Crocodiles in the Waves

Where to start?  School has... begun.  I might still be a little on edge about the idea since I had a crisis of faith when reading one note sent home by a teacher that needed more punctuation.  Much more punctuation.  I have to think how to spell 'necesary' and 'grammar' and 'calendar', and don't always get it right, and blogging doesn't exactly reinforce a rigid code of complete sentences (*cough*) but this is a teacher. She should be able to diagram sentences in her sleep!  Or I might have been looking for reasons to find fault, since she has been entrusted with my child's mind and physical safety and there is just no way she could ever, ever be good enough.  Hmmm.  Whaddya think?

A clue.  In case y'all didn't get it either. 

Speaking of diagramming sentences, one of the new kids at work needed a letter approved by his supervisor. He was joking about her using her (tiny ballpoint) red pen and, in what I thought was a brilliant piece of timing, I handed him the giant red Sharpie I conveniently had in hand and said, "That's not a red pen, THIS is a red pen".  He didn't get it.  One more sign I am working with children.  Maybe if I became an actual teacher I'd have an excuse to use my giant red Sharpie AND I wouldn't feel bad about being 159 years older than everyone else in the room.  Apparently diagramming sentences is no longer a requirement.

And in another sign I might still be a little worked up about school (and that I shouldn't leave the TV on all night during Hurricane Coverage), I woke up the other night with my heart pounding because I dreamt (yes, I know, Dream Post Alert!  Sorry!) that we were at the beach and the kids were swimming in the waves and then they just disappeared.  [Actually, weirder, only one was missing but I wasn't sure which one] I dove under, swam around, couldn't find them - you know, your standard kids-are-missing-panic-dream.  In the light of morning, the beach and school aren't obviously connected but something about sending them out into the world & waves alone. 

Jeez, what with all the keening & kvetching around here you'd think my kids are the first ones in the country not to be homeschooled!  And no, even with all my fretting and cheap Freudian dreams, even I know that would be a terrible idea.  They need to meet different people with different perspectives, different repetoires -  people who teach her, for example, crocodile songs. [Ha! Too much? Couldn't resist!] 

Anyway, we have some logistical issues to work out.  There was a minor bus issue that left me leery & I hate that my kids are in daycare for 10 hours a day.  I'm trying to get back to a 4 x 10hr/day schedule so they're only in their respective baby jails 3 days a week (Matt gets Fridays off - we'd have a full-family day on Saturday) - Which is also partial explanation for my long catch-up hours at work and absence here - I missed you guys!  Am off to tackle my reader's 200+ items.... 

Operation Interlude, Day 3 (?)

Mommy playing with

photo editing - superb

time management? ....Noooo.

Operation Interlude, Day 2

Nice shoes, Mom. Keepin'

it classy?  Our hearts remain

In San Francisco

Taken during our trip west last March.  Yes, THAT one, with all the disastrous flights.

A Seasonally Inappropriate Non Sequitor

Both my sister & my mom have lodged formal complaints to the blogger-in-chief so in an effort to mollify the family – yes, am still here.  No, nothing tragic has happened.  Yes, we will return to regularly scheduled programming shortly.  I’ve been working crazy long hours lately on top of long runs, a sniffly child, helping with homework (in first grade!?!), etcetera… But no one wants to hear my excuses. 

Introducing Operation Interlude:

Pumpkin baby pie

Whither the chubbiness? Now

He’s all ribs. Beanstalk!

Random, previously unpublished baby picture, taken 74 months ago (Probably taken by Auntie M).  Nowadays he has math homework.  Now how the ____ did that happen? 

Best stock up on the sunscreen

....because we'll be moving to that island NOW.

http://www.cnn.com/2011/CRIME/08/18/missouri.school.rape.claim/index.html?iref=obnetwork

This is exactly what I wanted to read on my daughter's 3rd day of school.
And in our own state, no less.

If you're into wallowing in the horror of it all, the actual complaint can be found in PDF form here.

My baby rode the shortbus

Both kids started school today.  A fact I have not processed and may not because
     ~I'm emotionally dead inside
     ~Denial, it's not just a river

     ~There is a tsunami of guilt and fear and pride and love all swirling around in a bubbling cauldron and if I tap on the dam it might just break and then there would not be enough chocolate or red wine or kleenex in the state to stem the flood.  Or fix my metaphors.

More later, but one of my girl's teachers took pictures.  I asked her permission to post but didn't hear back - am assuming it's ok since, you know, she's my child but please note photo credit belongs to Mrs C... because I wasn't there (massive heaving sobs).  Matt was, and met the bus driver and aide, and trailed them most of the way to school - to verify what, exactly, I'm not sure, that the driver wasn't pulling over for a quick cig? - but I told him too.  I can't believe I wasn't there.  I can't believe we have use the bus.  I also can't believe I am mother to a first grader.  I can't believe we didn't get pictures of that.  Not a great parenting day. 

And one more... late. again. of COURSE.

Without calendar
I appear to be. So lame.
A million sorrys.

Happy Birthday little-
est brother. Not so little
today. L'chaim!

What's with the party hats? 

Nothing but parties around here.

Happy Birthday Dear
Matt. 12 Years and I still Love
your hugs and coffee.

You snore. Sometimes you
Won’t share ice cream. Your laundry,
strewn about, knee high...

So little like me
Yet my partner for all time.
Forty One more years!

 [Both photos again

courtesy of she with the

better camera]

Happy Birthday Little Girl

Your 3rd birthday was actually a week or so ago but we celebrated on Saturday.  I wanted this to be the Post to end all Posts but mere words cannot convey how very very lucky we are that you have graced us with your presence.  You have enlightened and blessed us all.  Happy Birthday Sweet One.

Now let's get this party started!

Where's the cake?
They promised me cake!

Fine.  If I can't have any cake yet,

I'll just sit in the hallway alone, eating crackers.

It's my party and I'll snack if I want to.

Socialize?

Who do you think you're talking to here?

Oh, you mean this guy?  He's ok, I guess.

...And then the balloon went *BOOM*!

It's not a party till we break out the cowboy hats.

Books are the Best Presents Ever.

...And then the bunny went *HOP*!

Finally!  Goodness, people, bring on the cake already!

NOW it's a party!

As Donkey says, a party ain't a party till somebody cries.

Ed:  Photo credit for #7 & 8 to my SIL.

It was hot, but there was water.

Prologue:  I once took a class on Middle East politics and the professor began by saying we were going to talk about religion, tribalism, imperialism, and oil politics but the real problem there is that it's hot, and there's no water.

~~~~~~

So… given someone’s friendly pressure to break me out of my social isolation, I leapt on a recent sweet offer and last Sunday, I am proud to announce, we had our first ever IRL (in real life) playdate with no less than the famous RK of Just RK and her incredibly cute kids.  They are all exactly as awesome as they seem to be on screen & a big thank you to RK for making the time to meet us after a long day at work.

HOWEVER, I had the great idea to meet at the park.  To wit:  outside  (Just in case that was unclear).  In the middle of heat wave.  Genius.  In my defense there WAS a splash zone, but the kids, being kids and immune to logic or heat stroke, quickly tired of the water and wanted to swing instead.  Five minutes spent pushing two kids and even my shins were sweating.  Which, yes, is gross but “it was a just a tad warm” just doesn't convey the same level of OMG - HOT!

So I suggested milkshakes to cool off so we could chat more without melting.  Except the milkshake place was not where I remembered it and I panicked a bit, thinking this was the saddest first introduction ever, and also a bit worried that RK, who was following behind me in her car, might be thinking I was driving her around in circles thru this maze of chain stores in some elaborate con, so I pulled into a different fast food/shake-like place.  Except I pulled into the only fast food joint in the history of America that doesn’t have indoor seating (Thanks, Sonic), where we had a lovely time - if you don’t mind sitting in the middle of a parking lot in 100 degrees with flies buzzing around your food.  A party planner I am not.

Nice going, Mom! 

Luckily RK was incredibly gracious and easy going about the whole thing, and I haven’t been served any restraining orders yet, so there’s that.  On a serious note, she said something that stayed with me – we were chatting about the NDSC convention and our hopes of going next year, and she said she wanted it to be something special for her daughter to look forward to every year.  It would be her thing.  And it suddenly dawned on me that as nice as these playdates might be for me, how fantastic will it be for my daughter to have that circle of friends and support available to her as she grows up?  THAT is enough motivation to get my shy awkward self out onto the dance floor.  ...Assuming there’s air conditioning, of course.

Sorry, only pictures of my kids today, taken when we first arrived, before they scattered.

Ruffle butt!

Chances Are

...it probably really wouldn't be like fen-phen.  But you know I can't pass up a chance for cheap sensationalizing.  By way of explanation, I have my first ever guest post (!) up over at Baxter Sez, which is running a series on the recent NY Times article, A Drug for Down Syndrome.  Click on the blue parts & see what all the fuss is about!

[Also please note the very awesome introduction.  Shucks, I think I might have even blushed!]