Shorts

• Took Brother to piano lessons. Parked in Piano Teacher's driveway.  Piano Teacher's Husband comes to the car and asks me to move it to a spot 15 feet away. I figure, I am blocking his car in. He is going somewhere.
  
  He goes back into the house and sits on the sofa. Thirty minutes later, I emerge with Brother from lesson. Husband is still sitting on same place on couch. I determine that he is rock-sucking jerkface and just wants to boss me around to watch me obey.
• Honey is making a Cherpumple for Thanksgiving. Google it. I'll wait.
  
  Honey may be insane.
• I have stupidly hired a guy to paint my shed...Friday. Which means I have to go buy paint sometime between right now and Friday morning. Stupid.
• Honey bought me flowers because I had a hard day and my staff drove me crazy and the children are screamy. He is a good Honey.
• I just want to go to bed, but instead I have to make turkey brine in which to brine a turkey. No, I can't skip it, Mother. So. Off I go to make fancy salt water. Catch ya later.

Peachy

So yesterday was the rare occasion where the kids had school, but Honey and I were off of work. We planned to spend the entire day in fits of childless glee. Alas, the wee one decided that it would be a lovely day to get a nasty seal-barky cough and a 102+ temperature. Talk about a buzz kill. I am still mourning a Baskin Robins lunch I had planned.

Today I had a rough day at work wherein every person on the face of the planet told me I sucked and I had to smile and tell them to please come again soon because it is their job make me feel like gum on the bottom of someone's shoe - smooshed and thoroughly unwelcome - and I surely did not want them to get a poor employment evaluation.

Somehow or another it is so much easier to focus on the negativity rather than the good stuff. I had at least three separate people profusely thank me for being helpful, patient, and kind. I taught someone to send an email, found resources for an entire class of 7th graders to do a research paper, and wrote a schedule for an entire staff for the week of Thanksgiving (which was by far, the hardest thing I did all day.) I also recorded some radio spots at the local station which was so dry/hot I felt like I had walked into a bread oven only without the nice smell. 

Scooter was feeling much better today, but Honey still stayed home most of the day with him. Brother didn't have much homework and was able to go outside before piano lessons. I made a dinner that everyone actually ate, even treat-fiend Jelly Bean. So even with all of the things that sometimes feel like they are going chronically, oppressively wrong... everything really is just peachy.  Really.

Unexpected

You know, I never meant for this to happen. When I was transitioning my life last February, I realized I would have to give some things up. Leave, some money, flex scheduling. The ability to go to my kids' school functions without a second thought.

I didn't realize that I would give up housework to an even higher level than I ever had before...And believe me, the house wasn't clean to begin with.  I would give up my comfort zone and have to deal with unhappy people daily that I would be expected to appease even when the answer was still, I'm sorry, no. I would give up wearing jeans and tennis shoes to work.

I was more focused on what I would gain. Amazing creative opportunities. The opportunity to make my community a better place on a really fundamental level. Perhaps the one and only shot I was ever going to get to use those letters behind my name in my small town. The ability to expand my resume. (One surprising thing that I gained is this --  the ability to be more widely read. I know that seems like a 'duh' issue, but the truth is that I always had access to the materials. I had a library card. But I heard somewhere right before I started the new gig that people who are emotionally uncomfortable or feel uneasy or threatened are likely to be less adventurous readers. They want comfort in their reading material. Folks who are more content and happy with their lives are not afraid to be challenged by their reading material. They are not afraid to venture away from their comfort zone. I didn't know at the time how scared I was; how terrified I was of the world. I literally had read some of the same books over and over for years. I sought the comfort of knowing exactly what would happen in a world of escape where nothing was close to reality. This idea was and is profound to me.)

I knew that I would need to be innovative in my new job, I just didn't realize that it would take every ounce of creative energy I had. I finally realized how much creative energy I was pouring into my job when I was off for over a week for Hurricane Issac. I started making mad plans to start an etsy business in my spare time after I learned a new craft that I literally have no experience with. I was plotting out work spaces and budgets for days until I realized I was just BORED. One week and all that energy had to go somewhere, come hell or high water.

Of all the things I anticipated giving up, I didn't realize I would give this up.

I miss writing here. I started writing here on a Disney trip when Jelly Bean was 6 months old. He is now 6 YEARS old. I started writing here because of Catherine Newman. Because I had admired her work so much a million years ago and figured I could maybe do that, too. Write lovely things about my children and my life.

A reporter while interviewing me a couple of weeks ago said that he would say to his younger self this: Study the written word! He was an older guy and in the years before the internet, there was fear that the printed word was fading. Now, while paper itself might be getting a little passe, the written form of the language is stronger than ever.  I believe this. I believe in user generated content as a community builder.

Gretchen Rubin said (or at least quoted it in her book) that what we do every day matters more than what we do once in a while.  I believe this is likely true. I would like to cook dinner every day. I would like to go to the gym every day. I think that these goals are honorable and worthwhile. And yet, I can't seem to accomplish them.  I  believe that when there is a job to be done, give the job to the busy person. Busy people get things done. Maybe I am being paradoxical and not making any sort of sense.

I still read what you write. I'm still here, even in the background, even if I am not contributing. I know you are probably sick of me saying that I will try harder. I am kind of sick of it myself. I think maybe I will branch out a little bit. Try some new things. I could move somewhere else, but I think I would rather have a single place rather than a bunch of different ones. At least, that is what I am telling myself today.

~~~
As an aside, a million years ago, I had a contest for some books. The delay is that the teacher flaked and didn't order my items. So! I will make amends in some other way.  There will be books, for sure. And the randomly generated winner is #1....Swistle! A lesson to all of us who don't want to be first in contests. I will contact you. Yay. Happiness.

Beachy Goodness

Snowy dunes

 I like to go to the beach every summer, just for a long weekend. It isn't far and is one of my favorite places. The water is clear and the sand is white.  There is much to love.  I like vacations where there isn't a whole lot of running around.  When we vacation at the beach, it is basically us and the sand and the waves. Throw in some beach toys and some inflatables along with snacks and we are set.

Hide 'n' Seek

This year we stayed at a state park in a cabin, which was charming. It was a lot like staying in a two bedroom condo, with a few less creature comforts.  It would have been perfect if there was a bit more fabric involved. A rug. Some throw pillows, perhaps.

Peter Pan and his Shadow

     It wasn't a lot like camping.  There was a microwave and a dishwasher. but no TV or wifi.  We did get to see some cool birds and bugs that we wouldn't have seen elsewhere. I really loved the beach trail full of palms. It felt like we were on a desert island or some sort of secluded paradise. And  when we reached the foot of the trail and got to the beach, it was practically deserted. At the most crowded, there were about 6 families on the beach at one time and it was a good stretch of sand. 

"Mama! P'ay sand!"

Merchild

The kids slept like logs.  There was morning beach time, about a 3 hour break for lunch and naps, then back to the beach until about 7 PM when we shoved food at the kids and they begged to go to bed. There wasn't much eating out because the kids were so tired. I will be glad when they are a bit older and the naps and early bed times aren't as necessary. Then maybe we can hunt sand crabs at night or go out for ice cream after dinner.

See you soon!

It was a lovely trip. I have a feeling we will be back soon.

A little of this...

• One thing I just couldn't wait for when Jelly started school was book club order forms. Oh, how I love the book club order forms. Beautiful books for cheap cheap! I can buy gifts for all the children in the universe! And the best books. *Happy Sigh*
  
  Brother didn't get any last year and he didn't get fun books anymore like the Llama books, although now they are advertising the new Shannon Hale. I love Shannon Hale.
  
  I don't really buy books all that often. We are library people and get lots of books from the library to read. Why store a book if you don't love it and want to read it over and over and over again? I feel that books are like dresses. For heaven's sake, try it on before you buy it or regret will inevitably ensue. So, this book order, we are buying Pete the Cat, some Mo books, and Oh! Oh! Oh! Let's have a giveaway. I will send you some fun picture books if you leave a comment. Wheeeeee. (If you already have them, regift! Share the LOVE, for pete's sake.) Now, I am very excited.
• We just got back from the beach and my family-together-time is pretty much maxed out.  The kids were exhausted from playing on the beach all day so there were long afternoon naps and everyone was in bed for the night before 8:30.  There was no TV, but we brought a laptop with some movies on it.  Brother read The Hunger Games in one day and, of course, loved it. (I know he was late. I was unsure how he would handle the violence, being sensitive and only 11. He did just fine with it.) Jelly insisted on bringing a giant Beyblade arena (Oh, hello terrible expensive dueling metal tops!) and played with it some. The kids all did magnificently on the ride, especially Scooter.
  
  As a side note, on the screened in back porch at the cabin, we heard Jelly ask Scooter: What is your whole name? To which, Scooter replied "Sefie Roo" which is what I call him.  Completely adorable.  He is like a little caricature of a cutie baby. He literally says "Wuv you too!" with the "w" and everything. He is, however, not a morning person and is known to scream for about an hour every day. Heh.
  
  I am kind of ready to go back to the child-free spa, better known as "employment." This is a magical place where I can tell people what to do and they listen (for the most part) and if they don't, I write them up! (Not really.) Alas...
• There is no work until Thursday due to that jerk Isaac. Can't make up his mind whether or not to be a hurricane or a tropical storm. I don't think it will be bad, but I am not looking forward to any power outages. It was 115 with the heat index yesterday and guys, I like my white noise machine. I neeeed it to sleep.
• So, leave a comment if you want some books. I don't know how many or which ones, so it will be a surprise! Must be in the US, must be a real person, must blah blah blah void where prohibited, your mileage may vary, see you on the flip, Amen.

Morning

This morning kind of sucked.

I had a bad day at work yesterday and being a night-fretter, I took something to help me sleep. Since I worked Saturday and didn't have a true weekend to rest, compounded with the lovely Tylenol PM, waking up was not much fun. Especially when it is waking up to a screaming baby smashing a poptart into the sheets you are sleeping on.

So, I was snappy and grumpy all morning. The next scene finds me laying in a pile of clean-yet-unfolded-clothes on the laundry room floor moaning about my lack of wardrobe. "Where are my grey pants? Where are my black pants with the pink pinstripe?"

Honey is such a good fella. He tries to help. "What about these ones? Or these ones? Or the khaki pants?"

"They are all BROWN! Everything I own is BROWN!"
"Not these."
"They are khaki. Which is a kind of BROWN."
"Not really. I would say they are closer to white."
"Are you really picking right now to argue with me about colors?!?"

So, he sits down in front of me, puts his grinning face next to mine and says, "Don't laugh." Which I did.  Then the two littles came and did the same thing. "Don yaff, mama! Don yaff!" Which was sticky sweet and of course, I laughed. But still, pissy.

I stomped off. Aren't you glad you aren't married to me?

I gave Jelly a doughnut remembering he hasn't had anything except for carbs to eat since yesterday at lunch. I ended up wearing brown anyway. Honey dashed out of the door 10 minutes early. I would say it was just to get away from me, but I may have been bitching about the kids running and screaming. He may have been trying to save me.

Let's hope the rest of the day goes better.

Swamp People

This is why we should just quit leaving the house.

Remember weekend before last? Well, apparently bad luck and misfortune are our new traveling companions.  We were invited to go to a local state park that has a smallish beach on a lake.  Now, I am not really into lakes. The water is usually brown and murky. You can't see the bottom. Ick. But we got to the beach and there was a nice swath of sand for the kids to build sandcastles in. The water was indeed brown, but there were gentle waves. They had brought in the sand since it was the proper sandy color. There was a teeny bit of trash about, but it is a state park - not Disney World. There were cypress trees next to the water with their knees kicked up, like sunbathing grannies. I liked it. I said to Honey, "I like this. We should take pictures here. We should come back."  It was kind of pathetic that we had never been before as it is a whopping five minutes from my parents' house.

We were late, because we are us.  Our friends were already sprawled out in the shade on blankets in the sand. Brother's friends were waaaaayyyy out as the water was really shallow for a pretty long time.  Jelly wanted to go out with Brother, but my stomach was clenching just thinking about Brother in water that far away from me. But all the other kids were out there... I let Brother go out to his friends, but made Jelly wade in the shallows with Scooter, Honey, and myself.  Then we built a sandcastle and took some snapshots of the kids in the sunset.  Brother and his friends came back with a giant pail full of clams they had found and then took turns pitching them back out into the water.  Honey took the little boys out into the water a bit further and I was talking to our friends when a stranger came up to me.

"Are those your people in the water?" (Yes, South Louisiana right here folks.)

I nodded.  He looked at me and said, "There's a gator out there." And then he pointed and sure enough, there was a 6-7 foot alligator about 30 yards away from my babies.  So, I did what anyone would do. I screamed at my husband.

"HONEY! GET THOSE KIDS OUT OF THE WATER NOW!"

And of course, he responded by moseying out of the water at the speed of molasses.  Men. They have no sense of urgency. Or at least mine doesn't.

We spent a good bit of time after this watching the gator. Watching the man walk up and down the beach telling people about the gator.  Watching people scamper out of the water once they realized they were swimming with an alligator. And then. Mr. Swamp People came into the picture.

My friend crossed his arms and said, "Oh, I can't wait to see how this plays out."

Some drunk fellow, with jean shorts, sun glasses, and no shirt goes wading out into the water, chain smoking a cigarette. He throws the lit cigarette into the water and heads straight for the gator.  We're all like, what the hell is he going to do? Wrestle it?  It was all I could do to not hide my eyes from the stupidity and unavoidable carnage.  Fortunately, about halfway to the gator, Mr. Swamp People started posturing and splashing around. Then he apparently decided that he was very intimidating and the gator wasn't going to hurt anyone now and waded back to the beach.  After that, every few minutes or so, he would go back out and make some valiant attempt to 'save' someone who had finally noticed the water clearing out and decided to see what the fuss was about.

Scooter stood on the beach and said "A'gator. Rawr." Jelly complained. "How come everyone else got to see the alligator but ME." Brother was all, "This is the first time I've seen an alligator outside of the zoo."  The gator was still lazily swimming back and forth by the time we left.

It was too much excitement for me. I told Honey, "We're not coming back."

Two-ter Pie

 Scooter Pie is TWO!  He sang "Happy Day, Happy Day" all day yesterday, which was, of course, adorable. We have a pretty subdued celebration, mostly owing to the fact that I planned a ginormous party last year and less than 15 people showed of my guest list of over 60.  It wasn't worth the time, expense, or disappointment. So! This year it was just four of us. Brother is in Ohio with my parents. I can't say I wasn't disappointed in the trip timing - I am. My parents are the only family we have here. It hurts when they aren't present for important stuff. But it is my own fault I let Brother go. He wanted to...I don't know. Sometimes it is the choice between two sucky situations.

 Honey made an Elmo cake. Didn't it turn out great? I was really impressed.  Scooter loved it.  He got a bunch of beach toys for our upcoming trip, some big boy underpants for when potty training will commence, and a new wagon.  Then we went to Chuck E. Cheese for the evening and did a little shopping. Carters is having a mega sale here. I got a whole bag of stuff for Scooter and some other yet-to-be-born babies in my life. It was FUN but also made me realize that I am pretty happy with just the three boys. I can buy stuff for other babies without having to be up all night. Plus.

Today we are going to spend the afternoon at a park with some friends as kind of an extended birthday celebration. I will bake cupcakes to bring to the sitter tomorrow for Jelly and Scooter so they can share with their friends there. All in all, I think it was a good birthday.

Fine

You know what I am genuinely curious about? Why people argue about library fines.

Think about it. Free internet access. Air conditioning. Meeting space. Any book in print you can possibly want will be got for you. A decent collection to browse in the building. Books, DVDs, periodicals, etc. Computers for children and adults. Downloadable eBooks and audiobooks. Free access to databases, online test prep for everything from the GED to the MCAT. Free reference services from master's trained information professionals. Programs such as Mommy&Me, storytimes, book clubs, author speakers for ages birth and beyond.

But people honestly get downright hostile over a $0.60 late fee. Ask to see the manager and then argue with her regarding how they would never ever EVER have brought that book in late in 2005. Because they remember everything they did in 2005.

Fine.

Teeter

I work late tonight running a book club, so my morning is mostly just for me. Jelly has to be at camp at a certain time and I don't like to mess with Scooter's nap routine. So, I just got back from the gym. I feel like my muscles are made of jello and I need a nap. Oof.

I really like going to the gym, but it is hard to find the time. We get home at around 5 in the evening. Then there is dinner and playing outside, piano practice and homework soon. Baths. The house and yard are in a permanent state of needing attention. If I drag the kids to the gym in the evening, I feel like I am sacrificing time with them.  They have a really nice kids' space that looks like a cross between a McDonald's PlayPlace, a computer lab, and a daycare. Scooter does not love it, but his stint in daycare was so short and home care is very different. The older boys don't mind going in there though. We can and do go to the pool at the gym so we can all swim, but that isn't as satisfying of a workout. It is mostly splashing around with the kids and making sure everyone is ok.  I wish I could go 3-4 times a week to work out just for me. They have yoga classes I would like to attend.  When we joined, Honey and I really thought it would be an opportunity for us to spend time together. It does seem to make the kids happier when we take turns going though. I do wish Honey and I would take a class or lift weights together. And I guess I could go by myself if I got up at the crack of dawn or went after the kids were in bed.

I suppose that is what everyone struggles with, the Seussian "great balancing act" of finding time for everything.

MOTY

So, the new job means that I can't really get off of work at the drop of a hat. (This is a slightly misleading statement. I could. But I'm the Boss and I have to Be There and Stuff.) And, of course, Scooter decides that Pink Eye is the new hip disease and gets it in his right eye on Sunday. Today, the sitter tells me that it looks like it is in his left eye, too. Yay! They MATCH!

So, I feel like maybe, just maybe, a doctor's appointment is in order. Only I don't want to have to say the following, even though it is true:

Oh, hi.  See, I think my kid has pink eye, but you might disagree with me since they are not *that* pink and gooey. This is because I have been using his older brother's expired eye drops rather than taking an hour off of work to bring him in.

Mother Of The Year.

Down the Rabbit Hole

Yesterday we attended Honey's Boss's 40th Birthday party.  There was a good bit of kids there and the hosts had borrowed a giant space-walk water slide. Kind of like this:

We spent most of the party socializing, but then Jelly started fussing about going on the water slide. I knew we would never hear the end of it if he didn't get to go on it, so I told Honey to take him outside to play on it while I finished feeding the baby.

When Scooter was done eating, we went outside.  Jelly was sliding down the slide with two little girls.  Honey was sitting on the porch casually watching the kids.  I took Scooter into another part of the front yard, probably 20 feet away from the water slide and played with him. We took turns throwing a beach ball. A couple of minutes later, Honey came over to play, too.

I glanced back to check on Jelly every few minutes.  I noticed the girls were standing at the top of the slide. Because of their collected weight, it sagged just a bit there. I assumed Jelly was laying down at the top.  So I watched and waited for him to get up. After about 30 seconds, I called to the girls. "Is Jelly up there?"

They said no.  Honey and I looked at each other and without a word, he scooped up the baby and we started for the backyard, heading in opposite directions.  I went down the side yard, checked in the playhouse and on the jungle gym, all the while trying to figure out how Jelly got past us.  I was watching pretty carefully and I didn't see him get off the slide.  But he is the most mischievous of my children, so it wasn't entirely out of character for him to cause me anxiety.

He wasn't in the backyard.

I headed back to the front yard. Still not on the slide. I went into the house and looked in all the shut bedrooms asking party-goers, "Have you seen a very wet little boy?" Everyone was shaking their heads at me.  I went into the back patio where a group of adults including the hostess was sitting. I asked her, "Have you seen my son?" She said, "Oh, yes! Your husband has him! He was carrying him down the side of the house."

I started  back to the front yard all the while thinking: If Honey was carrying Jelly, where was Scooter? I got back to the front yard and Honey wasn't there. He came over from the side of the house carrying Scooter. Then I panicked. The hostess saw a man carrying Jelly. A man that wasn't Honey. This was the first time we had met. Maybe she thought someone else was my husband. I ran back through the house to her. I said, "WHO did you see carrying Jelly? Honey doesn't have him."

She said, "Oh, I thought you were talking about the baby. You meant your other son?"

"Yes, I can't find him. Will you help me look?" Every adult got up from the table. I headed back to the front yard and looked toward our car and called out, "JELLY!"

All of a sudden the two girls on top of the slide called to me.

"HE'S IN THE SLIDE!"

The next few seconds were a blur. People rushed into the house shouting, "He's in the slide! He's in the slide!"

I looked at the bottom of the slide and could see a small moving lump at the bottom. I ran over to it. Somehow or another, I got Scooter from Honey because I was holding him. I yelled, "Jelly! How did you get in there?!?!"

He yelled back, "I fell down a hole!"

Sure enough, at the top, there was a hole in a seam, just large enough for a small little boy to slip down.  While I was figuring this out, Honey's Boss had gone in the back of the slide. I had seen the slide deflate slightly and then re-inflate. I raced to the back to see a 2-3 foot tall zipper. People were holding the canvas up so it won't collapse on Jelly and Boss while they were inside while the slide was re-inflating.  I thought the slides were hollow inside, but they are not. They are honeycombed with walls, I suppose for structural integrity. Boss kept yelling. "Where is he?" He was cutting his way through walls to get to Jelly.

Meanwhile, someone else had found the spot where Jelly was and pulled back layers of canvas, I guess to be able to cut through it if Boss couldn't get to Jelly from the inside. I think they were still worried about creating a hole they couldn't shut to keep it inflated. Those things weigh a lot, plus the water. They didn't want to crush Jelly.  I squatted down by Jelly and held his head in my hands while holding Scooter.

"Baby. Mommy's here. Boss is coming for you. When you see him, don't be scared. He is cutting down the walls inside. Don't be scared. I'm right here. Stay calm. You're doing great. You're such a big boy. I'm so proud of you. We'll get you out. Don't worry. Don't be scared. I'm right here."

I was barely holding it together at this point. The only thing making me stay calm was knowing that Jelly couldn't hear how scared I was. How worried I was that he was hurt from the 12 foot fall. How worried I was that Boss would accidentally cut him while he was breaking down the walls.

"I've got him!" I heard Boss yell through the canvas. I rushed to the back of the slide to see them unzip it and Jelly be thrust out into Honey's arms. Boss literally dove out of the opening headfirst into the arms of the crowd while men were trying to hold the collapsing canvas up.

I turned around to Jelly, who looked hot and sweaty, but ok. He didn't cry at all. I hugged him. Someone got him a drink. He was ok.

I knew the best way for kids to quickly get over trauma is to let them talk about it as much as they need to. So we talked about what happened a whole lot.  Jelly fell down the hole, but didn't get hurt because the inside of the slide wasn't hollow. He tried to climb back up the to the hole, but wasn't strong enough. He had yelled and cried, but no one had heard him. (I think this is the part where Honey and I were running around trying to find him.) He heard people telling him to go to the back, but he didn't know where that was or how to get there. He was scared we would leave without him, not find him. Forget him.

He asked to take a picture of the slide so that we wouldn't forget what happened to him. He said, "I don't ever want anyone to fall down that hole again."  We told him over and over that it was going in the trash. No one would play on it ever again. Boss had cut down all the walls to find him. It was broken.

I reassured him it wasn't his fault and he hadn't done anything wrong. I told him I would never ever forget him. That he had done the right thing by staying still in one spot and being calm. I told him that him falling wasn't supposed to happen; no one knew that would happen. I told him everyone was looking for him, that lots of people came to rescue him.  I took him to Target and let him pick out a toy for being so brave (and to assuage my own guilt.)

It was scary and awful. I'm glad he is ok. He might not have been. But he is.

And Boy Am I Tired...

So! I have just completed my 5th month of being a real librarian-person-thing. I know my presence here went whoosh, like someone blowing out a candle. I knew there would be an adjustment period, but I didn't know that Monstro from Pinocchio was going to swallow my life whole.

Have I mentioned that I love it?

Oh, not every second. There have been times when I have cried in my office out of frustration and anger and sadness. There have been more bodily fluids involved than I would have realized. But there has been color and magic and jingly bells. There has been the ability to give something at the moment they need it most. There has been many many instances of 'thank you' and laughter. I am so glad I did it.

I have missed being here though. I think it was Marie Green who said, "If I don't write it down, I don't remember it" or something of that ilk. Lately I have been desperate to have memories because I feel like my life is speeding down the Autobahn at full tilt. I am missing the details. Honey and I will sit together and I will wrack my brain to remember baby stories for Jelly Bean. I remember so many things from Brother, but not as much from the second two boys. Of course, there is guilt and shame and "you're going to miss this" running through my head.

Actually it is a little more complicated than that. I worry I *won't* miss it. I won't remember enough to miss how Jelly's every art piece was of Plants vs. Zombies or his new found lurve of cheese pizza. Or how Brother's hair is so long and looks like he stuck his finger in an electrical socket because of the chorine exposure from swimming every day at camp. Or even how at not quite two, there isn't one word Scooter won't attempt or say.  He is really the most verbal of my three kids at this age. I need to start keeping track of my memories in some way so that when I am older and my babies are gone and my life has been longer, I can remember...everything.

Thievery

Jump on the bandwagon! All the cool kids are doing it!

A to Z

A. Age: 31

B. Bed size: King, but I am looking to downsize. For years we slept on a full (!!!) They say smaller beds equal happier marriages. All that close contact, I suppose. *Insert waggly eyebrows*

C. Chore that you hate: The cleaning of the things. All of the things, everywhere. And yet, I fuss loudly when the house exceeds the acceptable level of filth.

D. Dogs: Nope. Dogs - 0, Allergies - 1

E. Essential start to your day: Hm, I don't know. I don't have one thing I have to do absolutely every day. Other than opening my eyes. So, "Opening of the eyes." Final Answer.

F. Favorite color: Teal, bluey green. Also the color of the water in Destin Florida. Breathtaking.

G. Gold or silver: Silver

H. Height: 5'6

I. Instruments that you play: I play nothing. But I always wanted to...

J. Job title: Today, Resource Center Coordinator. Next Monday? Branch Manager. SQUEE!

K. Kids: Brother, 11. Jelly Bean, 5. Scooter, 18 months.

L. Live: South. Where it is hot and the azaleas bloom. Where there is jazz and file gumbo and genuine Mardi Gras.

M. Mother's name: Biblical female name. There aren't that many.

N. Nicknames: MisMarie. Which is what my mother called me when exasperated, but not angry. If anger was involved, the whole thing busted out: MISTY MARIE!

O. Overnight hospital stays: Just to birth the kiddles.

P. Pet peeves: Repeating myself. Me no likey.

Q. Quote from a movie: I am not much of a movie watcher. But! "You people make my ass twitch" From French Kiss, which is my favorite movie. Yes, I know it is one of those movies you are not supposed to like, but you do. Well, I do. (I also love You've Got Mail. HA! I have no taste.)

R: Right or left handed: Right

S: Siblings: It's complicated. I have two half-siblings, but mostly consider myself an only child.

T. Treat you adore: BAKED GOODS. Oh, Baked Goods. How I love thee. Let's run away together and enjoy fits of exuberant decadence. *Ahem* Oh, sorry. Forgot you were still here. Next!

U. Underwear: SaLy says: functional. Can I get an AMEN?!?!

V. Vegetable(s) you hate: Hm, I like veggies. But not sauerkraut. Is that a veggie? Picked veggie. It's the best that I can come up with.

W. What makes you run late: Underestimating the amount of time something will take. I am chronically late. It is an unfortunate personal characteristic.

X. X-rays you've had: Just the teeth. But I have had bazillions of ultrasounds for ze bebes.

Y. Yummy food that you make: I am a good cook and make lots of yummy things. Everything I touch turns to GOLD! Ok, not completely. But I have a knack for making good pairings and smelling spices to determine what goes well together. Tonight we are having PW's Chicken Spaghetti, which is the ultimate creamy chicken casserole and if you haven't made it YOU SHOULD.

Z. Zoo animal: I love monkeys because they are usually so animated and personal. I like birds, too. Like aviaries where you feel like you are really surrounded by the habitat. I am also fond of giraffes because they are just beautiful and gentle. I guess I really just like the zoo.

Finite

My mother's mother passed away last week. I am a bit melancholy about it, but not really sad. I am sad for the situation. I am sad for my mom. But I am not sad for me. Don't cry for me, Argentina.

She and I never really had a relationship. She didn't send birthday cards or call and speak with me. She was only ever important to me because she was important to my mother. And just about every child loves his or her mother, even if the mother is kind of crappy. (My mom is great, for the record.) My grandmother's memory was always poor. She was relatively pleasant to me as an adult and when I was a child, she treated me about the same as she treated all children, which was to basically ignore them.

I have a single positive memory of her, but many negative ones. The only good thing I remember is this: When I was about 10 years old, I visited her by myself. I am not sure where my folks went to. I had just moved South and missed my Ohio so much. It was Christmastime and snowing big fluffy flakes. She bundled me up in a bunch of old clothes and bundled herself too. We went out and played in the snow. It was a nice packing snow, not too wet. We had snowball fights and made snow angels and rolled up giant snowballs, too heavy to lift into a snowman. My grandma wasn't the kind of lady who played with kids. So as far as a good memory, it is a pretty awesome one. I will always remember the one time my grandma played and laughed with me.

There was a lot of turmoil in that house. She and my grandfather had a snippy kind of relationship where there was always contention. Even when they weren't angry, they yelled. But they were married for over 50 years. I did a photo montage for them for their 50th anniversary. My grandmother was beautiful when she was young, like we all are. Pictures always seem to show the happiest of times. She was always smiling, surrounded by smiling people. These were the people I came from. I have some respect for that. Even if we did not have a good relationship, I came from her. Her genes are in me and in my children.

She had a long terrible battle with cervical cancer. The third woman in my family felled by the disease. A cancer that rendered her unrecognizable and in horrible agony. I want to talk my mother into a preventative hysterectomy, and maybe even myself. I don't know if that is smart or wise or even effective. I am glad my grandmother is no longer in pain. No one should have to endure that.

She leaves behind four children, 10 grandchildren, and 10 great-grandchildren that I know of. My children and I are in that group. I am not sure what I want to say. The lesson she has taught me with her life is this: To live my life as to be remembered with fondness. To build happy memories with my children because it matters. And to keep up with my annual lady visits. Amen.

Muchness

I am a librarian, although I have been known to call myself a poser, since I don't work in a traditional library. I have spent the last nearly 9 years of my life in my current job. It has been an awesome job. I have flexible hours, good pay, great co-workers, the best professional benefits I have ever heard of. It is a social change organization, so there is a lot of "We are changing the world!" kind of sentiment. I kind of never really felt it. It was a job that had few bright moments. Even when I did a great job and someone thanked me for helping when no one else would, it was always tainted with horror of what had happened to them that no one would help with. What had happened to make them call me in the first place.

Last October, the library system in the next county was looking for a Children's and Teen Coordinator. A real library position. I love Children's literature and consider myself a YA Fantasy junkie. I could be creative, make people smile, and sing and get paid for it. Even though I was working in a special library, I still kept my professional knowledge up to date as best I could. A friend of mine helped me build a nice, library-focused resume. I got an interview. It went...ok. I felt tongue-tied and stupid. I felt like I didn't answer the personal questions very well. I was so terribly nervous.

I felt like this was my shot, my only shot, because my local county library system didn't hire MLIS degreed librarians for the most part. I kept tabs on what was going on with the administration there and for most of the time, it was pretty chaotic. Sometimes there wasn't a single professional librarian in the system. Then, they hired a new director in late 2008. I immediately noticed the change. Innovation. Progress. I sent him an email letting him know that I could tell he was there and thanking him for his service. I had no hope for our rural library system. He planted some in me that maybe, there was potential. Maybe things could get better.

The interview for the Children's position went better than I had anticipated and I got called back for a second interview. By then, cold feet had set in. It was a HUGE pay cut. There would be evening hours for programming. There would be a pretty stringent schedule because if you tell a community of pre-schoolers that storytime is at 10 AM on Wednesday, your butt had better be there. Plus, there was a commute when I have no commute now. And my kids are still little. I withdrew myself from the interview process. I didn't even have to guts to see if I could get the job. I walked around like a kicked puppy for months because I had lost my "muchness." I had been much more muchier, you know. Now, I was terrified to live my life.

But I still had a good job to comfort me. Nice paychecks, good leave policies. I focused on getting us through our annual conference.

Then in late December I noticed a job ad for my local library system. A professional position at the library right down the road. I hesitated for about 2 minutes before deciding to try again. I could work for this great Director. I could do something special. I could be a "real Librarian." I sent in my resume and got an interview. This time, it felt like magic. I felt confident I could answer all of their questions with ease and professionalism. This was a different position, one requiring more networking and overseeing of programming, rather than actually doing the programming. It was very similar to the position I currently hold. It is right next door to Honey's office. The interviewer asked why I would want the position with such a significant pay cut. I said I wanted to be apart of the positive movement in my community. I wanted to have the opportunity to be creative and help people in a new way. When I got out of the interview, I felt great. I felt like, I had given it every ounce of enthusiasm and knowledge I had. If they chose someone else, that was FINE. Because that person would have to be completely totally awesome to be chosen over me and I wanted the very best candidate in the position. I had done my very very best.

When I got to my car, Honey left a note on it that says, "I know you did great! I am so proud of you. I love you!"

I am going to frame the note and put it in my new office. I got the job.

Later when contemplating this rapid change of events, I thought of a few lines near the end of Barbara Kingsolver's Prodigal Summer. It was a thought Lusa had to herself after receiving the price she would get for her goats.

"By her wits she had made something succeed here, where there seemed to be no hope...She'd have to be resourceful for the rest of her life...She was going to be a woman men talked about."

It doesn't all quite fit. But it brought tears to my eyes. Perhaps I am a Librarian, after all.

Scooter Can!

For posterity.

Things Scooter can say:

Thank you
Nurse
Bite (As in, can I have a bite?)
Cute
Chew-Chew (Our baby word for a pacifier)
Uh Oh
Hi
Hot
Puppy (just about everything thing with fur, including the hamster.)
Kitty
Book
Poop
Pee
Daddy
Mama
Popo (That's Grandpa)
The sitter's name
His brothers' names
And of course, the ever present, "No."

He also dances, but he frequently spins in a circle when he dances. Supremely cute. None of my kids ever did that before. He gives big open mouth kisses and loves to rest his head on a shoulder when he is just waking up. He loves to go outside and cries at the door whenever anyone leaves without him. (And seeing as we had to turn on the air conditioning yesterday because it was 80 degrees in the house, it has obviously been nice enough for him to go out. Aside: Have you seen Winter? Apparently, January is Springtime this year.)

Scooter also has a hard time with anyone not sharing their food. Sometimes he really can't have any due to dairy content. It is impossible to explain to him at this age. *Sigh* He also loves to play in Jelly's room, much like Jelly loves to play in Brother's room. Both older brothers dote on him.

He is exceptionally beautiful and a bit on the chubby side, even though he is hovering in the tenth percentile, just like Jelly. He has a great smile that crinkles up his whole face, kind of like Brother. His laugh sounds just like Jelly's did at this age. Although, while Jelly was a big time Biter, Scooter has chosen slapping as his aggression of choice. Hands are not for Hitting, anyone?

Sleep & Dish

Remember how I said just a few days ago how I would be sad when the baby weaned? This morning, after getting up with him 4 times and letting him sleep in our bed for 2 hours, I am pretty damn ready to be DONE DONE DONE.

That is just the sleep deprivation talking. Don't mind me.

And get this. I win at being a total louse. Honey worked until 12:30 AM, and I still required him to help me with the baby twice because I couldn't get the little bugger to let go of me for one second. Consequently, this morning, Scooter shot dirty looks at Honey and clung to me like a monkey.

~~~

So, when I was growing up, there was a ton of little girls (and only little girls - no boys!) in my neighborhood. This morning, one of these little-girls-now-grown-up messaged me and a few others to say: We should have a reunion! Well, sure. Why the hell not? It is just dinner. Most of us have kids and while I didn't always get along with some of them, we were teenagers and teenage girls are evil at times. Myself included.

Except for one person invited. A person who already said she would go. A person I pretty much detest. Let's call her Helga.

Why my strong anti-Helga sentiment? I shall tell you. Picture this. Remember my very best friend from childhood, Friday? Who worked with me for a while? Probably not. But still. Friday and I still communicate from time to time. We are still friends, but she lives in the city and we are both busy. We work in the same field. I saw her at our conference. Anyway, Friday and I had another comrade. Helga. People used to call us the three musketeers. We were BFF4eva.

Helga and I went to the same high school. I drove her to school everyday. I drove her to church every time we went (which was about...2-3 times a week.) We attended the same bible studies. Even after I left the church and had Brother, she went on a cruise with me and my family. We both eventually moved away from home, but to the same city. We used to go shopping. I would call her to chat. We were friends. When she got engaged, she asked me to be in her wedding. NOT as her maid of honor. She asked Friday to do that. But that was ok, really. (Aside: Friday had kind of a contentious relationship with Helga and didn't want to be her maid of honor. I totally spent hours talking her into it. "Sometimes you do things for the person someone was, rather than who they are now.")

Being in the wedding was important to me. We had been friends since we were 10 years old. I didn't (and still don't) have a lot of close friends... the kinds of friends who ask you to be in their wedding. And I had always wanted to be in someone's wedding.

Well, Helga was wrapped up with her new fiance and we didn't talk for a while. This just happens with new, shiny relationships. But time dragged on and on. By the time she started calling Friday to talk about getting dresses, I was 4 or 5 months pregnant. Friday told Helga and I never got a call about dress shopping. I never heard from her again until a wedding invitation arrived in my mailbox. She had decided she didn't want me in the wedding, but didn't bother to tell me that. I can only speculate that she didn't want a fat girl in her wedding pictures. Because I was still the same person who had been there for her for 15+ years. We haven't spoken in 7 years.

Anyway, I don't really want to go to dinner with her. I still have hurt feelings. But I do want to go. I also don't want to be the kind of person who behaves childishly, "I'm not going if Helga's going!" Jesus, can I please act my age, right?

Still. Uninviting someone to stand in your wedding without even telling them? That is kind of evil. I think I am justified. I am not even doing a very good job of conveying how close we were and how hurt I am and how inappropriate it was. I could try to ignore her, but I don't want to ruin the dinner for anyone else with my bad attitude. What would you do?

What it is like

...to nurse a 17-month-old.

I thought I would write this down, for posterity. While I would like to think that this may help others understand how it really is, I know that this is only how it is for me and this particular baby. Your mileage may vary.

I pumped at work until Scooter was about 14-months-old. This was 2 months longer than I pumped with Jelly. After this, I started him on soy milk due to the dairy allergy. Right now, I can feel our nursing relationship nearing the end. Now, he nurses once in the night and 1 or 2 times during the day, more on the weekends. Now, it feels more like more of a comfort for him and less of a food source. After I get off of work and go to pick him up and we finally get home during the week, he sometimes likes to nurse. I think this is because he misses me during the day and this way, he gets me to really sit down and focus on him, rather than run in a million directions.

He asks to nurse. He will spit out his chewie, hand it to me, say "Dainch you" (thank you!), and yoink my shirt up saying, "Urse! Urse!" I also ask him sometimes if he wants to nurse. I get both 'yes' and 'no' responses. Him communicating with me verbally is pretty thrilling. The during the day sessions last less than 5 minutes. He is really too busy to mess with sitting on my lap for that long. He is also very wiggly. I like to call it baby Yoga. He will twist himself around, or stand up, all while nursing. He has even managed to be able to nurse and lay his head on my chest but still keep an eye on what is going on in the rest of the room or check out what his brothers are watching on TV. In the night, the sessions last much longer, about 15-20 minutes and he is much more still. I think this is because he is halfway sleeping. I only keep him in bed with me while he is nursing because we both sleep better in our own beds. I like being able to stroke his hair and hold his little hands. Really be mindful of how big he is now and how much he has grown.

I plan on nursing for as long as he wants to OR until he is two. Jelly nursed until he was 19 months before he self-weaned, but he was far less interested in nursing overall than Scooter. Brother self-weaned at 12 months. I am half glad and half not-so-glad about still nursing at this point. Sometimes it feels like a pain in the ass and I can't wait for him to grow out of it. Other times, I am so glad to have this vestige of babyhood with my last baby. He is a busy kid, so having him want to be held and snuggled on my lap every once and a while is nice.

I know I will miss this when it is gone.

Dynamic Change

I have always been pretty close to my mom and dad. They are the only family we have in the state, basically. But over a year ago, everything changed.

My parents had kids.

Not in the typical sense. Through a long and complicated course of events involving absentee, substance-addicted relatives, other relatives suffering from dementia and dying of cancer, my mom and dad are now raising two teenage cousins of mine. A boy and a girl. Darla, who is 15, and Thom, who is 13. (Obviously not their real names, or did you think my kids were really named Jelly and Scooter? :) )

As you can imagine, this has changed our family dynamics quite a bit. It used to be me, my folks, and Brother. Then Honey came along. Soon after, Jelly and Scooter. We went out to eat on the weekends and my parents always treated. We went on vacation together. We had ready made babysitters almost whenever we wanted them. There was much "staying over at Grandma & Popo's house." My mom bought all of my kids' clothes. Most of that doesn't happen anymore.

I realize some of that makes me sound like a spoiled brat. Out to eat every weekend? It is ok that is gone, to be honest. My mother buying all the clothes? This was occasionally a cause of frustration because I *never* got to pick out anything for them and she buys wayyyy too much and the closets/laundry situation was unbearable. (I tried to reason with her about it. Her line was that she was the grandma and would do as she damn well pleased. Try arguing with that.) She still does buy clothes sometimes, but I most certainly have to contribute. Still, I had no idea how shocking it was going to be to go drop $180 on uniforms at the beginning of school. Ok. Spoiled. I know.

For a long time we all continued how we had been, but with two strangers tagging along. Strangers with issues. My folks had kind of let me raise myself in a lot of ways. My mother couldn't even tell you where I went to college or what my minor is in. She didn't have to. Now, my dad emails with every single teacher these kids have at least once a week. He is on a first name basis with many of their teachers. Now, my parents call me for parenting advice. With me, their "B-, C" game was fine. These kids require their "A+" game.

My parents have also changed as people, as well. My mother especially. She is far more stressed, far less happy, far more irritable than I can remember her ever being in my life. In a way, I think she is counting the years until they are both 18.

My parents wanted to have kids after me, but couldn't. It just goes to show you that sometimes life has a way of giving you what you thought you wanted, but it turns out not being what you wanted at all. I guess I am sounding pretty harsh. I am still a little bitter. My kids lost their grandparents, in a way. Jelly and Scooter will never have the grandma and grandpa Brother had. It feels like I have lost my mom and dad. They have been replaced by these folks who feel more like friends, equals. It is strange. In a way, this makes me feel less close to them.

The kids are getting better. Darla will speak to me now. It took a year. I think finally my folks have figured out enough ways to get them to do their schoolwork. I just hope that in the end, when these kids are my age, they realize what was done for them, how much sacrifice was made to get them through high school and teach them how to be decent human beings. To provide them with a life they could have never had. I hope they are saved. I hope their future is brighter for the time spent in my parents' home. Mostly, I want them to be thankful, although I know that is probably asking too much.

Big Brother

Alright. So, I know how everyone says, "You're kids are watching you!" Like they are Santa or Jesus on crack or something. But last night, I had a conversation with Brother that kind of blew my mind.

He knows me better than I know myself. Those foibles I have? He recognizes them as intrinsic parts of me. He knows them so well, he is able to poke fun at my foibles. I was genuinely surprised.

I go into his room late last night and he has a desk lamp he has twisted around so the light is indirect to the book he is reading, but is blasting right into the doorway. It is like a miniature sun burning out my retinas. I say to him, "What? Is this some sort of defense mechanism?" And he takes this statement and runs with it...

"Yes. While the bad guy is blinded, I can yell: Murderer! Call the police! Call the Army! Someone call somebody! And then I can throw things at him." (Mimics throwing things at fictitious bad guy)

Me: My, don't you think that is a bit dramatic?

Him: Yes (waggles eyebrows) but I want to be just like you.

Me: What is that supposed to mean? (Red Flag. Red Flag.)

Him: (pretending to read a book, being me)

"What's that noise?"

"Is someone knocking at the door?"

"You better go check."

"Are you sure no one is there?"

"Let's lock it just to be safe."

"Where's your brother?"

I am not sure how to convey how he displayed my general anxiety about the universe, but he did. And then he laughed and I laughed (I was embarrassed/sheepish, mostly). I gave him a great big hug and a kiss and told him he wasn't supposed to notice how neurotic I was because he was supposed to think I was perfect.

He told me I was perfect enough for him. I shut off the light.

Goodnight.

Do

There are a few things I would like to do this year. I don't have them all hammered out into resolutions just yet, but mostly, this year, I just want to do things.

Travel: There will be a Disney trip in 2012. There will be a weekend in the city for Honey and I. There will be a beach trip. There is also a threatened visit from my brother and his daughter. Fun will be had. I am excited.

House: I always have massive plans and wants for the house. But this year, I want to get baseboards in the addition. (Sadly, they are still absent. *Hangs head in shame*) and...completely finish redecorating my bedroom. Yes, that right there. A serious goal mostly because it involves a new bed and furniture and paint.

Create: I want to learn to paint/refinish furniture. We have a lot of wood pieces that I don't like. Instead of getting rid of them completely, I would like to see if I can't give them a makeover. Not sure how this one will turn out.

Move: I want to find a form of exercise I love. I might join a gym with a pool and a variety of classes. But I probably won't do it until February to avoid the January resolution crowd. I am also back on the wagon as far as WWs goes and really glad about it. When left to my own devices my food choices leave me sluggish and frankly, queasy. Plus, I would like to be able to wear all my clothes again, not just the roomier ones.

I might print this out again like last year to try to help me remember the things I want to DO. But right now I am going to go swing in the backyard with Jelly instead of sitting and reading a book. Do.