The Laundry Fairy

Aaaand One More

2011-12-18T10:21:00.000-08:00

Since I accidentally uploaded the video of him doing nothing, here's the other video of him, actually singing.

Collin's Christmas Show

2011-12-18T09:42:00.000-08:00

Hi Daddy! Sorry you missed it, but he was awfully cute, huh?

I thought so. He's a star.

The Tootie-Tot

2011-12-10T14:14:00.000-08:00

I keep meaning to share this with you all. It's probably the single best video I have ever taken of this child and makes me smile every time I see it. I only wish I'd taken it with the better camera. Oh well. It's worth watching all the way through because it gets better with every verse.

Remember Him?

2011-12-09T19:10:00.000-08:00

You know, this kid?

Well, he's still around. I'm still around. I'm also writing at an astonishingly slow pace. In theory, I was supposed to have written five chapters of a thesis that would be painfully boring to describe to you, so I won't. In practice, I have revised said thesis to be three chapters and I am now proud to say that I have one chapter that is pitifully incongruous to the almost completed second chapter. Do you note a pattern? The pattern is that it's not done.

Anyway, you don't come here to hear my woes. You come here to see the boy. His life has gone well despite the fact that his mother sometimes doesn't shower these days. Or, that he has learned that clothes don't always come from drawers and that, in fact, you can locate a perfectly good, clean pair of pants from the laundry basket in the hall.

He has had the usual activities. Naked painting.

*Note: He asked Santa for a paint smock for Christmas. I think the shame of stripping to paint may be getting to him. What do you think? And don't worry, he is wearing underwear.

Halloween has also come and gone, as it is wont to do when I don't update the blog for months on end. He was a knight. He was what is known as "Sir 'I'm NOT A PRINCE SO STOP CALLING ME THAT!'"

He wrote a letter to Santa, that he mailed all by himself. The letter was so stinking cute that it melted my heart and I promptly bought him everything on the list.

"Der Santa,
I was a good boy, Ples bring me... (followed by cut and pasted pictures from catalogues)"

*Note: What he should have asked for was the ability to write his "s" forward instead of backward. I know, I shouldn't be critical, since he sounded out all the other words on his own, and the backward "s" is so cute. But, it cracks me up nonetheless. And is "Der" Dutch?

And, we took our annual picture in front of the Disneyland Christmas tree in our Jack sweatshirts. Collin was so sad that Daddy wasn't with us that he didn't want to ride any rides or play at the "happiest place on earth." It was a pretty sad thing to see.

I could coax him into seeing Santa though. However, he was skeptical that this was the "real" Santa because he said that Santa lives at the North Pole and that this is way too far away from there.

Daddy, we miss you and we are glad that this year is ALMOST over. We are moving on January 5th. That means no more "visits" like this one below with Daddy, but living with him once again!

And then, HAPPY faces like this one, all the time!!

Just for Giggles

2011-08-09T19:49:00.000-07:00

Half the time, the boy doesn't get stools for himself anymore and I catch him in poses like this. It always cracks me up.

Calico

2011-08-09T18:30:00.000-07:00

Every time we pass the Calico exit, I think it looks like a good idea. To be honest, any exit on the stretch between Vegas and L.A. looks like a good idea. It's a boring drive. And, since I was banned from outlet mall shopping, including the Prim Outlets, Calico seemed like as good a place to stop and stretch our legs as any.

I've never been to a ghost town. Apparently, they aren't haunted, but instead are abandoned mining towns that are rebuilt as tourist attractions. I think I may have known that on some level, but chose to think there'd be a spook around there somewhere.

Calico was hot. Damn hot. But, it was pretty fun. Collin thought it was the neatest place on earth. You would've thought it was better than Disneyland to see him run from spot to spot. Running wasn't the most advised mode of transport considering the heat, but don't let a little profuse sweating deter you, my boy.

Eddie thought it was the hottest place on earth. Thankfully, they allowed dogs, so long as they were on a leash. If they hadn't, we couldn't have gotten out of the car. Poor puppy would've roasted and died within a matter of minutes. I don't think I've ever seen him drink so much water.

Nothing says good ol' family fun like putting your kid in a coffin.

...and a jail cell.

We went to a rock store where they had all kinds of polished stone pendants, (among other crap) in the shapes of peace signs and crosses and my dear boy shouted with pure glee and ignorance: "Mommy! Look at all these peace signs and letter T's!!" The funny thing is that I've explained crosses to him before. Apparently, out of context, they are letter T's. Ahhh, young atheism.

And, we had a little pretend mining fun, of course. Well, not exactly. There was precisely one mine car and it was full of spray painted foam. Nonetheless, it was cool to stand in front of and Collin had to poke it copiously.

Donna, Bryon said the shot below is especially for you and that you will enjoy it. He kept repeating that we had to go to the bottle house. I had no idea what he was talking about until we got there.

Ahhh, bottle house. Now, I get it. Don't worry, Granny, we have multiple attempts at this shot and you can have them :) Does knowing that we were taking this picture, probably at the same moment that your car exploded, make you feel any better about the whole thing?

Finally, what is frontier fun without randomly placed wagon wheels?

See. There's one.

Vegas!

2011-08-09T16:45:00.000-07:00

Taking a kid to Vegas is super fun. Although, I have fears that he will become a compulsive gambler, now. The only explanation I could come up with for the slots were that they were grown up games. He was utterly fascinated with them and really, really really wanted to look at them, which of course he couldn't. This only made them more appealing. Since walking through the casinos is the only real way to get from point A to point B, he kind of had to see them. Oh well.

The stratosphere was a hit. He spent quite a bit of time up there looking at pools. We had been turned away from Gramps' and Nana's pool earlier that morning because they live in a retirement community and apparently there is a height requirement for users. Collin was an inch too short to swim with the big guys and he was devastated. Alas, every pool he could see from the Stratosphere, and there were A LOT of them, was Gramps' and Nana's pool.

There was fun to be had a Cesar's, but NOT the moving statues because after quite a bit of walking, we discovered that they were out of order. We did throw pennies into the fountain. Hey, tell Rachel to look out, she's about to get punched in the face by an errant penny throw.

See, I told you.

The boy got sunglasses because as we told him, it was bright out there. Something about that desert sun and all that rock and glass makes for a bright day. Does he look like a stud or what? Note the TWO M&M bags. He made quite a killing in there. $12.99 a pound for M&M's you can buy anywhere for what, $2?

But, the highlight was going to see the "Tournament of Kings" show at Excalibur. I don't think he even blinked for the entire show.

He got to meet our knight afterward and he told him all about his real sword at home and how he knows how to fight like a knight, just like him. He just talked and talked. I'm not sure the guy understood him because he was so excited, he was talking really fast.

He told him when he's a little older, he can come back to Vegas and they will hire him to be a real knight and he just gasped. It was pretty cute. Almost as cute as our knight.

We Visited Detroit...I Swear. There's Evidence

2011-08-09T16:34:00.000-07:00

We haven't been home in years. YEARS. I have been promising my family a trip for a while now, and putting it off and hemming and hawing, so I bit the bullet and planned a trip for this summer. Apparently, the weather gods heard I was coming and conspired to brew a warm front that would assure that I didn't want to visit again anytime soon. It is making me dread the move to D.C. even more. I'm already sad enough to leave California. Thank goodness I have my wonderful husband to look forward too.

Anyway, Collin loved his seeing his grandparents. Grandpa might have tilted the scales in favor of glamorizing Michigan by making Collin his very own Sword in the Stone.

A real sword. For a four year old.

It's caused a bit of gasping around here while we've gotten used to the safety rules, but he's in love with it.

Grandpa's house has a much better bath tub than ours does, as do most houses, and much better tub toys. But, then again, don't all houses have better toys than your own? Doctor's waiting rooms with toys covered in Ebola virus and with dead batteries are better than your own.

And, Grandpa even let Collin play with his antique bowling set. Apparently, my iPod isn't the only gadget he needs to play with to be fully entertained.

I let him play with it for the first time on the plane on the way out and a full-on addiction has started.

It was really great for him to get to play with my grandmother too. She wowed him the only way to truly wow my child, with food.

One of the greatest things though, was seeing him play with Ella, my friend Kristin's daughter. Ella was due three days after Collin was due. Collin was three weeks early and Ella was two weeks late. Kristin and I blissfully thought it would be great if we had our babies on the same day. Oh how wrong we were. Darn babies messing up our plans. But, Kristin and I have been friends since our junior year of college and it's great to see our lives change along the way.

His pastime of choice in Michigan was "watering" the plants in grandpa's backyard. By the way, that's sweat, not water from the hose. It's that hot.

And, that's how my boy carries his swords. We've had to lay down ground rules about not carrying the real one that way.

And, my boy found Grandpa's washing machine amazing and "better" than mine.

We made it to the Detroit zoo toward the end of the trip when the temperature dropped a mili-degree. They had an awesome dinosaur exhibit that even had a t-rex. See.

This is the closest I could get to a picture of Collin with the t-rex. As you can see, he is fleeing.

However, he was more than willing to pose with herbivores.

So, Michigan was a success for the boy and an all around good trip. But, when we got back, he hugged the car and his car seat and the welcome mat, and the stairs and the front door (you get the picture). For a week, he kept saying, "I liked Michigan but it would be more fun if Grandpa and Nana Debby lived in California. I like it better here." I agree.

But, Michigan will always have stuff like this:

I grew up climbing on this hippo outside of Crowley's at Oakland Mall while my mom shopped. It got moved to the Detroit Zoo years and years ago when Crowley's closed. It's just one of those things I remember. No matter how much I grow away from Michigan, I won't be able to get rid of things like that damn hippo. I told Bryon the other day that California is my home now, we always have to come back here but I guess there's a bit of Michigan that will always be stuck with me because I got a little twinge of happiness seeing my boy climb on it.

The Graduate

2011-08-03T20:31:00.000-07:00

So, we have officially "graduated" from our first Kindergarten reading box. I am so proud of the little guy. This book was the final book in the box. He read it once while we were in Michigan, and I have to say, he wasn't quite ready for it when we tried it, but he still did swimmingly. I think that he was so dazzled by all the splendor that is Detroit (note sarcasm) that he forgot he even read it in the first place, anyway. That was over a week ago and it was time to try again.

His second go at it this week was amazing. He's trucking along so quickly though the lessons that I think we'll be through the kindergarten level before school starts, which is my unofficial goal. But, since the words and sounds are getting a little harder now, we'll probably slow down. Either way, I'm so stinking proud of him, I can hardly stand it. It makes my heart pitter patter when he points out words he knows on signs and in books and to hear him try to sound out words he doesn't. He's my little reader now!

Anyway, Daddy this is for you.

And, Grandpa and Nana Debby, we'll get those Detroit pictures sorted and up soon. I promise. We have been too busy enjoying being back in the land of soda and sliding glass doors (versus pop and door walls).

Sir Collin Goes to the Faire

2011-07-17T17:45:00.000-07:00

We went to the Renaissance Faire this weekend. To say that Collin enjoyed himself might be one of the biggest understatements I could make. From the moment they let him try on mail, he was in heaven.

For months, I've been telling him that "real" axes and "real" swords are too heavy for him as an explanation as to why he can't have one, forget all the other logical reasons. His exact words when he picked this up: "See! This isn't too heavy! Now, I can have one." And, no this isn't real.

He did however find that the mail shirt was too heavy for him and wanted it off pretty quickly.

He did look totally adorable, though.

Once he realized that he could eat meat with his hands, and in large portions, he was sold on the Middle Ages, and I think I have a complete convert to my side.

I've heard those turkey legs are good, but even before I stopped eating meat, I never liked turkey so I've never tried one. All I know is that you could barely pry it out of his hands. He gnawed on it for hours.

Because he's my son, there's no way to escape the Renaissance Faire without swords and a shield. No, he didn't get "real" ones; not yet, anyway. I'm glad that I am holding fast to that rule, since he insisted on carrying them jammed down the front of his shirt, instead of in the leather strap that a kindly leather shop owner made for him.

Once he had swords in hand, he insisted on challenging every costumed person that came across his path by jumping in front of them and shouting, "I have a sword!" or by simply brandishing it in their faces until they noticed him. No amount of my stopping him or correcting him seemed to work to quell this behavior because, as you know if you've ever been at the Renaissance Faire, all these people are in character all the time, and they took kindly to his antics and responded to him as if he were performing a little skit and just played along, which only encouraged him.

So, he kept challenging.

And challenging.

Until....

Yes, that's right. He attempted to challenge the QUEEN!

Seriously. The procession was coming along and everyone was doing their little shouts and yells and trumpet thing and, of course, everyone got out of the way for her, but not my boy. He simply saw an opportunity to challenge fancy people. He saw a clearer shot at costumes because the crowd dispersed.

He charged right into the queen herself before the guard, or anyone could stop him and bam, challenged her. Thankfully, she thought he was adorable and a conversation ensued in which he charmed her.

The captain of the guard said that when he turns sixteen, he could come see him and he can become one of her knights and help protect her but Collin said, "No thanks, I only protect my Mommy." Awwww. So, the Queen gave him one of her jewels and had him kiss her hand.

Mmmm....Cabbage

2011-07-17T17:07:00.000-07:00

For one dollar, you can buy a head of cabbage to feed the goats at a local farm near Granny's house. Which means, for one dollar, you can make Collin's face look like this:

It was worth it.

Besides, not feeding the goats didn't seem like an option. This guy kept attempting to climb over the fence, and I'm pretty sure he knew we had lettuce at home and he was guying to get salad out of us, come hell or high water, whether it was from the farm stand, or out of our fridge.

It was a more amiable arrangement to receive it from my handsome boy.

Collin would have fed them all day if we let him. And, the goats and sheep would have eaten all day if we had let them. The way they were eating, you would have thought that was they only food they'd ever had. There was a creepy guy that followed us from pen to pen, which made me slightly uncomfortable, and glad that Granny was with us. It also made me feel a little lonely for Daddy because I thought to myself that creepy old men don't target ladies and little boys to follow around when there's a man with them.

But, all was well after the goat feeding because Collin had a moment of zen. He posed with this little statue for the only four seconds that he was still all day. This is his imitation of the statue. Not bad, eh?

And, since I haven't embarrassed Collin in the tub in a while, I simply must do it here, because, after all it's a vacation bath.

What a ham-bone. Different tub, different toys, same boy, same cheese-ball.

Things to Consider

2011-07-13T13:09:00.000-07:00

1. I will never get sick of hearing Collin read, although everyone else will already be sick of it. Mostly, these things are just for Daddy, who can't hear it.

2. I am amazed at how the little mind works as it learns. I remember as he was learning new skills like walking, how singularly focused his body was, and it seemed like he could only be learning one skill at a time and things he already knew sometimes almost regressed; or he had to focus really hard to retain them. It's almost nostalgic now to watch him struggle with things that were so easy for him a few weeks ago. He never struggled with recognizing letters before, but those pesky "p's," "b's" and "d's" seem to be giving him a lot of trouble in the last few days as his brain tries to process new ways of using them.

3. I do not normally keep a pile of garbage in the corner of my kitchen. In fact, I did not know it was there until moments before we started our work this morning. Collin has a bin of coloring books and papers there that he can access anytime he likes. Apparently, this was his way of cleaning that area up last night. Nice.

4. I wish I'd never offered him a treat the first time he read a book. Now, he thinks he's getting something to eat, anything to eat, after every time he reads anything at all. Last night, he read three books to me before bed and he asked for a pudding cup. This was after he'd brushed his teeth and was in bed. The child is insatiable. One cupcake has ruined my life.

5. Helper words suck. We were stuck on "the" for about two days. I tried to explain to Bryon that I think it is hard because the "e" in "the" is a swallowed schwa sound and the "th" is, I think, a digraph, and I've only really been teaching him simple sounds, so far. So, sounding it out doesn't work. Bryon decided that, at that point, I was lame. I am.

6. I am glad I'm documenting it. I only ever record the first time he reads a book, or anything for that matter. And, I'm not recording everything, but it's so fun to watch them and it will be awesome to have these memories when he's an adult. He and I have had a rough few days and it's been nice to have some rewarding moments together. I really hesitated about trying to teach him this. He's a frustrating student and I was really intimidated by such a large concept for him. I'm so glad that I did it. It's been so rewarding.

7. This is still the coolest thing I've ever seen. I hope I'm this excited when I see him do his first quadratic equation. Or, the first time he goes to the moon, is elected president or the first time he wins a gold medal, whichever comes first.

Scared Straight: Preschool Edition

2011-07-06T20:58:00.000-07:00

I have the bravest child that I have ever met. Space Mountain. Haunted Mansion. Roller Coasters. Scary movies. Nothing has phased him yet. Not so much as a peep. I've seen him look a little nervous for a second on occasion, gather his composure and then immediately ask to do whatever it was that irked him all over again. Well, apparently I haven't had enough discussions with him (or any) about what "jail" is or about the "judicial system."

We went to Alcatraz and took the audio tour. A quick little pre-brief of it being an old abandoned prison and a definition of jail seemed seemed sufficient. He understood what all of it meant clear enough but when he got a good look at what a jail was all about. Well...

It was the first time I saw that apprehensive look on his face permanently.

He has been talking my ear off ever since about how badly he wants to make sure he never, ever, EVER wants to go to jail.

It all seemed well and good to broadly tell him that people who don't listen and follow rules go to jail. But, he got kind of freaked out and needed a lot more information.

So, we've been doing a lot of talking over the last few days about laws, the judicial system, court and exactly what jail entails.

He seems awfully confused about why Alcatraz no longer operates. He can't seem to wrap his head around what jail is really like if it isn't like Alcatraz and his main concern is that the food in jail would not be good. I feel like he might be considering a life of crime, if only he could be sure to get three good meals a day out of it. He keeps asking about cake.

He did say that he doesn't want to return to Alcatraz again, even to visit. And upon recieving parole from the tour, he was alive with glee.

Talking to the nesting seagulls was the first time I saw him smile. He's like the bird man of Alcatraz.

Sometimes I'm Glad I Bring the Camera

2011-07-06T20:39:00.000-07:00

It's no secret that we go to Disneyland a lot. We go so often, that I don't really lug the camera anymore. It's just one more thing to carry around the park, when we are already carting snacks, water, a stroller, and all kinds of other junk. To be honest, half the time, we go empty handed. It's just easier. That's what drinking fountains are for.

But, when I do bring the camera, I am always happy to go through the pictures I took. Goodness knows when he's forty what I'm going to do with seventeen pictures of him on the train from June 29th, 2011. I'm fairly certain that I'll look at them and bemoan the fact that he's no longer four, pick up the phone, call him, and leave a message that sounds something like this:

"Collin, this is your mother. I haven't heard from you today (because he will call me every day when he's an adult) and I miss you. Remember when you were a little-widdle baby? I know your wife made me promise to stop leaving these messages. But I can't. Please don't change your number again."

Anyway, this is why I'm going to still be charmed by him. He's so cute on a train.

And handsome.

And, if you make him, he'll sit by you for six seconds to take a picture. If it's your birthday.

I think the best part of bringing the camera along though is snagging those firsts that aren't all that important in the grand scheme of things but count if you have them on film. For example, Collin has never had cotton candy before. Why? Because it's a messy disaster and he's had every other treat under the sun to try first.

He liked it.

By the way, fun fact about Bryon: he pretty much has no interest in sweets. He won't even have a single bite of cotton candy. I know. Weird. Not even a single bite. More for us.

Why Bother with Disneyland?

2011-07-06T20:22:00.000-07:00

For my birthday, Bryon was home. That should be present enough, right? We thought it would be fun to actually spend the evening at Disneyland, instead of heading home towards dinnertime, for a change. In all the time we've lived here, and all the times we've been, we've only stayed for fireworks once. I know, we are like Disney novices.

So, we decided to hang out for a while and then check into a really nice suite just down the road that Bryon booked for us, have some dinner, and then go back. Thanks to all the travel that he did last year, he has so many hotel points racked up, it didn't cost us anything. I suppose having a busy husband has its perks.

Our son was so impressed with the hotel, that we couldn't pry him away from it to get him back to DISNEYLAND. Seriously. Disneyland couldn't compete with the manager's happy hour that came with free popcorn and apple juice (all he could eat!) and a pool.

Monkey approved of the place. And, he got to sleep on a magic bed (aka a pull out couch in the living room portion of the suite), so he was enthralled.

So, I'm thinking that next time I want to wow the boy, I'll just check into a Day's Inn. Unfortunately, as we were checking out, he opened the door to the room right across his foot and sliced his toe open. I'm kind of hard on him when he gets hurt, so I hugged him and told him to walk it off, at first but it didn't take long to realize that it really, really hurt. The poor boy had quite a cut there and he really cried. I felt awful for him. He sobbed all the way down the elevator and all the way through the lobby and even in the car on the way back to Disneyland.

I think he might have been equal parts injured and heartsick over leaving the hotel.

Vote For Collin

2011-07-04T12:00:00.000-07:00

I told you he would be President. Just you wait and see.

I'm so proud of him. Ignore the request for a cupcake. Of course, the way to my boy's heart is through his stomach.

When he's concentrating, he can do amazing things. When he isn't, he's pretty sure that all words are "nap," or whatever word he read last. It can be very frustrating, but it's so worth it to see how excited he gets when he knows he's done it. I love when he is looking out the window and tries to tell me he is trying or is reading and says letters that aren't even on the page. Say, when the word is "cat" and he says "zap." Ahh, the joys of my easily distracted son.

Happy Fourth of July!

2011-07-04T09:26:00.000-07:00

Collin thinks he knows the "Pledge of Allegiance."

Collin is wrong.

It's cute though. And he kind of knows it, so I'm not complaining. He only messes it up a little, and who could fault him? He's so darn adorable.

Who cares if we are divisible? I mean, it's nicer his way, in a way. Maybe we shouldn't be so concerned with the indivisible part. Aren't we always stressing being individuals and not following the crowd?

Reading! My God, He's Growing Up!

2011-06-27T21:46:00.000-07:00

My goal for each day runs contrary to Collin's goal for every day this summer vacation. I start every day with a list in my head of at least a dozen fun activities that we can do, things that will keep us running and busy, from sun up until sun down, so he's happy, and more importantly, busy. He starts every day with a question. This question:

"Can we watch a little t.v.?"

When the day comes to a close and we (read: me) managed to find enough fun things to do so that we didn't actually have time to turn on the darn thing, I tuck him in and he says:

"That was a fun day, but I sure wish we had time to watch some t.v." Sometimes, he adds, "Maybe, tomorrow we'll have time for fun...you know, t.v."

Can't win, can you? Tide pools. Art projects. Parks. Parks. Parks and more parks. Museums. Beaches. Hikes. A thousand and one activities. If only I'd turned on Dora the Explorer, his life would've been more complete.

Anyway, we are also working pretty hard on having "school" every day so he doesn't lose everything he gained over this last academic year. Because I've got the time, I have been spending a lot of time with him practicing his handwriting and working on math, and even moving ahead with reading.

I sometimes "trick" him into doing work. He's onto me pretty quickly for the most part. This is the boy practicing math and counting in groups of ten. We were using dry beans and bowls.

For reading, to my great delight, and not so much surprise (because I knew he was a genius--aren't they all?), he was ready for reading. I suspected it but was hesitant because I didn't want to bang my head against the wall, and because I was intimidated to try teaching such a big concept to a boy as stubborn as Collin. But, he seems to be picking it right up. I was so proud when he read his first story that I almost cried. I swear, I could listen to that crummy story a thousand times in a row to hear his sweet little voice sound out those words.

I think I clapped louder and made more of a fuss over it then when he made his first poop in the potty. This leads me to question: which is a more valuable skill in society? Toilet training or literacy?

It's fun to watch his eyes light up when he realizes he "gets" it. He really loves some of the games I've found for him that reinforce his sounds and supplement the reading program that I am using. He's really, really good at them.

First step: learning to read. Next step: president.

And I don't care what he says, it's a good day when you become literate, regardless of how much television you watch.

What's Been Going On

2011-06-20T14:05:00.000-07:00

Since I got out of school, it's been a bit like bliss. Collin and I have been finding time to play every single spare moment and we are finding adventure in every day.

Now that he is out of school too, he's discovered that Mommy isn't letting him off the hook and he's stuck doing summer work in the morning. He's gotten used to it and has embraced the idea of "new" workbooks and his "new" marker board that he practices his math and letters on. He's doing awesome at it and the electric pencil sharpener helps. It's amazing how anything that is "just like at real school" helps. If only he'd stop thinking that eleventeen was a number.

When Daddy comes home, I try to keep the honey-do list to a reasonable length so that he can just enjoy being with his family, since he doesn't get to be with us all that often. But, every so often, he does have to work, just a little.

Who can help it, if it's fun to work with the boy?

Recently, when Daddy was home Collin had to show him how much better he was at riding all of his various outdoor toys, including his bike. He was so proud.

I'm waiting to see, as he grows up, if every time he's concentrating, his tongue hangs out like that. It's so stinking cute.

The next few times he goes to karate, I'll have to take some pictures because I don't think I've ever seen him so excited and so focused. That tongue pretty much hangs out the whole time, like a thirsty labrador. And he's doing really well. He remembered some pretty long moves last time when the kids were sparring. It's kind of fun to watch.

And, Daddy comes home again in a few days to go on...wait for it...vacation! We are going on a short trip and I'm so excited. What a fun summer vacation already!

Why I'm Not Speaking to Bryon

2011-06-20T13:55:00.000-07:00

It's painfully obvious to everyone that our time left in California is finite. I mean, come on, Bryon's already left, right? And, he expects us to join him in D.C. Dumb old, cold sometimes, snows sometimes, not California, D.C. Ugh.

I have until December or January. Stupid assignments always messing things up. I wouldn't have our life any other way, truthfully. I like moving. I like change. I like the adventure. All that, blah, blah....

But, I also like spending my morning like this.

And this.

Maybe if I convince Bryon that I need to do my Ph.D. at Stanford and it must be done now, I can con another five years here out of him.

Of course, we would have to sell our adorable child to afford a place like that. But, I think we'd find takers. I mean, you've seen him, right? The VA won't pay forever, you know?

I could study the possibilities for what this thing is. From a distance (you look like my friend--hee hee) I thought it was a large chunk of vertebrae that had been really battered.

Up close, it seems to be some sort of boat part. But, what?

The whoosie-whatsit? That thing that does the flibbity-jibbit? Yes, of course. Anyway, I poked it. With my hand, once I saw that it had a flat metal-appearing fitting and realized it was probably mechanical and not organic; but then I thought, "what if I'm wrong?" and I got grossed out.

Anyway, thoughts on what it is? I'm talking to you Bryon and Gramps.

Our tally for a morning at the beach was about forty dragon flies, four lizards (which Collin informed me would be six if we saw only two more), and this rock, which we had to bring home.

Collin carried it up a precipice-laden, extremely steep hill, which I felt was dangerous because of the slippage risk and the impalement danger of him carrying a sharp object against his chest. When I brought this risk up to him, he said:

"Mommy, I won't impale myself, it will only stab a little. I won't get blood. I promise." Okay. Hard to argue. And, he didn't. He also made it all the way up the hill with a rock that was much too heavy for him to carry that far, and all the way to the car before hoisting it into the front seat and saying, "here, this is for you now." Thanks buddy. I always wanted a shapeless, ugly, grey rock.

Happy Father's Day! Now, Look Out!

2011-06-19T16:09:00.000-07:00

All is as it should be today. Collin was with his Daddy.

...And, Daddy tried to kill him.

I thought to myself, "Oh how cute. I never take videos of them just playing and rough-housing." Apparently, I should've been serving as a spotter.

Not to worry, Daddy did, in fact, catch him before he smashed his head too hard on the coffee table and the only casualty was a picture frame. Everyone is fine. He didn't even cry, just a little "hey, what the heck just happened?"and all was settled with a big squeeze.

Well, except for the question of who is a better rough-houser? Obviously it's me, since I have never flung our child across the room.

Do You Think He'll Remember This?

2011-06-06T11:52:00.000-07:00

Star Tours officially opened last week at Disneyland. It's been closed for quite a while for renovations. Before that, Collin was too short to ride. He measured himself at the little stick outside pretty regularly, to make sure that when it did re-open, he'd be allowed on. When he officially reached 40-inches, and was allowed on Space Mountain, he knew he'd be allowed on Star Tours, and didn't quite understand why it had to be closed still when he was now allowed to ride.

Being the Star Wars family that we are, we simply had to head to Disneyland the official opening day, right? I had planned on getting there early to try to at least avoid some crowd. Well, we didn't get there until 11 am. The line was 3 hours when we got there. 3 hours. 3 hours! We decided not to wait. I felt terrible. He was a little disappointed but got over it pretty quickly and we passed a lovely afternoon at the rest of the park.

On our way back through that area to exercise our fast pass option to hop onto Space Mountain, I noticed the line looked distinctly shorter than it did that morning and asked a worker who told me that it was indeed only 1.5 hours. So, I made the executive decision to hop into line and we started our long wait. It moved relatively quickly and my boy was so patient. By the time we got to the lobby, he was so excited to see the spaceships on the wall and hear the music playing that he could literally, barely breathe. He was panting. It was a sight to see. I wish I had videoed it. It was worth the wait just to have that memory.

I asked someone in line to take this picture of us by the sign so we'd be able to say that yeah, we were there on opening day. It's not great, but whatever. It was dark in there and it's on the phone with no flash on.

And, then there's this. These are the greatest 3D glasses ever, I think.

When we got to the front of the line, they decided to re-measure the boy, which had me a little ready to fight. I didn't say anything, but my heart-rate went through the roof. After our one experience where they turned him away from Space Mountain at the last minute, I'm always on edge when they measure him. I was afraid I'd just waited 1.5 hours, plus over a year of this kid getting excited, for him to be turned away. I was ready to get Walt Disney out of cryogenic freeze to remedy the situation. He's 40-inches in stocking feet, and I wasn't about to let someone in a polyester vest and a plastered smile tell him no. They didn't.

He had a blast. He says it's his favorite ride now. He immediately wanted to ride again. He said it would be okay if we even had to wait in the long line again. I said no, especially since when we got out, it was up to 3 hours again. Seriously. But, I did get him a t-shirt that said he rode the ride on opening day. That kid is so spoiled sometimes. After that, he wanted a t-shirt that said he rode EVERY ride. He didn't quite understand the t-shirt thing, I think.

The best part of the line though, may have been seeing a woman nurse her pre-school aged child. The kid was about three inches shorter than Collin, so I'm pretty sure he'd have gotten turned away at the front of the line, but he was certainly at least 3 1/2 or maybe even older. It was bizarre to say the least. Maybe in third world countries, maybe in extreme cases, maybe?? The kid was so big, it was an obvious physical strain for her to support him while she did it. His legs wrapped all the way around her back. Imagine picking up your large child and putting him to your breast now, in a standing position, and how you would support him. This is what it looked like. And oh, he did not easily fit under that wrap. It was very, very, very weird. I almost never care what other people do with their kids but that just struck me as totally weird. I saw them a little earlier getting into the Space Mountain line too. Apparently, they think their kid is old enough to ride Space Mountain but not old enough to stop nursing. Huh?

Life is Good

2011-06-06T11:36:00.000-07:00

I've come to the conclusion that if the worst thing I do as a parent is let my kid watch inappropriate movies, I'm not doing so bad. He's well-adjusted, happy and healthy. He's a good boy, save for urinating on other children at school, (it only happened once!) and for the occasional boy behavior. He's also the sweetest, most gentle creature on the planet. So, I think we are doing well. I'm okay with him watching crap, especially since he doesn't watch much of anything in total.

Anyway, he watched Lord of the Rings with us, in marathon fashion the last time Daddy was home. If I had to watch Toy Story one more time, I was going to kill myself. And truth be told, he is so much more into knights and swords and what I like to call "cool" stuff anyway. If you call it cool, it's not nerdy, right? Wahoo for me. He got a little bored with the talking parts, but boy did he like the fighting parts. He is looking around every corner for Orcs and the big watching eye of Sauron. Apparently, nothing will ever scare my child. Besides, they look sweet don't they?

Oh, and another failing of my parenting perhaps? This. Let's just say I encouraged this Or, at the very least, I didn't stop it.

At least I'm a healthy cook. This is butternut squash that is meant for our homemade macaroni and cheese. Collin didn't like it. He ate it; but, he didn't like it. On a regular basis, I still hear, "Kari is a better cook than you. Why don't you make dinner like her?" Kids.

Anyway, I'm still reveling in the joy of relaxing and in getting to actually enjoy time with Daddy when he comes home, instead of just waving hello and locking myself away for the 48 hours he's home so that I can study. Life is so good when there's less stress.

And now that there's a break, I'm reading and studying the area's of medieval literature that are of the most interest to me, instead of just the stuff that I had to read. You didn't realize that even medieval literature was broken into itty bitty categories did you? Well, it is. But, now that I'm done with all my core work, I can actually just do what I WANT. It's like playtime! I even watched First Knight again last night, which I haven't seen for years and I was actually sad halfway through because I realized I only had halfway to go. Now, of course, that isn't really studying, but it just reminds me how much I love what I'm doing. That movie is based "loosely" on Chretien De Troye's version of Lancelot, which I'm in the throes of right now and it's an amazing story. If I could do THIS every day for the rest of my life, I'd be happy until the day I died. Bryon and I are even talking about going to England next year when I graduate and taking Collin on his first overseas adventure. I can't wait. New furniture can wait another few years. I hate our stuff so much that it makes me cringe sometimes, but the Bodleain library and castles await.

Kiss My A

2011-06-01T10:00:00.000-07:00

Hey, Dr. Let's just call you "x" to protect your dignity, remember when you said that I would never make it? Remember when you said I would never survive the semester, let alone get a thesis done next semester? Remember when you flat out told me to quit? Remember that conversation? I do. I remember it vividly because I thought you were perhaps the worst student advisor in the history of the world and you made me cry. It was also the moment that you made me realize that this was actually what I wanted because you tried to take it away. Thanks for being terrible. I wouldn't have known what I truly wanted without you.

As for how I did this semester, I simply must tell you: Suck it.

Let me get back to work on my prospectus now because it is due shortly and I have more proving you wrong to do. And not just proving you wrong, but really, really wrong. Never underestimate me again.

Just had to put it out there. After this semester of unexpected surgery, a kid at the hospital, a stolen wallet and countless other bad days, I deserved to crow a little over a hard earned 4.0.

The Final Stretch

2011-05-13T09:59:00.000-07:00

Collin has a field trip today.

I'm not going.

Since Collin has started school, I've missed two events. This includes even mundane things, like passing out Valentines. I want to be there for EVERYTHING. I love watching his face light up with the smallest new experience and I hate not being there to share these new "special" days with him.

(Ignore the dribbled toothpaste down the front of his shirt...it's all we can do to get out of the house relatively clean in the morning---and yes, he insists on flipping his collar up like that. He hasn't gotten the memo that it is not 1983)

Truth be told, I hate not being there on regular days too. I wish I could go to school with him and just sit in the corner and watch. Field trip days are like my chance to hang out with him at school and be a pal. This time though, it just didn't work out.

Why? Well, remember when I gave you the rundown of what I had left for the last five weeks of the semester?

I'm down to a week. I've got everything in but two final papers. They are both 20 pages and they are both due soon. Very soon. They aren't done. They aren't even close. I can't afford to give up a full day of quiet house time to go to the Natural History Museum, where I've been with Collin at least twenty times.

The thought of going with his class, where we'd be shuffled through at their pace and with extreme stress and loudness, eh. I think I made the right choice. Still, I feel awful. I cried. The same thing I did last time when I couldn't go because they had to reschedule a cancelled field trip for a Wednesday, a day I had class. Thanks to my dumb gall bladder having decided to go haywire earlier in the semester, it's not such a good idea to ask my professors if I can just beg off for a day to go strawberry picking, right? I'd already missed a week of classes and I wasn't about to pull the hooky card.

Imagined e-mail, "Dr Dr. X, Thanks for understanding about my surgery earlier this semester. I know I came to class all drugged up and I might have said some weird stuff. Thanks for understanding about that too. Oh, and thanks for being cool that I barely understood the reading for that time period too. I did my best. But, can I go strawberry picking with my son?"

I know these are the choices that working parents, or parents with three or four children make every day, but it isn't a choice I was used to making. It makes me feel awful.

Collin didn't seem to mind. He said, "Aren't you coming?" when I turned to leave. When I said no, he said, "oh, that's okay. I have my BACKPACK!" Apparently, to a four year-old, I'm replaceable by the novelty of getting to wear a backpack to carry his sack lunch. Okay, but to me, the experience of being with him isn't replaceable.

I'm so glad that this tiny span of time, this one semester of pure madness, is limited. Next semester is one class and thesis units. I'm in charge of how I spend my time. While a thesis is certainly not messing around, my time is so much more flexible and I can't wait to have more home hours to be with him. I've missed him so much.

It's so close to being over, I can almost taste it! Now, to work on the writing....forty pages...ready, set, Go!

Oh, and p.s. I did fix his shoes so he wouldn't walk in circles all day.

"International" Day

2011-05-06T16:58:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how much you remember about International Day from last year, but it's a big deal at Collin's school. Every class gets assigned a country, which they study for an extended period of time and then, in the spring, they perform a song/dance number for the parents about that country. The whole school also sings lovey-dovey kids songs about unity, togetherness, friendship and the like. It's a nice way for the kids to learn about the world and for the parents to see their kids perform and take adorable pictures, as well as to be annoyed by other parents who do things like save the entire front row of seats.

Well, last year, Collin's class was assigned Hawaii. Bryon was pretty annoyed with Hawaii being designated "country" status but I told him to just roll with it because Collin looked cute and we just accepted that they were trying to focus on Polynesian culture. This year, Collin's class was assigned, USA. Yep, my boy may begin to think that there are no other countries in the world.

In all reality, he may currently know more about the USA than I do. He's been quizzing me about the Pledge of Allegiance lately, about the state capitals and about USA trivia like our National Tree. Did you know that we had one? I didn't. And it's not the cherry blossom.

The International Day Festival is just the cutest show ever. The kids in their costumes are so cute that I could just take them all home, so long as they don't make any noise and I can return them promptly to their parents as soon as they irritate me. I was quite nervous about this year's performance though, as Collin has been so terrible at school of late and I was actually afraid he'd do something horrible to make a spectacle of himself. I actually debated keeping him out of the show and having him stay home from school. Terrible, I know.

He did fine though. Great actually. I don't imagine that anyone will want to see the videos except for Daddy but Daddy certainly misses out by not being there. We missed him. Daddy, sorry they sing to the Dodgers.

He "participated" just as much as the standard kid, which is about 50%, so I'm happy.

The only weird thing he did, was start to take his shirt off through the collar at the end, and I can live with that. He didn't run off the stage. He didn't push anyone. He didn't pull any one's hair. He didn't scream or shout or do anything wildly inappropriate. Phew. Although, as you can tell from the pictures I've chosen to share, he is certainly more interested in flirting with Lainie than he is in singing, no?

My favorite picture of the day though is of one of Collin's friends. I love when you can tell a kid must've gone potty since they've last been with Mommy. Someone has a tucking problem.

Geek Points: 100

2011-05-06T16:39:00.000-07:00

Collin has been getting in trouble at school lately. A lot.

I keep telling myself that I can log these these incidents in my memory for stories to tell the press when he gets elected president. The future equivalent of Barbara Walters (or her floating head in a jar) will find it immensely amusing that the most powerful man in the world once peed on another student in pre-school, but somehow managed to pull it together to rule the nation.

Needless to say, he's been getting consequences, so many consequences that we've been running out of consequences to give him. When your child gets "written up" at school so many times that they give up on writing him up, you start to run out of punishments, and you begin to think you aren't just doing something wrong as a parent, but everything.

Because Collin had so been looking forward to Wizard Con (which he thought was Comic Con), it made perfect sense to take away the privilege of going when he got in trouble at school three times last week. He was devastated at first, and then, didn't care. Darn those kids for not taking punishment seriously. I was more upset than him because the tickets weren't free, I'd bought him a costume and Daddy was home to go with us.

Thankfully, he was able to recover his behavior all day on Saturday and we conceded and let him go. He's on an insanely strict system of earning poker chips for good behavior and getting them taken away for poor behavior. He can barely breathe out of line these days.

Anyway, he got to meet R2D2 who rolled right up to him and beeped and blipped at him. It was nice to be able to take him to something he was looking forward to and it's always fun to see him starstruck. The operator (wait, did I destroy the illusion?) even had R2D2 reach out to him with one of his little robot arms. It was pretty awesome.

Now, if only I can get Collin to get on and stay on the good behavior track. Oy.

Did You Know It Was Easter?

2011-05-06T16:26:00.000-07:00

Yeah, it was a while ago. Hang onto your hats, I'm going to "update" a lot here.

Collin was early, and thus a teensy-weensy little guy when he was born. He wasn't supposed to arrive in time for Easter, but he surprised us all when he was born. I wanted to take him to see the Easter Bunny and get a picture on his lap and Bryon's response was something along the lines of being purely appalled and calling the Bunny a lap of germs.

So, I agreed to take Collin's picture next to a stuffed rabbit toy that we had at home. Ever since, it's been tradition to take his picture next to that same toy every Easter and see how much he's grown. Look at how much he's changed since the first year.

It breaks my heart how fast he's growing. Do you think he'll agree to continue to do it every year even after he's married and has children of his own?

Oh, and yes, he did take a much better picture than this one but I liked this one best. This is my boy: a little difficult, no?

Five

2011-04-20T18:23:00.000-07:00

That's the number of times I've broken down into tears since my husband has been away. I finally hit five sheer breakdowns today.

Today's was a whopper and it lasted for hours off and on. I think I might have regained my composure, but I'm not sure. I might continue to cry off and on.

An asshole stole my wallet today.

As in where I keep my driver's license which I have to spend all morning/afternoon/night replacing tomorrow at the DMV because their earliest appointment is 2 May.

As in where I keep my student ID which also serves as library card which I will also have to replace tomorrow.

As in where I keep my credit card.

As in where I keep my ATM card.

As in where I keep my Disneyland passes for both me and Collin.

As in where I keep my military ID that has my husband's social security number printed right on the front, in plain sight. You know, the thing that CAN'T be replaced without the physical presence of my husband, who DOESN'T live here. The thing that we are going to have to go through hoops to replace now.

As in where I keep my grocery club savings card. Yeah, that's not a big deal, but it adds insult to injury.

I hate this person. A lot.

I also hate that this person did this now. I hate that this person did it at the last few weeks of the semester when I really, really don't have time to deal with the nonsense associated with replacing a lost wallet. I can't tell you the number of manners in which I've imagined her suffering. Why do I know it's a her? Because the only time my bag was unattended was when I was in the female bathroom. I hate her and I hope she's suffering intensely or will be soon.

I hope she gets the stomach flu on the morning of every important event of her life, including but not limited to her wedding, and all major holidays. I hope that she has gastro-intestinal distress during every school presentation. I hope that she has uncontrollable flatulence on every date that she goes on. I hope that she, one day, gets pregnant and has morning sickness so bad that she has to carry baggies in her pockets and finds no suitable garbage can in which to stow the used ones. I hope that she...you get the picture. I hope nothing but bad things for her until one day, she thinks to herself, gee I remember that day that I took that green wallet that belonged to Rachel someone, during the weeks approaching finals and gee, I'm a bitch. I should do something nice to the world to repent the err of my ways.

To make things feel a little better, I remembered that I had my Reserve ID card, so I can at least get on and off base until we can replace my other ID card. Phew. You know what though? It means that using it, I still carry my rank. So guess who's getting saluted? Yeah, me. It gave me just the little boost I needed on this shit-storm of an afternoon.

Let's keep that breakdown number at five, shall we?

The Greatest Man that Ever Lived is....

2011-04-19T11:32:00.000-07:00

One of Collin's favorite Weezer songs is "The Greatest Man that Ever Lived."

Don't ask me why the most popular video version has always been a mashup with skiing. I don't think skiing is the greatest thing that ever was. It's kid of a cult-ish song of theirs though. Don't get me started on "El Scorcho," which he also loves.

Seriously.

He is captive to Mommy's music taste. My car, my music, right? I'm not listening to kid crap. Anyway, he requests certain songs and has started singing along, which I heart.

Today, I asked him who he thinks the greatest man that ever lived was and I was hoping for a cute answer like, gee, I don't know, Daddy.

He said, "me, of course, Mommy. You tell me enough!"

I guess that's cute enough.

My concern: that his raging self-confidence will lead to the conversation I overhead the other day at school.

Stoner loser talking to his friend: Dude, it's not like he should have been all up in my business. I mean, my GPA is not even below 2.5! It's like he thinks I'm a bad student.

Stoner loser's friend: Yeah, it's like he thinks you don't study or something!

My friends, that is a pair of individuals who's mothers have imbued them with too much self-confidence. They are, in fact, not the greatest men who have ever lived.

A Turning Point

2011-04-17T10:13:00.000-07:00

See this dude:

You may recognize him, even though you don't realize it. Does this look familiar? I'm not sure why he's dressed as a Roman in this picture. Or, why the horse even looks scared. You are with St George, lil buddy, it'll all be okay!

It's part of the English Seal. How are they connected, you might ask?

Well, that bad ass on the top? It's his shield. He's St. George. That's his dragon. Well, not his dragon; but the dragon he's famous for slaying and saving a town that it was ravaging by eating everyone in it. It's a great story. He's my favorite knight.

To the lady that was being sacrificed the particular day that he rode up to save the town, he says:

"And have no dred, thou swete thynge, for I sall note lefe thee" (no typos there---you too can read Middle English!!)

But in case you can't, he calls her sweet thing and tells her that he won't leave her. At which point, he subdues the dragon and has her tie her belt around it's neck and lead it into the town like a dog, and tells them that they'd better convert to Christianity so he can dispatch of this foul thing once and for all. Nothing like making someone believe in God under threat of devourement, no?

Alas, this diversion of tale was all to tell you that I can't find any good scholarly information about my favorite guy. I want to include him in my thesis and in my seminar paper, because I mean, who wouldn't? He's also got a great martyrdom story where he gets boiled, scratched and all kinds of great and terrible stuff. But no one seems to write about the guy.

This brings me to a realization. I've reached a turning point in my education. I am writing about things that no one has written about, and not because it isn't valid but because I've thought of something in a new way. It is scary. I don't trust my thoughts to be as smart as the thoughts of the forty page articles I'm reading with long and complicated words. I don't trust myself to be able to synthesize and apply what someone said about St Margaret (who also fought a dragon by being eaten and then bursting out of its belly--and you thought what I was studying was boring!) to St George. It's too confusing. While I think that the violence in St George is a perfect compliment to my thesis, I'm afraid to go out on a ledge and use it because no one else has talked about it. Still, no one else has talked directly about my topic. It's all so overwhelming. St George, wouldn't be freaked, would he? Maybe I should just go watch Yo Gabba Gabba.

Collin's Birthday Party!!

2011-04-16T15:07:00.000-07:00

Collin had his birthday party at Color Me Mine, a paint your own pottery place in Torrance. It could not have gone more smoothly.

I was skeptical about it at first because I simply called, told them the date and Collin's name, the package we selected and that was it. They e-mailed me the forms and I sent them back and we were done. I did NOTHING else and I mean nothing.

All we had to do was show up. The did EVERYTHING. I can't stress how clear that is. Everything. They did the decorations, the pizza, the cake the clean-up, everything. That was precisely what I needed right now. The kids all got top pick out a $25 item to paint and they had a great time.

All told, if we had done even small party at home, it would've cost us the same amount when you think of goodie bags, food, decorations, all the incidentals. I was really happy with how it turned out. And, it was nice and short and all the kids had a great time and were in and out before anyone got fussy or bored or frustrated. It was perfect.

I had to go pick up the pieces the next week and deliver them, but that was pretty quick and easy and Collin and I got to try the new vegetarian restaurant next door and it was delicious. The "chicken" either really, really tasted like chicken, or it's been so long that I forgot what chicken tasted like. It was fantastic. Just thinking about it is making my mouth water.

Anyway, I highly recommend that place for a birthday party!

Lest You Think He's Neglected

2011-04-16T14:57:00.000-07:00

We have a pretty good schedule around here on the weekends for homework.

Collin knows that he has to play by himself for a set amount of time (quietly). I set a timer, usually for about an hour or so, and then I come down and we do an activity together.

Usually, first thing in the morning, we make a list of what the activities he wants to do together on my breaks are. I make sure he picks activities that will take about an hour to an hour and a half, so he gets plenty of Mommy time and he doesn't feel neglected and I still get plenty of time to work on the weekend too.

It's pretty easy to work all week when he's at school, but logically, professors figure, eh, the weekend means you have "extra" time. Not so much when you are alone with a kid, right?

But, we make do. He has gotten pretty good at being patient.

Oh, and Slave 1?

In the end, when my Master's is all finished, I'll let you know if I'm more proud of completing that or building Slave 1. It was flipping hard. It took about 7 hours in total. Bryon made fun of me. His exact words, "well good, now you are as talented a Lego builder as a nine year-old."

I am often reluctant to let Collin play with it. It's just too special and every time he touches it, a piece falls off and a little piece of my soul dies.

Some Numbers

2011-04-16T14:50:00.000-07:00

Weeks left in what is supposed to be the hardest semester of my life: 5

Number of major assignments left: lets just break that down shall we?

*Large Presentation in which I have to lead the entire class in critical discussion of a Renaissance play

*Small Contextual Presentation (which I did on Thursday) about Meteorology in the Renaissance

*5 Page Paper comparing The Changeling to any other Renaissance play we've already read (or, to any Shakespeare play we already knew--because apparently, some of us are smart enough to pull them out of our hats--Good ol' Will is not my forte).

*TEACHING (YES!--OH my FREAKING GOD!) an undergraduate Chaucer class. My advisor wants me to teach the day they are reading the Prioress's Tale and go over the complicated presentations of Jews in Middle English manuscripts. There could be an entire graduate level course in this. I'm freaked. It is literally going to be an entire chapter of my thesis. I'm panicked. I know why he's asking me to do it, but boiling it down to a little handout is scaring me. And, standing up in front of a classroom and talking about anything, let alone something I'm expected to know about is scaring the shit out of me.

*20 Page Paper on the function of medieval monstrosity
(let's not forget the 10 source annotated bib that goes with that--due before it of course)

*20 Page Paper on an open topic for Renaissance which I've wisely chosen to be be wildly difficult: Concepts of how the Renaissance audience transitioned viewpoints of Fortune and Contemptus Mundi

*5 Page Paper: Summating Critical Sources for said 20 Page Paper

*10 Page Paper on what I'm calling Sexy Beowulf (basically, why filmmakers take tiny bits of the Anglo-Saxon and glorify it for the movie versions)

*20 line supporting translation of the original Anglo-Saxon Old English Beowulf

*10-20 Page Thesis Prospectus: Have I mentioned I need this to graduate??

All told, that's what: approx 95 pages of written work and about two hours of presentations to prep for? No sweat, right?

So, this is what my kitchen table looks like on Saturday.

Note the 3" binder that has the start of my thesis sources. Those are the ones listed in my prospectus so far. My thesis advisor and I are hoping that will be enough sources to satisfy the panel we've selected. Seriously. And yes, I've read every, single. one. of. them. The big honking book on top too.

There are also, crazily enough, three copies of Beowulf there. I got into a ten minute "discussion" with Bryon last night about why they are distinctly different and why a person might need three copies of Beowulf. He remained unconvinced. I shall not rehash it here for you and just state that I'm right. Since my only class, other than my thesis next semester is a seminar in simply: Beowulf, I will stand on my point.

The other books are all research materials for the various papers and projects.

Last semester, Jen will attest to my "handling" of stress when she saw me at Thanksgiving. My jaw was so locked that I couldn't chew my mashed potatoes. This semester, my jaw is tight, yes. But, with let's say infinitely more stress, I'm doing better. I'm coping. Why? I don't know. Maybe because there's no choice? Maybe because I have to. Maybe because at some point I looked at myself and had a talk and said, why are you doing this?

I came up with an answer and realized that this was my future. When they tried to tell me I couldn't, something snapped inside me. I saw myself sitting in Ilan's (my thesis advisor--oh and this is him, by the way--watched it again this week and I couldn't look at him the next day)

position one day and I realized, that is what I want. It is a passion that I can work at forever. I feel lucky to have found it and I can see myself with a big old Ph.D after my name one day. This is just a step.

So, while I might be tired for five more weeks, or five more months, it doesn't matter. And while my kid seems to keep getting sick every single weekend and making it harder and harder to do this and while the dog throws up on the carpet and while the dishes are always dirty and while I wonder if I forgot to change my underwear, I keep cranking out A's and proving that bitch who tried to tell me "no," wrong.

My only question: how is it humanly possible to get that much work done in only five weeks? Do you think I will survive? Oh and if there are any weird mistakes or grammatical errors in this post, I don't give a flying frick. I'm updating a bunch right now for the sake of speed and requests of birthday and other pics and as you might see, I'm pressed for time.

One More

2011-03-27T21:42:00.000-07:00

Just couldn't resist. How cute is my little family?

Happy Birthday to My Baby Boy!

2011-03-27T17:20:00.000-07:00

I am allowed to keep calling him that forever, right? I'm going to keep telling myself that until he's fifty. Or, at least until his wife (or husband, I'm not going to judge) insists that I stop.

He had a pretty good day, well series of days, starting at school on Friday. They do a "celebration" tradition at Montessori that is actually pretty cool. The child brings in a poster that details the history of their life and for the older kids, they participate in the making of said poster. Nonetheless, the kid is center of attention for circle time when the poster is shared and they do a little poem-type thing after each year and they feel really special. I would love to just share a picture but it is helpful to put the card in the camera when you take pictures, no?

Collin's class has a tradition of the birthday child bringing in lunch for the whole class which I'm torn on. I like them having something special and the kids all having a treat that day, but on the other hand, lunch for twenty kids is not cheap. What happened to the days of cupcakes?

Anyway, that kicked off his birthday weekend and he's been a spaz case ever since. A happy, wonderful spaz case.

Once, for his second birthday, I had the brainiac idea to blow up about fifty balloons and cover his floor with them while he was asleep so he'd wake up to a sea of balloons. He loved it. About once a month, at random times, he's mentioned in passing, "remember that day that was so wonderful that had balloons on my floor?" He knows just how to con me, doesn't he?

I got him some more balloons this year. I hope it's not going to be an annual thing.

He had a great birthday though. He got the only thing that he asked for: a Toy Story Scooter. And yes, it was hard to find. It was last year's model and not exactly at the first store we went to. Why can't kids just ask for milk?

The reaction is worth it.

I feel so grateful to be his mother on days where I can bring him such joy.

I love this boy!

Thankfully, Daddy got to be a part of his day, even if far away. We love you Daddy and we'll see you next week for the real partying down.

Thanks to Granny for so many things, not the least of which is allowing me to be in at least one picture with my son, even if he still does the squinty smile!

Oh, and when I asked him if his mom was pretty cool for knowing he'd want a Superman shirt for his birthday, he said, "Mommy, you are only cool on my birthday." And, so it begins.

Any Guesses?

2011-03-25T14:29:00.000-07:00

I spent about an hour searching for a costume for Collin today. It's sort of a surprise for him because I know how geeked he'll be to wear it and I know if he sees it, he'll literally freak out, go crazy and think I'm the greatest mom on the planet.

Once again, I discovered that my child is into things that no one else seems to be. On Halloween this year, he decided that he wanted to be Jack Skellington, and unable to tell my boy no, I shelled out almost $100 for that costume, including shipping because no other kid wants to be Jack, so they stopped making that costume ten years ago.

The costume I know he'd want to wear to Comic Con is much akin to that kind of search. I suppose he could wear Jack, or, ahem, nothing, but I want to be cool. Wait, that would mean we have to stay home. I guess I want him to be excited about it, that's it. I also want him to have fun and feel like he's part of the action. I'm sure he'll be super-cute.

So, I started my search. Of course, I came back empty. Literally. Not even some exorbitantly priced leftover costume that I could convince myself was "worth it." So, I have to cobble together a costume that can be made fun of by the "true" geeks.

I think I did a good job, and a cheap one at that in my hour-plus that I spent on this today. These are the pieces. Any guesses on who my boy is obsessed with lately?

Add strangely short-short black shorts and a green belt and for modesty's sake, a white t-shirt.

Why do I think he's going to want to wear these boots all the time? You know, as a fashion statement?

Nail, Coffin, Done.

2011-03-23T16:10:00.000-07:00

See this:

Yeah, sorry. It's not a good picture. In case you can't tell, it's our (Collin's and my) official tickets to the Anaheim Comic Con.

Collin, you are done-for. Why? I'm sure you'll have fun there, that's why. Gotta start 'em young, right? What's not to enjoy about TONS of costumes NOT on Halloween? You are going to meet THE Darth Maul. Yep, he'll be there. Bryon didn't understand why in the world I'd want to go, or take Collin to something like this. Because it's fun, dummy. At the very least, it's fun to look at grown-ups, acting like children. No, I didn't call him a dummy.

The only saving grace to your mother not being a full-fledged nerd just yet is that she failed to get you (us) into the best Comic Con (aka San Diego). Why? Because I didn't realize that it takes under an hour to sell out all four days every year. Apparently, you have to stalk their website for the on-sale time and then furiously hit refresh when they go on sale and purchase your ticket. They went on sale in November and apparently so many geeky people went on-line, from all over the world, to buy tickets that they crashed the Comic Con server not once, not twice, but three times, causing nerd freak-outs heard round-the-globe. "AAAH! I won't be able to wear my new Stormtrooper boots!! Whatever will I do!"

I checked a few brokers, no one had any passes. I checked a few people willing to scalp their passes, just out of curiosity. I mean how much could a convention pass be, anyway? Well, apparently upwards of $400 for the one day pass. Because Collin is under 10, he's free with my pass.

I think we'll settle for the Anaheim Comic Con and take baby steps to permanent geekdom, thank you very much. And no, I'm not dressing up. But Collin sure is.

Jen watched him today and she told me that he talked her ear off about Beowulf. I'm destroying my child. At lunch, we had a talk about what's appropriate to talk to others about right now, things like violent movies that mommy shouldn't have let him watch, and what isn't; and he told me that he likes the stories. Poor Daddy is losing his boy to the other spectrum of geek. I'm sure this will all be a (fond) distant memory when Collin discovers math. For now, I'll hold onto it and take my little boy to Comic Con and take as many pictures as possible for ransom in his teen years. He'll already think I'm lame, what's one more reason?

We Have Pedaling Success!

2011-03-22T00:02:00.000-07:00

Next up: Steering!

If anyone other than Daddy, who misses Collin more than anything, can make it through all 2 minutes of this, I'm impressed. But, I think it's pretty cute and I'm really proud of my boy. Heck, maybe Grandparents can make it through.

When not distracted by leaves, he actually goes all the way down the block too. It's a pretty big leap in progress from last week's bloody nose. That's quite the learning curve. What's next week? No training wheels? Then what? Indy cars?

On a side note, one never realizes how obnoxious one sounds until one hears oneself on video doing the "encouraging" voice (that's my way of sheltering myself from saying I sound annoying). And Collin looks like a riding "Toy Story" billboard.

Germ Factory

2011-03-21T07:59:00.000-07:00

This is my son.

I'm taking him to the Secretary of State this week to have his name officially changed to "Germ Factory," as that is his primary function this year and I think his name should suit him better.

As you can see, his friends were all enjoying a school event, which we had to leave early because he was lying on my lap, insisting that he was going to vomit.

He did not, but he did ride home with a bucket on his lap, me driving furiously thinking, please, oh please, just not in the car. I don't have time to sell a car.

Dedication

2011-03-21T07:56:00.000-07:00

Let's take a look at last night's homework situation shall we?

Now, without the added benefit of the flash.

Romantic, eh? Or, what you might call sucky. Damn power outage. Damn due dates. Damn our need for light to be able to read, write and all-around see.

My eyes are tired. I don't think they appreciated working like that for the number of hours I asked them to.

At least the candles helped "some."

What Ruined my Day Today

2011-03-19T14:06:00.000-07:00

It's not that Collin and I spent a bit of our morning at urgent care making sure that his sore throat wasn't strep.

It's not that I was up all night with his fever.

It's not that I'm now, bleary-eyed, trying to catch up on the homework I was supposed to finish while he was at school yesterday.

It's that I got an e-mail this morning from my medieval professor, aka thesis advisor, aka kind of cool dude with very distressing news.

In case you haven't figured out yet, I'm a super nerd. This is my favorite movie. (who said English majors liked ALL stuffy stuff? Sure Wuthering Heights rocks my world, but bring me Connor MacLeod any day).

Haven't heard of it?

Does this help make it seem any geekier? It should.

Well, I found out that this guy, The Highlander, THE HIGHLANDER, man!! Are you getting it? Well, he's in a version of Bewoulf.

I was so excited, I dropped what I was doing because I'm doing my seminar paper for Old English on film and representations of monstrosity. If I went on with what my thesis for that paper really is, you'd poke your eye out. Anyway, I thought, hooray! I can watch Highlander as Beowulf. He's got to be kick-ass, right?

In the back of my head, I knew, deep down, that the movie probably blows. Because, really, "Highlander" blows. It does. I know it does. It's totally lame. It's an 80s action flick about a Scottish immortal swordsman with a soundtrack from Queen. It's awful. Terrible. I think it rocks though. It's one of those cult classic things that you love, or turn off in ten minutes because you can't bear to waste another second of your life.

Anyway, my professor replied to my e-mail asking if it was a good a place as any to start "researching" and he shot my hopes down, and said that it wasn't even worth watching, just for fun. He said it was awful, terrible, and of no "cultural significance."

Of course, I replied that he ruined my day and that I really think the Highlander as Beowulf should be badass and that I will probably watch it anyway...or maybe not, because, as the Highlander says, there can be only one and maybe it should always be that way. (And yes, it's cool to say badass to him, and that, my friends, is badass).

Just looking at some of the screen shots, I'm already concerned. Why is Beowulf dressed this way? It's slightly anachronistic to say the least. I'm concerned for the plot if this is his costumery. Beowulf is set in approximately, the year 500 A.D. What do you think he'd be wearing? Just wondering. This does not look right to me.

Buzz cut? Motorcycle jacket? Interesting. Why? Modernizing him for what purpose? And, the woman seems to play a very pivotal role. There is a great deal of criticism that suggests a feminist take on the Queen, but not so much that I would put her on the poster. Something tells me there's some nooky for Beowulf in this version. Hmmm. I'm freaking you all out with my over-analyzation, aren't I? This is what "we" do. Take math, the answers are easier and don't generate twenty pages of circular analysis that no one but us seems to understand.

I may not be able to resist watching this culturally insignificant abhoration just because I love him so much as Highlander. The man knows how to swing a sword. Besides, a Frenchman raised in a zillion and one countries, most famous for butchering a Scottish accent in the Highlander must do a bang up job butchering Danish or Old English, right?

Friday Night Confessions

2011-03-18T21:28:00.000-07:00

Confession Number 1:
I have come to the startling realization that I'm a super geek. Here's why:

I want to go to this.

An Evening with Leonard Nimoy

Really, really, really badly. He's coming to campus next month. It's not cheap. Damn.

Why, might you ask? I have come to the Star Trek party late in life. Late as in, say the past year. I have discovered that if I meet this man, I might actually fall in love with him. In a very real way. He's so darn sexy. In actuality, I may wear this.

And ask him to sign the heart.

As it stands right now, I don't have anyone to go with, and I think it's too sad to go to an event that will be filled with 40-year-old, single, fat, sweaty guys, and/or stalkers and be there alone.

Confession Number 2:
I'm afraid to admit this...I made the worst parenting decision of my life today. I mean ever. Really. Ever. I feel like if I don't admit it out loud, I might make a similar mistake. Somehow, getting it off my chest, makes it go away.

I let Collin watch Beowulf with me. Good God, I forgot how violent it was. He was home sick and I literally plan EVERY single second of my homework down to the millisecond. There's not a lot of wiggle room. I had it planned to watch that today when he was at school. He was drifting in and out of consciousness and it was rated PG-13.

I knew it was violent. I knew it had monsters. Heck, I figured he's seen monsters. He's seen violence. He watches Star Wars all the time, right? He can handle this. What's the difference between Jabba the Hutt and Grendel? A Wampa and Grendel's Mother?

While we're at it, there's another confession in there: why the crap do I know ALL the Star Wars monsters, including the obscure ones, and all the aerial vehicles, ground vehicles and weaponry? I'm beginning to geek out in way more ways than I'm comfortable with, thanks to having a son.

Anyway, I figured it wouldn't phase him and it's ONE movie. He even liked Little Shop of Horrors. Can you tell, I'm rationalizing? Besides, the last movie he selected in his sleepy, sick haze, he slept through 3/4 of. I figured I was in the clear.

Why didn't I remember that THIS....

was violent...and a little scary for a kid?

Oh. My. God. The worst part? I didn't turn it off. What was I thinking? The carnage. The blood. The men being eaten. The heads being ripped off and bodies lampooned on spears. The dragon's heart being ripped out of his body, still beating. Dude. Super cool. So Badass. The reason I'm in medieval studies. The reason I love what I do. However, not what I want my four year old to be watching. Note this as the moment my child went from sweet to a sociopath and that I'm the reason. In my defense, the last version of Beowulf I watched, last weekend, Grendel looked a heck of a lot like a man. I totally forgot he looked this evil and scary in this one. Note as well that I remember thinking: I'm glad I didn't let Collin watch this as I watched last weekend's version. So, duh on this one, but I digress.

I got totally wrapped up in the movie because, of course, I love it. I eat it up. I can't get enough of Old English and Middle English and I peeked over at him enough times to tell that he was awake about half of the time. Too much. He saw enough violence in half that movie to have lasted him his entire pre-adolescence.

His response:

"Mommy, I'm not sure I liked that. It was a little scary but Beowulf...he's pretty brave. I should be like him. I'll fight bad monsters for you. That Queen was pretty. What was her name?" I'm so relieved that my child is not easily frightened, but that will not be a mistake I make again. This folks, is why I stay up until all hours of the night doing my homework and spend my child's wakeful hours with him. Not because I normally do "inappropriate" homework like watching scary movies, but because my child and I should just hang out and be kids, right?

If anyone ever says, "you pick" for a movie suggestion involving children, please don't hold me responsible, at least for the next six months. I'm on probation. I feel awful. Someone please tell me the worst thing you did to your kids so I can feel some relief. We have all had a "moment" haven't we? Please? Or, just silently judge me. I know I am.

What, exactly, is a Tsunami, Collin?

2011-03-14T17:31:00.000-07:00

Collin's school is collecting pennies for the tsunami victims in Japan. He came home today and separated all of the pennies out of of my piggy bank because, in his words:

"The people in Japan don't have any UNDERWEAR!!"

It was so cute to see him make sure that the "gold" coins all went to the school.

When he was done, he insisted that all his hard work deserved a brownie. I agreed. Man, I'm a pushover.

I love these little interviews with my son though. The things he says, I will treasure forever.

However, I do wish that I felt more confident in his ability to retain information; since I have explained what a tsunami is to him, at least ten thousand times. Besides, I do think that he might be on the right track: maybe a vacuum would help clean up the mess, right?

Remember These Guys?

2011-03-14T10:25:00.000-07:00

Remember Super Mario Brothers? I'm not talking about Wii, or the modern version or anything like that, I'm talking about the original, classic, A-START-START to start where you died Super Mario Brothers. That's the only Mario Brothers I can really talk abut because we don't have a Wii. We never even got past the original Nintendo with the cartridges that you had to smack on your palm and blow on when the games got wonky.

Well, apparently, Mario is back. I have been informed of this through my son. The kids at Collin's school are obsessed with Mario. I'm pretty sure that they are obsessed with some sort of "new" Mario that is played on a newer system. However, he comes in action figures now that the kids are trading. Of course.

One of Collin's friends, "gave" Collin a Luigi last week. Collin, who doesn't make friends all that easily, took that Luigi as a sign that he loved him forever and Collin loved that Luigi like I've never seen him love anything. I think he might have loved that Luigi more than he loves me. That Luigi didn't leave his hot little hands for five straight days; not to go to the bathroom, not to take a bath, not to eat, not to sleep, never. Then, the unthinkable happened; his friend wanted it back. Of course he did. These are trading toys. Collin was devastated. He cried. And not the tantrum kind of crying, the sobbing, blubbering kind of crying because he's really hurt in his heart. I was broken for him.

Whatever the conversation was when his friend gave Luigi to Collin, it wasn't clear to either of them what "giving" meant. His mama is great and I knew if she knew what was happening, would step in and ensure that he would let Collin keep the Luigi but I didn't want his friend to learn that lesson at Collin's expense and have him angry at Collin over something silly. I wanted Collin to be able to have access to these darn things because they are clearly social currency for these boys in his class. So, off we went on Friday afternoon to Target to see if we could find a set of our own Mario action figures so we could not only replace Luke's Luigi but also so Collin could have his own. Of course Target didn't have them. But, Toys R Us did, and Collin was a happy camper.

He hasn't put them down since. He carries them around in a bucket, literally everywhere he goes. He keeps them outside his bedroom door when he goes to bed and beside the table when he eats. I don't think he's played with a single other thing since we got them. He's afraid to take them to school because he doesn't want to be pressured to trade them. That's fine by me. I don't think it's really an appropriate thing to be played with at school anyway, so I'm not about to encourage them at school. But, I think it's pretty funny to watch peer pressure start so young. And, as a parent it's so hard to say no to it when their faces light up when you say yes and you know you've helped them fit in. Man, I'm in trouble when he starts whining for a car when he's sixteen. I hope he gets uglier because if he stays this cute, we are going to have to start taking out loans.

Collin "Learned" to Ride His Bike

2011-03-10T10:19:00.000-08:00

This is how Collin used to ride a bike.

As you can see pedaling was optional. I like to call it the Bam-Bam approach. Remember the Flinstones? How they just used their feet to propel vehicles? No matter how much we tried to convince him that he would be able to go faster using the pedals, he was convinced that this way was easier.

Well, he's been begging, pleading and all out whining that he wants a Toy Story scooter for his birthday. He has a Toy Story bike sitting in the garage gathering dust because he rides it as above. Ugh. I told him he needs to show me he's a big boy and can ride his bike before I think about getting him one (even though I know he can ride a scooter and already got him one...I'm a sucker).

So, we went out and practiced yesterday. He was thrilled to find out how fast he can go when he goes downhill and the wind pushes him forward. You don't even have to pedal!

Yep, I think we might be done practicing for a while. This morning he said, "Mommy, blood tastes yucky."

In my defense, he did finally get the knack of pedaling for about ten seconds before the disaster. And as horrible of a parent as I look for videoing his bloody disaster, I carried him two blocks home, plus his bike, and his monkey. I don't think I've ever felt so guilty in my life for not catching him. He was inches away from me when he went down. I felt like I failed him. I don't think I've ever given him such a big scoop of ice cream. I told him everyone falls when they learn to ride a bike and everyone gets ice cream when they do (secretly saying to myself, when every one's mother lets them down that is). Um, the kid had training wheels on, so it was a pretty miraculous fall too. He's definitely my child.

My Shame

2011-03-08T11:23:00.000-08:00

I have a confession: I'm a grown woman who doesn't know how to purchase make-up. At all. Seriously.

I buy it only when I run out of whatever I last bought, and that usually means they have discontinued whatever it is I last bought because I wear so little, and so rarely, that it has been that long between purchases and I end up in a cold sweat in the drugstore aisle pondering what the hell to buy. Whipped foundation? Really? Am I supposed to eat it?

So, as I watched my foundation getting all oily and gucky over the last few days/weeks/months, I thought to myself, I'd get on the ball and start eyeballing the stuff early and maybe decide what to get ahead of time. I started perusing the aisle during my prescription wait time, and making notes in my phone about what color I thought I might be, etc. They were always OUT of whatever color I actually was.

I finally got online last night and ordered some stuff and now I just have to wait for it to come so I can look beautiful (or exactly the same way I always do because it will sit in my cupboard and I will be afraid to apply it as it will come in a different form than the last item I owned and thus get all gucky).

I hate make-up. Why don't they have a make-up class in junior high? They should sit us all down and instruct us in the finer arts of being a girl so we don't end up being 32 years old and not know how to operate a mascara wand, eyeliner and curling irons. Seriously. I feel like I've failed somewhere. Thank God I don't have a daughter.

Someone come over and teach me these things. Especially the eye stuff. I look like shit lately. I think it might help trick people into thinking I'm sleeping more than 4-5 hours a night so they stop asking me, "are you doing okay?" and "boy, it's getting rough on you, isn't it?" I know they are being nice, and it's nice that they are concerned, and it's genuinely nice that they care, but not when I know that they care because I look like crap. I'm well aware that I look like crap. You would too if you slept on your desk and woke up with your face smeared into the spiral part of your notebook. Is there a makeup trick to cover that?

My (Now) Big Boy

2011-03-08T09:31:00.000-08:00

Ever since we let Collin in on the glory that is Star Wars (probably at too young an age, but oh well), he has been begging to ride the Star Wars ride at Disneyland. Alas, he's been too short. That happens when you were, perhaps, a little too little for Star Wars. We were given a brief reprieve from his begging when they closed it down for repairs a few months ago. However, the argument begs that all the "fun" stuff at Disneyland requires that you be, at minimum, 40-inches tall.

My friends, Collin is now 40 inches tall, as of our most recent trip. Oh, how we have been measuring him each and every time. He scurries over to the height sticks outside those rides every time and then skulks away ever-so-shy of the line. This time, this time, hooray! He makes it just by the hair on his chinny-chin-chin....or should I say on the top of his heady-head-head?

This was the hour-long wait for Space Mountain, his very first, real, serious, no-kidding, roller coaster. (I know I cut off the top of his head but the picture made me smile). No matter how much I prepared him for how fast it was going to go, I don't think I can put into words the look on his face when it stopped. I think he blinked more times in the first ten seconds than he has in his whole life, before he said, "that was really cool." Then he asked if it was a real rocket ship and wanted to go on it again immediately.

He decided however, that the Tower of Terror was not for him, as "saying goodbye to the real world," a-la Twilight Zone was a little too freaky for him. He said he wasn't scared, but that he didn't like it and would rather be in a rocket ship. Okay.

He did agree to stop growing now that he's tall enough for the Star Wars ride when it re-opens and that's fine by me because I took this picture of him sleeping last night because I always think he looks so weird when he sleeps and when I noticed his feet, I thought, my God, he looks like such a...BOY! Look at those things! They are boats! They aren't little baby chub things anymore. They are real, grown-up, people feet. What happened to him?

Oh well, I suppose he can get to 56 inches. That means he can ride everything. Then, that's IT! No more.

By the way, I had to pull the covers off to confirm that, indeed, my child was sleeping exactly the way that his mother does, diagonally across the entire bed, with one foot pulled up to the other knee, the way that a flamingo stands. It's weird how much how children act like us in the strangest of ways. Yes, I'm a joy to sleep with. I take up the whole bed. Oh, and if you are wondering why his pillow is pulled halfway down his bed? It's because he says the pattern of the sheets needs to line up with the pattern on the pillowcase. I swear. As to why he's covered in sweat? Because he refuses to sleep without blankets, or pajamas, despite his inclination to have the equivalent body temperature at night to a roasting ham. And yes, those are still the pajamas that the hospital gave us the night he threw up all over the e.r. He thinks they are magic and insists on wearing them. All. the. time.

Everyone Needs Goals

2011-03-03T09:38:00.000-08:00

This is what insult looks like. This is a sampling of a few of the books I used yesterday and the day before. It is not all of them.

I have literally been timing my breaks to fart around so I don't lose my mind. You know, to do things like look at strangers' pictures of their trip to exotic places like Cleveland, or how fat that girl from high school got; or online dream shopping for things that are completely inane, like pens, anything to pass the time. It has to be done.

Anyway, this is what adding insult to injury looks like. Can you spot the difference between these two pictures?

Too much information? Oh well. Now, I'm sick, tired and have cramps. Damn kids and their germs. Damn mother nature. Have I mentioned I'm tired and grumpy.

My end goal for the morning is to complete about three more hours of homework, shower and then take a nap before heading to class. See my goal. That bed hasn't been made in three days. It looks glorious to me despite how disgusting it looks to all of you. As hairy and awful as it seems, it looks like a slice of heaven to me. In fact, if Eddie stays still, I might just sleep on him. He's very snuggly.

Here, I feel better now knowing that I didn't have to listen to Justin Beiber a few dozen times while the kids practiced their dance at Austin's dance party. I'm still bummed about not being able to go, so I'm looking for the silver lining (and I just uploaded the pics so I needed an excuse to put one up). Goal #2: teach Collin how to zip up his fly better. Goal #3, teach all of our children that they should not be gangstas because they are just too white. Goal #4, come up with some sort of gangsta outreach slogan that gets out the message conveyed below--that their whole "thing" looks a lot like little self-hugs that are really just precious, so in all, hugs not gangs?

Wow, I'm really tired. Maybe I shouldn't revise. It's probably just crap anyway.

Hmmm...A...B...?

2011-03-02T16:24:00.000-08:00

I generally consider my son to be a genius. Don't we all think our children will rule the world with their amazing wit, their compassion, their uncanny ability to amaze us?

Just this morning, Collin overheard a story on NPR about the Supreme Court's decision about the protesters at the military funerals and he picked up on the bit about how they were carrying signs that say, "God hates Fags"

He said, "Mommy, what are fags?

Umm....

In my pause, he said, "And why would He hate anyone....I mean we are all the same, right? Is this the God from Constance's story that He was the good guy in?"

I was blown away (aside from him ending his sentence in a preposition). In my constant struggle to make sure that I raise my boy to be considerate and respectful of other people's beliefs because ours are so different, I make a supreme effort to explain that we don't make a big deal about God to others, and here I was with a little boy who got the most important part of all; that yes, we are all the same. Over the weekend, I'd told him a condensed version of Chaucer's, "Man of Law's Tale" because it makes a great adventure story and God comes off pretty great in that story and I think it is important for him to understand that, despite us not necessarily believing in Him in our family; but, I digress.

I was walking around so proud of my genius son who understood compassion and humanity; and then, he came home today singing this new version of the alphabet song.

My son has known his letters for a long time now, although you wouldn't know it based on his rendition of whatever this is.

Untitled from Rachel McClain on Vimeo.

Here, have another go at it, Collin.

Untitled from Rachel McClain on Vimeo.

Nope, no better. I guess it goes to show that when you mix things up, you really F with a kid's head.

Collin Won't be a Dancer

2011-03-01T10:58:00.000-08:00

Collin celebrated Austin's 5th birthday at a hip-hop dance party. I guess if you have a big sister who takes dance classes and does recitals, you are kind of interested in those things and, as Bryon and I discussed, are much more mellow. If you are an only child, like my son, you are an insane beast who would rather have a party on a spaceship in which all the guests were given real guns to shoot each other in the eye and then beat one another with their severed arms. Maybe it would be fun to have two children once in a while, if only for the peaceful party ideas. Collin is actually having a birthday party this year (his first one since his first birthday--I know, I'm cruel) but it will be at a paint-your-own-pottery place. I'm looking forward to placing bets on which child accidentally breaks their pottery piece while painting.

Anyway, I didn't get to go to the hip hop party because in no particular order, this is my homework list from the weekend:

-Read ALL of Edward II (in case you are wondering, it is a Renaissance play about a homosexual king who is killed by his nobles because they are mad that he tries to share the kingdom with his boyfriend)--this is about 65 pages of that itty bity print that you remember from college
-Read criticism of said play so I can write a paper about it--forty pages of really boring stuff
-Try to write said paper (still working on it)
-Translate Old English version of the Bible's, "Fall of Man" (Old English by the way, is HARD)
-Read and summarize two critical articles about two medieval pieces (both about 25-30 pages apiece)
-Read Chaucer's "Man of Law's Tale" in Middle English

I finished everything but the paper. It's due on Thursday and I'm still chugging away on it. I've got almost no clue what to write on because the article sucked. Maybe I could just say that. I feel like the woman just droned on for 45 pages and said nothing.

Alas, I feel like I should have gone to watch Collin do this.

I feel confident that my son will not become the next Patrick Swayze. He dances like I do. Plus, Patrick doesn't take hug breaks and have to be prodded (gently, and then aggressively) to get back out there and finish his dance. Although, his dancing is pretty adorable, no?

By the way, he now says that Justin Beiber is "cool." Thanks Jen. He's not. Ugh. When we were listening to my iPod this morning, he heard a Weezer song and said, "is that your Justin Beiber?" When I said, "no, Justin Beiber is icky," he got all angry and said, "I love him!"

Untitled from Rachel McClain on Vimeo.

I love school so much that I know I'm in the right field but I miss so much lately. I'm so busy that I forget to switch the laundry for days at a time, forget where I put my shoes and have to wear different ones, forget whether I brushed my teeth so have to go back and do it again. It's one crazy year. I just wish it were over sometimes!

Appendix Next?

2011-02-18T11:14:00.000-08:00

I'm fairly certain that I have the world's best husband.

The card read:

For Rachel. Happy Valentine's Day...And a little extra to replace your gall bladder. You are truly amazing and I love you so much.

See, he HATES these key pendants. I love them. I've been folding the pages over in the catalogues for a while now and then leaving them on the table for a few days before migrating them to the recycle bin because I hate clutter. What a guy.

I also didn't expect a present, so I bought myself one. I was feeling pretty darn low. I was alone. I was mutilated. I was sad. I was hurting. What makes me feel better?

Yes. Of course. You knew I'd go there, right? And don't adjust your monitor, the leather is just that pebbly and gorgeous. For those of you counting, that's four pairs of Frye's now. Yep, it's an addiction. I don't care. They make me, my feet, my soul and my heart happy. Bryon, on the other hand, fully expected me to buy something and thought nothing of it. See, best husband ever. He knew full well that I would do this and STILL bought me a present anyway. Awwww.

Now see, I did feel slightly guilty about the abundance that we can't really afford until the vomit hose that is my son speweth forth at the emergency room on Sunday night and it all started over. And then, when I got it on Thursday, all guilt was erased. Oh, and then when he threw up on Kari's chair on Thursday too, I felt even worse so guilt, all gone. The amount of vomit that I've had to endure sans husband, ick.

I can't wait to see what bounty I bring in when my appendix bursts next week. That's next, right? And we only need one kidney too, right? That's bound to happen too. I'm pretty much on tap for any major health emergency at this point. And I'm afraid to let the dog out of the house or my child go to school. I literally kept him home all week. Worst run of bad luck, ever.

Now, if only I can catch up on the weeks behind I am in this whole "can do grad school alone" thing that I decided to take on. Ack.

Bad Luck - The Definition

2011-02-14T10:24:00.000-08:00

The gall bladder is an apparently non-essential organ that has something to do with bile and, apparently, pain. And, upon hearing that my husband packed and left decided that it would choose this opportunity to fail in my body. Why would such an organ fail in a thin, athletic vegetarian? You might ask these questions. I also ask these questions. The emergency room doctors also asked these questions--to the point of sending me home with a wrong diagnosis. Alas, it failed nonetheless and required prompt removal in order for me to be able to eat foods other than those that you can see through. A person cannot subsist on a third of a cup of Jell-O and six pretzels at a time.

Did you know that they blow up your abdomen with carbon dioxide when you have surgery in order to "see" all your organs? Apparently, if you are thin, they need a lot more gas than if you are, well, large. Your organs are a lot more smushed together and they can't see things as well. This means that you have a lot more air left over after the surgery and it takes a long time for the C02 to work its way out of your system, so for a week or so afterwards, you have crushing chest pains and random shoulder pains that feel like shooting agony. It was a pleasant combination with the stomach healing. And, since I was hunched over from my abdomen healing, my back ached.

I felt like a baby because Jen Roach got hers done last year and she was up and running in a few days. I went back to the doctor because my chest was hurting so badly, I couldn't breathe and he made me feel much better, explaining that my size had a little to do with it and that I shouldn't feel bad, that despite it being done laproscopically, the internal operation is still an abdominal surgery--an ORGAN has been removed from your body. It hurts. A lot. He normally says two weeks off of work and school, so don't feel bad if it hurts.

But, as if that wasn't enough crap storm for our family, Collin, two days before surgery came home with a double ear infection so bad that his ears blistered and the upper respiratory flu. Yes folks, he is impeccable with timing. No worries, Granny was here to cover us with help until Daddy came home.

Not to be outdone on the pre-op end, he wanted to make sure he covered us inconveniencing us on the post-op end and came home this week vomiting. Thursday, just when I was feeling like I could lift the laundry basket, if I absolutely HAD to, he threw up ALL over his bedroom. Gak.

He stayed on the couch all day Friday. All day Saturday and most of the day Sunday. We took him to the E.R. finally on Sunday night because he had refused almost all fluids and food by that point and I was pretty concerned about dehydration. He hadn't thrown up anymore...until...we got to the E.R. at which point he commenced throwing up all over their bathroom. Nice. At least I didn't have to clean it up.

But, the power went out in the E.R. after we'd already been waiting for over two hours and the place was packed to the gills with people and we were last on the list, so I just took him home. It was a tough call but, believe it or not, puking perked him up a lot. As it is wont to do with kids. He threw up again as soon as we got home and ka-pow he's been better ever since. Eating, drinking and normal. Phew. Knock on wood the worst is behind us and we can press on with our lives now.

Still, I made out like a bandit. I got me a pretty necklace from Tiffany's and a new pair of Frye Boots for all my troubles. More on that later.

But that is our long saga of terrible luck for the month of January and February.

I am trying to make a conscious choice instead to say that I am looking at it instead as being grateful for Donna and John who loved us enough to be here for me during the pre-op phase and for Mary who is here now and my Dad who was here when I was first recovering and for our friends who helped with picking up Collin. We've really needed a lot of help. Even my friends at school have been wonderful. It's been rough and we've been very grateful.

Now, It's Seven

2011-02-09T09:54:00.000-08:00

I liked my way of remembering David last year.

So I'll do it again this year. Seven years now. Things I wish I could say this year:

1. I wish you knew that seven years is a long time. You would've changed so much. In that time, I got married, moved and had a family. Maybe it would've gotten better for you. I wish you'd held on just a little longer. I wish you'd known that.

2. I wish you knew you were worth that amount of time.

3. I wish you knew you were worth any amount of time.

4. I wish you knew Collin DAVID.

5. I wish you could answer me every time I talk to you.

6. I wish I didn't feel so guilty for not coming home for the last few years because I know in the back of my head that your grave is probably really grown over.

7. I wish that I didn't hear songs on the radio that made me think, "that reminds me of my dead friend," or have to start stories about fun times we had that start innocently but then end with the awkward sentence, "but he killed himself"when someone asks more about you.

8. I wish that you were here.

9. I wish I'd never seen what bruises on a 21 year old's neck look like when he's in a casket.

10. I wish to never say these things about anyone I love ever again.

I'm by no means an expert on suicide prevention or mental health. But, if you or anyone you love is at risk, please get them the appropriate help. There are so many services available in your local community, from your church groups to mental health facilities, to your family and friends. It can never be taken back. This never, ever goes away.

Casualty

2011-01-23T16:09:00.000-08:00

We picked up Collin's painted robot from last Saturday. Against my better judgement, I let him carry it to the car.

I don't think I've ever seen him so sad. The heartbreak on his face was so dreadful. He dropped it literally in the middle of traffic and stood there and just froze and wailed while I picked up the pieces and cars just stopped around us. It was horrible. I think the worst part was realizing that cars were waiting not realizing what tremendous tragedy had just occurred to my little boy, as if their world could continue while such tremendous pain was happening to my son. I felt so badly for him.

Although, it was nothing that a little bit of lunch at a restaurant didn't fix. I know the way to my son's heart and food is certainly it. Thankfully, the store is in a large shopping center so we just marched our behinds right to a restaurant and we ate. Distraction achieved and I'm happy to say that the large pieces have been salvaged and he's none the wiser to the chips that he can barely see missing. No need to adjust your monitors, it is actually that color(s).

Mr. Robot is happily getting Ms Tinkerbell sloshed in the china/liquor cabinet as we speak and since the doors are closed, they are thinking about....

Building a Star Wars Bear

2011-01-23T15:59:00.000-08:00

Saturday Fun Day with Mommy was a busy one this week. We were invited to a morning birthday party and I ended up going to Santa Monica in the afternoon to pick up a desk. Not to disappoint my boy, I managed to cram in the Build-A-Bear ON Saturday, as promised.

He was super excited and changed his mind at the last minute. He talked about a Darth Vader bear all week. He was pretty insistent that's what he would build. In the back of my mind, I was pretty sure he'd pick one of the other options and just crossed my fingers he wouldn't be bedazzled by a princess choice.

I was right. He immediately settled on a Storm Trooper. Well, technically it's a Clone Trooper but who's being that nit picky?

By the way, doesn't this poor teenage boy look super thrilled to be working the stuffing machine and wearing an apron with the word "love" on it? Get a tougher job, dude if you hate working at a store where you have to hand hearts to kids to kiss.

He couldn't be dissuaded from getting a light saber even though a Clone Trooper doesn't fight with a light saber and would, in fact have a blaster. His argument was that, "Mommy, they don't have any guns here and he needs a weapon." I guess he had a point.

Yes, the light saber makes noise and yes the bear plays the Star Wars theme song so we are noise-d out. It's fun.

The best part about the Clone Trooper bear is that his helmet doesn't stay on properly so he constantly asks me to "fix his helmeNt" for him.

Have I mentioned my son's penchant for inserting the letter "N" in the word helmet and flat-out insisting that it's the correct pronunciation? He will actually go out of his way to bring it up in conversation just to say, "Mommy, did you know that 'helmeNt' is right and 'helmeT' is wrong?" Can you tell he knows that it's under my skin? Having children is like having a crazy roommate you can't kick out, I think. And yes mother and father, I hear you laughing at me all the way from California. I realize this sounds strikingly similar to an argument I had with you around this age in which I insisted that we spoke American.

Anyway, he had a fantastic time at Build-A-Bear and I'm glad he's not too into the whole experience because I'd kill myself if we had to go there a lot. It's an expensive way to spend thirty minutes, even with a coupon. And, we were there on the tails of a birthday party so it was a zoo. He's been carrying it around the house though, so he must love it. Thank goodness. The last time we went, he handed it to me on the way out the door and said, "Here you go mommy, you can have it."

A Way to Hug Daddy

2011-01-18T21:23:00.000-08:00

Forgive the non-edited video but my software was acting funky and my priority was for Daddy to be able to see this sooner than later.

Untitled from Rachel McClain on Vimeo.

I think Collin's joy says it all. This was a great idea. Thanks Hug-a-Hero for making such a great product and thanks Jen for showing them to me.

When he went to bed tonight, he introduced Daddy to Monkey and they shared a hug and Collin said to monkey, "Thanks monkey for being nice to Daddy. Now we can all sleep together and get along." So sweet. This was after Collin hugged his Daddy the whole way home and they chatted about his day at school.

Oh And This...

2011-01-16T13:36:00.000-08:00

We got our pictures taken about two weeks ago. My friend Ashley is a photographer and she does beautiful work. I met her in one of my classes and I thought it would be fun to let her take a couple of really relaxed shots of us just playing and being ourselves at our favorite spots, and to do it right before Daddy left.

We're going to buy the proofs so Grandparents, have no fear, I'll upload the whole 200 and some shots to Shutterfly when I get it. You'll be able to go crazy. They are really lovely.

I just thought you might like to take a look at her post about it.

Collin and Mommy's First Date Without Daddy

2011-01-16T10:13:00.000-08:00

Collin and I have started a calendar system for while Daddy's gone to help us get through the weeks. Collin is having some trouble both adjusting to going to school five days a week and to Daddy being gone, which was of course, expected. So, we have a calendar on the refrigerator that he puts stamps on every morning to check off every day towards Saturday, which is his Mommy and Collin "date" day. (We'll send him to therapy later to deal with the issues associated with dating his mother--what? No woman will ever be better than me for him anyway right? Right? Right?!!)

At the beginning of the week he picks out a Saturday activity and we stamp out every morning towards our Saturday "date" and countdown. He really, really, really looked forward to it this first week and I hope it keeps working as we transition and he has more things to look forward too, like his first visit with Daddy sometime next month!

This week, we went to Color Me Mine in Torrance and he got to pick whatever he wanted to paint. I was a little worried we'd end up with another questionable item, as he selected Tinkerbell last time. He talked about a dinosaur all week, but the T-Rex was $89 and I had to put my foot down.

We even invited Austin to come along. They both settled on robots. Collin chose to paint his robot every color in the store. I'm sure that when we pick him up next week after he's glazed and fired, he won't be as ugly as I remember him. Collin and I actually had some sassy-mouth words about him needing to stop "mixing" colors as he was calling it so he could actually finish the robot before next Saturday's date. He was painting the same spot over and over and over again in hundreds of colors and refusing to paint anywhere else. Alas, it may never dry.

Considering we had two preschool boys in a store chock-full of breakable items and paint, I was very proud of them. Not a single thing got broken and neither one of them was covered in paint. They were pretty good. They only reduced to covering their eyes with the sponges and calling themselves "sponge-eyes" during the last few minutes. Overall, they were really good.

Next Week's Date: Making Star Wars Build-A-Bears. He's already really excited. He says he wants to make Darth Vader. Thank goodness for coupons!

First Fall Field Trip Fun!

2011-01-16T09:44:00.000-08:00

Can you say that five times fast? Probably. It's not a very good tongue twister. No one said it was.

So, Collin had his first field trip of the year this week. It was supposed to be his second but the pumpkin patch farm visit got rained out this year. Can you believe that a farm visit got RAINED out in California! The farm was flooded. Yes folks, flooded! We were saddened.

The Kidspace Children's Museum made up for it, despite it being in Pasadena. Pasadena is a great city and really beautiful but it's also not close and not easy to get to. It's a big commitment to take an entire school out there. The kids loved it.

It's kind of hard not to love a museum that let's you pretend you are a bug, right? It's like a big park. They had a blast.

Daddy, if only you'd left this weekend instead of last weekend and you could've been with us to see your boy climb a rock wall. you would've been so proud. He made it right to the tip-top immediately and promptly fell right off, flat on his butt. The whole crowd of parents did the gasping shock thing and he jumped up in TA-DA stance and burst out laughing as if he thought it was the most hilarious thing in the world that anyone should think it scary that he should fall and then he climbed right back up again. That's my boy. Of course, then he promptly continued to fall repeatedly hoping for more attention.

Anyone in the area really should consider checking this place out. It was really fun. It was all hands on and the kids could play on everything. There was lots of climbing and jumping and playing. The structures were all pretty adult accessible too, so you could easily get in there with your kids.

They did a little interactive show with the kids at the very end that Collin could've lived without because he would've rather continued playing on his own with the exhibits but it was still pretty good. To be honest, I think that the show was a let down for a lot of the kids because they do such a good job with music lessons at their school every day that the "music" they tried to do at the museum was sort of like "uh, why can't we go play?"

Collin was just bummed that the other kids got sticks to play with and he got a shaker egg. I felt bad for him. But, on the other hand, I was so proud to see that his friend, without prompting, kept switching with him when she saw he was sad. She kept letting him use her sticks and alternating with his egg. It is just that kind of sweetness that I love seeing at this school. They really learn to take care of each other. The environment warms my heart.

They all painted a huge picture as a class as an end-of-day project which made me grateful that I don't have the job as one of those museum people who runs these type of projects. About a hundred preschoolers and and uncountable number of paint bottles. No thank you. I'll just go ahead and stand back and take pictures and silently judge. It was a cute idea and the kids liked it.

A Way in Which He is NOT Like His Mother

2011-01-16T09:15:00.000-08:00

For as anal retentive as I am (let's just call that an endearing quality, shall we?), about any number of things, being on time is one of the things I have to work on. I'm not usually very, very late, but I'm usually spot on, or one to five minutes late. And to be so, I'm scampering out the door. Truth be told, I do a lot of math and rationalizing in my head that tells me that if I take an imaginary shower during which I suddenly figure out the secret to turning off the luxurious, relaxing water or blow dry my hair in a land where my hair always cooperates, etc. then I CAN read for seven more minutes instead of two.

Anyway, Collin seems to want to be on time for our future move to D.C. He keeps asking when we are going: as in asking every day, sometimes up to thirteen thousand times a day. It hasn't passed into annoying yet because I know how much he misses Daddy and I do too. All he seems to understand about D.C. is that Daddy lives there and that it snows there. These are the only two facts about the place that he seems to have retained. Someone get that kid a book or two so we can beef up his knowledge.

Alas, he is dressed for the occasion. Daddy didn't have the heart to take his winter hat with him when he saw Collin put it on and ask to keep it. It's not like it's inappropriate for a nearly four-year old child to wear a cap with a Guinness logo on it, is it? Besides, it's reversible, to a different Guinness logo. Wait, that's equally inappropriate.

So, a lot of our conversations these days go something like this:

Mommy: We are stopping at Von's on the way home from school because we are out of milk.
Collin: Ok. And then are we moving to D.C.?
Mommy: No.
Collin: Why not?
Mommy: Because we will have just bought milk and we still have to finish it.
Collin: Oh. Well, I can eat snow when we get there though.
Mommy: It's still going to be a whole year. Sorry bud.
Collin: Ok. (Long pause) Well then, can I have a piece of candy.

Go Fish!

2011-01-10T13:49:00.000-08:00

This may appear to insult my son's ability to count, his ability to play cards, and his sportsmanship; however, I find it adorable. Normally, he can count. He also can frequently play cards quite well and can often find it within the realms of reason to play fair...for a round or two.

Untitled from Rachel McClain on Vimeo.

But, like all boys approaching four, all hell breaks loose when you play more than few hands. Right?

The Holidays are Over When...

2011-01-04T19:01:00.001-08:00

You put away the tree and you remember that at the bottom of the ornament box are Eddie's antlers. He loves them. He loves them so much that you have to chase him to take the annual torture picture.

And, when the boy goes back to school and you have the following types of conversations (like this one that we had on the way home today):

Collin: Mommy, I've never been here (pointing out the window)

Mommy: Collin, we drive home on this road EVERY day.

Collin: But I've never been inside any of these houses. Can I go in them someday.

Mommy: Probably not. We don't know those people. You don't go in strangers houses.

Collin: But strangers are all good.

Mommy: (thinking where am I going wrong?) Ummm, no. No, they aren't.

Collin: But we let strangers in our house.

Mommy: No we don't.

Collin: But what about trees. Trees go in houses. I saw one go in a house once.

Mommy: What?

Collin: It moved. It got up and moved.

Mommy: What?

Collin: The tree was so big that it went into the house and it wasn't a stranger.

Mommy: I'm done with this conversation

Collin: And then it went to a concert

PAUSE

Collin: Can I go to a concert so I can see a tree dance?

Thank goodness he's in school.

Despicable Collin

2011-01-04T18:52:00.000-08:00

We're behind the bandwagon on the whole "Despicable Me," thing. We missed it when it was in the theater. I think we meant to see it but every time we tried to go, Collin got in trouble or something. Anyway, we got it this week and the BluRay thing came with the goggles.

Collin was pretty convinced that he had to have the goggles on to watch the movie. I think he thought that it was some sort of 3-D thing.

Elephant Seals

2011-01-04T18:50:00.000-08:00

Hey Rachel and Collin, whatchya lookin' at?

Come on, looks kind of interesting!

Oooh! Elephant seals!

Mommy, it's just like the zoo only real.

(Yeah, he seriously said that)

Then, when his Great Granddad bought him a stuffed elephant seal, he named it "Puffer Fish" because, as he explained to me, "they all swim."

Christmas Part-Something-Or-Other

2011-01-04T18:45:00.000-08:00

There's nothing like trying to get your (squirmy/busy/active/insane) child to pose in front of the Christmas tree for a nice picture/. I could put up the thousands of failed pictures for you to illustrate just how frustrating it was. Instead, I will just put up this one that says, "I'm pooping on the tree." Silly me for thinking, "oh, you are dressed nice, let's take a picture."

After the Collin-Alone poses, I wanted Collin and Daddy poses. Collin was done with the whole picture thing so the only way we could get him to smile was by force. In other words, tickle torture or fake-dropping him and swinging him around the room. In other words, don't be fooled, while this picture may look like a loving father and son sharing a laugh, it is all contrived and only mere seconds before he was actually screeching to be unhanded from the clutches of his mean Daddy who was keeping him from all kinds of fun.

Of course, Mommy wanted a picture too and how did I get a smile? Good old fashioned, bribery. We were about to depart on a long road trip and I told him if he would smile nice for ONE picture, he could have some goldfish crackers in the car. Did he get them? Yes.

Man, sometimes I think he's lucky we don't leave him at rest stops. It's a good thing that he takes such cute candid shots.

Speaking of rest stops. I have to tell this rest stop story from our road trip to Granny's in hopes to get an opinion poll of my five readers and get some people on my side. While slightly embarrassing for me, I think it makes a stranger look crazy.

I have some tummy issues and they flared up on the freeway so I made Bryon stop at the closest bathroom he could find, which was in this case a McDonald's. I was in there for quite some time, not an hour mind you, but a few minutes. There were two stalls but there was definitely a line forming for the other stall. I felt badly, but what could I do, you can't interrupt the "process?"

Suddenly, a very angry voice says, "Hey you! While you are in there reading your phone, there are SEVEN, that's right SEVEN people waiting for your stall! You think I can't see you in there!"

I was so blown away that I didn't know what to say at first. Yes, I was reading my phone while I "went." Is that so weird? I was bored. I was in there a while but I wasn't done. Anyway, waited a second and said, "Sorry, but I'm not having a good time in here. I'm not feeling well and I'm kind of XXX'ing my brains out. And what kind of person watches a stranger through the crack of a bathroom stall?"

She said, "Well there wasn't any movement in there so I wanted to know what's going on!"

I just left it at that but I really, really wanted to say something else. I was humiliated. I had to exit the stall at some point after that when there was still some of the same people waiting in line. Ugh. I was really embarrassed that I swore when I saw that there was a kid in line. I just mumbled an apology for the wait and got the heck out of there.

So seriously, isn't it kind of crazy to peer into a stranger's bathroom stall and confront them as to their private bathroom activities? And can't you kind of tell by sight, sound and ahem, smell, what's going on in there and leave them alone?

My Man

2010-12-25T18:31:00.000-08:00

Should I tell you that he isn't actually picking his nose or should I let you think that he is? Apparently, he was posing to make it appear so because he knew his dad was taking a picture. Or, so he says. That's my funny guy. A catch, eh?

I think so.

He got some new threads for Christmas and I made him say "cheese" for me. He's a little suspicious of his new shirt. He says it's purple. I swear that it said "burgundy" on the website! I think he looks handsome.

Christmas!!

2010-12-25T18:26:00.000-08:00

Santa's Elves (aka Bryon and I) got to work last week finally opening all the shipping boxes that came to the house, assembling and wrapping. We were sorely disappointed to discover that the bike that I ordered from Wal-Mart was missing the pedals. It's not like a kid needs pedals on a bike or anything. If I ever needed an excuse not to shop there, now I've got one. I fully recognize that this could happen anywhere, but if Wal-Mart didn't get their lowest prices by undercutting everyone else then quality control wouldn't be such a big deal. I cannot remember the last time I bought anything from that store, but I took a gamble. Their excellent customer service upon trying to rectify the problem has only confirmed my resolve to never set foot in one of their stores again. I've still yet to hear from them, despite their "if you need anything regarding this order, e-mail here," line. Ugh. Bryon stood in line for practically half a day only to be turned away and told, deal with the online store on our own and try to get them to either refund our money or pay for aftermarket pedals. All this on Christmas Eve. It's a crappy store in the first place, for many other reasons, and now I just hate it. And that, folks is the end of my anti-Wal-Mart rant. Shop anywhere else if you can.

Anyway, we solved the problem on our own because Bryon got pedals from a bike shop and we had a lovely Christmas morning. Bike and all.

Yoda was there too. With Mr. Bubble. It's not a great picture but I think they look just so darn cute that I had to show you. He's so snuggly.

Is this the face of a happy guy, or what? He opened this and said, "this is what I always wanted! How did Santa know?" He said that more than once. He's prone to exaggeration right now, as in, "this is my favorite!"

We always open stockings in bed, before we set eyes on the tree. It saves the "big" moment. He was still thrilled. One look at his stocking and he said, "MOMMY! Santa was so SILLY! He gave me so MUCH that it didn't fit in my stocking!" He had a few (a lot) presents that didn't fit and they were on the floor next to his stocking and he was just tickled pink with it.

The first thing he opened from under the tree was a Luke Skywalker costume. He immediately put it on. For the remainder of the day, we were with Luke.

I have found that he is pretty much incapable of making a non-adorable face.

See? Look at that handsome guy. He's so stinking cute.

I love this picture. It's pure excitement, throwing the paper over his head to get to his new swords and shields.

This is his "big" present, the one we made him wait until last to open. I took Daddy's word for it that he'd love it and Daddy was right.

It is an Imperial Walker and it might as well be life-sized it's so darn big. It does everything short of actually shooting

And the little man has barely taken his hands off it all day.

My Favorite Holiday Tradition

2010-12-25T17:38:00.000-08:00

Every year, since our first Christmas together, Bryon and I have gone to the craft store and bought those plain white ceramic ornaments and painted them together, wrote our names on the back and dated them. It's my favorite tradition. It forces us to slow down during the holidays, if only for an evening, or an afternoon and just spend time together chatting and doing something that's lets face it, is playing. I love it. They always come out terrible in some way, and it always makes us laugh and we have such fun pulling them back out every year and remembering them. I like to write the city we were in on the back too now, because as it is now, we are starting to move too much to remember every year. And it's only going to get worse...in a good way ! The tradition only got better with Collin. His ornaments are such treasures.

Bryon's ornament this year was perhaps the best one we've ever seen. For some reason, he painted his hugging "people" brown (what the frick are they anyway? snowmen?). He admitted to making an "odd" choice but he couldn't really go back once that first paint stroke was made so the jokes kept rolling. We eventually decided to tactfully call them "gingerbread" snowmen, instead of accusing Bryon of being a closet racist that painted his ornament in makeshift blackface/brown-face. I thought they looked like perhaps little Ethiopian children or something, like it was an ad for an orphanage. It got pretty politically incorrect.

On the other hand, isn't this a charming image here? I love this tradition. It warms my heart. And you know what's better? My sweet husband knowing how special it is to me, went out for me this year to get them because he knew I wouldn't have time to get them before Christmas and he didn't want me to stress out about missing out on the tradition. What a man. I never for a minute forget what I have in him. I didn't even have to ask. It was just done.

I hope Collin enjoys this tradition as much as I do. Maybe it will be something he takes out of here to his kids. Do you ever wonder what traditions will make it out of your house and what things they'll roll their eyes at and say, "thank god I don't have to do that anymore!"

Chistmas-O Parto-Uno

2010-12-25T17:24:00.000-08:00

Being a military family, it's a given that you are not close to all or some of your family near the holidays. Being in California though has afforded us the chance to be close to Bryon's side of the family for these years and it has given Collin the chance to spend some time near some of his grandparents near the holidays. We still reserve Christmas day for the three of us, but it's been really fun to spend this time with them. Collin got to see his Gramps and Nana last week-end and he was really excited to see that "Christmas" was kicking off.

He was even more excited to realize that they brought him more GeoTrax train pieces. Mommy admits that it's a cool toy and that Collin loves it. She just hates how much space it takes up. This is what the new pieces look like when it's all set up. Collin freaked out when they took it apart to try a "new layout." Apparently, my son's OCD tendencies are beginning to emerge with a vengeance.

We are also sharing the holidays with this little guest who found a quite comfortable spot in the playroom while we set up the track. Our friends, the Roaches are visiting family in VA to keep themselves busy while Daddy is deployed and she needed a place to stay. She apparently didn't like the GeoTrax, as the moment it was set up, she peed on them. She has it pretty ruff here (had to do it). She's learned that if she sits, stays, goes to her bed and kennel when I tell her and doesn't bark, she gets a Cheerio, which apparently, she prefers to bits of pepperoni. I know, poor thing. She is ridiculously snuggly and Eddie is jealous. I feel badly for him; so badly, in fact that last night, I allowed my sixty pound dog to sit on the loveseat between Bryon and I. You read that right, not couch, smaller. Don't worry, I don't want another dog. I just wanted to show Jen that she's doing well.

Why I Don't Photo-Edit

2010-12-17T21:07:00.000-08:00

I tried to correct the red-eye in this picture.

I failed. I accidentally hit save. It looks like Collin got punched in the face. This is why I generally don't edit photos. I'm certain there has to be a way to change the size of the red-eye "circle." And the "auto" button worked quite well, but when you looked closely at the eyes on the surrounding people, they looked weird on auto correct. So, I got frustrated and stopped editing.

No one wins; especially not the person with the black eye.

It's Official! Cutest Kid Ever!

2010-12-17T21:04:00.000-08:00

He is now the cutest kid on the planet. In case you are wondering why I have decided to bestow this honor him, it's because during his holiday program today, instead of standing completely still, as per usual, Collin decided to actually perform. That's right, he sang, folks. SANG! He moved his lips and everything!

He sang right along with the other kids. The word must've gotten out that he was going to be adorable because the house was packed. I estimate that there had to be at least a hundred and fifty parents in that tiny room.

He was less than enthused with the recitation of "Twas the Night before Christmas," however.

Do you know how hard it is to identify your child in a gaggle of children, that are dressed identically? It is actually embarrassing. I feel comforted by how many other parents were whispering, "I can't find him/her! Where is she?!" It took about three minutes of scanning to find him.

In my defense, there are about eighty-ish kids at the school, roughly? Yes, maybe twenty kids per room and five rooms. That's a lot of red shirts to scan through. Still, is it bad to not immediately find your kid?

This is the most adorable hand motion ever, isn't it? "He sees you when you're sleeping." It is similar to "Silent Night," which always cracks me up because it's ironic to hear the loud way children sing yelling SIIIIILLLEEENT NIIIIIGGHT. So cute.

What's better after seeing Collin perform, than having our annual picture in front of the Disney tree? It could've been better if it wasn't pouring. Can you tell? Good. We took our hoods of for three seconds and made a Disney employee take our picture and then ran back to shelter. He gets called an "employee" and not a "cast member," because he was a little grumpy. It's the only day I've not seen a photo pusher in front of the tree. Ugh, the ONE day I wanted one there for our picture. Frustrating. Whatever.

Now that Collin has learned the art of performance, Bryon decided to take us to Captain EO this time. Apparently, he wants to encourage him down a dangerous path. Let us know if you see any signs of Michael Jackson like behavior. That was one weird show.

Eddie

2010-12-14T07:21:00.000-08:00

At least Collin has stopped wearing them with such frequency. I'm not sure who looks worse in them. Eddie certainly has an air of pitifulness about him, doesn't he?

Meeting Santa

2010-12-14T07:18:00.000-08:00

If you think that this picture of Collin with Santa looks a little "mischievous," you are perhaps correct. He was a total stinker on "tree lighting" night at Fort Mac. He was awful. He was so bad, in fact that Daddy brought him home, as in "if you don't knock it off, we are leaving." The threat of Santa watching didn't work, apparently.

At least we got one good picture out of it.

Disney--Yes Again

2010-12-14T07:12:00.000-08:00

Collin went to Disneyland with Paige and Austin last weekend. Apparently, he had a good time. It's hard to tell.

I usually think that my kid is the cutest one in the room, but when you put him next to Paige and Austin, they look like magazine-cover children. Don't they?

Argh.

I don't have much else to say except that I'm surprised that the Disney "cast members" don't assault them and ask them to appear on brochures. I mean really. They are so cute.

Future Jack Palmer - Because Tiger Woods isn't a Good Role Model Anymore

2010-12-14T07:06:00.000-08:00

I've been meaning for Collin to try the good old-fashioned "sport" of putt-putt. I swear. I even have expired "Fun Center" coupons on the fridge. Thank goodness Collin can't read, or he'd have known how long the idea was in my head, and how long I hadn't taken him. So busy true, but something else about giving him a metal stick with permission to hit with it made me nervous.

Anyway, Granny and Grandaddy came to visit recently (okay semi-recently: remember, kinda busy?) and they needed a fun activity.

It made me sad not to be able to go but I was happy to let him have a fun new experience, nonetheless.

In my mind, he won and he is probably a prodigy. Don't you think? Since I couldn't see his performance, I'm sure that is what happened.

And no special trip is fun without a trip to Jamba Juice. I love this picture because you can't tell if he's cute or evil. That pretty much sums Collin up in a nutshell.

In a Week...

2010-12-11T11:15:00.000-08:00

In a Week...

My semester will be over:

That means my seminar paper will be written. The one that I have a draft of done but it looks like I was drunk when I wrote it. Maybe I was. I'm so fried, my memory is a little foggy. Anyway, I'm starting over in a few minutes. Anyway, in a week it'll all be over.

Also, in a week. my final in Medieval lit will also be over and my first semester as a full-time grad student will be over. In theory and with luck, I will have two A's and maintain my A average thus far and I will not have killed anyone, including myself. Bryon did a spreadsheet. He showed me it's possible. He's good at spreadsheets. It took him three seconds. It took me the same amount of seconds to determine that I could not figure out that math. This is the reason I'm studying English.

Also in a week I promise to dump all the photos that are clogging the camera with cuteness and allow you to bask in the adorable-ness that is my child. He has seen Santa. He has had some fun with friends. All that "normal" stuff that's been going on. I will update you on stuff. He's had parent-teacher conferences (yes for a pre-school). Among other things.

Also in a week, we will be one week closer to losing Bryon. It's coming. I don't think about it too much or I panic. I will be one week closer to being alone. Without the love of my life. I will be one week closer to having to do this full-time school thing, alone. I will one week closer to having to parent, alone. I will be one week closer to making dinner every night, alone. I will be one week closer to taking the trash out ever single time, alone. I will be one week closer, alone. Does every one getting ready for deployment go through this? I know that a deployment is different because your husbands are in danger and your husbands don't get the option to visit but this feels really, really scary. I'm going to be alone. A lot. No matter how much help we have, no one is your husband and no matter how much he visits, he's not "home." This is going to be a tough year. I didn't mean for that to sound "down" if it did. Anyway, hug your family! Tight!

And, we are one more week closer to Christmas. If you get your cards late this year. I'm sorry. I'm usually on the ball about this. Bryon has tried to help. We have a draft of a letter. No card this year. Forgive us. We're working on it. We've had A LOT on our plates this year. I think Daddy having to suddenly move out is a good excuse, don't you? Maybe you'll get it in January and we can call it a "holiday greeting." We are barely scraping presents for everyone. We were up half the night last night doing that. Almost got everyone done. Phew. If only I could think of something for Bryon. Anyone?

Anyway, this was a long-winded explanation that I promise to put up a Collin-update soon!

It's Not All Bragging

2010-11-22T09:20:00.000-08:00

Bryon and I were innocently eating dinner while Collin was mumbling something to himself about writing his name with his car track. We were ignoring him until his whining about not being able to make an "N" was getting incessant and then we looked over at what he was doing and realized that "holy crap! look what he did!"

Yeah, without any help. We were, no kidding, eating while he did this. He had finished his dinner (all two bites of it, and was playing by himself (right next to the table no less) and did this all alone. He made the letters all by himself and even arranged them. Damn I'm impressed. Please ignore my near-flashing of boob. It's the only picture we have of my son's genius. Can't help it. Maybe I should have gotten dressed for the occasion. You'll pardon me for not bothering to dress right now, between the stress level and homework level, I'm lucky to brush my teeth.

In other news: My dog is, as always rising to new heights of bravery. He has allergies and fleas and he is greeting both items of news with the expected cowering. In addition, every time we leave the house, he thinks we leave the house, or he thinks we are asleep, he sneaks into the laundry room for tasty treats (aka cat poop). He's becoming quite the thorn in our side lately. Fleas and now cat poop. Eddie, we love you but you suck. It's a good thing that Collin has deemed a new purpose for you: dress-up-doll and that in your ever-patient, good-natured doggie attitude, you seem to actually like whatever attention he bestows on you, otherwise we may begin to dislike you for your antics. Although Eddie, I don't know what I'd do without your snuggles right now. Your ears feel like velvet and I'm glad that no matter how much I rub them, they don't ever rub off and you just seem to like it more and more. The other night, when I called you to me at two a.m. and you snuggled into my side and let me rub your ears for two straight hours, you earned your keep, cat poop breath and all. Good dog.

Meeting Jack!

2010-11-17T09:45:00.000-08:00

You would think with all the times we've been to The Haunted Mansion, that we'd have checked "meeting Jack" off of our Disneyland list. Nope.

Collin was so awestruck, that when he met him, he just kept sucking breath and whispering. Collin kept pointing at his own shirt and then back at Jack and finally said, "I was Jack for Halloween! I was Jack!" It was so cute.

When we walked away, he said, "I forgot to tell him that he's the wrong Jack. His head is all squished on the sides and not round enough." I'm sure that the Disney costume designers would like to know that the nearly four-year-old boy has a critique for them. I do, however, agree with him. And everyone in line to meet this particular Jack agreed as well. It did look weird.

He got over it though. We had another weird day there this weekend. Mommy left Daddy and Collin at lunchtime and went home to study. Boo :( They spent all afternoon at the park by themselves having Daddy and Collin fun time. I don't begrudge them their fun since Daddy and Collin won't get much time together soon; but, I missed them, especially when I see pictures of my boy looking so darn cute while I was away.

I met up with them after dinner for Collin's first Disney experience of fireworks. We've held off for a long time because he always poops out by the evening and I don't mean a little. I mean major poop out. He turns into the great pumpkin and it isn't worth the effort. We just figure eh, let's try again another day. Since they have the snow in the street at the end of the show for the holidays we really gave it a try this time.

This is Collin's opinion of snow after the initial five seconds of being impressed by it. I don't think he even wanted Daddy to have it on his head. He was pretty convinced it was uncomfortable. And he was confused as to why it would disappear. Ah, the joy of raising a child in California where snow is a novelty because it comes out of a machine attached to a street post.

And this, my friends, is Collin, no kidding, three minutes after the fireworks were over. He slept until almost ten the next morning. I think that is the latest he's slept, ever. He didn't even know we'd bought him that flashing light saber that he begged for until after he woke up. Kind of a lucky guy, if you ask me. Maybe spoiled is the word. Nah, it can't be true.

Why I Will Hire Tutors

2010-11-12T17:14:00.000-08:00

I went to "observe" Collin at school earlier this week. I braced myself for them to tell me that he's hyper. I know he's hyper. I've met him.

Guess what? He's hyper.

We're working on it. We have some "strategies" and some plans and some other stuff to work on and all that.

What I wasn't prepared for was the fact that my kid is way smarter than I thought he was. See, I do workbooks at home with him because I ask him all kinds of questions all the time to sort of "test" his knowledge and see what he's picking up, because it's impossible to gauge his knowledge. He will persistently exhibit absolutely no knowledge of anything whatsoever, and then suddenly whip out random comprehension of something akin to say, the pythagorean theorem, indicating previous dishonesty of said incomprehension. So, I sort of try to do workbooks of letters, numbers, and all sorts of stuff with him to see what he's getting.

I always fail. Why? He refuses, flat out refuses, to learn from me. It's literally like as soon as he can tell I'm trying to teach him, he can tell that something "educational" is coming out of my mouth and his brain shuts off. I've tried tricking him, by approaching the same information in "toy" format with play-doh, chalk, you name it. He figures it out at warp speed. The kid is a diabolical.

Anyway, I assumed that all the writing work he was bringing home all year, was stuff he was tracing. I have often asked him to write for me at home. Of course, he tells me, "no." He tells me, "I don't know how." I figured the tracing was at least good for motor skills and it was good for him to see the letters and numbers and he was building a knowledge base, but heck he's almost four, he should be getting this stuff, right?

The jig is up, child. I saw you. With my own eyes. Turns out, he WAS getting it.

So of course, I made him do it again.

And pose for a picture. For posterity. Because it's nothing, if not documented.

Despite the fact that he's been doing this all stinking school year without my knowledge.

So, thank you, child for reaffirming my failure as a parent.

Apparently, I am incapable of teaching you anything.

Oh, except lying.

A Happy Veteran's Day

2010-11-12T16:57:00.000-08:00

You might think that, in this picture, Collin is contemplating taking off his jacket. It is, after all, hot. Yes folks, November means nothing to California. Okay, it wasn't "hot" but it was certainly warm enough to wear short sleeves, and perhaps shorts, especially on a hike where you were physically exerting yourself. Collin, however, decided that a coat was not only necessary but an all required. Had we owned mittens, he might have requested them.

Regardless, we had a wonderful Veteran's Day, and a wonderful morning as a family. What a wonderful day to remember that our family, and the way that we live our life is so special and unique. It strikes me that so much of our family is a part of the military and that it is ingrained in us so deeply that we sometimes forget what it means anymore. It has become so much a part of us that it's second nature. Our military friends are our family, literally, and we not only salute you on Veteran's Day, we love you, truly and as people thank us, we thank you, just as deeply.

I'm sure Collin will grow up to appreciate everything that Veteran's Day means, other than an extra day with Daddy. He had a blast running through White Point, despite whining the whole way back up the hill, where he was convinced that his legs would fall off.

To break up the whining, he engaged Daddy in a "stick fight," which was was really a palm frond whacking. Daddy somehow thought that it was not unfair to choose a bigger stick than his son. I disagree.

Collin ended up with a monster splinter from his palm frond. Did you know that you could get a splinter from a palm frond? Learn something new everyday. I didn't realize that they were really "wood."

Apparently, I'm an idiot.

This Makes Me Smile...Every Time

2010-11-12T12:45:00.000-08:00

I haven't taken an American Lit class since undergrad. Why, you might ask? Because I have an irrational fear that Walt Whitman may show up in the syllabus.

And that, my friends, is how I feel about Walt Whitman.

The News

2010-11-09T13:56:00.000-08:00

So, I should probably fill the world in; "world" being a relative term, right? I'm sure there are thousands of you gripping the edge of your seats right now waiting for some big announcement, right? Wait for it....wait...waaaaiiiiit....

Anyway, most of you already know that, the Air Force likes to shake things up in a big way sometimes. Bryon got promoted just a few short weeks ago and we were barely over being proud of him for that when big Daddy Air Force called and said, guess what? You know how you thought you got to stay in California for the "normal" amount of time? Put "normal" right out of your head.

Bryon has been offered a very big job at the Pentagon. We use the word "offer" very loosely here. Let's just put some things in perspective. In the last three years, Bryon has been plucked out of his job at Edwards to go to AFIT where he was at the top of his class, then got the last slot at Squadron Officer's School where, oops, darn it if he wasn't Distinguished Graduate. Oh, then boy holly if he didn't somehow make it onto the radar of the General to become his executive officer. So, when he got promoted to Major, we must've been crazy to think he'd lay low and just coast through his assignment.

Alas, you don't say no to a joint job at the Pentagon that is secret. Do I know what it is? No. Does he? No. Will I ever? No. Are we proud of him? Yes. Does it screw up our lives? Yes. Are we happy about it. Ummmm.....

Pending.....Processing....Processing.....Processing.....

It's been a few weeks and we are still figuring it all out. When we made the decision for me to go back to school, it was with the math that I'd have enough time to finish the degree, as grad credits don't traditionally transfer very well. As in, not at all. So, it was a pretty big decision.

Alas, I'm half done as of this semester. Thus, in traditional Air Force logic, when the big cheese at the Pentagon calls and says, Bryon can we have you in May, oh, just kidding, in February, oh just kidding, in January, it doesn't make the idea of dropping all my credits to move all that appealing. So, what to do?

I'm staying.

For a year.

If I keep repeating that it's only a year, one minute it sounds terrible and the next minute it sounds like it's only a year. I keep telling myself that plenty of my military sisters have done this through deployments without the luxury of visitation rights. We can do this. And heck, we are choosing it!

It's been a rough decision. It's already been more headaches, more stress, more meetings with professors, more phone calls, more e-mails, more arrangements, more decisions, more lists, just MORE than I could have ever imagined. And, he hasn't even left yet.

His report date is 14 January and if all goes according to plan, I have a really heavy semester coming in the spring, and I should be able to join him by next spring, finishing my thesis in correspondence. Collin will be starting school full time in January, which should keep both him and I busy and the time will fly (fingers crossed).

We'll miss Daddy every day and we won't know how we'll make it without him. But, we are counting on a lot of help from friends and family already and if we can survive this year, we'll survive anything.

Boys Just Want to Have Fun (Without Mommy)

2010-11-09T08:40:00.000-08:00

Sunday was a beautiful day for Disneyland. It's pretty rare to find a beautiful day around here, right? I shut the books and went with the family to see Jack. For two hours. I know, I know. I had to go to the library and meet with a group about a presentation, so I had to be a stick in the mud and leave them. It was heartbreaking. I'm pretty sure they were all broken up about my leaving.

Collin was especially devasted about my leaving. He was especially sad because we were eating lunch at the Star Wars Show pavillion. It's not like he was distracted or anything. It isn't like a Storm Trooper came up to him or anything like that. No. Not like one addressed him personally. Nope. He wasn't so star struck that he froze up or anything.

In all, I'm pretty sure my leaving him alone with Daddy made him so sad that his whole day was ruined and we should start looking for therapy. He was miserable. I can tell.

Just look at the pictures. He looks awful. Doesn't he? DOESN'T HE!?

Shut up.

Everyone Should Vote. Even if you are Three.

2010-11-09T08:26:00.000-08:00

After Election Day, everyone needs to tip one back in celebration, right?

Aaah, Nerds. That's the stuff.

My favorite part is that the child dressed himself on election morning, so he looks like a candidate for himself.

When we left the polling place, I wanted to see if he remembered anything about my explanation about what voting meant, what civic responsibility is, blah, blah, blah.

His summary of voting: "we just chose who is in the ruler of the whole world." Okay, good enough.

Procrastination - Thy Name is Rachel

2010-11-04T14:10:00.000-07:00

I have a midterm today.

I have a "prospectus" due today.

Did you know that if you ad "us" to the end of a word it not only sounds fancy, it is apparently "Latin" and thus academic, smart sounding and pompous. It is also no less due than it was five minutes ago.

My prospectus is supposed to be what I want to write my seminar paper about. I don't know what to write my seminar paper about because I hate my seminar. Can I write 15-20 pages about how much I've learned that I hate Romantic Literature? Is that allowed? I'm pretty sure that it's allowed but not encouraged since my professor pretty much lives and breathes it.

My midterm however is decidedly more interesting (at least to me and the other six people who like medieval literature). Well, except for the few questions that are going to be about pronoun declension. If I even started to explain it at all, you would literally die of boredom. I did not know you could/should or would want to decline pronouns. Apparently it's an antiquated system that we have done away with. For that, I say no thank you, I decline the idea of declining pronouns. Ha, get it? What? A joke about grammar isn't funny? I thought it was. Am I the only one who gets it?

Am I studying too much? Perhaps.

Am I putting off the last few minutes of studying at this very moment. Absolutely.

Is it too stinking hot to do anything related to thinking. Absolutely.

And why, why, why is it so blazing hot in the first week of November? It is literally a thousand degrees. And why, when it it is a thousand degrees does my child insist on sleeping with the comforter on? Kids are weird.

Gluttony: McClain Style

2010-11-01T12:49:00.000-07:00

I'm ashamed to say I taught my son a terrible lesson last night. He wanted to help pass out the candy when we got back last night. Before I let him begin, I sorted through the bowl and pulled out all the Nerds. He looked at me with a look of astonishment and said, "but that's for the children!" as I set the tiny boxes on the counter.

I replied "but this is the good candy. We'll keep it for us."

The look on his face was sheer and total panic, followed by a lightbulb, as if the idea of hoarding had never occurred to him.

I spent the next thirty minutes trying to rationalize with him that we should always share and how sometimes it's okay to keep something for ourselves but it all came out like crap, because let's be honest, it was.

And that my friends is good parenting.

Happy Halloween!

2010-10-31T21:50:00.000-07:00

We took a big risk this year. We decided to let Collin actually help with carving the pumpkins. I don't mean we let him do the scooping, or the drawing or watching and letting him think he helped. I mean we let him wield a knife. Not some mamby-pamby orange handled pumpkin carving kit knife either. A real one. Don't get excited, it was pretty dull and it was with Mommy. Nonetheless, he was pretty excited. Don't you think?

And this is Collin about to come apart with excitement because trick or treating just.hasn't.started.quite.yet. Why!? Why?! Why?!

On another note, the "Jack" pumpkin looks pretty awesome doesn't it? Daddy did it and I'm impressed.

Collin was immensely tolerant of letting me take pictures while we waited for Gracie and Ben to show up to go out tonight. I got a couple of really cute shots. I can't get over how cute he looks.

Less tolerant of taking a picture tonight? Ben. Faster than a speeding bullet that kid. Had to be said. Thus our best picture is this: blurry and not together. But you get the gist. They had fun.

Hup Two Three Four - That's Parade Talk

2010-10-31T21:34:00.000-07:00

This is Collin's preschool class...well, most of Collin's class. I'm not saying that my son is the cutest or anything. Nope, I'm not.

But, he sort of is. I'm allowed to think that if I'm his mom. I mean look at him.

Does anyone out there want to disagree? I mean he's even got the parade wave down. What a charmer. And by the way, is there anything more precious than like eighty preschoolers marching around in costumes and waving at their parents? I swear, I love Halloween at preschool. It almost makes me want another kid. Oh wait, they need to be potty trained to go there.

And, just for posterity's sake, here's my kid NOT singing while all the other kids do their thing. You'll note some of them are doing their dance moves, some of them are singing, some of them are doing nothing.

The key is that Collin is very clearly doing nothing except scowling at his mother who has just finished miming to him "SSSSSSIIIIIINNNG!!" Why you might ask? Because he's been singing annoying half songs around the house all week and demanding that I sing the rest of them.

It was nice to at least hear the rest of them played so I could hear them in their entirety, despite seeing Collin just stand there like a statue. Silly me for thinking he might sing this time. Weird kid.

"Dem Bones, Dem Bones Dem Dancin' Bones...."

What I Think Wednesday

2010-10-27T16:34:00.000-07:00

Ahem, hold on a moment while I pull out my soap box….

So, a long time ago I made myself a promise that I would stop worrying myself over what everyone else thought of me and to care more about what I thought of myself. That is an easier promise said than done. Think about that for a moment. It means that every time you overhear someone say something about you, every time you see someone roll their eyes, or you imagine someone taking a second look at you when you think you are having a bad hair day, you have to quiet that self doubtful voice in your head that judges, questions or even rewards.

This became more of a challenge when I had my son and then one day, it became easier. I let things go. I let people go. I let everything go. I realized that to be an effective mother, I had to be a good model. I had to show my son that I had to truly, honestly believe that I am the best me I can be, even if I didn’t always know what I was doing. In other words, I had to believe that I was okay with myself even when I was wrong. I also had to show my son that it’s not okay to be anything other than this.

Being at a place of peace in myself, as a constant struggle, has shown me that the negativity that comes from passing judgment on others comes from a place of insecurity. It is a constant struggle to resist the temptation to fall back to the place of worrying over security of my own identity, a struggle that I think we must all find ourselves in, whether it is in our parenting, our image, anything. But, when we make frivolous, silly comments or judgmental statements of others, we only reflect our own struggle and it makes us all smaller.

Rather than spending hours hashing over in my mind a small comment made by a small individual, thinking of how the dozens of friends I have would disagree with said individual, or said individuals, and how my husband and son would find them insane, and how I could rationalize them away, it dawns on me, the point is we can all do the same rationalization with anyone’s disagreeable commentaries. Everyone is different. We all have our own individual reasons for doing anything that we do. Anything. Ever. So long as no one is hurting anyone and we are all loving our families and being the best people we can be, making our way in this world, why sit in angry, purposeless judgment of one another anyway? Hurtful, mean things, said in spite are just fuel for pointless anger?

A friend of mine has a wonderful quote on her Facebook page that I think is wonderful, (don’t we all just love Facebook), it says, “Being authentic only really hurts those that aren’t. It angers the people that haven’t really come to know how to be vulnerable.” Warren Buffet said it. Who cares about Warren Buffet, but it’s a good point. When you are a real “you” it’s obvious and you aren’t wearing any amour and because of that, those people who are not authentic, and who do hide behind insecurity, feel it is okay to throw judgmental jabs at you. Trust me, our authenticity is protection enough from the harmful words. Knowing who you are is much better than being able to laugh at a joke that you think is funny.

And now, my soap box is put back away. So there, no one be talking about me behind my back no more.

My Very Own Living Bobble-Head

2010-10-24T17:50:00.003-07:00

Someone very special had a 5th birthday this week. That meant a trip to the toy store for us. Mommy had just gotten a phone call from Collin's gymnastics teacher regarding his "distracting" behavior and how, while he's a precious kid, we have to sit with him in class from now on to help encourage him stay on task a little better. I was feeling a little sad for my boy and a little frustrated and a little worried and a little sure that this isn't the first time a teacher will call about my, let's just call him, exuberant, child. So, what better way to make us both feel better, than to buy him a present?

Like say, the coolest present ever? He was so excited! He loved it. He couldn't wait for Daddy to get home so he could fight him. The buttons make all the Darth Vader sounds and the orange button morphs your voice into DV's voice. Well, approximately. For Collin, it just sounds like a chipmunk with a scratchy throat.

Don't worry though, we did remember to get Gracie a present too. And she had a fun party. It isn't a party unless someone loses their pants. Thanks, Collin for making sure that someone was you.

A Stroke of Genius

2010-10-21T14:17:00.001-07:00

Starting last Thursday, I was knocked flat, and I mean F-L-A-T with a migraine that was so wicked, I had Bryon take me to the hospital. I almost never do that because it's a major commitment. One, you know the doctors are going to triage you at the bottom because, let's face it, you are not dying, just in pain. Or, they might, on an off-chance think you are dying of an aneurysm or stroke, or something and triage you to the top, but refuse to treat your pain until they do an MRI or something. All very logical, but sucky when you are shaking. Either way, you are waiting forever until you get treatment. Two, chances are, you won't get treated until they are convinced by either your demeanor your your medical record that you are, in fact, not there because you are really just a drug addict, after a quick fix because what they will treat you with is the "good stuff." Alas, it was really, really bad; so bad that I went to the E.R. as late as 10 pm after class and was there all night. I didn't get out of bed again until Monday. Needless to say, I missed Collin. A lot.

How do you make up for missed time with your little guy? Well, you do stuff that he adores every second you have with him.

Case in point, the minute he got home from school on Monday, we had painting time. We painted for probably two hours while we waited for maintenance to show up. We don't have any smocks so I told him to take off his clothes and he insisted on wearing an apron because that's what he wears at school.

Homer, ever the curious cat, insisted on getting involved. I'm surprised he didn't end up panted.
I just love how happy he looks when he's doing something like this. Last year, I would've said an afternoon like this would've given me gray hair. This year, after Montessori, I could have left the room for an hour. He followed all the directions I gave him about rinsing the brush between colors, not using too much paint, making sure the brush was totally clean, everything. He closed all the caps. That school is worth every stinking penny. He knew it was fun but how to stay on task because it was an "activity." I was in awe of his focus.
There was absolutely zero mess. It took me less than ten minutes to clean up. He probably didn't even need an apron. There was barely even any paint on his hands. I was totally shocked. I had more paint on my hands because one of the containers had an air bubble and it popped in my hands when I opened it. I was just so proud of my little guy.
Such a good boy. And has anyone noticed how handsome he is? Just wondering. He's pretty darn special, isn't he?

"But I Slept on My Ear?!"

2010-10-21T14:13:00.000-07:00

Collin doesn't understand why his hair would be sticking up if he sleeps on his ears and not his head. Someone explain bed-head to the child.

Oh, and is it terribly wrong that I never, and I do mean never comb his hair for school? I don't mean that I don't do it out of neglect, I don't do it because I simply think that his hair looking all messy like this is just way too cute for words and I love it. How long can you get away with looking foolish like this? Twenty, thirty years?

Happy Feet

2010-10-21T13:58:00.000-07:00

Are you aware of The Frye Company? Don't worry, if you aren't. I wasn't until about three years ago. I'll wait while you click the link...

Are you back? If you were gone for about ten hours, I understand. The first time I actually saw a pair of Frye boots at a Macy's I almost cried. I touched them and they had to be mine. I didn't buy them for over a year but I talked about them pretty much weekly and every time we went to Macy's, I made Bryon look at them, and I tried to get him to admit that they were, in fact, heavenly. He did not agree. There was a significant amount of eye rolling.

He insisted that $300 plus dollars was an absurd amount to spend on anything you step on. I disagree. They smell nice. Once I put them on, I was sold.

Meet my third, yes third, pair of Frye's.

Look, they have buckles! Bryon says I look a little like a Musketeer, as in "Three." I say, they still make me as giddy as that first pair did and they make the entire house smell like leather (says the vegetarian).

I suppose I could have taken a better picture, but they just came a few days ago and it's been raining cats and dogs and I haven't been able to wear them until today and I don't want to take them off. Wait, logically, I suppose I could've taken a picture when it was raining. Oh well, this is what you get until I invent a time machine.

And, I keep pointing out to Bryon that the box insists that they last a "lifetime," so I'm building a "collection" that I plan to wear forever. Yep, that's the story. I am not kidding. Not one bit. What? I could be addicted to crack. This is much less harmful.

Some Frustration--Leading to Craziness

2010-10-17T14:21:00.000-07:00

I can't figure out how to do a blog post in word. It has made me so mad that I would almost, almost like to throw this otherwise wonderful Mac out the window and let it crash into a thousand pieces. That tiny application alone has infuriated me. Why, why, why won't you scroll when I upload a picture? Why? WHY! And when I try to find a way around your infuriating little flaw, like say, doing a post in another program other than blogger, why is it impossible to find? WHY!? WHY?! WHY!!

Collin is dealing with his crazy Mom by becoming a nut job himself.

This is Collin.

This is Collin playing a disturbing game he me made up called "decorating a baseball bat." Oh, and why isn't he wearing pants, you might ask? Because he said, "it was more convenient to leave them off because I will be taking a bath soon." It was five o'clock.

This is Homer. Homer is always crazy. No need to associate him with my nuttiness. He sat on my homework no less than a dozen times that morning and gave me "that" face that said, if you don't pet me and stop pushing me on the floor, I will eat your face when you sleep.

This is Collin again. As if you even needed to guess. He decided he didn't need a nap the other day and instead, went spelunking in his drawers and dug out these overalls. Apparently, we didn't know we still had them, and took a fashion-risk. He felt they were stunning. I agree.

By the way, seriously, if anyone knows how to blog post via word on a Mac, I will sell you Collin to tell me. No, it isn't as easy as New/Open and viola it says "blog post." It doesn't.

And Here We Go...

2010-10-10T18:59:00.000-07:00

Can you tell that this is my first blog post on the Mac? I can. I'm nervous. Collin says, "pfft!"

So far, it's going relatively well. I didn't have any trouble uploading any pictures. I haven't had any trouble working with Word for my excessive amount of homework or any trouble getting online, or any trouble with anything. My main concern, a-la blogger is that when it does come to selecting photos, their thumbnail views are so itsy bitsy, that I can't really see what I'm picking. Anyone have any tips on that? I can still tell that my husband looks pretty handsome, doesn't he?

Anyway, we had a pleasant afternoon in the blazing California heat, selecting a pumpkin. It isn't fall in California unless you are sweating to death picking your fall pumpkin. It's always so weird. Without the camera zoomed it, you can't see Collin's pit stains. You're welcome.

Zoom: Sweaty meatball. He's awfully cute with rosy cheeks though, eh? I think so. I don't pull off the "glow" as nicely.

Also weird: whenever anyone else is around, Collin's complete and total willingness to forgo sitting with his mother. And, I do mean anyone. It could be a hobo, Collin will absolutely shun sitting by me and sit by an axe murderer for sheer novelty. No, I'm not offended.

It's okay, I left him in the corn maze as punishment. He felt it was a reward. Darn that kid is hard to punish.

I thought that his insistence on posing in all the cut-out pictures was pretty funny though.

Death by Crushing

2010-10-08T11:25:00.000-07:00

The year before last, we were invaded, yes invaded, by some seriously large spiders. I never took any pictures of them, just take my word for it. I think we might be in for it again this fall. I'm afraid to leave the house because there are a bumper crop of them lurking at the entry way. This is only one of them.

Now there is one less. Yep, those are his gross little guts

. I was left no choice. His legs were red! Red, people! Red! When a spider is that big and he rears his legs at you, rears!! You must kill him. I swear he was actually wagging his butt too. It's like he was big enough to have independent movement of all those gross little parts. It was creepy.

Despite the creep-factor of the season, Collin agrees. He's a little icked out about the whole spiders lurking by the door thing too. I'm almost about to call Tierra Vista maintenance to spray the house but eh, I don't trust them.

Collin: The Science Kid

2010-10-07T09:47:00.001-07:00

I wonder what they whispered on the whisper-ma-phone? Last time I was with Collin at this place, he told me, "I love you," over that thing. It was pretty cool. I have a sweetie pie for a son.

I don't know because I wasn't there. I was at home. Doing homework. I'm not complaining. Nope. Not at all. (Okay, a teensy bit, but only when I find out I missed moments like this).

It turns out I'm loving half my classes and not the other half. It is my final decision that Romantic Literature sucks. So, I'm working hard at making sure I spend the rest of my Master's in the Medieval period and working toward a focus in that, perhaps even a (gulp) thesis. But I don't wanna. Maybe if I show my advisor that previous sentence, I'll be excused.

Anyway, my boy is lucky. He has such a wonderful family. They all came down to see Bryon get promoted and couldn't wait to spend the day with Collin doing whatever his little heart desired. He was so happy to spend the day there. I was sort of hoping they would have an exhibit explaining the word, "echolocation," because he learned it a few weeks ago in passing somewhere and he's been using it inappropriately ever since. Alas, no. They did however have lots of "ecosystem" exhibits apparently, and he's now been using that word inappropriately.

I'm not sure what the heck this thing is, and I'm not sure that I want to know. I'll just go ahead and assume that Collin, and other children, are allowed and encouraged, to be swinging from that rope. Maybe it has something to do with "gravity." But, look folks, California has leaves that change too. We do have "seasons."

And, I don't mean to say that he's saying "Hey you! Ecosystem-head!" No, he just uses it slightly out of context like; he shouts at the top of his lungs and when he tell him to be quiet, he'll say, "but I'm using echolocation." Or today, he said, "my house is a good ecosystem, right?" Oh Collin, you are so darn cute.

Parenting Fail #3,762

2010-10-07T09:31:00.001-07:00

Collin was disgruntled that I stopped a movie he was watching, while in progress yesterday. I have managed, in the nearly four years (gasp!) of his life, to stick to the minimal T.V. rule and yesterday, as he was watching a movie that he'd never seen before, I started asking him questions, like, "who is that character?" and "what are they doing?" He couldn't answer me. Not because he wasn't able to peel his eyes away, but because he was so zoned into the movie that it was just flashing pictures to him and he was a zombie. They might as well have been anything. If you are watching a movie and can't even name one character, it's time to turn it off according to the mantra of Mama. Thus, he was mad; so mad in fact that he took it upon himself to instantly rebel.

Three to five seconds after I turned the movie off, I heard the playroom door slam and then re open with the announcement, "I wrote on the door. And, I did it ON PURPOSE!" So, little boy, you got your revenge. So you think. Your cowboy pen that Granny got you, that was so special? Yep, it's gone. Sorry. Sorry Granny too. Poor pen. We just don't do things like write on our house. And we certainly don't do it as revenge. And, the best part of this whole scenario is I set him up with a bucket and water to clean the mess up and told him he couldn't play until every bit was cleaned off. I probably should've realized that soapy water would've been a party too him. I just hope he doesn't color on more walls as an incentive to get to scrub again. Punishment: backfire. He scrubbed all the shoe scuffs, everything. Oh well. You win some, you lose some.

I'm Not Calling Him, Sir. Don't Ask Me.

2010-10-04T16:06:00.000-07:00

Last time Bryon got promoted, we'd been dating all of two weeks. We were in the same squadron and Bryon insisted that, at his ceremony, we were two people who still barely knew one another, lest we break up and have it float all over the squadron that "those two, 'you know....'" We ate a lot of leftover cake that weekend, that he promptly kept at my house...where he had already been staying and didn't leave again for um, ever. I consider him a squatter.

This time it's safe to say he is willing to admit we are "together." Things have changed. (P.S. had I known my bra was showing this whole time, I would have "adjusted." Ugh. Donna said she didn't notice and that all she noticed was my skinny waist. I guess she's forgiven).

It is amazing to see the change in our lives of a block of time that a rank means. Our son, our son did his rank with me. Wow.

And as proud as I am of him, listening to the General list his accomplishments, I can't help but realize that this is really the long haul we are in for. Award, award, award, award, all of which Bryon refuses to tell anyone about because that's not his style. I wouldn't have it any other way.

I love this life of ours and I can't wait to see where it leads and I'm proud of my husband despite his refusal to be proud of himself. I mean Generals don't take time out of their days to promote Captains to Majors every day. Sometimes, it takes your family to tell you, "you done good."

Oh, and just in case you want to think he's all important; this is the last picture on the camera before the ceremony shots begin.

I cut his hair on Saturday night so he wouldn't look like a ragamuffin. Cleanup is always hilarious to me, especially when it involves nipple vacuuming.

Oh yeah, obligatory, "I love my wife, and she gets flowers for putting up with me when I'm promoted...."

Part two. Aren't they pretty. They smelled so good, they stunk up (is that the right word? how about fragranced?) the whole room. I had to divide them up. Pretty big bouquet. Maybe when he gets promoted to Lt Col, I will ask for a car.