Some junking with Amy...

I was all set to tell you a thrilling tale of animal fur removal, utilizing my two prong approach of furminator and vacuum cleaner which is better than my previous method of swearing and duct tape. Instead I will tell you a story called, "Amy and Sara Go Junking".

This afternoon I called Amy and said, "Dude! Let's got to Global Thrift! I'll pick you up in ten minutes!" and she said, "Okay!".

This story is riveting already, isn't it?

When we arrived at the junk store and I immediately went to look at the furniture. There I saw something which even at first glance I knew I must possess. A small red desk. It was only 9.99, so I grabbed it and hauled it up to the register where the manager Mark guarded it with his life.  Meanwhile, Amy spotted a great mid-century dining room table and chairs which she had to furiously contemplate purchasing. She was still dithering about it when we were in the fitting rooms and I finally yelled, "Just get it!" because that's what friends are for.

Just look at this cute desk!

Here it is in its new home on the porch.

For now I put the round red table that was next to the chair into the basement. I also added some more fall decorations on the porch.

It was a day of red at the junk store because I also found these totally awesome boots. Know how much these babies run? $130. Know how much I spent? Less than $10!

Finally, I want to give everyone an update on Rebecca's health. The good news is that she has been fever free for about a week. The bad news is that she still has an ugly cough and sore throat. We went to the doctor yesterday and the new diagnosis is walking pneumonia. Rebecca is on antibiotics for it and we are hopeful that she will finally start feeling better soon. Thanks so much for all of the kind words and thoughts the past month.  I know that we have all really appreciated them!

Death, Electricity, Shopping...

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Actually, for me it was the best of times, for Lily it was the most unconcerned of times and for Rebecca it was the saddest of times. What single event could elicit such different reactions? It was the death of our last hermit crab whose name was (I think), Nemo. Nemo was part of a hermit crab dyad which David purchased for the children out of guilt about three years ago. He'd been working and traveling for months and he decided that pleasing the children with hideous pets was better than having me on speaking terms with him.

When he presented the crabs, the children were enthralled. For about ten minutes. I told David that these crabs were not going to be my responsibility because at the time we had four cats and two dogs and I was not to be held responsible for keeping one more animal alive in my house. For the first few years they lived in David's office, but in the last year they made their way into the house, though why this happened is a mystery.

It is benign neglect for which we have to thank for the crabs living as long as they did. We'd feed them, put some water in their tank, but generally they were ignored. Yesterday I realized that it had been a while since I'd heard Nemo plotting his escape so I took a closer look at him. He seemed unresponsive. I tapped him a bit and his claw came off.

My heart lifted! One less animal to maintain! Call me cold hearted, a mammal elitist- I will own these labels. The only thing I won't own are any more hermit crabs.

In other news, our cape trip has been postponed because my folks are still without power on the cape. They are fine otherwise and grateful that they are without power while the weather is warm and the grill is available. Still, I can't help but think that perhaps Santa should leave them a generator under the tree this year at Christmas.

Finally, I caught Lily in that rarest of moods. She wanted to go clothes shopping. Generally she's not much of a shopper, but today after sorting through her fall clothes from last year and realizing that she had outgrown nearly everything she was ready. We had most of our success at The Children's Place where I purchased six shirts and six pairs of pants for $104.00. That's only slightly pricer than the junk store!

Hope everyone is recovering from the hurricane and squeezing some fun out of the last days of August.

Je suis malade...

Sunday and Monday were all about being a grownup.

Doing stuff. Making it happen. Setting goals and making them realities.

My plan was to continue being a grownup everyday for the rest of my life and so this morning I got up, had some coffee and started the laundry. I came up with some grownup plans for my office nook, but the thought of executing those plans was exhausting. I decided to execute them another day.

Then I started putting the slipcovers on the chairs and sofa and felt very tired. And headachy. And my throat felt scratchy and I realized that my body was forcing me to stop being a grownup and get into bed.

I have been here ever since, popping motrin and cough medicine and killing zombies with plants.

Many of All six of my readers have been wondering about the state of Rebecca's Mystery Illness. This morning the pediatrician called to tell me that all of the results came back normal, even and most especially the one which would have pointed to some of the Big Scary Illnesses like cancer. We go back in to the doctor tomorrow for a strep test, even though it seems unlikely since her sore throat just started. Interestingly, my child has no fear of having blood taken at all. Since the age of three she has happily sat through blood draws like it was a walk in the park. Throat cultures on the other hand leave her shaking like jelly. Luckily our appointment is in the morning so she won't be worrying about it all day.

Lastly, I dreamt that it was Christmas eve and I had forgotten to buy a Christmas tree. I also dreamt about cutting my hair.

Now you know everything.

Not hacked to bits, but crazy none the less...

It turns out that being a grownup is exhausting. It requires far more energy to sweep stairs and clean the attic than it does to solve murders via Law and Order reruns and as such, I am both smelly and tired.

Remember that huge crap purge I did this spring? Let me tell you, it made a huge difference in cleaning up the basement (yesterday) and the attic (today). The attic only took about an hour since all that was really required was for me to put the luggage away properly and put away four bins worth of dress up clothes. I was quite pleased with myself, so pleased in fact that I had ice cream for lunch.

My most ridiculous project by far is my latest round of slipcover dyeing. I have finally found a Rit Dye recipe with which I am happy (1 package of scarlet, 1 package of wine) and have proceeded to buy out the local craft shops of these colors. This has required much driving around. This is the sort of project which cannot be accomplished without much swearing, not because it is particularly difficult (it requires almost no skill), but because the timing is critical.

The dye must be poured into the washer and allowed to agitate. Only after it has agitated a few minutes can the (already wet) slipcover be put in. Then the washer must be allowed to agitate vigorously. My washer only allows for a 15 minute agitation cycle which means that I must not become distracted by Plants vs. Zombies and forget to pause the cycle and allow the whole mess to steep like my mothers tea. (If you knew my mother you would understand this reference. Like a good woman of French Canadian lineage she makes her first cup of tea when she wakes up and allows it to steep for hours before she finally drinking it after reheating it in the microwave. I promise that right now somewhere in my mothers house, tea is steeping.) The longer the steeping, the better the color. Inevitably I become distracted by a dog, an email or my important job of killing zombies with plants and then I jump up, swear loudly and run down the basement steps to fling open the washer so that I am not a complete fabric dye failure.

Why do I get involved in such insanity? Because spending $40 on fabric dye is cheaper than buying actual new slipcovers and allows me to indulge in my English housewife fantasy. Why do I imagine that English housewives spend their days stirring pots of fabric dye? I have no idea, but it comforts me, so please do not tell me otherwise.

Today also involved the purchase and application of some spackle. I got the heavy duty stinky sort of spackle because the area in need of spackle happens to be the ceiling above David's CPAP machine and I felt that perhaps this was not an area in which I should skimp. 

Today I dyed three IKEA chair slipcovers. I still have the couch to do and I am sorry to say, I have run out of wine colored dye and will have to venture out again tomorrow for more.

We are on Day 17 of Rebecca's mystery illness. We should know more sometime this week when the blood work results come in, but in the meantime I am taking her out on short outings. To craft stores. Several times a day. A mother's love knows no bounds.

Lastly, you may remember that several articles of clothing had gone missing from around the house. The items in question were a bikini of mine, a bra and some of Lily's clothes. My experience as a reader of mystery novels told me that my things had been undoubtedly stolen by a mad serial killer and I was going to be hacked to bits any day. In turns out that all of the clothes were at my dad's house where I left them the last time we visited. Crisis averted.

Miscellany, sickness and squalor...

The last few weeks have been quite vexing here at Shiny Red Houses. Rebecca has been running a low grade fever for fifteen straight days. Her symptoms are primarily fever and malaise. We are onto our second round of blood tests. The first round came back negative for all of the usual suspects- lyme, mono etc. So now we wait for some answers next week. Meanwhile, Rebecca seems to be adjusting to her new life as a sick person. We've been taking short outings so that she doesn't get completely depressed by a lack of human contact.

This summer I have been trying to tackle a lot of the big house projects. Today David spent about three hours in a crouched position filling in the driveway cracks which were on their way to becoming a tourist attraction. Who needs the Grand Canyon when you've got your very own Driveway Canyon of Doom? I spent the day trying to beat back the squalor that has crept into every corner and crevice of the house. So much fur, dust and cobwebs. Where does it all come from? Why does the fur accumulate on the stairs? These are the questions which have no answers.

As part of my house beautification project I did a lot of painting. The kitchen cabinets all got a fresh coat, as did the bedroom doors. You know what I finally painted? The spots on the ceilings in almost every room where I did not do a great job of keeping the wall paint off of the ceiling. My most dramatic ceiling accomplishment involved sanding down the flaking paint off of the kitchen ceiling and repainting it.

I know how to live.

Summer is winding down for us. The dark comes earlier, the evenings are cooler. Our local beach closes next week and all too soon the sweet laziness of summer will end. This summer has been the perfect antidote to our busy spring. David's been home and we've all recovered from his two month shoot.

We've all started to look forward to fall a bit I think. The mornings warming up by the fire, the crunch of the leaves under our feet, time alone with the gorillas. I want the house projects done, so there are no distractions- only large concentrations of coziness.

In which I ramble...

It's August. It's August and I can feel summer slipping away from beneath my fingers. The orange pink fabric of summer is so fine that I can barely feel it as it pulls away. I think that what I appreciate most about summer is that the rest of the world is on the same sort of schedule that the girls and I are on all year. Homeschooling gives us time for sleep and friends, for lazy novel reading and an obsession with gorillas. This summer has felt like a gift, a breath in the midst of waiting and wondering.

This awareness of summer's inevitable passing also has me scrambling to get some projects done which I have been ignoring in favor of loafing. Top of the list are dealing with my yard (mulching, weeding, mowing) and repainting the bricks on my driveway. Some of my newer readers may not know that I suffer from a mental illness which compels me to paint things which no sane person would.

Exhibit A: The Driveway



See those bricks? I painted those on the blacktop of my never ending driveway and now the paint has faded and must be redone. Today I bought the paint so that must mean I am serious. Before I paint the bricks I must clean the fence. After I clean the fence I need to pull the weeds and clean the driveway. After I clean the fence, pull the weeds and clean the driveway, I need to fill in the cracks. Once those things are done I can begin to paint. Yay me.

There is one serious downside to summer. Maggots. I know, so many of my posts feature maggots, but I need some support here. Now look, I know I am kind of a lazy chick. I am prone to cutting corners, especially tedious ones. One corner which I cut involves the trash. When I take out the kitchen trash to put into the barrel outside, I close up the bag and tie it, but I don't double bag, or reinforce or do whatever the hell I am supposed to do to ensure that flies do not get into the bag and start families. The flies, quite simply, adore my trash. It is apparently the perfect place to raise a family. I know this because when I took out some trash tonight I nearly lost my dinner when I saw the maggots crawling along the sides of the trash barrel.  How do grown-ups prevent maggots in their trash? I have no idea. I am essentially a ten year old with a mortgage.

Would you like a child update while I am here blogging and everything? The kids rock. No seriously, they do. I feel this especially strongly because they are at camp all week and I am allowed the luxury of enjoying them from a distance for six hours a day. We have been continuing our school work throughout the summer. Rebecca is no longer crying over fractions and Lily has discovered home much fun rhyming poems are to write.

David and I are enjoying him being home. Two months is far too long for us to be apart. We are really not that sort of couple.

So there you are: Paint, maggots, loafing, fractions and true love. You?

A few junking treasures...

Lately I have been junking less. It has a lot to do both with the great junk purge of Spring 2011 and the sorry state of my checking account. Getting my house in order has made keeping up with it a lot easier and I am loathe to bring in more stuff unless it is six kinds of total awesome.

Last week I found myself with a few kid free hours so I went to Urban Renewals. I enjoyed browsing and scored a few things which were simply too good to pass up.

For Rebecca, I found a brand new North Face Denali Fleece in turquoise for $25. Now $25 is far more than I am usually willing to spend for anything at a junk store, but in this case I made an exception. This jacket is "the thing" for tweens and teens in our part of the country. Truthfully, I don't get it, but as someone who lusted mightily for Guess jeans and Coca-Cola shirts in the eighties, I understand the longing. At least these jackets are practical. They are super warm and comfy which they should be considering they retail for about $100.

For both girls I scored a Polly Pockets sized Hogwarts Castle for .99. It has secret passages, compartments, and is seriously cool for the Potter fans in my house. As a matter of fact, this blog post was written while Lily played with it next to me. That my friends is called a win.

In other news, we have returned from five days in the cape with my folks who fed us, spoiled us and got us through our last weekend without David. He arrives home on Thursday and our excitement is almost too much to contain. If you hear shrieks of joy on Thursday, it's just us, celebrating the return of our long lost love.

The great purge of 2011!

All winter long crap has been piling up all over the house. The worst areas are the basement, the attic and my future hoarders Rebecca's room. This weekend I spent many long and ugly hours hauling things out of the basement. I tried to be as ruthless as possible. The Little Mermaid birthday party supplies from Lily's third birthday- gone! The ten empty kitty litter boxes- gone! The slipcovers to furniture I no longer own- gone!

I put a lot of great stuff out on the curb and most of it was picked up by neighbors who know good junk when they see it. I also have a big pile to go to the consignment store next week and I am happy to say that while the basement is still a miserable pit of despair, it is slightly less horrible today than it was last week.

Yesterday I took the kids to Old Sturbridge Village for Homeschool Day. We had a complete blast- it was everything that is great about homeschooling. We learned a lot, made some new friends and got to enjoy a beautiful day outside. While there I received this email from David:

Subject: Rebecca's Room


Holy $hit, what a disaster! The frog tank is black!


I had been planning on tackling her room anyway, but it was funny to hear it from David, who usually does not notice that sort of thing. First I had a long talk with Rebecca. We talked about things; the keeping of things, the letting go of things, the not needing to keep every single thing you have ever looked at or touched. Then I sent her for the garbage bags and we got to work. We sorted through every one of her possessions and I am very proud to say that she got rid of a lot. Once we started it actually seemed to get easier for her. Once we had hauled bags to the trash and bags for goodwill, we were able to rearrange those things which she kept. We washed the floor, vacuumed the rug and declared it clean. She was very, very happy with her tidy room. How long will it last? I will keep you posted.

I will be tackling the attic this weekend. Plan on hearing swearing and watching the accumulation of garbage bags on the curb. Also, please send chocolate.

Birthday bloodshed!

You know, there are a lot of jaded twelve year olds in the world. They are too cool to care about things beyond their cell phone and pop music. They flip their hair and roll their eyes and make you want to smack them.

Rebecca, who turned twelve yesterday, is not that kid. She unselfconsciously gets excited about animals- especially primates. She reads about them, plays games about them and chatters about them. When I asked her what she wanted to do for her birthday she did not hesitate.

"I want to go a zoo with chimps!"

This request is why our family spent the day at Southwick Zoo yesterday. It was the closest zoo we could find which housed chimps. We began practicing our chimp calls last week. We perfected the "hoot" and the "ahh" sounds and were ready to make some new primate friends.

When we arrived at the exhibit we began making our calls.  The chimps completely ignored us. We hooted louder. The ignored us more completely. They played with each other and groomed. The baby frolicked around. The looked happy and healthy and wonderful- if not too cool for our overexcited calls. We watched the chimps for a while and then went off in search of some animals with whom we could interact.

We made our way to the tiger exhibit. The tigers were sleeping right at the edge of the fence, just four feet away from us. There was a wood fence, some grass and then a tall wire fence. Lily stood on the wood fence and dangled Teddy over the edge. At this movement one of the tigers opened an eye. When Lily started swinging Teddy back and forth he opened the other eye and stood up. When she began to swing him faster the tiger got into pounce position and was ready for fun!

It was at this moment that I warned Lily not to drop Teddy over the fence and just as the words left my mouth, Teddy fell to the grass and the tiger tried to catch it. The tiger hit his fence with some frustration and we devised a rescue strategy for Teddy. David ended up climbing the fence and reached over to retrieve Teddy who took his adventure in stride. "The tiger story will help me pick up babes." Teddy is a  bit of a cad.

After that near tragedy we resolved to be more careful with wildlife. In spite of this resolve, we were once more dealt a terrible blow. It all happened in the petting zoo. The petting zoo which is supposed to be a joyful place full of squeals of happiness and laughter was instead the scene of caprine induced bloodshed.

When they saw the sign for the petting zoo, the girls ran right in. I decided not to go into the arena because as I told David, "Goats are the devil's animal." The goats seemed to love my children. The followed them around and ate all of the corn which my children offered. Knowing my affinity for anything lactation related, Rebecca called over to me that the baby goats were suckling her fingers.

"It's so cute, mommy!" she cried.

It was then that her joy soured as I heard her utter, "Ouch! He bit me!" By the time she came over to me blood was pouring down her finger and was headed for her arm. She tried to be brave and did not blame the vile beast which drew her blood. A zoo keeper said, "Not again!" and brought over an antiseptic wipe and some bandaids. Rebecca held her hand in the air for a long time before the bleeding stopped.

Happily, the goat injury was the last calamity to afflict our happy family. Rebecca opened presents, received birthday calls and had steak for dinner.

When asked about her day, Rebecca declared, "It was the best birthday of my life!"

Happy Birthday, baby girl! You are the best!

Bran, needles, and retching...

This week David took our cat Stanley to the vet. Stanley has been trying to hork up a hairball for about a month. I'd been giving him hairball medicine every few days when the sound of him horking became too loud to ignore. I was loathe to spend money on sending the cat to the vet with something like a hairball, but the google warned that untreated hairballs lead to death and I did not want to be the woman whose cat died of an untreated hairball.

I love our vet. He is quirky and interesting.

I made David take Stanley to the vet because I did not want to be the one to truthfully answer the questions of just how long this cat has been gagging on his own fur. Since Rebecca, AKA The Informer was going along, I knew that she would spare no details of Stanley's pathetic retching and tell Dr. K that I have been ignoring his hairball distress for weeks.

So David and Rebecca brought Stan to the vet where the following things happened.

Stan was weighed. Verdict: Morbidly obese.

Stan was diagnosed with a hairball. Verdict: Add bran to his diet

Dr. K gave Stan an anti-inflammatory to soothe his inflammations.

Dr. K gave Stan acupuncture to realign his kitty energy.

Dr. K gave David acupuncture because Dr. K and David are kindred kooky spirits.

Results: Stan continues to retch, I am trying to figure out how to get my cat to eat more bran and David wants to make weekly visits to the vet for acupuncture.

My secret weapon...

So yesterday I went to the eye doctor ready for battle. I did my hair, put on lipstick and clutched my receipt. I knew that god was on my side when I scored a parking spot right in front of the office.

I approached the door. My heart was pumping. My palms were sweating.

And then!

I noticed that the office was closed on Wednesdays.

Talk about impotent rage. I was forced to go back home to do laundry and obsess over my plan of attack.

This morning I changed my strategy. I decided to bring my children with me so that if things went bad I could employ the "Bobby Goren" method of handling people. When Bobby is interviewing suspects he likes to wander around their space and pick up breakable things. Lily is particularly well suited to this sort of tactic.

When we arrived at the office, it started off with smiles. Clearly, the receptionist did not recognize me. I produced the broken glasses and explained that they had fallen apart after only four months of use.

"Well", she began, "They didn't just break. Something must have happened to them."

It is when I began speaking that I saw the flash of recognition, the awareness that dear god, that woman is back!


"My daughter," I said, "is a book worm. She plays no sports. She does not roughhouse. The glasses were inferior and broke."

She visibly recoiled and made noises about "checking the records."

That's right old woman, you check those records. New glasses will be mine!

"Lily!" I said, "Would you like to try on all of these glasses?"

"Good news!" she nervously trilled, "They are covered by a warranty!"

She then proceeded to search for a set of duplicate frames and locate the manufacturer in her roladex 

When that failed she disappeared into the back office to confer with the doctor.

While she was out of the room I took a peek at the records.

Lots of post it notes- one in red said, "Same mess as above!"

Finally she returned. They could not find another pair of frames. They would have to call me with further information later.

In the meantime, I have secured the prescription and will be ordering some cute 9.95 glasses from Zenni.

The moral of the story: Don't mess with a shiny red mama.

In which I get pumped up on rage...

Hello Readers,

Tonight I am writing to you from the state of All Worked Up.

Why am I All Worked Up?

It is a long and boring story, so I will try to give you only the important details in chronological order.

1. We have a great eye doctor for twelve years. Yay eye doctor!
2. We get vision insurance for the first time ever this year. Yay vision insurance.
3. Great eye doctor does not accept this insurance. Boooooohooooo our eyeballs!
4. Make appointment with 150 year old eye doctor who takes our insurance.
5. Become concerned that eye doctor is both outdated and controlling.
6. Order Rebecca's glasses anyway.
7. Fight with eye doctor about picking them up without Rebecca just prior to our Grand Canyon trip.
8. Assertively tell doctor that I am taking the glasses anyway.
9. Feel the eye doctor hate me, but enjoy having bullied him back.
10. Rebecca enjoys her glasses for four months until they break.
11. Commence swearing.

You know what this means, right? I have to go back and request that the glasses be replaced. I am also going to request a copy of her prescription so that I can order her some cheap but cute glasses at Zenni.

I do not think that he is going to give up easily. In fact, I predict a battle in which I have to summon my inner Julia Sugarbaker and demand that he either hand over the money, replace the glasses or prepare to feel my wrath.

No matter what happens, I expect to spend the night like a general preparing for battle, imagining the tactics, the weaponry and the sweet glory of victory.

Tiger Math!

We began school again this week, after what felt like a months long hiatus. Actually, it was a months long hiatus. Somehow between our Arizona trip, David's 40th birthday and the holidays we never really got back into a good school groove. That all changed this week when I sat the children down at the table and cracked the whip.

We began a review of fractions for my big girl who hates math. I understand hating math. I hate math too, so I bring a lot of sympathy to the table.

When Rebecca was moaning about fractions, I reminded her of her dream of working with big cats someday.

"Honey, the day will come when you will need to know how much medicine to give a tiger. You will need to be able to add and subtract these fractions so that he can be given the life saving dosage of antibiotics or heart medicine. The tigers are counting on you!" I said.

Apparently, this was all the motivation she needed.

She likes visual aids so she fetched a few tiger stuffed animals and approached each problem as an opportunity to save a feline life.

"This kitty needs tapeworm medicine!" she declared.

 

This is one of the reasons I love to homeschool. We are able to take an abstract concept and make it relevant and worthwhile.  Homeschool readers, how do you make difficult subject matter go more smoothly?

Homeschooling: A day of Innovation...

Today at the Shiny Red School Room we did some unconventional learning- the kind of thing for which there really isn't the time or space in regular school.

We had a day of Innovation.

What is innovation? Innovation and its soul mate inspiration are the sparks which have led to every cool and interesting invention and idea in the world. The car? Innovation. Cell phone? Innovation. Salad Spinner? Innovation!

To accomplish this goal I took out lots of supplies like wood pieces, glue, paint, fabric, pipe cleaners, ribbons, crayons and paper. Onto the table it went and in no time the girls and I became engineers.

Lily decided pretty quickly that she wanted to reconstruct the Great Hall from Hogwarts.

 

Rebecca began to construct a fairy house with columns and a cobblestone floor.

 

We worked for hours learning the sorts of things which can not be quantified on standardized tests. 

There was a lot of engineering involved. What makes a fairy house roof stable? Will glue alone do it? Will additional supports need to be added? 

Problem solving plays a starring role in innovation. We ran out of one size of wood. What could  be used as a substitution?

We allowed our projects to take as much time as was needed. Innovation can't be rushed. The brain has to be allowed time to consider different ideas and to then move forward with a great one.

I made a fairy house. I love fairy houses!

I made this fairy family. Those are real birds nests that we found while on the cape at Thanksgiving!

 

Rebecca is very pleased with her creation.

Check out the sink!

 

Lily's Hogwarts Great Hall and characters kept her busy for a long time. 

I like it when Lily is busy for a long time.

 

There is such value in unstructured learning- in allowing kids to use materials without instructions and without a specific end in mind. 

From the outside our day looked like arts and crafts, but on the inside I was creating tomorrows great inventors.

Conversation with Nana, Rebecca and Lily...

Rebecca: "So Nana, you know what I would love? A fairy house that looks like a cottage, with some stairs, and maybe some flowers. Some cute fairy mushrooms would be great!"

Lily: "Nana? You know what I would love for you to make for me? A tank! With guns!"


My children in a nutshell.

Excuse me, I'm off to research tanks.

A Conversation with Rebecca...

Rebecca and I have this conversation every single day.

She: "Hi Mommy."

Me: "Hi honey. Have you met my dog?"

She:"Yes, I have met him."

Me: "His name is Puglsey. You know what else?"

She:"He is the love of your life?"

Me: "Yes! And know what else?"

She: "He is the only one who understands you?"

Me: "Yes! And you know what else?"

She: "You are going to run away with him?"

Me: "Yes!"

Me: "I love you, Rebecca."

She: "I love you too, Mommy."

Relief...

We started school this week. Last year when we decided to homeschool it was a rather sudden decision and we ended up making it up as we went along.

This year is different because I was able to plan ahead and work on striking the right balance between time at home and time spent participating in activities.

I'll be honest with you. I was more than a little nervous about how this year was going to go for my big girl. This summer so many of her friends were busy in camp and didn't have much time to get together. I think she was a little lonely. Then she talked to some of her friends who had started middle school last week and who were excited about their new school. She got a little weepy. She missed her friends.  What if it was all a big mistake?

Monday started off with a bang when I got the time wrong for her ballet class and dropped her off just as the class was ending. (Fail.)  Happily, I was able to redeem myself by dropping her off at her video production class on time. (Win!)

Yesterday featured her first Girl Scouts meeting and field trip which she loved. So many big girls! No little sisters and their talking teddy bears! Win! Win! Win!

Today featured a park playgroup that included a kickball game full of big kids that went on for hours. Hours! If you have ever witnessed children at recess trying to play kickball only to have it end after ten minutes because it's time to go inside then you know the deliriousness that this game represented. And there were new friends from Girl Scouts there! Win!Win! Win!

Then, after lunch we went to another park playgroup and people- the fun continued! More Girl Scouts friends! Warrior Kitty play! Little sister too busy being chased by boys to interfere! Win! Win! Win!

On the way home Rebecca told me that it had been the best day of her life so far and that is when I started to get weepy.

I've written before about the powerful feeling of parental relief.  Worry about your child gnaws at you, steals into your gut and settles itself in for a long stay.  My worry about Rebecca had become a near constant companion. I knew that homeschooling was a good fit for her academically and even socially, but I could not help but fret about her. Would she find her place in the homeschooling world? Would she find people to talk to and laugh with?

When she told me how happy she was today and how excited she is for this year, a wave of relief washed over me. I could feel it physically, like a anvil had been lifted from my heart, like an unwanted visitor had finally left.

Relief is exquisite- and I hope I don't need to feel it again for a long time.

Junk with Rebecca...

Today my big girl and I were sick of the beach. Sick of the sand, sick of sunscreen and sick of summer.

Since David and Lily needed more beach time, Rebecca and I did the only thing that two girls unencumbered by a husband and a little sister could be expected to do.

We junked.

Having Rebeca with me, noticing things and just being cheerful was the greatest prize of the day.

I will not allow that child to ever move away. Resolved.

Anyway, on this adventure I brought my camera and the battery. Let's go!

That quilt is for Francis. I should have taken another photo up close so that you could see all of the state birds a bit better.

After we junked, we stopped for this.

I did come home with a few treasures.

This iron plant holder thingy was originally $45, but it was marked down to $5. I snapped that baby up speedy quick!

Puglsey is there to provide scale.

Do not ask me where I am going to put this. It is an unimportant detail. It was $12 and it needed a home.

Okay. Seriously, I don't know what I am going to do with this old vegetable bin. But it's rusty. And turquoise. And chippy. And it was only $6!

 I found this thermos at the Salvation Army in Hyannis when I was shopping on Friday.

It's from England! That means it's fancy.

Finally, I picked up an "S". I love letters, especially letters which have meaning in my life.

It was a perfectly lovely afternoon with a perfectly lovely child.

Delight, bliss and love.

My Children: A psychological analysis through bumper cars

This weekend my generous in-laws treated our entire family to a weekend in Maine. There was lobster, ice cold ocean water and lots of great family time.

The highlight for the children was without a doubt our spur of the moment stop at York's Wild Kingdom and Amusement Park. We skipped the zoo and stuck with the rides. Lucky for us our kids are completely naive deprived have little experience with amusement parks so they were perfectly happy to visit a small park without any really scary rides.

Also, it was cheap! $10 per kid for an all day pass!

There was one moment at the park which illustrated everything you ever need to know about my children.

It happened during Bumper Cars.

Rebecca and Lily both wanted to ride the bumper cars and who am I to deprive my children of almost certain neck trauma?


Rebecca in a Bumper Car:

She only wants to drive. She controls her vehicle with an air of calm nonchalance. "I am driving my car to my weekly luncheon for the Society of the Appreciation of Cute Kitties. There I will eat a delicious meal of tuna fish sandwiches and fruit cup." She hugs the walls, not out of fear, but because in her driving fantasy there are no car crashes, only appointments to go to the theater and volunteer her time rehabilitating sick squirrels. Here she is:

Lily in a Bumper Car:

I have seen my future and it involves high car insurance premiums. Lily got into her car and instantly an evil gleam appeared in her eye. Even before the car started she was casing the scene, deciding who would feel her bumper wrath. Once her car started she hit every car on the track and she gave the bumper of her sister extra special attention. Here she is driving with my nephew and another one of her driving by herself. Can you see the glee of this child?

They are my heart and soul, my yin and yang, my agony and my ecstasy, my joy and laughter.

 

Pity Me. 

 

Envy Me.

 

It's all there. My babies. My people. My love.

There's no business like show business except when there is a sniper!

Before I get into the whole story of love, loss, redemption, snipers and too much left over food, I have to tell you that yes, I am a freak.

As you may or may not know, David is a Television Producer. I used capital letters which makes it even more official. I am not a Television Producer, though I like to read celebrity gossip rags on line at the grocery store sometimes so that gives us a lot in common.

Yesterday David had a Big Shoot in which he cast Lily and Rebecca. Generally, I avoid Big Shoots because they can be Very Boring, with lots of people imploring you TO PLEASE HURRY UP TO WARDROBE AND MAKEUP only to then tell you that the light isn't quite right or the director is removing a dead bird from a vent or that the stars are not perfectly aligned. Acting is 10% acting and 90% standing around trying not to eat too much food while you wait.

Anyway, yesterday was much better than most shoots. It had lots of space outside for the children to frolic and there was a sniper.

Now you know that I harbor a not so secret love of anything FBI/CIA detective law enforcement related. When David told me that the security detail on the set was an ex-marine sniper, well, I got a little excited. I watched him scan the perimeter always on alert for serial killers, international spies and dog nappers.

Nothing would get past him. When he came in for water he told us about a murder case he worked on. Murder, lust, jealously and greed- it was all there. It was the best shoot I have ever been on.

The kids were good and patient actors and no one was surprised when Lily talked the make-up artist into giving her a fake black eye. She's a weirdo.

The girls and I gratefully left the shoot at around 11:00 last night. The rest of the cast and crew still had hours to go before they wrapped. David made his way home at about 6:30am. When the kids and I woke up and went downstairs for breakfast I found a very disturbing sight.

No sniper. Just lots and lots of left over junk food. My diet is doomed.