Amazing game!!

I bought this for the boys the other day and I have to say, it's just AMAZING! Now, of course, it doesn't hurt that my kids are totally obsessed with geography. TOTALLY obsessed with geography. It's freaky.

Anyway, it's just a great great computer game! Kids go around the world collecting clues to find world traveler Joe. It's like Where in the World is Carmen SanDiego, but better because there are educational videos, world maps, cultural studies, world music, *everything!*

Sincerely, this is up there with one of the best educational purchases I've made in the last year - and it was only $10 (for you locals, it's at Ann's Teacher Store.) Of course, prices will vary upon location.

To learn more, or to order if you're not in my area, Click Here

Thank you

To my girlfriend, my sister of the heart and soul, who sent me the following:

 

A zillion cd's specially selected with love

An amazing book that I cannot wait to read while soaking in the tub

A beautiful photograph with a message of love and encouragement

An inspirational card that shows that spider women spin more than just webs

An assortment of Bears that Care a bunch

Awesome Rockin' Lip Gloss that, yes, I'm going to apply right now.

 

Thank you.  Thank you.  I'm one lucky woman to have a friend like you.  I love you deeper than the sea.

And we have lost tooth #2!!

No, it's not Alice Cooper, it's Duck!

Bring on the Tooth Fairy

Duck, minus 1 tooth

Well, I've officially pulled my first tooth as a mother. Yep, good ol' Duck finally decided he was done with these two wiggly rocks in his mouth and, after B wimped out (should I get some pliers? What if there's an emergency? Our dentist doesn't work nights! Good lord!,) I finally pulled the thing.

Much screaming and jumping up and down and sincere celebration ensued.

And then Duck decided that he was gonna pull his other one on his own.
ummm yeah.

It took both me and B a good solid 10 minutes to convince him that it would be a good idea if he just waited until tomorrow to pull that other loose tooth.

After all, the Tooth Fairy has to hit the ATM.

Sheep in Wolves Clothing

There is a strange creature lurking in the world. I assure you, even if it hasn't invaded your home, there is one prowling in your neighborhood. Sly and mysterious, unpredictable and wild, cunning and manipulative, this beast strikes fear in the heart of all those whose who are even remotely intelligent and preys on those who are foolish enough to let their guards down for one small second. Oh yes, this wild thing is out there and it answers to the name of:

A six year old child.

Male or female, I've learned it makes no difference. A 6 year old is an entity all of their own. They defy definition and can make even the strongest adult drop to their knees and ask why oh why nearly 7 years ago they didn't just take a cold shower and go to sleep. Alone.

There are 2 of these things in my life that I see on a very regular basis: my own son, Duck, and Ta, the daughter of my best friend, JP. These two creatures are best friends - and mortal enemies. Well, to be honest, they're mostly friends and frankly, they are probably in love as I see them hugging each other and whispering, "I love you" into each others small ears. They do that, that is, in between moments of, "DUCK, you are NOT my friend anymore," and "Ta, if you don't leave me alone, I don't know what I'm gonna do!"

For the record, JP understands children a little bit more than I do - she has a masters degree in early education and she works as a teacher. She knows all there is to know about childhood development and I'm so grateful. There are times that I swear she was put on this planet to remind me that these little people that we intentionally brought into this world a few years ago really were not born with triple 6's on the back of their necks and they honestly are not out to suck every bit of our intellect and rationale out of our bodies.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. Frankly, I think it might take a village to keep mothers from going apeshit every 12 seconds for 18 years of her life. It's not that these 6 year olds are bad - they aren't! But they are confusing.

B and I took the boys down to my friend's house yesterday so B could work on a project with J, the husband of my best friend. As our men installed a dropped ceiling in the basement, JP and I sat out on the glider in the backyard and drank margaritas while all 5 of our combined children played in the pool. At one point, Ta got pissed off and grabbed her little sister and made some sort of sound that can only be described as half wolf, half garbage disposal. It took my breath away and I looked at JP with eyes as big as moon pies - and then the biggest smile spread across my face and I laughed out loud.

"Holy Shit, JP, Duck does that, too! This makes me happier than Charlie Sheen at a hooker Outlet Mall!! I had no idea that other kids did that - I thought Duck was the only one!!"

At which JP took a swig of her Margarita and said, "See, they don't have a behavior disorder! It's just developmental!"

Well, hell. I can drink to that!

The problem in parenting, for me, comes in that I have no idea what to expect from my 6 year old. I completely understand what to expect from my 4 year old because I have already gone through all of it before, 2 years prior. I have no idea what is normal, what is behavioral, what is developmental, and what is just the little quirks that make Duck "Duck." This is a huge problem because it means one very critical thing: he's always going to be one step ahead of me. I don't have any idea what makes him tick and he's equally as confused as to why I don't know those things! C'mon, Mom, get with the program! Don't you know that this is what kids do? Um, no, Duck, I don't.

It's certainly the hardest job on the planet, this parenting gig. It's not for wimps and if you cannot hold your own, you might as well get whatever tubes you have clipped right now 'cause you'll be behind from day one and will never catch up.

They're intense. They're conniving. They make plans and plots. They scream and moan and whine and shout and stomp and demand and rage and pout and cry and criticize and control and growl and groan.

"You just gotta love 'em through it," JP says.

Yeah. Remind me of that when my 6 year old beast has his fangs out and is looking at my main artery.

But then, after the work was done and the long drive home was finished, I walked my sleepy animal to his room and tucked him in.

"Come lay with me a minute, Mama." And I did.

He held on tight and I looked into those piercing blue eyes, brushed the long, long blond hair from his forehead, and I melted into a thousand little puddles.

"Mama, I'm so proud of you. You're a rockin' lady, alright. You're my favorite thing. Good night, I love you, I'll see you in the morning."

And as I walked out of his room, I paused and looked back at his bed. There, on the floor, was a wolf's suit with fur and fangs and claws. But in that big boy bed with the Spiderman sheets slept the sweetest, most loving, cuddliest woolly sheep that ever lived.

Yeah.

I can love him through anything.

Feeling the love - some more!

So, in April, I posted about feeling the love from my friends for my 30th birthday.

Well. Let me just say that they are coming through for me again in droves for the !st (and hopefully last) Annual MP3 Crisis Benefit. I got tunes coming to me from West Virginia, San Francisco, Ireland, and even here in the po ' dunk Midwest.

Thanks friends!

But, of course, we all know you're saving your own asses, too, 'cause Elvis knows that hell hath no fury like Erzulie without her tunes.


xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Priceless is ...

the look on the library assistant's face as she checks out a zillion cds to me this morning as I try to rebuild my MP3 collection.  I can only hope that she's working tomorrow when I go back and return them all.

 

 

A week and a half ago, my hard drive went up in flames. Oh yes, but it was not in a blazing glory - no, it was in response to a freaking Disney children's computer game. That little mouse can bite me.

Thankfully I bought a service plan and the whole mess didn't cost me anything other than some pictures (a tragedy) and all my freaking MP3s (a mind blowing, gut wrenching crime against humanity.)

The new hard drive arrived on Monday and the tech came to my house on Tuesday to install it. Wouldn't you freaking now it? It was the wrong hard drive. Unreal.

Hard drive #2 arrives yesterday, tech arrives this morning and it wasn't the same hard drive that I originally had -it was a *better* one. SCORE!

So, now I'm out to harass all my friends to pay homage to the YouSendIt gods and email me all the lovely music I need. Check your inboxes, folks, 'cause I'm calling in some favors.

Designer helps birth custom wool creations and babies

From the St. Louis Post Dispatch by Deb Peterson

Sarah Kohl spins wool, knits wherever she goes, home schools her kids and assists women with labor and breast-feeding.

"Sounds like Laura Ingalls Wilder, doesn't it?" she says with a laugh.

But Kohl is definitely not a character out of the pioneer author's imagination. She started out as Sarah Wells, the youngest of three children born to the Rev. Larry Wells and his wife, Sheryl.

Wells was a minister with the United Methodist Church and Sarah spent her early school years in Glendale and Webster Groves, where her father was the minister at Webster Hills U.M.C. The church used to move ministers around every couple of years so the family also lived in Imperial and Hannibal before stopping more permanently in Jefferson City.

Sarah said her parents often commented that she was born in the wrong generation. But it wasn't Wilder's time that they were talking about, it was wilder times, such as the 1960s. Sarah was always interested in women's issues and with the idea of empowering women. She says that from an early age, she knew she wanted to "catch babies" (help women with labor and delivery), and that after a couple of years as a psychology major at Mizzou, she realized she was wasting her money. So she left college and went off to spend a summer traveling with the Rainbow People.

When she got back to Missouri, Sarah settled in Columbia, which she says felt more like home to her than Jefferson City. After dabbling in a variety of things, and continuing to hone her skills as a "doula" - a labor assistant - David Gentzsch, a friend's father who had started a business called Ozark Handspun, taught her how to spin wool.

The company now sells beautiful wool, silk and mohair yarns across the United States, Canada, France and Australia. Sarah takes it one step further, felting goods and knitting bags, scarves, shrugs, shawls, hats, baby slings and custom apparel that are each a unique creation.

How did you learn to make this stuff?

I hate to say that it was easy, but it was easy for me. I never follow a pattern, but I can figure out the math, so I know whether I need to increase or decrease stitches to make what I want.

What do you start with when you're spinning?

David starts with raw wool and mohair and he washes it and then it goes through a picker, where all the nasty junk gets combed out. Then it is died with natural and synthetic dyes and either he or I or both of us put together huge trash bags of different colored wool and mohair. Then I bring it home and I spin it.

What do your sons do while you're spinning?

I have the wheel set up right in the middle of their play room. Sage is really interested so he will sit in my lap sometimes and spin with me. I love the rhythm of it and can do it for hours.

How do you come up with your unique color schemes and design ideas - like hats with pulled out pieces of yarn that look almost like bangs or eyelashes?

I just dream them up. I might see something when I'm out with the kids and that will inspire me to do something. I think everything you look at and everything you do can be a learning experience.

Is that how you approach home schooling?

Yes. My philosophy on life has a lot to do with my philosophy about toys and children. I don't believe that there should be any learning that isn't enjoyable, and I believe that you can learn something from every enjoyable experience. It's all about balance. A trip to the car wash can be a physics lesson, for instance.

How many births do you assist every year, and are they all home births?

I did about 25 last year and they were all home births. I have decided this year that I won't take on any new clients because I want to spend more time with my kids and more time spinning and designing. I will take on repeat clients and I am a certified breast-feeding educator so I will continue to do that.

What's the best book you've read lately?

I'm reading "To Kill a Mockingbird," which is a wonderful book. I loved "The Zen Commandments," which I finished recently.

Favorite trip you've taken recently?

My husband I left Dakota and Sage with my in-laws and Brian and I took a honeymoon trip to St. James, Mo. We stayed at a B&B there and hiked and went antiquing and walked around Meramec Springs. It was a great trip.

What do you drive?

A white, 1998 Plymouth Grand Voyager SE minivan with a Grateful Dead sticker in the window, a "Birth is not an illness" bumper sticker and music blaring from all the windows.

Everyone, quick, get out your protective gear

I'm going off caffeine.

The Joys of

having long hair and an old air conditioner are not at all lost on my lovely 6 year old Duck.

Because being 4 just wears you out.

 

now, this is a Sunday

It's Sunday, B's day off.  We all woke up very early today for some reason -all four of us were up and around by 6:15 in the morning.   B got dressed and, even though it was raining, escaped for some much needed alone time at a lake with dreams of catching dinner.  He'll be back in couple of hours, drenched and happy, ready for some warm coffee and some time with the family.

 

He mowed yesterday.

The grocery shopping is done.

There is very little laundry to do.

The house isn't exactly sparkling, it's lived in, but it's acceptable.

 

While I am not an advocate of much TV watching or game playing, days like this warrant it.  I'm envisioning all of us watching a movie and pigging out on popcorn with nutritional yeast.  I see the boys playing a video game while I spin yarn off to the side.  I see a grazing lunch and an early dinner.

 

Not much to do.

 

And that's what I like to do best.

Dear Mr. Ritchie

Please move into my house. 

More specifically, my closet.

Or, under my bed would work quite nice, as well.

In fact, how about *in* my bed.

 

Thank you.

 

Love,

A woman who has always been after the kings of Skeeve Nation, the guys with long hair and a passion for loud music, fast cars, faster motorcycles, good drugs, hard liquor, and a badass streak as long as a gravel road.

 

Same as it ever was

"I could only look around me: Atticus and my uncle, who went to school at home, knew everything - at least, what one didn't know the other did.  Furthermore, I couldn't help noticing that my father had served for years in the state legislature, elected each time with out opposition, innocent of the adjustments my teachers thought essential to the development of Good Citizenship.  Jem, educated on a half-Decimal half-Duncecap basis, seemed to function effectively alone or in a group, but Jem was a poor example: no tutorial system devised by man could have stopped him from getting at books.  As for me, I knew nothing except what I gathered from Time magazine and reading everything I could lay hands on at home, but as I inched sluggishly along the treadmill of the Maycomb County school system, I could not help receiving the impression that I was being cheated out of something.  Out of what I knew not, yet I did not believe that twelve years of unrelieved boredom was exactly what the state had in mind for me."

 

Scout Finch

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

1960

Fine Print

I met with the columnist for the St. Louis Post Dispatch yesterday.  I was sort of nervous because I had no idea who this woman was, what should would be like, if I had any answers to any of the questions she was going to ask.  I mean, after all, I just kind of pull stuff out of my ass - I don't follow patterns, I just make things up as I go along.  The fact that people think that what I do is art still escapes me, regardless of how many people tell me such.

 

So at one o'clock, we sat down in some comfy leather couches and started looking at some of my designs and things I had made and also some Ozark Handspun.  Within seconds, I was totally comfortable with her.  She's lively, she's opinionated, she's funny and intelligent and has a wonderful sense of humor.

 

I looked up at the clock. It was 3 in the afternoon and she'd not written anything down yet!  Oh yeah, this is an interview for a newspaper!  Maybe we should take some notes!

We'd been laughing and hooting and talking like hens in a nest, cluck cluck cluck.  Like girlfriends over a margarita, we had leaned back on the couches, pulled our knees up (you know how we do, ladies,) and just had a grand old time!  WHAT FUN to make such a sincere connection to someone with whom my path most likely would have never crossed!

 

Out comes the note pad and 30 minutes of fast and furious note taking later, we ventured outside for some photographs and, of course, more laughter.  We parted ways with a big hug and her assurance that she would swat my dear friend JFL on the ass upon her return to the Dispatch (gotta love that!)

 

I think that the column will be fantastic.  I guess we'll find out soon - it will be published on Tuesday.

 

Oh yeah, and as an unexpected bonus - she bought $175 of my stuff!

 

That's some fine journalism.  Cannot wait to see the fine print!

 

Well how about that?

It seems I'll be having an interview tomorrow at noon with a columnist for the St. Louis Post Dispatch.  Crazy where a fiber obsession will take you.

I'm done

I don't wanna be a mother anymore

I don't wanna be a cook anymore

I don't wanna be a maid anymore

I don't wanna be a laundress anymore

I don't wanna be a teacher anymore

I don't wanna be the referee anymore

I don't wanna hear them fight anymore

I don't wanna hear those annoying fucking noises anymore

I don't wanna get drinks anymore

I don't wanna get snacks anymore

I don't wanna do this anymore

 

 

They say it's your birthday!

It's my sister's 38th birthday!  WOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOO!

 

Happy Birthday, Beckafra.

 

xoxoxoxoxo

I'm beyond stunned

our mindless, fart lighting, chronic halitosis having, favorite playing, benefit cutting, closed minded fuckwit of a governor finally did something that I actually applaud and completely and 100% agree with.  But I'm beginning to wonder - did he have a stroke?  This decision actually makes sense.  It's so out of character for him.  Surely a neurologist is on board

 

He signed a bill into law making it mandatory for children under the age of 8 and under 80 pounds to ride in a booster seat.

 

I have seen too many children, including some that I love, riding around without booster seats and, in many cases, without seat belts.  This is beyond unexplainable to me.  I'm a fanatic about seat belts, car seats, and booster seats.  Children in the back.  Everyone clicked in before the vehicle starts.  Honest to goodness, isn't it a very small price to pay for the safety of children?  Why people refuse to take such simple steps to keep our children alive and safe is unimaginable to me.  Maybe now they'll pay the price.  Better the parents than the children, eh?

 

So, happy happy day.

 

And Governor Dumbass?  Thank you.

 

 

Oh, you're serious!

We have no children tonight.  This means that Mama wants to go OUT.  Oh hells yes, out. I spend so much of my time looking at these same walls (granted, I love these walls,I own these walls, I am lucky to have these walls, but jeezus, gimme some different freaking walls once in awhile.)  I wanna go out.

 

B, however, wants to stay in.

 

Again.

 

So we have the phone call.  You know the one:

 

I told him that he was welcome to stay home if he wants to, but I'm going out.  That I would go with him or find someone else to go out with, but I'm going out.  I would prefer it to be him.  But I'm going out with or without him.  I'm not trying to control his time, but I'm telling him honestly what I'm going to do with mine.  Goodbye. Click.

 

Fast forward 5 minutes.

 

Hi Honey.  We can go out.  I just don't want to be out all night and I want to come home first before we go back out.  So you do what you want to do and I'll either meet you at home or at W's.

 

Great, B, looking forward to it.  I have some shopping to do and I might meet a friend, but I'll see you when we see each other.  Sounds like a great plan.

 

Silence.

 

Um, okay, baby.  Okay.  Well, I'm sure I'll be ready to go back out after you get done shopping so, think about what you want to do tonight and we'll do it together.

 

Crap on a cracker, why don't guys realize earlier on that we're gonna do what we're gonna do?  It would save so much freaking time.  I guess, in their eyes, time is better off spent with their chin down on the floor and their eyes all bugged out while making that all so sexy "Whaaaaaaaaaaaa?????????????" sound.

 

Thank you, Elvis, for giving me ovaries and a shred of common sense.

GORGEOUS

The high today is going to be in the low to mid 70s, slight chance of thunder showers, low tonight is 56.  GOOD GRAVY it's just gorgeous.  I love days like this. 

Earlier this week I commented to some of my girlfriends about how wonderful my marriage is and how in love I am with my husband.  Sweet, eh? 

 

Until today. 

Today I plotted to hang him up by his testicles and beat him like a pinata.

 

It matters not why we were fighting.  Mostly, we just felt like blowing off some steam.  We've been together 7 years and very rarely fight anymore (those early days, gah, horrible!)  When it happens, though, it's not fun.

 

The problem with us is that we can both fight like champions, we can both hold grudges and stay pissed and find more reasons to be irate and just draw. it. out. for. ever.  We have stamina and an overwhelming amount of self righteous indignant flair.  If we ever really wanted to, we could dissect each other and reduce each other to quivering heap of emotional shards in 10 words or less.

 

Thank Elvis on Velvet that we don't ever want to do that.

 

Last night, B and I had a very long, very honest, very intense, very open, and very peaceful discussion about a tremendously difficult topic.  It was emotionally charged and, if we hadn't spent so much time to improve our communication skills, it could have turned into a vicious battle of words - but it didn't.  We both expressed ourselves and both felt heard and validated.  It was terrific, it was needed, it was hard.  And, it probably contributed to today's Bitchfest 2006 'cause once that stuff is out there, you cannot take it back.  You cannot un-ring the bell, and those emotions have to go somewhere.  Last night, those emotions wanted to kick in his teeth, but I didn't do that.  Today, I just wondered what would come pouring out if I whacked him with a bat.  Probably not candy, eh?

 

After a few hours of this childishness, I felt it pass and so did he.  It was strange, almost like someone had just left the room.  I looked at him and he looked at me and for the first time all day, we smiled at each other and just started talking about business plans and getting excited about some of the new things I'm designing and creating and new methods that I've discovered increase my productivity and reduce the amount of 4 letter words that spew from my mouth while working.  We planned what we're going to do on our night off this week.  We talked about dinner and what kind of trouble he and the kidlets are gonna get into on their weekly Daddy and Sons trip to the hardware store.  It was over, just as suddenly as it began.

 

We don't want to hurt each other.  We don't want to fight.  We just want to be happy and we both know that being happy is often times better than being right.  After all, if you want to beat the shit out of the love of your life, it's not very "right," now is it?  So we let it go, out into the cosmos, out into the black hole of marital stress.  I hope it stays gone for a long time.

 

 

I'm impatient

If it takes more than 2 minutes to download a song ....

 

well.  

 

You do the math.

Gertie makes her move

So, ol' Gert, aka Tractor, aka the 1983 Toyota Landcruiser that B totalled, finally made her move.  She's been serving as Parts Truck for the 1985 Landcruiser that B now drives and she's been sitting in our driveway for 3 years since the wreck.

 

Today, she made her move.  To our back yard.  Behind the GINORMOUS cedar tree.

 

Ah, Gert, Ah Tractor, you're now part of the scenery.

 

For awhile, all we needed was a toilet filled with geraniums to make the White Trash Gazette.

 

I'm telling you -

We're moving on up, Weezie.

Just throwing it out there ---

As much as I complain about her, my MIL is amazing.  She takes the kids at least 3 times a month and I don't even ask.  She asks ME if she can have the boys.  I'm so blessed.

 

Jon Bon Jovi is hot.  I don't care.  He's fucking HOT.

 

I totally love the romanticised Southern Moms.  Yeah, it'll screw your kids up, but it looks like so much fun.  Cheers, JP!!!

 

My husband is the best man in the entire world for me.  How did I get so lucky?  By settling for nothing less.

 

Some people never ever learn.  You can wrap that shit up in fancy paper and shiny bows, but it's the same box of stupidity.  If you see yourself in this sentence, it's for you.  If you don't, it's not about you!  End of story.

 

I love the women in my life who appreciate the men in their lives. 

 

If you don't have health insurance, booze is an acceptable substitute for antidepressants.  Don't believe me?  Buy me some insurance and prove me wrong.

 

Some things are just so absurd they seem to disappear from your own sense of reality.  For example, yes, I was married before B.  But I FORGET that I was married before and I FORGET that my ex-husband exists.  Thank you Elvis for never giving me and my ex  children and thus, I can forget about him.  JST, hope you're doing well, where ever you are, as long as it's far away from me.

 

So, my Mom's group??  Sincerely the best group of women in the whole freaking world.  I LOVE YOU ALL.  (And I know some of you are readers of this blog now, so CHEERS!!!!  See you in the forums.  BTW, what amazing thing are we gonna do for Miss D and her new fiance E????  I'm thinking mail order strippers???)

 

I've learned that being on different continents is no impediment to friendship.  2 of my best girlies live on the other side of the world and I couldn't be closer to them.  JMB and SS, loving you all ....

 

 

 

 

ahhhhhhhhhh

I just took a nap with my kids.  Tell me that isn't the most amazing thing to do on a Tuesday afternoon.

Exactly what I needed

Thank you, V.  It's perfect.

 

 A HOMAGE TO AGE AND FEMININITY
Anne LaMott


I was at a wedding Saturday with a lot of women in their 20s and 30s in sexy dresses, their youthful skin aglow.  And even though I was 30 or 40 years older, a little worse for wear, a little tired and overwhelmed by the loud music, I was smiling.  I smiled with a secret Cheshire-cat smile of pleasure and relief in being older.  I would not give you back a year of life lived.

Age has given me what I was looking for my entire life - it gave me me.  It provided the time and experience and failures and triumphs and friends who helped me step into the shape that had been waiting for me all my life.

I fit into me now - mostly.  I have an organic life finally, not the one people imagined for me or tried to get me to have or the life someone else might celebrate as a successful one - I have the life I dreamed of.  I have become the woman I hardly dared imagine I could be.

There are parts I don't love - until a few years ago, I had no idea that you could get cellulite on your stomach - but I not only get along with me most of the time now, I am militantly and maternally on my own side.

Left to my own devices, would I trade this for firm thighs, fewer wrinkles, a better memory?  On some days.  That's why it's such a blessing I'm not left to my own devices. Because the truth is I have amazing friends to whom  I can turn. I have a cool kid, a sweet boyfriend, darling pets.  I've learned to pay attention to life, and to listen.  I'd give up all this for a flatter belly?  Are you crazy?

I still have terrible moments when I despair about my body.  But they are just moments - I used to have years when I believed I would be more beautiful if I jiggled less; if all parts of my body stopped moving when I did.  But I believe two things now that I didn't at 30. When we get to heaven, we will discover that the appearance of our butts and skin was 127th on the list of what mattered on this earth.

And I know the truth that I am not going to live forever, and this has set me free.  Eleven years ago, when my friend Pammy was dying at the age of 37 we went shopping at Macy's.  She was in a wheelchair, with a wig and three weeks to live. I tried on a short dress and came out to model it for Pammy.

I asked if she thought it made me look big in the thighs, and she said, so kindly, "Annie?  You just don't have that kind of time."  I live by this story.

I am thrilled-ish for every gray hair and achy muscle, because of all the friends who didn't make it, who died too young of AIDS and breast cancer. And much of the stuff I used to worry about has subsided -what other people think of me and how I am living my life. I give these things the big shrug. Mostly. Or at least eventually. It's a huge relief.

I became more successful in my mid-40s, but this pales compared to the other gifts of this decade - how kind to myself I have become, what a wonderful, tender wife I am to myself, what a loving companion.  I get myself tubs of hot salty water at the end of the day in which to soak my tired feet.

I run interference for myself when I am working, like the wife of a great artist would: "No, I'm sorry, she can't come. She's working hard these days and needs a lot of downtime." I live by the truth that "No" is a complete sentence.

I rest as a spiritual act.

I have grown up enough to develop radical acceptance.  I insist on the right to swim in warm water at every opportunity, no matter how cold, no matter how young and gorgeous the other people on the beach are.  I don't think that if I live to be 80 I'll wish I'd spent more hours in the gym or kept my house a lot cleaner.  I think I'm going to wish I had swum more unashamedly, made more mistakes, spaced out more, rested.

On the day I die, I want to have had dessert.  So this informs how I live now.

I have survived so much loss, as all of us have by now - my parents, dear friends, my pets.  Rubble is the ground on which our deepest friendships are built.  If you haven't already, you will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken; and the bad news is that you  never completely get over the loss of a beloved person.

But this is also the good news.  They live forever, in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through. It's like having a leg that never heals perfectly - that still hurts when the weather is cold - but you learn to dance with the limp. You dance to the absurdities of life; you dance to the minuet of old friendships. I danced alone for a couple of years, and came to believe I might not ever have a passionate romantic relationship - might end up alone!  I'd been so terrified of this my whole life.

But I'd rather never be in a couple or never get laid again than to be in a toxic relationship.  I spent a few years celibate.  It was lovely, and it was sometimes lonely.  I had surrendered; I'd run out of bullets. But I learned to be the person I wished I'd meet - at which point I found a kind, artistic, handsome man. We have been together 20 months now.  When we get out of bed, we hold our lower backs, like Walter Brennan, and we smile.

Younger women worry that their memories will begin to go.  And you know what?  They will. Menopause has not increased my focus and retention as much I as I'd been hoping. But a lot is better off missed. A lot is better not gotten around to.  I know many of the women at the wedding fear getting older, and I wish I could gather them together again and give them my word of honor that every one of my friends loves being older, loves being in her 50s, 60s, 70s.  My Aunt Gertrude is 85 and leaves us behind in the dust when we hike.

Look, my feet hurt some mornings, and my body is less forgiving when I exercise more than I'm used to.  But I love my life more, and me more.  I'm so much juicier.  And, like that old saying goes, it's not that I think less of myself, but that I think of myself less often. And that feels like heaven to me

 

Priorities, again

I am my own worst enemy.  I drive myself insane under some sort of life law that says I have to do it all, I have to be everything, I have to take on more and more and more to prove my self worth.

 

Wanna guess how well that is working out for me?

 

In the last 3 days, I've said NO to 2 really big opportunities.

 

It amazes and comforts me that all I have to do is be the best woman I can be, the best Mom I can be, and that I can define both of those roles for myself.

 

Dear Elvis, Please help me to be human.

 

Stealth the angler

Happy Father's Day!

Quick, somebody give me a quarter -

Duck has his first loose tooth!!!!!

 

(And yeah, a quarter doesn't cut it anymore, does it? The kid's gonna be rich.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, VJ!

I love you, Ma'am. More than words can say. My soul sister, my girlie partner, my companion on the long road of the seriously disturbed.

May your birthday bring you everything you've ever dreamed of.

The challenge of my life

It's Monday, aka MP3 challenge day. Oh Wayward One issued the challenge this week - "The one song that tells your life story in the lyrics."

Now, talk about getting nostalgic!!

OWO and I are exactly the same in that every second of every day of our life has a song attached to it. It's just the way we are. We have more music than memories, more songs than shoes, more soundtracks than sound ideas.

This is going to be rough. I swear, we could both fill 2G with songs that tell our life story.

Good one, OWO. If you're looking for me, I'll be the chick buried under all the cds.

Gonna get me some Peaches

No, not the fruit. The dog. I loathe little dogs. I mean that - pretty much across the board, I detest dogs under 45 pounds. There are only 2 exceptions: 1) my MIL's dog, Bo, who can somehow steal your food and then convince you it was your own damned fault anyway, so just shut the hell up and pass the the fucking cupcake already, and 2) Peaches.

To my girlfriends -

I love you.

I would be a shadow of myself without you.  I love that I have such wonderful women in my life. 

 

Next round of drinks on me.

 

As long as they're cheap.

 

Or Free.

 

Or maybe you all could buy me a drink?

 

Let's see.

The cost of sending a drink to California, West Virginia, Virginia, Texas, Arizona, North Carolina, Kansas, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Australia, Botswana, Ireland, New Zealand. 

 

Hmmm.  That's adding up.

 

Yeah, you all send a drink to me, okay? 

 

All my local girlies, Summer comes but once a year.  Let's do it right. 

 

Love you all

I am addicted

to downloading music for Erzulie.

 

It is above and beyond my addiction to bacon, sushi, Kid Rock, Shiner Bock, and yarn.

 

I'm admitting this.  Some folks would say "admitting is the first step in solving the problem."

 

Well.

 

I'm admitting it. 

 

But it's not a problem.

 

I have no plans of fixing it.

 

Go, 'Zulie, Go!

 

It occurs to me that ...

I might be the only 30 year old in pig tails who could be found driving down Broadway in a mini-van listening to Elvis's Blue Hawaii, immediately followed by Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here, and eating sushi, complete with soy sauce and wasabi, at the same time.

Two great games

Got these for Duck's birthday from our friend. They are so amazing! Educational, fun, easy to learn, easy to play. PERFECT!! They fit in so well with our day of learning about Ancient Egypt, bird and their nesting habits, letter writing skills, and astronauts. Summer vacation my ass! There is no summer vacation for an unschooled student - it's all vacation, it's all school! Gotta love making learning fun!

Check them out:

IZZI

The Scrambled States 2

Camping pictures, etc.

In random order 'cause I'm tired and freaking dork. Click to enlarge.

Duck and Stealth's first camping trip

Duck turned 6 on Saturday and we finally fulfilled his dream of going camping. Both B and I were amazed at how well the did. We had such a great time hiking, fishing, swimming, camping and roasting marshmallows. Turns out the boys like to roast them - but they don't like to eat them once they've been roasted. Interesting. 

Happy Birthday, Duck!

 

What we're all thinking ...

Check this out - not for kiddies, though.

Fair warning: it's a video and will take time to load if you don't have high speed internet. Worth it, though, iffin's you have the time to load it.

Big Boy Bike

Duck got a new big boy bike a couple of weeks ago. It is a little too big for him yet, but he picked it out and will grow into it. It's such a trip to watch him work the handbrakes. He does a great job and I'm so proud of him!

My guys

This was taken Mother's Day morning before B took the boys away to let me do my thing.

Duck had found the hat the day before and I LOVE it. It's too small for him, but he still wears it. I look at this kid and I say, "Man, he's cool. I want to be his friend."

Stealth is just Stealth. He has some sort of magical powers or something. He behaves in ways that would make most folks want to put him out on the curb on garbage day yet everyone loves him and thinks he's the greatest. I guess, with those skills, he is. 

Got One!

We have frogs and toads in our backyard. In the past few years, we've seen some small ones now and then, but this year, we've really had a lot of them and they are big. The boys love to run around the yard trying to get them, trying to chase them, trying to catch them.

Friday, Stealth got one. A big one. He, Duck, and their 3 girlfriends kidhandled this frog until he finally escaped and hopped for cover.

The biggest delight, however, was the way the frog kept peeing on the kids over and over. For some reason, they really thought that was hysterical.

Kids are strange. 

Capt. Nemo-Dorothy Kohl, RIP

We got Nemo-Dorothy on Duck's 4th birthday. Next week Duck will be 6.  It was their first pet (they don't rememeber the dogs we had when they were babies.)  2 years for a goldfish is pretty good, I guess.  Stealth found him dead last night and he was just in total disbelief.  This is also their first experience of death so it was a biggie.  It took lots of explaining that Nemo wouldn't be swimming anymore and that whole discussion.  Strealth cried for an hour.  We took him to a lake near by our house (it's in walking distance but we drove) and said a few words and B put him in the lake because, as Duck says,  "Fish don't live in the ground, Mom."

I cannot believe how emotional both B and I got over this fish!  It was just so intense seeing our children process the concept of death and the loss of their pet. Stealth said, "I'm sad and crying because Nemo is dead and I loved him forever and I wanted to keep loving him forever."  Duck would shrug his shoulders and say, "Fish don't live forever - sometimes they just die" like a big tough boy and then his face would squish up and he'd start crying and he'd sob, "I'm so sad that Nemo is dead!"

They both want to go first thing this morning and get a new pet fish.  Or two.  Or maybe four.

I dunno.  I think I'm in mourning.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Just downloading some Bowie for Erzulie and couldn't help myself.

 

So the new template.  I needed something new and I'm sure I'll change this a thousand times before I'm settled.  Frankly, I want my own template -something with disco balls and fuchsia feathers and motorcycles.  No such luck?  How about Mimosas and pink toenails?  A mountain with folks at the base hurling pickles at Val Kilmer who sits omnipotently on top? 

 

Or not.

 

There's all kinds of things I'm excited about and I promise that none of you are interested in any of them.  Oh, don't worry, I'm going to post about them anyway, but you won't care about them - I'm just saying.

 

Our refrigerator.  I hated that bastard for the last year or more.  It just sat there all smugly saying things like, "You know, I'm only 5 years old.  Just old enough to screw with you folks, but not old enough to have me replaced.  Heh Heh Heh, I guess I got you, suckers."  Oh sure, on the outside he looked all innocent and agreeable enough. On the outside.  Open him up, however, and you entered the 7th circle of appliance hell.  Although we do not have an ice maker hooked up to it, it was *leaking water* from the top.  Oh yes, water leaked down from the top, ran down the back of the fridge, into the crispers (a big bitch for me since I'm shelling out $3 per handful of organic salad goodies that we eat by the bushel,) and eventually onto our floor where it undoubtedly was destroying our floors and sub floors.  A Whole Freaking Year, folks.  Yes, yes, we could have called a repairman.  Yes yes, I could have called a repair man.  But see, I'm married to a guy who can fix anything, anything at all, if he tries hard enough.  The trick is that he has to be motivated to do something about it.  It took a full year.  A FULL FREAKING YEAR.  But yesterday, we took everything out of the damned beast.  We found the clog in the drain.  We took off panel after panel.  We flushed tubes and pipes and probably someone's colon (in the chaos, things got a little confusing.)  We cleaned every square inch of that thing.   We threw away enough food to feed a starving family in a third world country.  But ladies and gentlemen, let me make an announcement:

 

We kicked that refrigerator's ass.

 

It's working like a charm and I love my newly humbled icebox.  There's no water leaking.  It's clean enough I would eat off it (Okay, maybe I would have done that anyway ...)  I look at my Whirlpool and it says to me, "Come here, Mamakohl, I have a goodie for you ..." and it does.  And I partake in the next thing I'm excited about:

 

Captain Morgan's Parrot Bay Passion Fruit Rum with Dole Orange, Peach, Mango Juice.  I used to be a big drinker.  For years, I would amaze people at my ability to put it away.  Then I went a long time without drinking anything at all.  Now, occasionally, I delight in a little imbibement.  This is my new favorite grown up treat.  It's delightful for Spring / Summer and goes best with girlfriends.  The only downside is that you have to have a whole lotta juice 'cause the kids are going to see you drinking something that looks like something they would be drinking and you have to give them something of their own so they don't drink yours.  Enter frozen OJ concentrate - it's living in my newly compliant freezer.  This brings me to another exciting thing ---

 

JenPen is officially out of teaching for the summer.  I've written about how much I love summers with her and her family.  It's just too good to be true, most times.  The fiesta starts tomorrow morning at 9:30 at my house.  Mimosas for the grownups, sandboxes for the little ones.  I love girlfriends.  And another exciting point -

 

DDFF and I owe ourselves some serious sushi.  And maybe a cocktail or two, certainly tea and Main Squeeze.  My right hand gal has worked her tush off these last few weeks and June is only gonna get more crazy for her.  She'll be without her children for a whole month while she catches baby after baby, but I'm hoping she'll have time to let her mojo shine on her girlie friends (meaning ME.)

 

Speaking of kidlets, my MIL has requested we start working towards week long visits, meaning she wants to eventually keep my children for an entire week.  Um, OKAY!  Now B is not so thrilled about this.  He is not with them 24/7 and so he misses them terribly when they're gone for even a night.  Yeah, it's sweet and all, but COME ON.  Mama needs to get her groove on and let me tell you, my groove is seriously impaired with two whining children attached to me demanding that I sing the "BunnyHop" yet again.

 

Oh man, speaking of singing songs, Duck can now sing all the lyrics to Jimmy Buffet's Cheeseburger in Paradise.  Oh yeah, sometimes he goofs a word or two, but he's got the chant down cold.  "I like mine with lettuce and tomato, Heinz 57 and French fried potatoes, big kosher pickle and a cold draft beer, good god almighty which way do I steer??"   He screams this at the top of his lungs while riding his bike down the hill, long hair trailing behind him.  Holy smokes, I love that kid.

 

Folks, I'm outta here.  Things are going to be busy this summer, what with all the laziness to be done and all.  I'm sure I'll still be posting, but I'll bet you won't be interested in any of it.  Just like you weren't interested in any of this drivel, either.

 

Time may change me, but I can't change time.

 

SO cool ...

Check this out - Photo Zoomer

 

Fair warning -it might take a bit to load and you might have install Shockwave, but I just spent a good 15 minutes with Duck at this site.  Listening to Erzulie sing from her portable dock (our closet boy, Jill,) and just diving deeper and deeper into these photos. 

 

It's almost like a meditation.

Amazing things are afoot at the Circle K, Ted.

This could turn into a long post, but I'm realizing that I'm not prepared to write about it in full yet, so I'm just going to regurgitate what it is that I feel I can say.

 

Something big is afoot at the Circle K, Ted.  (If you email me the movie reference, I'll give you a gold star!!)

I am the Circle K.

 

I go through these phases where everything is all a bunch of shit and then for a few months everything is golden.  While this sounds like bi-polarism, I think it's more likely a labor of myself.  Meaning, when a woman pushes a child out into the world, the baby moves down a bunch and then goes back up a little - 2 steps forward, 1 step back.  Eventually, a new person emerges after a lot of work and a lot of back and forth.  Tis the same with myself.

 

I've realized a few things in the last few days:

1. I don't have to good at everything.  I can try things (or not) just for the fun and experience of it - I don't have to make everything an endeavor.
2. It's okay for me to only do one thing well a day.  For example, Saturday morning, I held down a deck chair really well.  Yesterday, I did laundry to the best of my ability, today I'm spinning well in the morning and will hang out with my best friend this afternoon the very best way I can.  For everything else that comes up, good enough is good enough.
3. I don't have to be incredibly productive every day of my life.
4. It's likely that I need to change my definition of "productive."
5. Hanging out with my kids *is* doing something.

Things are moving, things are changing, things are shifting.  I'm shedding the scales of unwanted thinking and opening up to the beautiful plumage of acceptance.

 

Now way?  Way!

Happy Birthday!

DDFF is up bright and early today to attend the scheduled birth of a little girl!  Congratulations A & B, and Happy Happy Birthday Baby H!!

 

 

The Koala and the Little Lizard

 
A koala is sitting up a gumtree smoking a joint when a little lizard walks past and looks up and says "Hey Koala ! what are you doing?"

 
 
The koala says: "Smoking a joint, come up and have some." 
 
So the little lizard climbs up and sits next to the koala and they have a few joints. 
 
After a while the little lizard says his mouth is 'dry' and is going to get a drink from the river. 
 
But the little lizard is so stoned that he leans too far over and falls into the river. 
 
A crocodile sees this and swims over to the little lizard and helps him to the side, then asks the little lizard: "What's the matter with you?" 
 
The little lizard explains to the crocodile that he was sitting smoking a joint with the koala in the tree, got too stoned and then fell into the river while taking a drink. 
 
The crocodile says he has to check this out and walks into the rain forest, finds the tree where the koala is sitting finishing a joint, and he looks up and says "Hey you!" 
 
 
So the koala looks down at him and says  
 
"Fucccccccccck dude.......how much water did you drink?!!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks, JMB, I needed that one.

Cause for celebration

Today my husband got an incredibly well deserved, largely overdue, *huge* promotion.  Along with that comes more stress, more work, more responsibility.  Also more perks, more vacation and sick time, more respect, more clout, and yes, more money.  Significantly more money.  Okay, maybe a lot more money.

 

This has been a long time coming.  It isn't without some angst - B had to say goodbye to a man who used to be one of his best friends.  That friendship will never be rekindled.  There will be the pains of transitions, the confusion of new roles, but it will all be in passing.  When the dust settles, I'm certain we'll be on top of the heap.

 

I'm so proud of him.

 

Cheers!

My Mother's Day Gift

It's the Big one! I've wanted a KitchenAid mixer since I was 19 years old, I have lusted after my girlfriends' KitchenAids. I figured someday ...

This morning started out like most Mother's Days, me bawling like an infant, sobbing because my kids deserve so much more than I can ever give them, me wishing I could be more, do more, give more. B gave me coffee, told me to go downstairs and check in with the Brains. When I asked if I could come get more coffee, he told me to wait a minute and then come up. I walked up the stairs and saw on the counter my KitchenAid with bows all over it! AND I get to pick out another accessory to go along with it!

Check out the specs!

The best part, however, was the card. Handmade by B out of red mat board with a heart engraved in it, signed by both of my children, and with the following message:

We Thank You.
Thank you for everything that you do.
Thank you for everyone that you are.
Thank you for everything that you believe.
You are the glue that holds our family together.
You are truly beautiful, turly loved, and most importantly,

You are truly appreciated.
Love Always,
B

If there's a luckier woman on this planet, I've never met her.
My mixing bowl runneth over.

Whadda Guy

Somewhere along the line, Karma took notice of me.  I've paid my dues for a lot of my past transgressions, but I've also reaped the rewards of some of my nicer moments.  Nice thing to have, really, this Karma.  It's always made more sense to me than this Heaven and Hell crap.  But I wonder, when things go my way, what caused it?  Was it when I pulled the "nobody" kid aside at youth group, you know, the one who always smelled like pee, and told her what we were playing and let her have my turn?  Was it the time that I cancelled my daily plans and took on a 10 week old child for the day so his young, single mother could go to work to pay the bills?  Was it the time that I discovered that tequila and Mountain Dew actually go quite well together and thus created a new, affordable taste sensation for my fellow broke college friends?

 

I dunno.  I must have done something amazing, however, to have earned my husband.

 

I give B a lot of crap.  I do.  He's a man, he lives in my house, he makes a mess = he's annoying.  But, really, it's not that big of a deal.  He's a gem, a pure gem, and I love him. In the last week, my husband has:

 

Done his own laundry and some of mine, too.

Called me at least 4 times from work to say he loves me

Entertained the kids for 2 hours while I hogged the bathroom.

Brought me bubbles for the bath, tea to drink, and a cloth for my forehead as I soaked in the tub and hogged the bathroom for 2 hours.

Bought me my favorite beer twice, even though he cannot / does not drink anymore and he misses it sometimes.

Jumped so far out of his comfort zone for me - and even allowed it to be photographed.

Made me dinner.

Brought me flowers.

Did the kid pick up / drop off deal so I could sit on my butt and watch a cheesy Lifetime movie.

Arranged for me to have Mother's Day off.  And I mean OFF.  No mothering duties required.  Period.

Then asked me what I wanted for Mother's Day and hinted at a KitchenAid (yeah, we've been here before, but you never know ...)

Offered to take my Mom her Mother's Day gift so I wouldn't even have to think about that.

Told me I'm sexy.

Showed me he thinks so.

Saw I was having a bad day and asked me, "Honey, do you need to go out tonight?  I've got some cash you can have, so don't tell me money is tight."

 

And guess what?  That's all average stuff.  I could expect and receive any or all of that on any given day.

 

A gem, I tell you.  A Gem.

 

Hmm.  Maybe this is Karma paying me back from the night I saved a whole bus of nuns from plummeting down a cliff and being eating alive by fire spewing, nun eating beavers.

 

Or maybe not.