Long weekend

I took yesterday off because I went to a concert Sunday night out of town and we stayed overnight. It was a Christian rock concert, which I don't typically listen to, but the show was simply amazing.
We got all the energy and power of the music and the fans and musicians with none of the drugs, egos, bad attitudes, etc. that you usually see at concerts.


Everyone felt so connected and just....happy. It inspired me. If only I could hold onto that feeling for a month...a week...a day..
but it's so hard.



I was really feeling the demands of life last night when I got home. I was excited to see the kids, but didn't really get to BE with them. Emily had to rush off to gymnastics, dinner needed to be cooked, Caliana needed a bath. Patrick and I talked for a bit after dinner, and we're just both feeling in a rut right now. Everything feels in limbo. I know this too will pass, but I don't like being in limbo dang it!

Some Highlights of the weekend were:

-I ate out a lot and didn't blow my weight watchers diet
-We stopped at the IKEA store on the way home and stayed for like 2 hours
-I discovered Diet Dr Pepper doesn't taste much different than regular
-Patrick borrowed an original nintendo from his brother and I played Super Mario Bros. for like an hour last night
-Noah won this thing from those claw vending games, and once again we can't figure out what the heck it is, so yeah, any guesses, leave a comment.

Friday etc..

I have been following the Weight Watchers point system since Wednesday and it is hard, but I've already lost a pound so I think I'll stick with it for awhile. I'm 15 lbs from my pre-Cali weight and I am determined to get there. My wardrobe is mocking me and I just won't take it anymore. Clothes shouldn't be so snarky. They need to be put in their place.

I'm in a great mood today, even though my purse strap broke just as a I left the house and then after I put Cali in her carseat, my hair got stuck on the "dry cleaner hook" in the car and I squealed like a little girl. I think I'll go buy a new purse at lunch.

Caliana is experimenting with names and nicknames recently. She's taken to calling us Bandi and Pachick when she's talking about us to other people and she's started calling everyone "Honey" (which she picked up from me) and it is absolutely adorable! I fall all over myself every time she does it.
Here she is with her uncle Noah


I hope everyone has a great weekend. Mine is going to be fabulous, because I command it to be so.

Bridging the gap

When it comes to parent-child generational gaps, the one between Emily and I is not very large. 18 and a half years to be exact, but alas, the time of my childhood (80's) is now considered retro. Emily has developed a great fondness for many icons from my past though, which gives us some awesome bonding material, and helps me stay young.

When Emily was 2, we used to go to the local video store every Tuesday. Tuesday was Kids' night and you could rent 2 kids movies for FREE. Yes, that's right F-R-E-E. Since we had just moved out of my mom's house and I was brand new to the world of "paying my own bills", that price was unbeatable. They had a pretty tidy little selection of kids movies, including about 7 Rainbow Brite videos. If you don't know who Rainbow Brite is, you can just leave my blog now, I have nothing to say to you.


My baby Emily fell promptly in love, and we watched hours of adventure in Rainbow Land together (that is until she discovered Barney, and I opted for more entertaining activities, like scrubbing the toilet. Ok, that's a lie, I was probably sleeping.)
Anyways, she still has a fondness for Rainbow Brite, and even dressed up as her for Halloween when she was 6. Most of her friends had no clue who she was, and she was baffled. Who doesn't know Rainbow Brite? Exactly my dear.

Next came Care Bears. Care Bears had quite the retro comeback, so they were everywhere, and for a couple years, they were also everywhere in my house. I think they released 12,000 different ones and every one came with a video.

We stopped at about 20. Every Christmas and Birthday we would get phone calls from relatives to find out if Emily already had this one or that one. We only ended up with duplicates twice. A couple years ago, she traded the whole collection to a neighbor boy for some Pokemon cards.


We're also halfway through the first season of Punky Brewster, and Emily has great plans for Cali for Halloween in a few years. She'd do it herself, but Punky has dark hair. What a shame.

A few days ago we were sitting in the Taco Bell drive thru and I had to pee major bad and I was sharing.
"Oh MAN, I have got to PEEEEEEE! Hurry up car, just get your damn chulupa and go, this is a potty E-merrr-gency" (A la Wacko from Animaniacs (once again, if you have no clue, just....go...get out of here)).
Emily was looking at me like I was nuts, and I was like
"what, that's how Wacko says it"
"who?"

I added some Animaniacs to my Netflix Queue.

She is well versed in the icons of her own generation also, but she'll be the first to tell you that she does NOT like Hannah Montana and she doesn't get what the big deal is about her. She does really like Pokemon and Littlest Pet Shop, and Avril Lavigne, but I can't help but feel pride when she asks me to add Def Leppard and Journey to her Ipod. She's her mother's daughter.

And yes, we've already started the Care Bears brainwashing with Caliana....we have over 20 videos people, someone has to watch them.

I get it

I'll admit, I've judged, I've mocked, snickered and rolled my eyes...at other parents. They're typically called "soccer moms", at least around here, but they're there in every sport and activity, helping, cajoling, pressuring, buying private lessons, equipment to practice at home...and in some cases going way too far.
But I understand. I totally get how they can be swept up. It feels wonderful when your child succeeds at something, and in this world of competetive parenting, where we're all feeling at least a tad insecure, it's like getting a parenting gold star.

Last night at cheer practice, Emily landed her front flip. Her face lit up, and she looked not to her coach, or to her teammates, but to me, with that look in her eyes, that one that says "Did you SEE what I just did!" and the thrill of it shot from her eyes to mine, and I shared her victory. I flashed her a giant grin and a thumbs up... and I patted myself on the back. The confidence that I could see radiating from her across the gym is one of the great rewards of parenting. Sharing in their successes, from the first time they roll over to watching them thrill in the birth of their own children, I imagine it never gets old.

I'm still going to do my best to encourage and not pressure, and to help them make choices, not force my choices on them, but in that moment, I understood.

Behavior chart part 2

After Emily's terribly disappointing wheel spin last week, I was nervous when Damien finally reached 100 on Saturday. He spun the wheel, and ta-da!!..........ice cream. I braced myself for refusal, crying, begging for something else, but no. My good boy just said
"Cool, ice cream!"

We went last night, just the two of us. We debated the whole ride over about the number of scoops this reward was worth. Usually one is plenty, but I was willing to go for two since this was special. He wanted 3. I knew he probably couldn't eat that much and warned him that if he did he'd probably end up puking it back up, and who wants regurgitated mint chocolate chip? Nobody, that's who. But I finally relented and let him try.

He skipped around Baskin Robbins picking out his flavors while the teenager behind the counter waited with eyebrow cocked holding his giant waffle cone. She must have thought I was the most over indulgent parent ever, cheering him on...
"Sure, whichever ones you want, it's your ice cream...yeah you can have toppings."
I tipped her 2 bucks.

The result was one monstrocity of a drippy ice cream cone with neon ice cream and one happy kid.




I got myself a kid cone and we ate outside on a bench next to a fountain. I ended up dumping two scoops of "weird tasting" ice cream in the trash so Damien could get at his old favorite mint chocolate chip, but I never said "I told you so." The sugar eventually got to us and we ended up running around the fountain and doing "pretend ballet" moves on top.

A homeless man about 60 was sitting in the corner near a building watching us, and I found myself wondering what he was thinking. Did he have fun carefree outings with his mom when he was a boy? What choices or circumstances had brought him to where he is now? Where would my little boy end up? I just soaked up every smile, every giggle, and prayed for the best.

Sheep assassin on the loose

I started this blog for myself mostly. I wanted a place to write and to document my life, and I'd read a few blogs recently that had inspired me. And it is great for those reasons, but I've come to find that a blog serves another, greater purpose. This world is seriously weird, and sometimes we encounter some strange happenings, when no one else is around. And people, some of that shit just needs to be shared with anyone who will listen....or read as the case may be.

I live in the wine country in Northern California. Sound kind of pretentious? It can be. It's one of the most expensive places in the country to live, so there is definitely no shortage of Lexus SUV's driving around. However, we're also not far from San Francisco and Berkeley, so there is a fair share of what I call the "granola crunchy" population. You know the kind, they wear only organic cotton, never shave their armpits, and drive around with bumper stickers that say "Earth first, we'll screw up the other planets later" and "grow your own dope, plant a Bush"

A few days ago I was behind an SUV with the license plate VGN MOM
My first thought was "virgin mom?" How is that possible? Maybe she adopted? Maybe she's a stepmom? Haha. Ok it took me a minute but I finally understood, Vegan mom! Aha! This woman is paying $50 a year to flash her dietary choices at us. Good one. Do I feel bad riding behind you eating my egg and sausage Mcmuffin, no, sorry, I love me some pig and chicken.

This is all pretty typical for this area, so I was quite taken aback (to put it lightly) when I was behind a truck on Friday that had a license plate frame reading "Eat Lamb, wear wool"
What. The. Hell.
This woman obviously has a vendetta against the woolly population. All I can gather (get it? Wool...gather. I know right? Where have I been all these years?) is that her family are sheep farmers and she's trying to drum up more business. Either that, or she has a psycho hillbilly husband with a ewe fetish and she's trying to eliminate the competition. If the latter is the case, she should be more clear and just have it read "Support monogamy, Shoot a Sheep"

10 years ago

Today is my mom's birthday. Happy Birthday Mom!!
It's also the day I found out I was pregnant 10 years ago. I was 17, 3 months out of high school, lived at home and worked at a movie theater. My boyfriend was also 17, I had known him exactly 1 month and 1 day, and had lost my virginity with little fanfare exactly one month earlier, on the kindergarten playground of an elementary school. The same school coincidentally where my children now attend 1st and 4th grade.
I was not using birth control and should'nt have been surprised, but I was. I cried for about 5 minutes, and then with the supreme optimism that only teens can possess, I decided everything was going to be great. I owe a lot of that mental ease to the extreme support I was given (thanks mom!).
Surprisingly my teen romance lasted 4 1/2 years (but that's another story for another day), and I have no regrets. Who possibly could, I mean look at this face!



Here's to 10 years, and my transition from kid to mom.

What the hell?

Yesterday was the Walk-a-thon at the kids' school. They had a little carnival and Emily brought me a present. Picked it out especially for me because of it's name. I know it's with a "y" but it's the thought that counts.



What I want to know is.....what the hell is this thing? No one seems to know. She got a perfectly normal looking lion and elephant for herself, so I know it's not one of those. Leave me a comment with your guess, maybe someone is smart enough to figure it out.






Have a great weekend!!

Random

Patrick worked late last night. I got all kids in bed just before 9, grabbed myself a vodka and orange juice (ok, it was sunny delight, but close enough) and headed up to bed to veg.
I love me some 80's teen movies and I had just received "Heathers" from Netflix (Shannon Doherty, Winona Ryder and Christian Slater anyone?).
A third of my drink and a half hour later and I was dozing, only to be rudely awakened by my "screwdriver delight" pooling in my lap and slowly soaking through my blankets, making it's way down to freeze my warm cozy hiney.
Patrick got home just as I whipped off my soaked pants. Perfect timing babe. I finished what was left of my drink as he changed the bedding and tucked me back in. This is why I married this man.

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I stopped at Chevron to get coffee this morning. I know it's not Starbucks, but I don't need $5 coffee, chevron can caffeine me up just fine. Anyways, right as I walk in this guy stops in his tracks and just stares at me. What, do I have a booger stuck to my cheek? If I do, it's probably not mine. I walked around him to get to the coffee and he turns around and keeps staring.

Weird guy: Do I know you?

Me: Oh boy here we go "I don't think so"

WG: You look really familiar, what's your name?

Me: Not buying it dude "Brandi"

WG: Still pretending to try and place me "Hmmmm, can't quite figure it out, how old are you?"

Me: *eye roll* "27"

WG: Oh well, I'm an old guy, I'm 34.

Me: You'd think by 34 you'd learn to look for a wedding ring (no comment)

WG: Not giving up "where are you going Brandi?"

Me: Just let it go man "work"

WG: "Where do you work, make this easier" (Seriously he said that!)

Me: No answer, raised eyebrows at the cashier

WG: (As I'm paying for my coffee) "Hey could you give the cashier an extra dollar, I owe her a dollar

Me: Are you fucking kidding me dude? "Uh, no."

He finally leaves the store and as I'm leaving he yells "Hey Brandi, come here"

(What, you thought the whole dollar thing would interest me in being your sugar mama? Not a chance buddy) "I gotta go"

I was afraid he was going to follow me to work. Psycho.

I need a nap

I was walking by a coworkers desk and she had one of those phone memo pads with the clever sayings. Hers says "while you were goofing off" and then a bunch of space to write the message.
Well, as I was breezing by it caught the corner of my eye and my brain interpreted it as saying "while you were Getting off"
Bwahaha, I'm drinking another cup of coffee till I can remedy the sleep situation.

Potty mouth...sorta

I think I'm developing Tourette's of the mind. When I'm stressed or in a hurry and my thoughts are racing, I start spewing random obscenities to no one in particular. Things like "Eat a cock, you fucking dick hole" and "Bite me you carniverous twat" erupt from my brain with absolutely no forethought. Thankfully I'm still able to control my mouth for the most part and just release an occasional "hole" or "twat". I think the profanity section of my brain has a leak.

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We're one month into the school year and Damien's teacher sent me a note that says "Please call me, I think Damien could benefit from seeing our counselor." Perfect, 6 years old and we've already screwed him up. I think I'll blame Emily, there's only so much Care Bears one little boy can handle.
In all seriousness, he has dealt with some serious stuff in his young life and I'm sure he could benefit from talking to someone. I approved it. But if anyone asks, I still think it was the Care Bears.



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Emily is trying out for world's biggest drama queen. We keep a behavior chart for the older kids at home (I know, very suburban of me isn't it?). They can earn stickers for good behavior throughout the day and when they get to 100 stickers they get to spin the reward wheel (this was all Patrick's idea, I think he secretly longed to be a game show host). So Emily reached 100 last night and we let her give the wheel a spin. Her prize? She gets to go out for ice cream. Yay! I was going to take her to the mall for it, and maybe even shop around a little. You know, mother-daughter bonding over credit cards. Ha!
She got the most disappointed look on her face, and went straight up to her room. 10 minutes later I go to check on her and she is having a full out "Veruca Salt" tantrum complete with feet kicking and huge heaving sobs, because "that is the ONE that I DIDN'T WANT!"
Psh, now you get nothing Veruca. Spoiled much?

On a happier note, my dance class went pretty well last night. I think I'm figuring out the whole booty shakin' thing.

Living the life of a polygamist

Ha, not quite, more like a bad sitcom, titled "My two baby daddies".
For the past 6 weeks, my ex Dan (Emily and Damien's dad) has been staying with us. Why you ask? Something about he never grew up and learned to take care of himself, combined with my husband's insane southern hospitality (have I mentioned he was raised in Arkansas?) that requires him (read:me) to help everyone on the planet.

I have to admit it's not all bad. We always have a babysitter, and if my kids want something and I'm like.. sleeping, I can say "go ask one of your dads". Hey, it takes a village....right?
Ok, I'll admit, it's weird.
But the kids love him, Patrick doesn't care, and I can't quite bring myself to toss him out on the street....at least not yet. Give me another few weeks.

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Emily the overachiever:

Like most oldest children, Emily thrives on accomplishment and attention. She hates to be wrong, she detests mistakes, and she wants to always be the best.
She was thrilled when her gymnastics coach called last night to request that Emily move up to her pre-competetive class. I know this is what she's been working towards, but I can't help but feel like we should slow down. Emily's cheer team starts it's competetive season next month, she just started the clarinet, she's just started 4th grade, which is a big transition from primary 3rd grade. She's now hanging out with 5th and 6th graders instead of 1st and 2nd graders. I don't know, I think it's all my issue, she's taking it all in stride. Oh, the whole reason I started talking about this is she just informed me that she was nominated for student council. I think it's great that she wants to be so involved, I just hope she doesn't burn out by Junior high.

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Recent additions to Damien's pet wish list:

- a jellyfish (so he can sting his enemies)
- a gecko
- a flamingo
- a two headed cobra (huh?)- he said I should be able to find one in the desert
- a squirtle (thanks to Pokemon frying his brain, he actually thinks a squirrel is called a squirtle)

Caliana don't take no sh*t

This little sweetie is my tiny little snuggle monkey. She's uber-precious and I love her to the very depth of my soul....but I thank the lord that I'm the mom and she's the daughter, and not the other way around. I'm scared for my unborn grandchildren.

Hair

For anyone that's known me any length of time, you know I keep my hair at about 3 different lengths.

1) Long

2) "Little house on the prairie" Long

and
3) "does that get in the way when you go to the bathroom?" Long


I've been needing a haircut for at least 6 months now, but since I actually wanted to go to a salon, and the kids always need something, it took awhile. I finally got to go this Saturday. Patrick stayed home with the kids and when I got back hours later he says
"what happened, did they cut them one at a time?"

Silly boy, you can't rush beauty of this magnitude.

Anyways, now my hair is just in the "Long" category. I wanted to go a little shorter, but I'm still pleased with the result.

Before:



After:

Riding in the car

I love my kids, I really really do, but riding in the car with them before I've had a chance to defrag from my day at work is enough to make me want to drive off the road, or at the very least turn the radio way up (sometimes this works, usually they just yell over it).
I totally understand their desire to have my attention after not seeing me all day, but it becomes almost a competition to them. Emily will say "mom" I say "what?" she tells me what she needs to tell me and I respond...right away I get another "mom" from Damien. Occasionally Cali will even pipe in with her own "mama, mama, mama" and it will go on like this untill my attention span is depleted.
I finally snapped at Damien yesterday because everytime he wants to ask me something, or tell me something he says "mom" and waits for me to say "what". If for some reason he can't hear me, or he's distracted by his own thoughts, it might go something like this:

"mom"
"what"
few seconds pass
"mom"
"WHAT?"
"I just wanted to ask you something"
(waiting, waiting)

"WELL FREAKIN ASK ME ALREADY, GEEZ I'M TRYING TO DRIVE HERE!!"

So yesterday I told him if he wants to say something to me, just say it, he doesn't have to wait for me to say "What"

It worked O-K. It went something like this:

"mom?"
.......
"mom?"
.......
"mom?"

(I'm biting my tongue and my ears are starting to steam)

"(he finally says what he wanted to say)"

Phew.

Mostly what he wants to talk about in the car is his pet wish list. We can't have pets where we live right now. The kids also aren't allowed to play outside in our complex anymore, so I keep telling them we'll move soon, so they can have a less stifled childhood. In Damien's mind, this means pets....and lots of them.
Every day he has new ideas as to what he wants. It started out innocently enough...a kitten? a turtle maybe?

It's started to get a tad strange though, here's a partial list of the animals my 6 year old would like to own:

-a salamander
-a porcupine
-an eel
-a seagull
-a baby elephant
-a monkey
-a cheetah
-a diamondback rattlesnake
-a tarantula

and this morning it was a baby shark.
I told him he should just buy a zoo. To which he replied "duh mom, I'm not a grown up yet"

Touche little boy.

Why Thursday is my least favorite day

By Thursday, the week already seems to have lasted 40 years, and big bummer, it's not even Friday yet.
Not sure why, but I've been in a blah mood all week. Probably a combination of money stress (both home and work) and the change in weather (from 90's to 70's). I actually like the cooler, fall-like weather, but I guess it can still mess with your psyche.

Last night I was plumb worn out. I tried putting Caliana to bed without any of the normal bedtime stuff....and she called me out on every thing I missed.

"bath mama?"

No sweetie, you can take a bath in the morning

"Book mama?"

Not tonight baby, I'll read you two tomorrow

"Kiss Hug daddy?"

Daddy's still at work, he'll kiss you when he gets home. Lay down now monkey-girl, want to hear a song?

"Mama, you seep my bed me, you Tye-owed mama"

That's right baby, I'm tired....maybe just for a minute.

Sweet baby, she forgives me.

Big booty shakin'

It was my idea to take a hip hop class. A couple of my coworkers/friends said "hey, great idea, we'll do it with you." I thought
-good way to get in shape
-I love dancing
-I can move my feet, and even my arms if you want, I've got style...major style...

But no, what they want me to move is my ba-donk-a-donk.....a lot. We started learning our routine last night and it has no less than 8 booty moves in the first 8 counts, and they don't stop there either. The whole routine (or what we've seen so far) is filled with big booty shakin maneuvers. Even the song is something about booty shakin'. So come January, I'll be wavin my big rump all around a stage for all kinds of strangers, friends, family, and maybe even coworkers to see, *gasp*. Wish me luck, maybe all the shakin' will tone the tush.

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Check out my brand spankin new click-y sharpie highlighters! These are the things that make my work day. Sad but true.

Busy with a capital B

When I was a youngster, my extra-curricular activities consisted of

- reading
- playing chinese jumprope in the kitchen
- swimming in the pool in our complex
- harassing my little brother

and other homebound activities that didn't require a uniform (unless you count the bathing suit), or being there on time, or my mom to drop me off or pick me up. I did have a great desire to take gymnastics because I longed to do a back handspring, but it just wasn't in the cards for me(or the pocketbook).
So in the grand tradition of living out our dreams through our children, at the ripe old age of 3 years old, Emily started gymnastics, wasn't she cute?


Thankfully for my conscience, she loves it. With a few breaks here and there, she's still in it. As is Damien. Friday nights we all head over the the gymnastics center for an hour. One hour a week, no big deal. A few months ago, Emily was moved up to level E. At our center this is the last level before it gets competetive, which means when she moves up again, she'll have practice 3-4 days a week and go to competitions. Yikes.
To prep for this level of commitment, we decided the cheer team was a good place to get our competitive feet wet. Emily loves cheer just as much (if not more than)gymnastics. It takes place at the same center, so now we're there:

Tuesdays- 5:30-7 (cheer)
Thursdays- 5:30-7 (cheer)
Fridays- 5:30-6:30 (gymnastics)

Yikes again! Emily took a hip hop class last year and really wanted to continue this year, but with school, gymnastics, cheer, and now clarinet, it's just too much.

I however, am taking a hip hop class of my own (hey, mom's need to have fun too!), Tuesday nights 7:30-8:30, so Emily gets to go straight from cheer to my dance class since I won't have time to bring her home.

What about Damien you say? He has gymnastics and in the past has done seasons of t-ball, and basketball. I was all set to sign him up for soccer, but both boys (Damien and Patrick) are lobbying for him to take karate. Double Yikes! I'm still on the "we'll see" about that, but basketball season is coming back around. There's just not enough time in the week. Lord help me when Cali joins the fray.

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And just for fun, here's a combo of me at 9, and my girl at 9..... pretty similar! Her forehead actually looks bigger than mine! Poor girl

Monday blahs

I am in an uninspired mood on this dreary Monday morning. The sky outside my window is the color of mashed potatoes, and inside the office we're all plodding along at our typical unhurried pace.
Patrick bought me a plant for my office a few weeks ago, even though I am terrible with plants. I never buy them. And despite my best efforts this is how it looked when I came in this morning.


I suck.

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Both my older kids had friend activity weekends. Damien got to spend Saturday at Six Flags with his friend Jackson. Surprisingly Jackson's mom said he behaved very well. Hooray. Emily was invited to go to Cal Skate with a 12 year old friend of our family and a few other girls. I was way nervous about this since no adults would be staying with them, but I finally relented. I spent a lot of time at the skating rink as a young teen myself. Emily did have a great time, and all went well, but I can't help but feel she's growing up too fast. Check out what I did to her hair this weekend

I know, I should be a hairdresser, right! Haha

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I'm going to try and boost my Monday mood with a few pics of the daddy/Cali love affair.

Face off on the first day (she won, and established her position as leader in the relationship) Doesn't he look intimidated?



They found a common favorite pastime


Freaks



Bums!



Nothing says love like sharing a gummy worm



Easter hunt


I know it looks like a hug, but really she has him in a headlock

TGIF

Yes, I am SO thrilled that it's Friday, even though it's only noon, and I have mounds of laundry and a plethora of other chores awaiting me at home, I can't wait to start my weekend. For some reason, all of the vendors looking for money think Friday is a great day to call me. I hate the phone.
I had to dress up a bit today, though Friday is usually my "dress like I just rolled out of bed" day. Patrick and I have a hot date tonight....at church. Woohoo! Cost us $20 which isn't bad for a night out, except I just found out that we don't get dinner with that (and I'm not counting on any beverages of the alcoholic pursuasion either). So what do we get? Dessert, live music, and a speaker? Looks like we'll be wolfing down a pizza before we go, and possibly a bottle of wine. Even if it sucks though, at least it will be a couple hours alone with my hot hubby, no kids in sight, and an excuse to break my diet and have some dessert.
Back to my outfit though, I'm wearing my favorite pair of black slacks, which despite my recent weight loss, is developing a hole in the seam of the inner thigh. Fabulous, like anyone wants to see the pasty, cheesiness of my inner thighs. Ok, it's not really that noticeable, but I can't help but wish I kept a sewing kit at work, so I could go sit my thong wearing behind on a cold toilet seat in the bathroom and fix my favorite pants.

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Damien's dr called. His blood tests were normal (which is expected right now), but turns out his Hep B vaccinations did no good and he shows no immunity, so we get to go in on Monday and get him a booster. Poor boy. At least he's not afraid of needles.

As for Emily and her extra curriculars, turns out we need to buy more than just a reed for her newfound love of the clarinet. We need to buy at least 3 reeds, a music book (who knows how much that will cost), a one inch black binder, and a pencil? Like specifically for music? Geez, when did band become so complicated? Not to mention, she has to tally all of her practice hours and I have to sign off on it. Bwahaha, we all know who's responsibility this will end up being. Because, while my oldest is incredibly smart, outgoing, talented, etc... she's also very blonde, and the expression most often uttered from her lips is "I forgot"... She was most definitely never an elephant in a past life.
She forgot her backpack at home, she forgot that her homework was due tomorrow, she forgot that flossing is what you do after brushing.
This morning as I was dropping her off at school I asked:

"when is the next time you have band"

She replied "today"

Puzzled, I said "you didn't bring your clarinet"

Her response "I know"

Hey, at least it wasn't "I forgot"

Money Money Money

They say not to let your life revolve around money....but I'm an accounting manager, what can I do? My whole job is about money. Everyone wants it, no one wants to give any. Everyone is struggling these days it seems. Work stress is easier to handle though, it's not my money, they're not my bills, and I get to walk away at 5:00.
Money at home is a different matter. Don't get me wrong, we can pay our bills, but things are definitely tight this week. I expected my refund check from the pilot academy tuesday or wednesday. At least the dashing of my dreams comes with some money back. Unfortunately, my check got missed and now it won't be sent untill the 12th. Big bummer considering we're running low on groceries, diapers, dishwasher soap and other essentials. I just may have to do a little borrowing this week...something I haven't had to do in awhile. Yuck.

In other news, Emily is starting the clarinet today. She is way excited. The school holds a lottery to determine which kids get the limited number of instruments that are available. The rest of the children have to get their own. I find this terribly sad, because there is bound to be at least one child who doesn't get to play because of money. Thankfully Emily's Aunt Jen still had her clarinet and was happy to pass it along, so we're all set. All I need to buy is a reed, and some earplugs.

sibling rivalry

She started it (please don't mind the carpet, it's on my to do list)

Getting a little crazy now

He tried using his superior strength and size

But she eventually showed him who's boss!!

And all the while, mommy is taking pictures. Don't worry, they were having fun, and no one broke anything.

Feeling like a failure

Emily and Damien are allowed to play outside by themselves. We live in a fairly nice complex of townhomes, where there are lots of kids. They know all the rules:
-no going beyond the boundary trees (keeps them away from the street)
-no going in someone else's house unless you ask us first
-respect other people's property (no tearing up bushes, throwing rocks at cars, kicking cats, etc..)
-don't talk to strangers

Somehow I forgot to tell them what to do if they find some junkie's garbage. My 6 year old found a syringe on Saturday. Since Damien is the epitome of curiosity, he took the cap off and poked himself in the finger with it. I Thank god he did not just throw it back down and go about his business, but brought it to me, and told me what happened. I've spent my fair share of the weekend sick with worry, complete with bouts of self-accusation and bawling (in the shower mostly so as not to worry the kiddos). The syringe is now on it's way to a lab for testing, and Damien has an appointment this afternoon with his doctor to do whatever we can for him. I pray that this one moment of childhood curiosity does not alter his life forever.