying last night?
Dad: (sarcastically) oh yeah, I'm a big party-er (seriously) no, no I didn't
Cop: Sir, do you find this funny?
Dad: (laughing) no
Cop: Don't laugh
Dad: (laughing) okay
Cop: Can I see your license and registration?
Dad: Sure, let me see... (rummages thru stuff for 20 minutes)
Cop: I'm just gonna go back to my car and write up some papers
(Dad keeps rummaging for things for a really long time until cop comes back)
Cop: So, did you find it?
Dad: No, {excuse}.
Cop: Alright, normally this would be a 1800 dollar fine, but I'm going to write you off with a warning.
Dad: Alright
(Dad and the cop finish up and we drive away)
Me: Seriously, I thought you had him in the palm of your hand with the jokes.

Hanging my head in shame (or maybe just trying to hide the giggles),
I mean, "Oh yeah, I'm a big party-er?"
Clickmom

Dear Clickmom,

This is hysterical because it's almost verbatim (though of course not as literally verbatim) as what my kids recounted. I waved them away, saying, I'm sure click's husband didn't say he'd been partying (even though I heard the context of how he said it), and I'm sure click's husband didn't talk back in any way—all the while cautioning the kids to never talk back to a cop even when they're obviously wrong...

They've been acting it out over and over again. They were thrilled, because they'd never been in a car that was pulled over. I had Evan's pal read Matt's transcript and he pronounced it almost to the word perfect. I asked him if he was scared at any time, and he thought for a minute. Then he said, No, I wasn't scared. But since I've never been a car that got stopped by the cops, I didn't know what to expect.

Matt's pal told me that when the cop told your huband he had him shifting lanes on film, my kid whispered to the other kids: I wonder if we'll be on Cops....

With Reservation,
Maybe the kids should play at my house from now on,
Boops

Dear Boops,

Upon questioning, Matt has informed me that he was only giving me "The Reader's Digest version". He also says that your kid said to the husband "You should get out of the car and run away so we could be on cops!"

Hold me, I'm scared.
But still laughing on the inside,
Click

Dear Sweet Baby

Dear Evan,

Last weekend you went to see Young Frankenstein on Broadway for Matt's birthday. You enjoyed it very much. You said you thought it was the best play you had ever seen.

Today, upon coming home after leaving you in charge of Josh for a few minutes while I dropped Matt somewhere, I over heard this little exchange:

You: IGOR! Bring me a glass of seltzer!
Josh: Yes sir, Dr. Frankenstein!

(Josh rushes into the kitchen to pour you a glass of seltzer)

I am going to remember this forever and one day I am going to bring it up again. Probably in front of your boss, or maybe when you introduce me to that someone special. Or maybe I will use it in my own defense if you ever write your autobiography.

I love you sweet baby,
Love, mom

better day

I am trying to eavesdrop on Evan who is on the phone with one of his utopian friends. I have no idea what they are talking about because Evan is mostly saying "Yeah, Uh Hum, that's interesting...." which gives me no clue at all. I did catch this statement though "That's funny because cracker also refers to a white person." and now I'm kind of afraid to know.

Good News! Grandma had a filter put in today because she developed a blood clot. That went fine, but the best news is that she also got her stitches out and the surgeon says she can start walking again!! Yahooo! Now the whole family is stitch free and mobile. This combined with the bald eagle I saw gracefully gliding through the air Wednesday afternoon surely means that things are looking up for us, right????

2 questions

Evan, inorder to complete his homework, had to call a (friend-type) classmate for the spelling words the other night. While they were on the phone, Evan asked the boy if he would like to come over Friday for a play date. The mom, with whom I have had some very nice pleasant chats and am interested in getting to know better, called me back an hour or so later to tell me that the son could not come to our house he had a scouts related activity that day. And then she said, with some kind of uncomfortable that I just couldn't place in her voice, "Can I ask you a couple of questions?" And my heart kind of twisted into a knot (because Oh No What Did Evan Say/Do? What kind of Freak Family does this woman think I am part of now?Oh! Evan!) and then I, despite the fright stomping on my chest, (deep breath) casually said "Sure!"

She hesitates.

Then finally.

"Were you .... bit by a shark?"

"Yes I was!" (relief!) Whew, I'm sure that seems unbelievable to the average suburban garden state house wife. Okay, that was easy, chit chat a little, share a little, is there something (gulp) else?

pause

more pause

I begin to sweat.

tick tick tick

"Were... Were.....Were you a Hooters waitress .... and did you wear a studded dog collar?"

??????????????????

WTF??

Thinking.....

Still thinking .......

Wheels turning....hmmm that does sound familiar.....

"Oh No! That wasn't me! That was Evan's Aunt, my little sister! Yes! But not at the same time! Hahahaha!"

NaBurnedOutAtDay18

The scales are loaded with this right now: sleep on the one side and post on the other.
Naturally I'm going to post, because I said I would post each and every day for a whole painfully long month and heaven forbid I don't after thinking all those evil thoughts about the lucky people on the randomiser who skipped a day, but here is about all I am capable of right now. I've got two tid bits of cuteness that I emailed myself after hearing them (so I wouldn't forget!) and that is about it.

1. The husband took the boys to an old fashioned Kosher deli. It was full of atmosphere. They had the hundred year old shriveled salamis hanging from the ceiling. Evan glanced up and said "Whoa! Those things look like grandma!"

2. Putting Josh to bed he said to me "So, my bed is a jack right?" And I was so confused that I didn't know what to say. I just looked at him with my screwed up face. Then Josh, trying to clear things up for me, went on "Well, if yours is a king and Matt's is a queen, then what else is there?"

Also, Postsecret didn't post new post cards today and I am totally bumming. sigh. Well at least my girls at gofugyourself are not at a fashion show this week and Monday is always a good day over there.

That's all I got.

Oh grandma!

I stopped in to see grandma this afternoon. We had a slightly altered version of the very same exact conversation we have every other time I show up without any one else with me.

Me: Hi Grandma! How are you?
Grandma: Hi dear. I don’t feel well. Something is wrong. But never mind me. Where are the kids?
Me: At school.
Grandma: School? They have school today?
Me: Yes, today is Monday so they are at school.
Grandma: Where are the kids?
Me: At school grandma, it’s Monday and they had to go to school.
Grandma: It’s Monday?!?
Me: All day.
Grandma: Where is your “boyfriend”? (grandma cute for “I can’t remember the name of that guy you are married to”)
Me: He’s at work.
Grandma: Work?!?!
Me: Yes, it’s Monday and he had to go to work today.
Grandma: Your “boyfriend” is at work?
Me: yes.
Grandma: Today?
Me: Yes, it’s Monday so it’s a work day.
Grandma: I think you should get another boyfriend to keep you company (wink wink) when this one is working. He works too much.

speechless

There are just somethings in the too much information category you never want to know about family members no matter what. Unfortunately, the scumcle didn’t recognize that bit of social grace when one day he casually mentioned to me that he believed that grandma didn’t put out for grandpa and that grandpa had to pay for that kind service elsewhere. See? You didn’t want to know that either did you?

I believe the scumcle might be correct in his assumptions because one day, back when grandma’s memory was still intact, grandma told me that when she and grandpa decided to try for kids she would only let him touch her once a month and then she would convince him to wait and see if they had been successful. Poor grandpa.

But this really doesn’t jive with the grandma I know. The grandma I know is very touchy and affectionate. As a matter of fact there are times when it is about all I do not to yell at grandma for caressing one particular spot on my arm until I suspect the skin will be worn right down to the bone. Grandma also likes to caress my thigh, a wee bit too high and too much on the inside for comfort, and lunge down for creepy unsuspected geezer kisses on the back of the kid’s necks. Also she has lately started grabbing people’s behinds and breasts. Except she doesn’t save this endearing behavior just for the family, no grandma is an equal opportunity grabber, and if you make eye contact with her pretty much you are a sitting duck for some kind of arthritic claw squeeze somewhere/anywhere on your person. At first the kind staff at the Old Folks Home fell prey to her lecherous ways, then as she became more comfortable there she started in on her peers. I heard that some of the geezers went to the staff feeling maybe (completely) a bit (molested) sexually harassed by grandma. Grandma needs to learn to respect other people’s spaces. I am afraid she might be the first geezer in the history of assisted living to be voted off the OFH.

In the mean time, grandma (with all that sex on her mind) manages to work sex into everything I say (well, at least what of it she hears) during our visits. Much of the time she works it into something that can be insulting towards my dad, who she is still all hung up about because he is much older than mom. (20 years to be exact) A while ago she joked that dad must have a little man part. (I know, I know) and the other day when I was out with grandma and mom and mom was worn out and needed to go home and I couldn’t mention mom’s illness to grandma because we haven’t told her (to protect her, it would kill her to know) I said we were taking mom home because dad was home alone. I said “You know those men, they don’t do well on their own.” To which grandma replied “Yeah, I know. It’s a lot 'funner' doing it on top of her than it is doing it on his own.”

buy a bago

Sneaking in a quickie while the folks are spellbound to prime-time television, now the television is ALWAYS on in this house, sob.

So, Wheel of Fortune was on, (which is a whole 'nother story in itself..) loud enough to hear in any corner of our rambling domicile, naturally, and today the grand prize winner won the grand prize of a Winnebago. Woo Hoo. (Secretly I would totally, in a heart beat, throw my kids into a Winnebago and do a history of our country/beautiful landscapes tour in a heart beat, but don't tell the family that I have these trailer trash urges, OK?) So, being real snotty Stepford types (I was faking it tonight! All an act!) we snickered a bit at the prize and I said I thought there was always a cash option you could take. Josh, always ready to both agree with my opinion and come to my defense (I love him so much!) but not always quite getting what is going on enthusiastically declared "Yeah! They should just give her the money and then she could use it to buy a Bago!"

hospital tales

My mom had a heavily accented english as a second language kind of nurse today and I listened (with a big smirk on my face) as my mother (who has such a bizarre way of saying somethings I just don't know where she is from sometimes) tried to tell the nurse the name of one of her doctors. My mom said "Robitt" and the nurse shook her head in confusion and leaned in for a better hear. My mom repeated slower and louder "R o b i t t" and the nurse looked up at me. I was smiling with all the evil satisfaction a girl can muster after her mom has been in the hospital for 5 days. The nurse leaned even closer as mom said even louder and slower "R O B I T T". The nurse looked at me and asked "Robert?" I nodded and managed to suppress a laugh.

Then mom told me all about the anteebeeotics they have been giving her.

stupid shakers

yesterday I took the kids to a Shaker village/museum/farm for the day. We actually had a lovely time and I enjoyed there curiosity and enthusiasm. When we got the dining room I spied the dumbwaiter. Feeling all guilty and sentimental about the dumbwaiter that used to be in our torn down house I said "Oooh,look boys a dumbwaiter" Then Matt, very honestly (and obviously confused) asked "Do they use one of their own or do they hire someone from the outside?"

career options

So, the camp Evan went to and had a great time at and wants to go back to for every summer of his youth was a Jewish camp. Evan came home having learned all sorts of Hebrew words and expressions and having had to attend services several times a day. He has already exceeded my –you could fit it on the head of a pin- knowledge of anything Jewish related. I was all worried that he was going to become a rabbi or something. Tonight he told me that the only thing bad about his camp was that it is a Jewish camp. And I said “Does this mean you are not going to become a rabbi?” and he looked at me like I had two heads and said “That depends, do rabbis drive Lamborgini’s?”

special for Danelle

The husband took the boys to see Evan Almighty today. As the whole media connected world must know by now (because if you haven't seen the trailers you have been living in a cave or under a rock or somewhere so fabulous I don't dare to think about it) in this movie "Evan" is asked by god to build an ark which he eventually does. "Evan" begins to resemble Noah during the process, which means he grows a long biblical looking (according to 17th century european artists) beard and a rogain inspired healthy looking head of shaggy long hair. Obviously, despite having the tools and ability to build massive animal retaining sailing vessels no one had bothered to invent scissors before Noah's time.

After the movie while dining at one of our nations superb chain restaurants, Josh reached over, lifted up a lock of Matt's unruly uncut curls and said "Matt, are you Noah?"

getting sleepy

So, my dad kind of has "old dog syndrome". He sleeps a lot. Pretty much, if you aren't taking him for a walk, he is either sleeping or eating. Mostly sleeping. Matt, who notices everything, was kind of impressed by his grandfather's super sleeping ability which even exceeded his own impressive teenage need for ZZZs. When they were sitting beside each other on the couch the other morning, my dad missed the weather forecast and asked Matt what the weather guy had said. Matt turned to my dad and with a dead serious delivery he said "It's an early morning nap, followed by an early afternoon nap, followed by an early evening nap, and then more sleep to follow." Mom and I were hiding behind the kitchen cabinet choking back the early morning laughter.

gesture

I went on a 36 hour babes get-away. It was awesome and completely rejuvenating. There are photos, but I haven't gotten them off the camera yet. Soon.

I came home just time to cure the hangover and greet my mother! and father! Hi folks! Nobody talk too loud! describe a surgical procedure! or prepare heavily scented food! Turn that light off, would you? I'm fine, why do you ask?

So, I won't have too much private time on the computer but here is the one exchange you might be sorry you missed.

Setting: Grandma's 95 degree apartment. Dad has come to see it for the first time. He has already stated that he might not make not make it out before fainting from the heat. He is panting and sprawled on the couch. Mom and I have convinced grandma that today is the special occasion she has been waiting for, so it is okay to wear some of the new clothes that mom brought her last February for her birthday. As grandma, age 95, reluctantly peels off her favorite black polyester pants, we notice that there are some fresh letters scattered about from some place that is dying to include her in a longevity study. They want to know her secret. (My opinion: it's insanity) Grandma, age 95, completes dressing and sits back down in her recliner. Then I say (with a devilish twinkle in my eye because in my head I am reeling through all the really mean answers) "Grandma, they want to know your secret for long life. What is it?" Dad, age 87, and married to grandma's one and only daughter, perks right up, leans forward towards grandma and says "I know what you should tell them! Lots of sex!!" Grandma, age 95, leans forward, shoots him the "I never did like you." look, leans toward mom and says "I bet he doesn't even have a ..." and makes a hand gesture for penis.

Good times folks, good times.

play along

The table topics card we pulled the other night asked "If you could have any view from your bedroom window what would it be?" The husband wasn't here, so it was only me and the boys. See how well you know us and guess who said what.

A. Sunrise over mountains
B. Cops beating up hippies
C The entire universe and every single planet
D. I dunno, I liked the view of the Eiffel Tower from our hotel in Paris

reeding iz fuhndemantil

Josh: What begins with a G and ends with an A?

gaga?
grappa?
gondola?
Ghandi? (That was Evan's)

Josh: No! It's GAY!!

apologizing in advance

Typically when I am making a whole chicken for dinner the husband and Matt have the white meat and the rest of us enjoy dark. Since grandma was coming for dinner and I wasn't sure which type of poultry she preferred I picked up plenty of both. As I stood at the kitchen stove assembling plates I asked each member of the family if they wanted white or dark meat. In an unusual turn of events Evan requested white. During dinner Evan declared "I like the breast" and I casually replied "Daddy likes breasts too". As usual for me, my mouth flies into action about 5 seconds before the brain kicks in and realizes just how lewd I am about to sound. But Evan didn't miss a beat because he kept his chin down, looked up through his eyebrows and laughed the evilest little laugh ever. Mothers of daughters, you have been warned.

my dad

Normally we would be making our obligatory once yearly visit to my parents in Florida during this vacation. Since we wanted to come here and not there, the husband invited my parents to come for the second half of this vacation. And they're here.

Before we left for this trip we made our usual pilgrimage to Staples for drawing supplies. At Staples Matt requested a small note pad that he could carry around with him and take down interesting Bahamian people's names. He was looking for name inspiration for future characters in his writing, movie making and drawing.

At breakfast with my parents yesterday Matt whipped out his little pad and began writing. It was soon clear to me that he was not taking down names, but writing something much longer. I leaned in to my mom and whispered "Look how serious Matt is". Just then serious Matt looked up from his pad and said "I need a word that word that rhymes with RUT." My 87 year old Dad quickly turned to face my 14 year old son and responded "I have one! SLUT. That's S-L-U-T"

All I can say is that I thought they were going to have to use the paddles on the husband. Clear!

crazy doesn't fall far from the tree. OR blame my genes

I had a babes lunch today and I brought mommy dearest along. At some point in the lunch, there was a bad mommy story share and mommy dearest said that once grandma had gotten so angry at her that she threw a knife at her. Wow. And I thought I was the only one who wanted to do that!

Later in the day we had picked up grandma and brought her back to the house. Mommy dearest asked grandma if she remembered that knife throwing incident and grandma said "I threw a knife at you? And missed? There must have been something wrong with me.... (pause to think about it) .... if I missed."

after school snacking

Matt climbed into the car at pick-up today and said "Mom, I'm starved. That sandwich you packed me for lunch was too greasy and I couldn't eat it. Can we go to Burger King?"

...............

uh...........

...............

and I took him there.

you can call me al

Josh and I went to have breakfast with grandma at the OFH today. Josh just loves their pancakes which are like a cross between a typical pancake and a crepe. The three of us were having a nice leisurely meal, sitting quietly at our table, enjoying normal decibel level conversation (go hearing aids!). I was looking around the dining room at all the residents there when I began wondering what my friends and I would look like 40 years from now. Would we have that funky curlers under the dryer/aquanet hair style favored by grandma's generation? Would we, current triathletes, be pushing around walkers with our air canisters? How are the faces of the botox generation going to age? Will we even have wrinkles one day? Or is science going to find a way around that?

Suddenly from behind me, I hear the adorable little old lady I spotted when we sat down clear her throat, (I imagine her leaning towards the goofy looking old man with the fat short ties) and announce to her table mates "You can call me many things, but you may not call me a HO". Then she had to explain to her friends what a ho is. I laughed to myself and hoped that when I am a little old lady I'm still reading the newspaper too.

sleep dancing

The reality of my life is that I am one of those people who really does enjoy going to the gym. I love it. I love listening to music, working up a sweat, stretching, and even lifting the weights. I find the whole process from start to finish completely enjoyable and the after effects even more pleasurable. There is some thing I would like to do at the gym every day of the week, but mostly I don't get to go as often as I would like. Last week I managed to squeeze in a lot of gym. On Wednesday I did a spin class, lifted weights and then went back later for a good pilates stretch. On Thursday I ran at the track. On Friday I did a killer spin class with the one spin teacher who does about 85% of the class standing on the pedals while climbing hills and "running" to boot. Saturday I did Bubbles' 7am spin class and more weights. You can imagine that Saturday night I was in less than fine shape. I was beat. Exhausted is more accurate. By 9:30 I declared my intentions to go to sleep to the family, slid into position under the covers and instantly drifted off into a deep solid slumber. Then Evan decided that he needed me to accompany him to bed. He came into my room, and shook me. I recall my eyes rolling forward, barely focusing on his face, and then my eyes rolling back into my head. He waited and repeated the incredibly annoying shaking procedure 2 more times. On the third shake I mumbled something that even in my semi-consciousness I recognized as incoherent, rolled away from Evan and resumed slumber. Evan figured I was as useless as I appeared and called upon his father to perform the nightly ritual tuck-in.

The next day we were sitting around the dinner table when Evan looked at me and said "Your legs were having violent spasms last night" then he did an imitation of a spasming me which very much resembled the devil dog "running" in her sleep minus the little yipping sounds that I find so completely endearing. It with was an odd combination of embarrassment (I sleep like a dog) and pride (I have the answer to that!) that I then asked him "Do you know what that is?" I took a deep smug knowledgeable breath, assumed the stance of a learned professor and prepared to illustrate just how our nervous system sends out electrical impulses while we sleep when Evan interrupted me with a wave of his hand and answered "Yeah, I know, you were doing the worm."

growing

When our neighbor had a baby almost 6 years ago they namend him Matthew. Since we already had one ourselves, we referred to this new Matthew on the block as "Little Matt'. Little Matt is Josh's age and ended up in his preschool class. The kids became friends. Little Matt never really got why my family has our own name for him. In reality he only answers to the more formal "Matthew". Of course, Little Matt is not a baby anymore either. According to Josh Little Matt, noting his current less than small stature, recently confided that he now "prefers to be called "Medium Matt".

this is me

Matt doesn't always seem like he has Asperger's. But then sometimes he does. In an attempt to thwart off any maniacal gunmen who might want to shoot up the children of our town, our local board of ed put locks and buzzers on all the school doors. (Because you and I both know that this is a fool proof way to keep our children out of harm's way, don't we? I mean, if I were a homicidal gun toting sicko on a death mission a buzzer would stop me cold.) Matt used to just march right in to school each morning, but now he has to ring a bell, announce himself to the office and wait for them to buzz the door open. Matt finds this maddeningly annoying. Recently he told me that when he rings the bell he merely says "Let me in" I suggested he say something friendlier, but he insisted that this works for him and that the ladies in the office already know it is him anyway. I let him slide on this because I want the ladies in the office to know that this new and utterly uselss system is troublesome for my kid. I figure I might be able to use the buzzer and Matt's hostile response to it later on.

On the other hand, when it comes to being with friends and family Matt seems so confident and at ease. Sometimes I look at him laughing with his buddy or trying to convince his cousin she should let him pick him up, and I think it just doesn't look like he has a problem! He is such a good study that I forget that what the rest of us do naturally he has to learn how to do. Tonight he forgot to bring home his vocabulary words to study for a test tomorrow. He really wanted to do well on that test and was upset, so I suggested he call someone from the class and find out what the vocabulary words are. Matt thought of the guy he'd feel comfortable calling, picked up the phone, prepared to dial, and asked "Wait. Do I say 'Who is this?' or "This is me' first?".

the darndest things

It always amazes me when the kids come out with something very adult or wordly. They know so much. Usually I am most shocked when (still a baby in my eyes) Josh does it, but his brothers always seem to know what animated yet inappropriate television show he watched with them and managed to somehow memorize (or at least memorize all the parts I would hope he might not pick up on).

This afternoon I sat down to watch television with the boys. A commercial for this scary looking movie came on and said to the boys "I'd like to know what is going on it that neighbor's house" and pointed to the house of the creepy rarely ever seen, block out shades drawn on every window every minute of every day and no one is ever outside doing anything in front of that house.

And Evan goes "What Mom, like she has a meth lab in the basement or something?"

my niece counted in spanish for me

This is how it went:

uno
dos
flace
waffle
cinco
sleis

I love her.

water logged phone pole legs

What a day. Evan came into my room this morning just as I was managing to wake up all the while wondering wether or not my normal legs had been replaced with water logged telephone poles that were sinking deep into the bed. He slipped into the husband's recently vacated spot and I turned to say good morning to him. I said "Good morning Brown" (which I call him since he is my only brown eyed boy) and had the sudden vision of a young man Evan trying to pick up women by saying "What can Brown do for you?" I thought I was hilarious, Evan didn't.

I dropped Evan and Matt of at school, picked up some cleaning supplies, and headed over to the Old Folks Home (from now on referred to as The OFH) to see grandma. The great news was that not only was she out of bed and dressed, she even had makeup on, and lip stick too! Josh and I brought her down to breakfast. She seemed great! Then we went back up to her apartment to do some unpacking. I tried to degrease her little microwave, but seeing me cleaning upset her ... a lot. So I switched to unpacking. Seeing photos of my grandpa who died in 1969 made her cry. She said she was mad at him for leaving her. I said he had couldn't help it, he died. I swirtched to a different box. This unpacking continued to upset her for a bit, until Josh got interested in unrolling the 1/2 ton of paper the movers used to protect grandma's long life time of bric a brac. It was fun for Josh to find the little ceramic duckies and unicorns hiding in all the shredded dead trees. I made grandma in charge of paper collection, so we all had a job and I managed to clear out about 5 more boxes. Then I dropped Josh off at school.

It was off to the track then. Remember that lofty 5K goal I made for next May? And how I was going to not only be able to run 5K in May, but do it for an actual 5K race? I've been less and less sure I could do it, but I managed to find my groove, and today I did 12 laps (3 miles, or approx 5K) and actually ran 5 of them, which means I ran 1 1/4 miles! There is a first for me! At some point I am pretty sure I channelled the awkward run of the awkward runner I see around town. I may have run awkward but hey, I was running.

Then it was off to Starbucks to main line some latte, and over to the Middle School up Matt. I hung at home with Matt for a few minutes, and then I drove over to Josh's school where I got to sit in the truck for 1/2 hour just so I could get a good parking space and be able to leave fast to pick up Ev. So as not to waste my precious time, I initiated project PSA for Public Bathroom Use. So far so good, it got a chuckle out of Evan so if you like potty humor, stay tuned.

I then brought Evan and Josh back to The OFH, unpacked two more boxes, which Evan enjoyed tremendously. He liked taking charge of Josh and letting Josh know that Evan had all the answers to all of grandma's curious stuff. I stifled a laugh when I overheard Evan telling Josh that something he had unwrapped was "decreational" because all I could imagine it being was a very pretty bong. Then I gathered the boys and grandma, and headed off to Target. You see, when I signed all 900 pages of The OFH contract, I noticed there was a clause in there which mentioned that all electricity using devices must have UL tags on the cords and meet current safety standards. Ahhhh, let's just say that grandma needs new lamps. Honestly, I don't think I'd plug her lamps into my home, just saying. Grandma said she wouldn't mind burning to death, but I said we had to think of the neighbors.

Since Target is such a huge place, I cleverly called ahead and asked if they had a wheelchair I could use for grandma. They said they did, but upon arrival I was pointed toward an electric chair scooter with a big basket on it. Hahaha! Joking right? Nope. Grandma climbed in and she was off. She was like a little kid zipping around with a big smile plastered on her face. Several times she tried to let the boys have her seat and I had to forbid that. Grandma settled on letting them depress the forward button, so grandma zoomed down the aisles steering with the two boys jogging by her side, pressing the go forward lever. Every motherly bone in my body wanted to yell "Hands off the cart!!" at them, but grandma was so darned happy with the whole set up that I couldn't bring myself to do it. I simply stayed 10 steps ahead of them clearing the aisles and warning the other shoppers.

We brought grandma back to the house for dinner, which I picked up on the way home (Japanese tonight, as opposed to diner food last night and Chinese the night before. I wonder of they miss me at Whole Foods) I tried my "What can Brown do for you?" line from this morning out on Matt, who thought it made as much sense as some scenario where Matt whispers "Where the pets go" or "America runs on Matthew" so I am seeing that no one else gets my humor here. I returned Grandma to The OFH around 7:30. I'm pretty sure she was happy and content. She told me how much she enjoyed the boys and how good it is to know she will be seeing them all the time. I told her, that now I could say "See you tomorrow" instead of "I'll try to come back soon" and I'm sure that deep down inside she knows that even though she has to adopt to this new surroundings, it'll be a happier life for her from now on. The proof is below.

Josh: educated consumer

I would totally pay extra for dvd's that have no previews on them. And truthfully, if you want to know, I find the previews so incredibly annoying and frustrating (especially now that they have altered the dvd so that you can not simply skip the previews) that I would pay a lot extra to have my dvds preview free, even when renting. That being said, the kids have once again misplaced the television remote. I do not understand how the children do this ALL THE TIME since there is one television and one remote and there is no purpose for the remote to be in any other room than the room with the television, but I guess the kids just like the remote so much that they want it near them at all times, until they completely forget about it in some other room, and then have no idea where it could have possibly ended up, because they would never commit such a heinous crime as to leave the remote all over the house and I must be imagining things. That and my cleaning people came yesterday and you might think they didn't actually live on this planet since they do tend to do things like put the already misplaced remote into the bowl of fruit on the kitchen island or even into some bag of random misplaced items they gather together and hide from me all in the name of fun.

SInce we don't have the remote for the time being, and the television is already programmed in the single digits Josh doesn't have the patience to get to the kids channels, which are in the 300 range, manually, which is fine by me. The less cartoon I am subjected to the happier I am. Josh and I had a great time practicing some letter writing this morning, during which he gave me the ultimate thrill of remarking how much more fun it is to do it with me than his teacher. Not that I am competitive or insecure or anything...... Afterwards, while I prepared his lunch he popped in an old video and commenced listening to the particularly annoying commercials that came along with the previews. On this patronizing kids video was a male voice-over declaring with utmost confidence things like "Sure to be on every one's gift list!" and "Who wouldn't want one?" and stuff like that. I had another proud and shining moment when Josh, who doesn't normally talk back to the television, like his passionate about things mother does, answered out loud with answers like "Not me" "I wouldn't be interested" and my all time favorite, with all the attitude his sweetness would allow, "I don't think so." I am so proud to be raising another commercial conscious consumer. Really, I spend a freaky amount of time pointing out to them how often commercials say nothing relevant and try to sell them on some cool image the sellers pretend the product will bestow upon them.

typo of the week: Flaming Yon

Evan's language Arts teacher gave him the most boring writing assignment. The kids had to write about their vacations. Excuse me while I exaggerate a yawn here.

Evan chose to write about the day we went to see Wicked on Broadway. In his essay he raved about the Brazilian restaurant we went to first and mentioned the "flaming yon" as his favorite part. "Yon?" I asked, "What is YON?" Evan gave me the look that says "Hello? You were there too, you idiot." and I told him that I had never heard of Yon before and didn't recall anything flaming. "It's the really good steak, Mom" he said as if I had fallen off the turnip truck just yesterday. "Oh!" I exclaimed "Filet Mignon!"

The Anatomy of the Week by Matt

Last week I noticed that it was getting mighty tough for Matt to get himself out of the car and into the school. I told him that I would consider giving him a mental health day this week. He went off to school, and when he got out a few measily hours later, he told me that he had decided that Tuesday was the ultimate day to take off for a mental health day. Then he told me the reasoning behind his decision. Tuesday is the best day to take off because Thursday sucks. I asked him to send it to me in an email so that I could share with you dear readers, why Tuesday is THE day to cut school for mental health:

ANATOMY OF A TYPICAL WEEK
Monday:

Monday is your "starting day." it goes gentler than most days but that does not compensate for the fact that you still have a weekend mindset.

Tuesday:

Tuesday is probably the best day of the week because even though YOU are out of the weekend mindset, the SCHOOL isn't and it is still a soft day.

Wednesday:

Wednesday is my personal favorite day of the week. The school day goes at an average pace, but I am bolstered by the fact that after school I get new comics (because it's new comic wednesday!)

Thursday:

Sucks... Even though you should be getting weekend tomorrow, you have to sit thru another day (Friday).

Friday:

You aren't paying attention at all. Sleepwalking, per se.

NOW, ANATOMY MINUS TUESDAY.

Monday:

unchanged

Tuesday:

You get the day off without entering the weekend mindset. A very happy occassion

Wednesday:

the monday effect is cancelled out by the comic effect

Thursday:

The new Tuesday

Friday:

"neutral"

does what ever a spider can

In the car this morning taking every one to school, Matt began to speak rather openly about being on the Autism spectrum. Evan asked if that meant that Matt had learning prob