clickmom

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.

I'm too dumb to keep my mouth shut, too dumb to keep my mouth shut, too dumb

In the morning I gather up the kids, get them all in the truck and commence, what is fondly known as (cue maniacal laughter) the drop off. First I drop off Evan at his school. Usually I breath a deep sigh of relief when he finally exits the vehicle since the few minutes from our driveway to his school are typically spent listening to Evan complain about something or someone. Sometimes I wonder if I removed everything he complained about if he would ever run out of topics to be dissatisfied with or if he would just be left standing in a big void of nothingness. I suspect the answer to that question is the void, but I am trying not to dwell on it.

I am left with Matt and Josh and I head to Matt's school. We usually arrive about 4 or 5 minutes before the last possible second Matt could walk through the doors and still be on time so I typically turn off the engine (No more idling for me, have you seen Inconvenient Truth?!?!) and chat with Matt until he goes in. Matt doesn't start his day with the first period, he begins with the second so when we are sitting outside the school it is all quiet except for the other late for school stragglers and a few mothers running in with forgotten homework assignments or lunches.

This morning we watched a woman running in with two identical lunch boxes. She had an urgent look on her face, and trotted down the sidewalk with a real sense of purpose. Matt took one look at the lady and began singing the opening beat of Eye Of The Tiger. It was a perfect match, we laughed over it. Then a boy got dropped off and shuffled towards the door, jacketless in the cold winter air, head down and pretty dejected looking. Matt said "Wait, I can do this one too!" and began singing Mr. Lonely. (Do not ask me how Matt knows all the words to Mr. Lonely, I am as shocked as anyone else) Matt sang it until the second the door slammed on the boy's back. It was another perfect delivery and we laughed some more.

Then a third car pulled up and a bleached blonde Stepford wife stepped out. She had on her tres chic over sized sun glasses and her skinny jeans. I yelled "I have this one!" As the S.W. swaggered past our truck, carrying a brown bagged lunch towards the school. I sang "I'm too sexy for this lunch, too sexy for this lunch, too sexy...." trying all the while to sound as deep and gravelly as the original version. Once the door closed on this woman I turned to Matt with a big "I can do it too!" grin on my face, only to see his shocked expression, mouth hanging open and headed shaking side to side in shock. Shame ran over me like a tidal wave when I realized that Matt didn't look at 40 something year old women and ever think anything about "sexy". Then it was time for Matt to go in, except today it was more of an "escape from the weirdness which is my mother" and he exited the vehicle. Next time, I'm not participating, I'll just sit back and laugh at his more *ahem* tasteful song choices.

thinking out loud

There is something about the way Josh talks that just makes me (and other mothers too) just want to squeeze his cheeks. He always has a sing song happiness to his tone, and even the way he chooses to phrase his words is just sweeter than honey. If I am out and I call home and Josh answers the phone, I could just dissolve into water hearing his voice. I have to make a conscious effort to listen to what he is saying while fighting the urge to talk pooky mooky baby talk to him. He is that cute.

So when Josh says something adult, uses a phrase which is beyond his years, or even attempts to use some one else's deeper voice, I typically turn to Matt who can tell me which tv show Josh picked it up from. Josh remembers everything he hears on tv. The funniest thing is that he uses all this television inspired dialogue to talk himself through what ever happens to be difficult for him. Sometimes, I'll hear him saying things like "That's it, just a little bit longer...." , "You can do it, we have faith in you..." or my personal favorite "Just use the force." depending on what task he needs encouragement with. It makes him all the more adorable if you ask me.

This morning I had to dash out of the house to pick up Evan after getting a call from the school nurse. It wasn't serious, Evan had a stomach ache, but once I committed myself to retrieving Evan, I felt that I had to do it quickly. Despite my having parked the truck the other way around from the usual way I park it, and also despite that I made it a point to tell Josh I was parking the other way around so that he could get out on the not so icy side of the driveway when we pulled in from dropping his brothers off at school a mere hour earlier, Josh went his usual way (the now ice covered way) and naturally wiped out on the driveway. His palms were scraped and black, his knees were scraped up too. He was crying a most soft and pathetic kind of injured baby bird cry. My heart was in throat. I got him into the truck, belted him in, and half way calmed down before jumping into the driver's seat and heading out to pick up Evan. During our three minute drive to Evan's school Josh's soft post crying noises began to subside. Then he was silent. I looked into the rear view mirror to see if maybe he was holding his breath only to see him, head back, eyes closed with an expression of deep concentration on his face. Just when I was about to ask him if he was o.k. he said to himself, in a very robotic and power ranger kind of way MUST-RELIEVE-PAIN.

blood lines

During the preholiday catalog rush of 2006, the husband spotted and purchased this It was a total hit with the kids. They really look forward to it and we have had some great conversations which grew out of the cards. Sometimes we go off on tangents and have conversations I never would have thought of. Somenights the cards are less exciting, and we can answer the questions easily and without much thought. Tonight's question was "what's your favorite story about an ancestor" (They don't believe in capitals or question marks)

I tilted my head, and thought about the story of my teenaged grandfather spotting my teenaged grandmother walking down the street for the very first time one afternoon and declaring "That's the girl I am going to marry!"

Josh didn't have to think about his favorite ancestor story, he knew right away which story is his favorite, half way through my hazy soft focus imagined grand parental meeting back in 1927 Brooklyn, Josh shouts out "I know my favorite story! It's Noah!"

right back at ya baby

Josh is the ultimate optimist. He is always happy. To say he sees the glass half full is an understatement, he sees the fabulous drink inside and can't wait for a taste. Josh wakes up with a smile on his face, and stays that way all day long. He is really a pleasure to be around.

The other day we were chatting and I noticed that when he said the word "family" he said it as if "family" was winning the lottery, a dream come true, water in the dessert, the best thing ever. The way he said "family" warmed my heart so much that I made him to promise to marry a woman only if she was as happy as he is. I hope he remembers about that.

Today I gave Josh some much needed playground time after school. At 4:15 when the mothers couldn't take the chill anymore Josh asked to go home with a friend. The friend''s mother said "Yes" and I told Josh he could go if he told me something sweet. I bent over, half expecting him to say "chocolate milk" or something like that in my ear but instead he whispered "I'll love you until the end of time."

Matt vs power reading teacher: round 2

Matt, in another fit of brilliance, had yet another one of his ideas rejected by his power reading teacher. In all fairness to Matt, when he told me last year that this teacher had it out for him, I asked another neighborhood kid what she thought of the teacher and the kid replied "She hates everyone." It is for this reason Matt knows I will be understanding should he exhibit any less than stellar attitude while in her class, since in the world of teacher versus my kid, I found it works out best to almost always side with my kid. That is when it comes to Matt, who is usually a complete law abiding boy scout and only has trouble with teachers who try to be the bad ass. Should Evan ever come home with any of Matt's stories I am fully prepared to be called in to the principal's office.

That being said, Matt told me today that another one of his ideas had been rejected by the power reading teacher. The task was to come up with a story that would be appropriate for a first or second grade student to read. What this teacher has neglected to understand is that Matt along with many of his classmates spent their early childhood years reading and being inspired by books by Dav Pilkey. After the initial idea rejection, a somewhat defeated Matt approached the paper cabinet to retrieve a fresh piece of paper. The teacher called to him, reprimanding him about going into her personal closet. Matt then engaged in an argument with the teacher over wether or not a cabinet full of school issued paper would be considered personal. The teacher compared Matt's actions to herself going into his bedroom and searching through his drawers. Matt found himself absolutely perplexed by this nonsensical comparison since searching through the cranky teacher's bedroom drawers is just about the last thing he would ever do as well as her bedroom being the last place on earth he could ever imagine finding himself. This teacher is sure to give Matt a glowing report card comment.

In the mean time, Matt's idea sounded hilarious to me. It went like this: There are three characters. They are Donut Lad, the heir to Donut Lad's Donut Stores, Squeakums, the rugged yet adorable chipmunk vigilante, and FooFoo, who is Squeakums strange half brother. In Matt's story Donut Lad is sneaking poison into his donuts that takes away people's free will and makes them need to buy more of his donuts. (I think Matt may have gotten this fictionalized version confused with the actual Starbucks Frappacinos) Squeakums and FooFoo stop Donut Lad and save the day.

Matt's teacher said "No killing, no poisons, no stabbing." Matt tried to change the terminology from "poisons" to "magic sprinkles", but she wouldn't hear of it. He had to come up another idea which he describes as utterly boring. With my urging Matt is going to write/draw up his original idea and we are going to find a teacher to let him read his story to her class. We might tape it and if the kids have a good reaction, we'll show it to Matt's cranky teacher. Cause we are like that. Then we will submit Matt's story for publication, and next year when Matt makes his first million, and he is being interviewed on David Letterman, Matt will be sure to mention how he never let his power reading teacher curb his creativity. Cause, really, we are like that.

PS Matt did get an A+ on that Mr. T assignment

room remodeling, Jackie and balls

In the past two days, all within the freshly painted stench of Josh's 1/2 way painted room, I have changed a light bulb 4 times, thrown one newly broken lamp into the trash, and treated one top of the foot 1st degree light bulb burn. Currently there are 6 paint bottomed socks our home, one navy blue paint stained pillow case, and don't ever think you'll see the shirt and sweats I have been wearing the past three days.

The kids have a serious block regarding the whole "Wipe the brush so it doesn't drip" method of painting I am trying to get them to employ. They are more of the drip all over everything including the finished walls method, which causes me agita. I think this will be more of a Mom effort and less of a group effort for how ever long it takes me to finish. I gave the navy another chance at coverage today, and it looks like I am going to have to get creative around the less than perfect coverage. I hope I am up to it.

As far as Jackie is concerned, she has me raising the white flag here. I give up, she can have whatever she wants if only she would just go away. She isn't going down easy, and her niggling pointy pain has me completely worn out. Seriously, every time anyone asks about her, I just cry from the utter frustration of it all. Mostly, I have been popping Advil (At least I am not double dosing the Alleve anymore) and trying to keep my focus on other things, just trying not to remind myself how tired I am from the not sleeping well and how irritable I become every time the last dose of painkiler starts to wear off. I am even starting to fall out of love with the herbal heating pad. I just want to not think about my jaw. I vaguely remember being blissfully oblivious about my jaw, and I liked it that way.

I took the kids into the city to see grandma today. Grandma wasn't doing well, so we spent a couple of hours in her apartment with her before we went down to the playground with out her for a quick run around before getting back into the car. As we walked into the playground Matt and I passed two young boys attempting to retrieve their ball from a mucky puddle of questionable origin. I leaned over and whispered to the boys that they should wash their hands. I walked on, but Matt didn't. He kept talking to the boys and when he caught up to me he said "I tried to be helpful, but not too helpful, since I didn't want those kids to run up to their mothers shouting "Mommy, some nice man helped us wash our balls!"

my kid didn't get the memo

In Matt's Power Reading class he was given an assignment to do a poster about a famous person. Matt, being the funny, imaginative, marching to the beat of his own drummer, and slightly edgy guy that he is, decided to make his little project more enjoyable by choosing Barney as his famous person. All was going along well until he tried to do a little internet research in the classroom and the Barney theme song blared out of his computer for his whole 8th grade class to hear. The honest to goodness celebrity choosing students (everyone besides my very own son) cracked up. After that the teacher established a "your famous person must be approved by the teacher" rule once she informed my beloved and the rest of the class that "The assignment is not to see how many of your friends you can make laugh."

Matt thought for a while and decided to go with this human famous personality.

singin' sweety and a visit to the twilight zone

So, it was Josh's holiday concert today and as expected he was totally adorable up there, singing all the words and doing all the cutesy hand motions that music teachers are so very fond of. Since it was kindergarten, it was short and sweet just the way I like my kids holiday concerts. As we prepared to exit the gym-atorium another mother came over to me, Matt and Evan to say hello. This other mommy, she likes to wear low cut shirts. Really low cut shirts. She chatted with me, I purposely (It wasn't easy) kept my eyes focused in her face area, she said "Hello" to my boys and remarked how surprised she is at just how grown up Matt has become. I said, "Yeah, the manly voice is hard to get used to" and then we all turned to leave. Walking out of the gym-atorium she leaned in real close to me and whispered in my ear "I know he is a man now because I saw him looking at my cleavage."

I was speechless.

I didn't know what to do.

Time stood still.

I thought a few things and I am honestly not sure whether or not they stayed in my head or actually left my lips. I was in shock, I was. I think those thoughts stayed inside.

So, tell me dear readers what would you do? Would you zing back with a snappy comeback? Maybe something like "Better your tits than that guys ass!" or even "And so was every one else! Could you cover those puppies up?" Or would you drag her behind the gym-atorium and work her over? Or would you, like me, go the shock/coward route, remain silent and merely slip out scratching your head and wondering just what had transpired in there?

I said nothing (I think) but I did run home and call the husband. Scatch scratch. Still trying to get on a grip on that conversation.