clickmom

suck like the wind

We ate out for lunch today. Evan ordered spaghetti, and had tons of fun slurping up a single noodle at a time. He was going for speed, and because of his ability those noodles would whip around hitting all over his face when they got to be about 4 or 5 inches long. He had sauce from his neck to his eyebrows. I watched in silence. One day this boy could be a father. I tried to picture it.

Once Evan felt confident in his speed pasta slurping abilities he declared “Hey I am a really good SUCKER.” Matt grinned, “Yes, Evan, you are a real good sucker.” he replied in true big brother form. Then he elaborated “You are a sucking marvel.” I giggled silently to myself. “Suck like the wind.” I begin shaking. “No one sucks better than you.” I begin to laugh out loud and “You were born to suck.” I couldn’t stop laughing, luckily Evan wasn’t taking offense, he just wasn’t sure what Matt was saying. We explained the giggling to Evan by telling him that Matt’s compliments could be taken two ways. Then we sent him to the bathroom to wash his face.

island girl

We are coming to the end of a week on OUR ISLAND. A week which was supposed to have been full of out door adventures, exploring, climbing, fresh air, and discovering the landscape and not a week of hiding from the cold and biting rain, dashing to the car, and discovering the best store in every strip mall with in 20 minutes of our island.

I now know where to buy what ever it is we need, from teflon tape to dog collars to tofutti cuties, and have already eaten in most of the local restaurants. And I am already getting familiar with the locals, the guy in the hardware store knows me.

Oh wait, I forgot, so does the boiler guy, the rooter guy, and the septic tank cleaning guy. The boiler guy was very polite when he said that Mr. W, who we purchased the house from, had the “Don’t fix it less it’s broke, and don’t replace it unless it can’t be fixed.” philosophy. He said this while cleaning the soot out of the 75 year old heater which happens to be the size of a really nice walk in closet, it’s the same boiler that he serviced for a leak a week before Mr. W moved out, when Mr. W declined the much needed cleaning. The septic guy was being a bit more realistic this morning as he dug up the lid for and pumped clean our waste system, when he said that Mr. W. was a “cheap bastard who didn’t want to pay for anything.” Unfortunately we have been finding out the hard way. So we decided to go with a new rooter guy, who didn’t know Mr. W.

Probably the most disturbing thing that happened this week was when the unflushable toilet began to leak through the bottom, (maybe it needs to be reseated?) and the toilet water ended up going through the light fixture below and dripping into the kitchen sink. At my full time home the kitchen sink is directly below the tub. That seems much less gross. No wait, the grossest thing was definitely when the tub beside the unflushable toilet began to fill with sewage while the boys were washing up before bed. I am so hoping it was ours. It was hard to identify.

But there were good things about this week too, even though they mostly occurred in doors. The house has a dumb waiter, so that they chef in the dungeon, errr..kitchen, can send food up to the anxiously awaiting kids, up stairs in the much nicer family room. My kids loved the dumb waiter, and renamed it the food-evator, and actually came down to the dung-kitchen to help out so that they could be the one who pulled the ropes of the dumb waiter to raise the meal. We discovered how fun the game Cadoo is, and also Mad Libs. In between the rain showers, the kids did keep running out to the boulder at the tip of the island, and had fun climbing, scaling, and playing on it. We also discovered that there are already hooks in some trees where hammocks must have been once and where they will be again as soon as we get some. Evan and I also managed to have a blast playing on the “tennis court” during another cloud break, with some giant rackets, a bunch of balls, Josh and Sunny.

he wants a sister

Last week I sat down with Evan to find out what I could get him for his birthday. Evan has never been much of a toy guy, and is not materialistic at all. I tried being subtle, but that didn't work. When I came right out and asked, he got upset! I said "Evan, whatever it is you want you can ask for." He teared up and gave me the really sad look, and made me promise that I would not get upset with him. I said I wouldn't and reminded him that he could always tell his mother anything no matter what. Then he asked me to promise not to laugh at him. I promised. Then he made me promise that I wouldn't even smile at him. I promised. Then he took a deep breath looked straight ahead and summoned all his courage, explained that he wasn't much into toys and said "Mom, what I really want for my birthday is a little sister." Then he looked at me and exclaimed "Hey, you said you wouldn't smile!" Isn't he the sweetest?

getting the shot

I have been feeling so American, as I photograph game after game of baseball. What a freaking boring game to watch!! Man, give me a nice action packed lacrosse game any day over the agonizing pace of baseball. And in baseball, I never know where to look! If I am focused on the batter, don’t you know the guy on first gets caught trying to steal second. In the other sports it is much easier, I just try to shoot the guy with the ball. Baseball is happening all over. I am pretty sure that other photographers go there and decide before hand the one plate or position they are going to follow. It could drive me insane, especially since I am out right ignorant of the game and all the strategies, and am really only capable of shooting the guy with the ball. My Canon 10D, which I LOVE. Is 1 1/2 years old, which pretty much makes it a dinosaur into he digi camera world. I secretly lust after the newer versions with their super fast shutters that sound like old movie cameras spinning on and on, or the (gulp) 16 mega pixel version that I can shoot poster size landscapes with, but I LOVE my baby, the camera that brought me into the light and introduced me to the filmless world of I have a 1 gigabyte memory card and never run out of film, digital ecstasy. The world of, I can crop it at home and e-mail it into the office. I am so never going back.

Anyway, even with out the super fast camera body I have been successful at catching the ball. Check it out.

why I am not a cat person

Yesterday I dropped Matt off at a friends house and happened to see a note the friends mom left for her house keeper. It read "Dear Sondra, Please change the sheets on my bed. I think the cat may have peed on them , they smell like cat pee." Dogs yes, cats no. Case closed.

sugar detox-over 3 weeks

At over three weeks sugar free, I feel like I should be coasting right now, but I am not and I suspect that it is due to my over indulgence in the fruit area, and my neglect in the vegetable area. I live in fear of becoming constipated, like I tend to do when I give up wheat. It was so bad last winter that I ended up with a fissure, and narrowly escaped surgery by adding the wheat back into my diet and not having a solid poop for months and months. (Sorry, I normally try to avoid poop talk) I have been eating lots of fruit and even prunes and know that there is too much natural sugar in them. I also need to spend more time out of the house, where I can’t just grab food. Oh yeah, I also need to exercise and get some endorphins into the old system. Oh yeah, if I could wake up tomorrow and be thin, that would really help keep me motivated, Oh yeah, if my gray hairs would reverse themselves, that would help too.

I just reread the first entry I wrote about sugar addiction, and realize that it may be a good thing for me to attend the F.A.A. group. (Food Addicts Anonymous- a 12 step program for food addiction) I think it would help to hear the stories and desperation, and help remind me where I came from and where I want to go. Hearing the commonality in all of our struggles really helps humble me and also remind me what I don’t want to feel again. It is so funny, when I am using, I know so bad how I want to feel clean, and now that I am clean, I feel unfulfilled. Perhaps it is a bigger issue? Oh no, not therapy again. I can’t commit to therapy again. Maybe I’ll ask my friend, the ex-therapist (now a full time mom) for some advice. She might enjoy the challenge that I am.

Too much to think about.

I rooted for the green knight

Last night, I came to the realization that not only am a Princess, but also maybe a little ...snobby? classist? elitist??. Something like that. We, after a trying week of educational disaster, had the bright of idea of surprising our kids with a trip to Medieval Times. It is a theme restaurant where people sit around and arena and watch “knights” battle it out on horses. There is a whole story line, but believe me, if you don’t know it, you don’t need it.

My snobbish awareness began at 2:53 when we got on line out side the restaurant. The wench on the phone told my husband we needed to arrive by 3 pm for the 4:30 pm seating. He did not question her. As I glanced around at my line mates, I could only think of Jeff Foxworthy. You know you’re a redneck if...if...if.....if you are on this line! OMIGOSH look at these people!!!!

The hair, the clothes, the mustaches.... on the women! The mustaches on the men! Within 4 feet of me was a big walrus mustache, a manicured one complete with stripes down the sides of the mouth, and a handle bar! (OK, I lied about the handle bar, but things always work so much better in threes) And the guy behind me, who had no mustache had 6 teeth on his entire upper jaw, and they were brown. He needed a mustache to grow right over his lip and disguise his lack of dental hygiene. We had pleather jackets, plaid shirts, and bad hygiene galore!

For the women “Candies” shoes seem to back in style, along with permed and teased hair ala David Lee Roth in the 80’s. Apparently women with mustaches don't need eyebrows anymore as long as they have eyebrow pencils. I suppose that comes in handy when you save the beer money for botox and then you can draw in the expression of the day each morning, when you decide which halter top to wear with your tight studded slitted up the back of your calf jeans and spike heels.

I felt like an outsider and spent the entire wait wondering if the folks I was about to dine with were technically rednecks, or if there was a more appropriate colloquially, maybe trailer trash? We are not geographically located in red neck territory. You know you’re trailer trash if......YOU GO TO MEDIEVAL TIMES AND IT IS NOT FOR THE ENJOYMENT OF YOUR CHILDREN. Then we were allowed inside. Boy, there were adults just getting a little bit too into it for me. I suppose I could have been drinking excessively like the rest of the lords and ladies, and then I could have gotten a better feel for the place, but the truth is, I was way to weirded out.

I guess I just don’t like to root for victors in a choreographed battle. You know what else I don’t like? Being called “Mi Lady”. It is just a little too over the top for me. First the sales girl called me “Mi Lady” TWICE while I purchased over priced glow in the dark necklaces for the kids, you know, just like the ones they wore way back when. Then she said it again while I purchased a glowing spinning globe on a stick, you know, just like the kids played with way back when, whose major redeeming quality is it’s blissful silence, because I was afraid it was gonna make some freaky kind of noise. After we finally got into the arena, I asked our serving wench to stop calling me “Mi Lady” during the “banquet”, and she was speechless. She sputtered a bit and then I thought she got a bit teary as she explained it would help me get into the mood. I said “Wench, I am not going to get into the mood.” No I didn’t, being the coward that I am, I just plead with puppy dog eyes, and it worked. Thank goodness for the little things.

The kids loved the show, I pretended the whole place didn’t reek of horse pee. They enjoyed smoothies in flashing colored light glasses for $11. You know, just like the ones they used way back when. Which I thought was an interesting choice of bar ware since they had no utensils to eat with, but hey, who am I to talk? I wasn’t even in the mood.

Matt and Evan thought it was the best surprise ever, and I hope they remember it for a long time, at least long enough until Matt has a drivers license and can drive them back while Husband and I dine at home breathing easy and eating with utensils.

my island paradise

I have to admit it. I am a princess.

My husband makes all the money we need and I get to do what I want.

Now that that is off my chest, I have to say, I am so excited because we bought a vacation home!!!! We actually bought it last fall, but let the owners rent it back from us while they looked for a new home. AND THEY ARE FINALLY OUT! WHOOO HOOO! I feel like it is finally mine, all mine, hehehe. The best part is that it is near my sister and we will get to hang out this summer.

But this house, I love it!! It was built around 1890, and has the most fabulous vibe. I walk into this house and can feel a century worth of cocktail parties. The stories I have heard about it so far are that it belonged to a family, then it was a club for the lake residents, then a kind of playboy mansion (it is not a mansion) before becoming a family residence again. And the house is on a lake. OK, it is even better, it is on a small island in a huge lake. So now we actually own an island. The first owners took a barge back and forth, but in the 1940’s a causeway was built, so we can just drive off the main road onto the island.

We were there today, and we ripped up all this hideous 1970’s carpet to discover the gorgeous wood floors underneath. Thank you previous owners for being so tacky that you preserved the floors for me!! We need to finish cleaning up the floors, slap on some fresh paint and we will be ready to go!! I am hoping that every one I know will come and visit this summer, and we can have all sorts of fun playing on the island, barbecuing, swimming in the lake, refreshing at the wet bar in the den.

Excuse me while I day dream a bit here....

I saw the principal today

I saw the principal today, but only because I stopped in to chat with the art teacher. (I love her and art rocks) He mentioned that he had been in Evan's class during a science lesson, and that Evan knew all the answers and more. He was very impressed with Evan.

Fast forward to this evening..."Evan I spoke to Mr. P. today."

Slow turn of the head, extra big eyes, and look of total shock.

"I"m in trouble?"

Hmmmmmmm.....

entering a combination zone

I am PMSing and this is the first one since cleaning up my diet. I am already feeling that antsy kind of desire to stuff my face all day long. I feel cranky (is that surprising to anyone?), edgy, restless, and like noshing all day long. Yes, I want to sedate myself with a good binge. BUT I WON"T, instead I'll hug my nice warm lap top and describe each painful detail to those of you in cyberspace.

Last night the kids had smores for desert after dinner, and they had so much fun with them. Chins dripping with chocolate and marshmallow, and I watched. Noone noticed my abstinence but me. It wasn't even that bad not eating the stuff, but I really wanted the effects of eating the stuff. And that is why food is actually more like a drug to me than the stuff that just keeps me alive.

OK, I am having second thoughts about saying that it was not about eating. When I eat it is almost a sexual event. I can suck bags of m&m's for hours. Playing with them with my tongue and letting just enough air into my mouth to slow down the melting process a bit, and savoring every molecule of shell and chocolate.

And that is what I could spend the afternoon doing today. But I won't because my health and my life have to be my priority now, and I would be giving up both for what? m&ms? Not any more. So, no matter what food I think will make me feel better, I will not falter because at the end of this madness will be a me who can enjoy living with out her drug of choice, sugar laden food.