So many very different things.

Adj. Queen you wanted a Thanksgiving story. Well it didn't happen did it? But the following weekend we had a family birthday party. I got to eat at the big people table this time. Now I have something to share-- I watched my big brother scoop a huge portion of food into his mouth, not realizing that it was piping hot. The next thing I know is he is leaning over to his wife who promptly blows into his mouth! I was completely shocked and grossed out. I mean this apparently was not the first time they've done this. I mean, it was obiviously a practiced movement.

My next bit of news is a new hypothesis, I think PF works so late because he doesn't want to get too close to the children. He doesn't want us to get too use to his presence at home. I think he worries about dying and leaving us a lone. What I mean is. The girls and I have dinner alone so much these days that it seems like we are the core family memembers. Of course when I shared this idea with my mother and my sister they both said he's a workaholic.

MI has a Christmas program tonight. She is really excited about it and is worried that we will miss it. Yesterday MI told me that fathers couldn't come to the program because they don't clap very well.

We are under winter weather right now. We lost power Monday around 9:45 AM. We played games; did some crafts; and read books. We have gas fireplace so we turned it on and stayed in the living room most of the day. Sister Sister called and asked for a ride to the rental place because a tree fell on her car. My sister, I don't get mad/I get even, had a branch glance off her car removing the side mirror and small ripple dents. PF and I measured our bed and then went out to the sofa and measured it. The bed there was wide enough so we planned to spend the night in front of the fireplace with all 5 of us in bed.

What actually happened was the girls and I slept on the pull out bed and PF slept on the floor. It was a challenging night because the electricity came back on at 6:45 PM Monday night the girls were all bummed out because they wanted to spend the night sleeping on the bed in the living room. So we did because we didn't know if the electricity would go out again.

Tuesday school was still out. The pull-out bed remained pulled out. The girls and I watched movies from late morning into the evening. In the morning we played games. I had held back a game from the girls. I brought that out when it looked like they were going to forget that they are sisters. The name of the game is Mr. Mouth. Well it was a lot of fun. It challenged the girls, and I explained the concept of trajectory to them. Fun and educational. Huh? MI got frustrated and spent her time throwing the flies into the mouth by hand. (And not the hand on the game).

By Wednesday I was sure the girls were ready to go back to school. I was so relieved when their schools were opened and they could go to school and I could go to work. Don't get me wrong the girls were very well behaved during this time I just don't think Wednesday would have gone as well as the last 2 days had.

All I want for Christmas

ST lost her other front tooth on Monday. I was so proud of her. Why? Because she pulled her own tooth!

ST was so excited when I picked her up at school Monday. She told me that she went to the bathroom and pulled her own tooth. I have to report that she looks adorable sans the 2 big front teeth.

It was funny how quickly that tooth got loose. She went around for days with that snaggly tooth look. I swear that there were times when I thought that tooth was swinging back and forth. That's when I would check it. It was hanging on by a thread but not really so loose as to be moving by itself. DQ's other big tooth is still firmly in place. It is slightly wiggly but I don't think she'll be able to sing, "All I Want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth". Despite the fact that one of her teeth is missing DQ's face continues to look like an older girl.

ST has lost more teeth at school than DQ. MI is beginning to get a bit jealous. I saw the look come across her face. MI gets so frustrated because things do happen to her like they happen to her sisters. I really feel for her because she's right. She's not that much younger than her sisters. But a couple of years still makes a difference at this time in their life.

The Anti-American Woman

I am not a red blooded American woman. I realized this truth the day after Thanksgiving when I called a couple of women I know that have Pamper Chef contacts. Neither of them were at home. No they were out shopping. They were contributing to the well being of our economy.

Where was I? I was at home doing nothing. I watched some movies with my dear little girls. I let them play computer games on my laptop. I played with my children. I talked with them. I even read a book. I read books to my children, too. My Saturday was much the same. We never left the house once. PF did. Both Friday and Saturday PF got out of the house. He tried to take a child with him but none of them were having it. Sunday we went to Church. I took the girls down to the barn and we played upstairs. We threw balls around. We danced. The girls built themselves a cool house out of these foam mats. Never imagined that as a possibility. Quite frankly I am rather proud of their ingenuity.

Adjective Queen wanted a Thanksgiving story. Well our Thanksgiving was remarkably uneventful. No one got on anyones nerves. OK. DQ was totally pissed off with the Macy's parade. They kept advertising High School Musical. She just knew they were going to do a number from the movie. All they had were Corbin Bleu and Ashley Tisdale singing on floats that had nothing to do with HSM. So there's DQ first lesson as a consumer.

But anyway here's what happened: my sister hosted the dinner. I got at least 10 phone calls leading up to the day. On one phone call she confesses that she has 27 people coming for dinner. So PF and I start counting heads in the family. We only have 21 people in the extend local family. So obviously she's got some guests coming. Knowing that there is a lot on her table I get to her house early to help out. My dear b-i-l, Tex drives me crazy harassing me about knocking the table where the rolls are rising. Tex also attempts to get me pickled early but I resist. And I do not drink anything all evening so perhaps that is why the night was so uneventful.

So I guess you can sum up my Thanksgiving weekend as a boat floating calmly in the waters. I didn't even brave the crush of people out shopping for their Christmas goods. Luckily I am almost done. I got Tex and my niece's husband's name to shop for Christmas presents. Otherwise I'm good to go. Actually it was because I got Tex's name that I discovered that I am not a normal American woman. And yes folks I know that I am never normal.

It's been a while

It's been a while since I've posted anything. Nothing very extraordinary has happened of late. For those that remember DQ's puppy love from last year and would like a report-- it's over. She's found a new love. He is of Asian descent. It was rather cute because I asked her if she still liked the boy down the street. No it was "Matthew". He is Vietnamese but he can't talk Vietnamese. I thought it was rather cute that she felt compelled to report that he doesn't speak the language. DQ goes to Chinese school to learn Chinese every Saturday morning. She is doing very well. As is MI. The teacher reports that MI does very well for being an Anglo child. I laugh because I know that MI thinks she is Chinese. I'm living in dread for when she tells someone who is Chinese that she is Chinese. What are they going to think? I've tried to correct her but she will have none of it. MI believes and knows deep down inside herself that she is Chinese. Go figure.

Anyway, the other bit of news in our life is that ST is anxious about next year. Apparently 3rd graders do not have the same lunch and recess time as the 1st and 2nd graders. ST doesn't want to have DQ go on to 3rd grade because she feels abandoned. ST wants to have her sister with her during the 1st few weeks of school to play with and hang around. ST talks about this everyday know for the last couple of weeks. I am now beginning to wonder if I should call the school counselor to ask for help with this issue. I mean yesterday, ST asked DQ to flunk 2nd grade! So is it time to intervene?

Besides MI thinking she is Chinese MI is looking forward to when she is in school with her sisters. I hope that I can get into the school in time to get her enrolled in the all day kindergarten; otherwise, MI might as well get use to the idea of Catholic school for one more year. Maybe that is something that will help ST out. ST will be a 2nd grader next year and they use the 2nd graders to help the all day kindergarteners figure out how to get back to class after recess. Yep. I definitely need to talk to the school.

Jesus' kisses

On Sunday as MI dipped her hand into the holy water font she turns to me and asks whether they (the water) are Jesus's kisses.

Gee. I thought that was one of the cutest things in the world. Better than when her two sisters down my supply of holy water like it was some sort of fantastic potable. Not sure how the Church rules on drinking holy water.

That's it. I have nothing else.

And the drama continues

Last night we went to the library to hear a local children's author speak about his work. DQ asked if she could sit with her friend. I said sure. I then led my little tribe down to the first row so MI could see the screen without a big person in front of her.

Now this man is a very good storyteller beyond being a good author. He was a very engaging speaker. I really didn't want to miss a bit of it. Unfortunately right in the middle of his talk DQ comes up to me. There she was with a bloody mouth. That snaggly front tooth finally was ready to come out. I got up and took her to the bathroom where I pulled the tooth and cleaned her up.

After the talk I went up to DQ and told her how angry I was at her for loosing her tooth. I told her that we had pictures to take on Sunday. I had told her at some point to hang on and not let the tooth fall out until the pictures were taken. Poor thing. I'm either a very good actor or just a regular abusive mother because the poor thing thought I really was angry. I had to assure her that I was only teasing and joking with her.

Now let's fast forward to after we get the kids into bed. PF and I had some words with one another that might be lie the fact that we are truly happily married. I swear he is just as sensitive as I am. I was only reporting what other people thought when they find out we still have a house that we haven't lived in for 3 years. PF then acted all miffed and put-out. He did a real good martyr act. He used phrases like, "I never do anything right. I can't please anyone." Okay. So now you might understand why I got ready for bed as fast as I did. I read myself into drowsiness. I turned the lights off and went to sleep.

Unfortunately the God of sleep thought that I was sleeping too well. Why break a good run with one night of perfect sleep? I was awakened by a knock on the door. ST was out there. She had had a nightmare. I walk her back to her room and lay down with her. Now I am suddenly wide awake because I realize that I haven't put the money under the pillow. I go back to our room and ask PF if he as a dollar. Then I remember my piggy bank in the bathroom. It's where I put all the money I find in the pockets when doing the laundry. I have a perfect dollar. I fold it up and go back to the girls' room.

Now I'm wondering how I will get the dollar under the pillow without ST seeing me doing it. The only way to do it is to wait for her to go to sleep. Seems simple enough in theory. The only problem is ST has programmed herself to awake at the shifting weight of the bed. I lay there in bed worried that I will fall asleep and not do the deed. Then I worry about what I would say to explain the toothfairy failure to show up. Why I'm wondering are we doing this to ourselves. I know the answer is I want my children to have a sense of magic for as long as possible before they turn into the jaded youth of today.

Soon I think I can feel ST relaxing and breathing regularly. I slowly edge away from her. Then I get out of bed. Yep. The little stinker turns to me. She puckers up, and I lean in for a kiss. Then I turn to DQ's bed. I cover her up. Guess what? That stinker wakes and asks me to sleep with her. So I slip into bed. As I make myself comfortable I slip the dollar bill under the pillow. You know I'm wide awake now. So I realize that I can't leave the tooth under the pillow. So I think about what I could tell her about why the toothfairy didn't take it. Of course none of the explanations are going to work. So I dig around and find the nifty little 4H club tooth pillow designed to hold the tooth. I find it but the tooth won't come out peacefully. No it's giving a good fight. Suddenly I become aware that there is movement in the other bed. ST is awake. Now I have no idea whether she realized what I was doing. I hope not.

What an eventful night. This was definitely one of those stories one must preserve. To all of us toothfairies out there, "Good luck and good night."

Drama Queen

Oh my gosh folks. Drama Queen is a wreck. I mean it. This morning she spent some time dancing around the kitchen. I had watched her. But then I turned around to stuff the dishwasher. Suddenly I hear this huge loud clunck that reverberated through the whole house.

Drama Queen in all her enthusiasm for the dance must have lost her balance and knocked her head on the door jamb. I knew she had to have the biggest headache. I mean this child is lucky she did not knock herself out with that little stunt.

On my drive to work this morning. I wondered what happened to my graceful little girl. Instead of the beautiful, flowing arm movements DQ slings her arms and her legs around. Inhibition has set in on this child. It makes her stiff. How did this happen? When did she become aware of others. Why? Why is she not graceful anymore? Why do I cringe watching her dance? Now. Now, I must worry about her flinging herself into solid objects. Is she going to be the one who is going to be the walking wounded one?

To top off all this DQ is becoming the most emotional girl in the world. I may run off to a nunnery to survive her coming of age.

Physical world vs. Cyber world

I've been reading blogs by others in my profession. After this reading I have to say that the thought of dropping out of society seems more attractive than ever. I am a dinosaur. I'm not sure that there is any place for me in this changing world.

I don't want to be plugged in and tuned in. I don't want to have a network of friends that I only interact with through a computer interface.

This makes me think that those people who embrace this "cyber reality" because I just read today that they believe that the cyber world is more real than the physical world, are really being sucked into the beast. For those that don't live in the Bible belt world. The beast is satan. Folks around here believe that those that aren't saved will be marked by the sign of the beast. Years ago I had to suffer hearing about how the UPS symbols on products is the mark of the beast.

I'm a vilifying the Internet? No not really. I'm vilifying the social networking software. I do not have a My Space page; a Face page or any of the multitudes of social networking. This blog comes the closest to this function in my life. I communicate to those I love dearly but am seperated by land. I also have some friends who are in the area that read it. Actual I can only think of 2 that meet that criteria.

Here's my common thread in my blog. People are getting so tied up with these cyber worlds that they are unable to see; interact; function in the physical world. People no longer use their manners. Parents aren't teaching manners. I'm seeing an irony here that I've noted before. How are all these people going to know that the person they were just extremely rude to wasn't the very same person they were "connecting with" just a few minutes ago.

Somehow the nunnery just sounds better and better. Give me peace and quiet. Give me solitude.

Miss Independence

Have I ever mentioned that MI talks with a Jewish accent? I remember when she was going through the babbling stage. MI made a lot of German type sounds. Sounds like iech, shin were her favorites. Perhaps I am the cause of her pronounciation? I always thought it was cute to hear the iech coming from her. So I would iech right back. MI uses a lot of oy's in her speech, too. Turkey sounds like toykey. Thoysty for thirsty.

Well last night we were working thourgh the project bag the preschool sent home with her yesterday. They were shapes. Little plastic shapes that you use to create other shapes. Essentially they are math manipulatives. While we worked MI kept saying, "I need a whombus." We all thought that was pretty cute. Passionfruit asked her where she heard that. Passionfruit explained what whombus meant to DQ and ST.

After a while I get the instructions out of the bag to find out what we need to be doing with these things. That's when I realize that MI wasn't saying whombus. She was saying rhombus. Rhombus is a diamond shape. I don't know if I ever knew that. Anyway, I tell PF that MI is saying rhombus not whombus. We both laugh for a while.

Yesterday evening was a very nice evening. ST and MI were pretty wild but they weren't fighting with one another. We had a really nice time with each other. So we spent our 13th wedding anniversary with our children. It was a nice quiet evening. It was cold and wet outside but it was warm and loving inside our house.

Big Undertakings

Last night Passionfruit and I watched a very, very funny movie. Undertaking Betty is it's name. YES! Folks, I remembered the name of the movie! It got us laughing. We laughed so hard and so long. We even ended up remembering the many funny things that happened to us during our life together.

See we were getting ready for bed. We were laughing. We couldn't do some things like take our meds because of the laughter. Brushing our teeth, laughing and trying to talk about the movie got us both thinking about the time when I was brushing my teeth. Passionfruit asked me a question and I tried to answer. Well I don't know how I did it, and I've never been able to reproduce the sound but I made a noise that sounded like Chew Bokah on Star Wars. More laughter. Thus began the reminiscing.

Which of course only led to more laughter. See our first year of marriage was pretty funny. I've talked in the past about how finky Passionfruit can be about somethings. Cleaning the lint tray of the dryer is one of them. I was young and in love. I wanted to be a good wife. So I did my best at cleaning the lint tray and trap. I frequently used rubber scrappers as tongs to get clumps of lint out of the lint trap. One time I lost one down there. My hands were too wide to get down there so I tried getting another scrapper to dig it out. Well finally after loosing that one down the trap I finally managed to get one up to where someone could grab it. Unfortunately I didn't have a third hand. So I started calling for help. Passionfruit did hear me calling for help but he thought I was only using profanity. Yes, folks I swear horribly. I also have a horrible temper. So Passionfruit ignored me. I had to go find him and drag him back into the house to help me.

Here's another appliance story. This one involves the dishwasher and Passionfruit. Our dishwasher at the time was the original appliance from when the house was built back in 1975. This was 1994. Anyway Passionfruit became aware that the dishwasher had been running for hours non stop. So he takes the knob off and sees a wire wrapped around the rod for the knob. Passionfruit then picks up a pair of metal scissors and sticks it into that orifice. I grab a wooden spoon and place it next to him. Passionfruit asks, "What's that for?" I reply, "For when you electrocute yourself." Passionfruit scoffs at me. I turn away. The next thing I hear is a popping sound. I turn to see Passionfruit jumping away and giving a very good imitation of someone with voltage running through his body. I mean he had the shimmy and the shake going. Of course the puff of smoke added to my distress. I just knew my new husband had done himself in this time. I imagined that people would accuse me behind my back of killing my older husband. I was so angry with him. I was so scared.

Then Passionfruit brought up the time when I slid off the bed. I love satin. I was wearing a satin night shirt and I had a satin comforter on our bed. I was young back then and I got cold so very easily. Our bed at the time did not have a foot board. So I crawled across the bed to get another blanket that had fallen on the floor, and that's when it happened I lost my balance and went careening off the bed. All I remember is how fast the floor was coming up to meet my face. Passionfruit's perspective was far more amusing because he said that he saw me go slidding and then the next thing he knew my feet were up in the air.

These are the highlights to our first year of marriage. I know there were several others because back then we had weekly dinners at my parents house. When we would get to the table everyone wanted the newest story from our married life. I'm pretty sure that there wasn't a week we weren't able to give everyone a story. Passionfruit and I love to laugh. We laugh at each other. We laugh with each other. But laughter is so very important to us. Life is too short to be so serious.

Driving home

Last week I went to a conference. It was in Little Rock. I got to drive there. Of course driving is one of those times that I get to think. What I thought about the other day was-- how Passionfruit has held me in his arms in two different occassions. It's funny that they were both linked to my father. The first time was before we were even dating. My father was lying in a hospital bed. He was recovering from surgery. We were expecting cancer as diagnosis.

Anyway my mother sent me off to contra. Passionfruit saw me and asked me where had I been all these many monthes. I told him that my father had major surgery and a bleeding ulcer over the last 3 months. Passionfruit put his arms around me. I remember how his chest seemed to be large. I snuggled in and enjoyed the warmth and support he offered me. We started going out within a couple of monthes after that.

Then we need to fast forward by 10 years. We are in Jamaica. We are celebrating the wedding of his nephew. My father had just died 2 monthes before we went to the wedding.At the time there was a song that talked about how a father died and how he wished his parents could have had one last dance together. My parents had met at a community dance hall in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. While Passionfruit and I were dancing that song came on and I broke into tears once again. Once again Passionfruit's chest seemed so large and strong as he held me.

Passionfruit is not a large man. He is short and slender. Passionfruit is not by any means a buff kinda guy. Where he has some nice muscles are in his legs. But he doesn't work that upper body. But you know he is a strong man. My man has always fought for me. Let me correct that. Passionfruit has always fought for me when I am right. When I am running half cocked and wrong he finds a gentle way to bring me back into the reality of the situation. I thank God for this wonderful man. To have and to hold... I love those words in the marriage ceremony. By his touch my husband can give me so much-- so much strength; so much love; so much compassion; so much empathy; so much comfort. Yes, dear Lord you have truely blessed me. Thank you.

Our wiggly ways

The other night we ate dinner. Of course, we eat dinner every night. What was singular in this ordinary event is our two oldest daughters.

After the meal was mostly consumed DQ and ST sat wiggling their upper front teeth. Each of them have a loose front tooth. They are the exact opposite of the other. DQ's is so loose that the tooth is just hanging on by a thread. It's really gross to look at her. It gives her a really odd look to that tooth. I mean it's literally slanted. ST's tooth isn't quite so loose. But I suspect ST will lose her tooth first since she tends to be far more active than DQ. ST has reported that it hurts to brush her teeth so I'm guessing she doesn't do much tooth brushing.

Yesterday ST reported that she spent the recess period sitting under a tree wiggling her tooth. DQ doesn't seem quite that pre-occupied with her tooth. I really, really can't wait for her to loose that tooth. Of course once they loose one it makes the other unstable and it generally falls out pretty quickly; or so the dentist says. I wonder if this Christmas DQ and ST will sing "All I want for Christmas is my 2 front teeth."?

Fremont St. Rules

I celebrated my birthday Sunday. It was a good birthday. The kids were well behaved and excited about the party. My family came over for a lunch party. I received several cards with cats on them. One of my sisters couldn't resist. I hate cats for those that don't know. Plus we recently had a cat volunteer to be our pet. I finally took it to the pound. I co-worker made me feel better; she said, "That way the owners can be reunited with the kitten." I no longer feel guilty about doing that.

We ate so late in the afternoon that by 6:00PM I wasn't hungry and I had to force myself to fix a dinner for the kids. DQ and I played UNO together. We started out with MI and ST but they quickly lost interest. Actually MI wanted to play the game her way.

Which leads me to last night. MI came home with homework. It's a game. After dinner MI and ST were playing it. Passionfruit, DQ and I were still eating. We over heard MI saying that they were cheating at the game. She said this with pride. I told her she wasn't cheating; she was playing by Fremont St. rules (this is the street my father grew up on and their rules never remained the same and always changed to benefit the players in possession of the ball.) MI turned and told me she was too cheating. So I left it at that since MI was getting upset. I think my father would have loved it.

Mother Mary help us!

This week my co-commuter no longer commutes with me. MI now goes to what she called, “real school”. Today it’s hit me hard. I was all alone in my drive to work. I never realized how empty the mini van can feel. I was lonely.

Even though MI didn’t talk much while we drove over to the college, she was a presence there. Every once in a while she would have something to say, and the most amazing part was it was frequently something very profound. MI is an observant child so she frequently pointed out the new things in the landscape. New inflatable promotion creatures along the interstate car lots, fire trucks and police cars, were among the many things she would see and point out to me. Sometimes she had an idea that would blow you away that a small child could come up with these ideas. Like my dad being dead and being with God.

Wondering why MI is no longer driving to the college with me? Well it all started with a phone call. I called up the grandma, who’s raising her grandson, who’s MI’s bestest buddy. I asked her how kindergarten was going for Austin. Grandma said he was doing just fine but. Here’s that big word BUT. The child development lab did not prepare Austin for the rigors of kindergarten. This has been my worry now for several months that MI isn’t getting prepared for school.

Now the lab is wonderful. And I know their philosophy is in line with the National Association for the Education of Young Children. They are accredited by this organization; however, this organization doesn’t believe small children should be in desks learning yet. They don’t believe in worksheets for young children. Here’s the problem: the public schools expect children to be able to write letters and identify letters and numbers before entering kindergarten. So there is the problem. The NAEYC is not keeping up with the expectations of the schools. They are great for the toddlers and young preschoolers but once their in the 4 to 5 age range they need to be sitting at a desk for 1 hour at least; learning their letters and numbers.

MI was longing for that situation. She was ready to sit and learn. That’s what she wanted to do. Her first day of school I could barely contain her. Once we crossed that road she was running like a gazelle to the school. Her second day was evening cuter. MI didn’t want me walking her to class. She wanted to walk to her class by herself.

Where do I have this sweet little girl? Well it’s a Catholic school. She has to wear a uniform. She looks adorable by the way. So far MI seems really into the uniform thing. I drive MI to school first. Her school starts at 8:20 and gets out at 3:15. Then I drive the older girls to school. My mother is picking up MI for me. Things really have worked out well. So pray for us that this is a good move for her. I think it is.

I am a rhinoceros

My house is a major user of electricity. My husband and children leave the lights on in the house. They will leave a room and leave the lights on in the vacated room. This drives me crazy! Perhaps because I come from a home where we were severly reprimanded for the above infraction.

Thursday night I came home to find the house lit up like a Christmas tree. So I announced that I have a new campaign. Of course this led to explaining what campaign means but that is besides the point. The point is my conservationist husband refuses to conserve energy. Electricity in particular. He leaves lights on in the garage. I wake up the next morning-- wandering out to the garage and low and behold the light is still on! IT'S BEEN ON ALL NIGHT! GRRRRRRRRRRRR! This is not a one time occurance it is a habit of his.

Does anyone remember the movie "The Gods Must Be Crazy"? There is a scene in it where a rhinoceros runs into the camp and stomps the fire out. Well that is how I feel. I'm the lone rhinoceros running through the house turning off the lights. Well if you click on the link scroll down to the bottom of the entry. I have joined the ranks of legendary stuff. I will continue to wage my war against lights using up the electricity. And I will continue to think of rhinoceros everytime I turn out the light or make a child turn out the light.

The Morphing Mom

Tuesday my children's school celebrated Grandparents Day. Passionfruit calls it a contrived holiday by Hallmark; however, if you follow the link you will see that Grandparents Day got started by the very state Passionfruit lived in for several years-- West Virginia. But this is besides the point, it's what happened at the school.

Everyone must know by now that I simply can't stand gushing mothers who think their child is the most talented, wonderful thing God created. You all know of at least 2 women who fit this description. They tend to squeal a lot. They tend to be groomed to immaculate Barbie images. They probably only went to college to find a rich (or potentially rich) hubby to support their superficial hobbies (themselves!).

Well I hate to report that I morphed into one of these chicks sans the grooming. It all started when we were finally able to get into the cafeteria. ST led me into there to get herself some cookies. To get to the table you had to pass the wall with these really nice portraits displayed. ST pointed out that one of those was hers. I said, "Oh really? Which one?" She ran up to this really nice drawing with a nice color wash. "That's yours?" She pointed out where she signed her name. Another mother with her children were standing near it. She said that it was good, and she asked ST whether it was her mommy. I saw little ST's face. Now she's worried because she doesn't want to hurt my feelings. I pipe up with, "NO. It looks like the Mona Lisa, to me." ST breaks into a huge smile, and replies, "Yes, that's who it is."

Now I'm totally floored because I study all the other pictures. They look like 6 year olds drew them but ST's looks more like 12 or 13 year old drawing. I'm dazed, and amazed. I do want to point out that one of them looks like a Picasso study of the Mona Lisa which is pretty cool but still pretty immature looking.

Here, is where I must tell on myself. At this point I turn around and find the art teacher not too far away. I walk up to her and ask her, "Is it just me? or is my daughter really talented?" BING! I have now morphed into that kind of MOM. I mean what is the teacher going to say, "No, Mrs. T. your daughter sucks big time."? I can't believe I put the teacher in such an awkward position. She was nice and charming and told me "Yes, she is and I push her to do more than the other children." Maybe it's true but I feel like a heel for morphing. So, yes Adj. Queen, I'm that lone parent clapping maniacally for my special pumpkin.

My Big Accomplishment

Well, I spent my Saturday cleaning out the garage and doing laundry. My goal was to get those 2 things completed. If anyone really knows Passionfruit and I, we are pack rats. Even though we are both pack rats Passionfruit and I differ. Passionfruit has a problem with decision making. He believes that if he gets rid of something that he might need it 2 months later. Let me describe the normal things that Passionfruit finds difficult to throw away-- it's anything! A piece of string becomes invaluable because you just might need to tight something up in the next, oh I don't know, 20 years. Take last night I found some sort of plastic thing. It was quite obiviously broken. I threw it away. I did this right in front of Passionfruit. Passionfruit reaches in and takes it out. Examines it and puts it back where I found it. I picked it up and threw in the trash again. Passionfruit takes it out of the trash again and starts to lecture me because it could possibly belong to something. And then he went on and talked about how we will find whatever it is that it belongs to. I mentioned that it was BROKEN. That didn't seem to matter. So there it sits in my bathroom waiting for the future reunion, that most likely won't happen.

Back to the garage-- Saturday was the first day of Chinese school DQ and MI go to Chinese school. Passionfruit takes them, and he takes a class, too. So I was going to be alone with ST. I get to work at 8:00 AM. ST assists me from time to time but I'm pretty much going it alone. I start on the North wall first. It's the easiest wall. It had been cleaned before. Then I progressed to the East wall. Again, there is not as much there as the South bay. Much of it is the bikes and the wagon for the kids. I get these two sections done. I feel really, really good about all of this. I mean the garage looks really, really good.

Now I'm hungry. So I break for lunch and some laundry folding. I cool down. Take a bathroom break. Drink lots and lots of water, water in a glass with ice cubes. I get a call from Passionfruit asking whether or not to take the kids he has to lunch. I say, "SURE!" I'm thinking, "Great! Now I have more time to work without the meddling hubby!"

So I scurry back into the garage and start working on the most difficult part of the garage: the South bay. By the way it's a 3 car garage. As I work I discover that most of the stuff is empty boxes. I find boxes of clothes that I meant to give away to some sort of charity. I have a couple of boxes of kids shoes, too. Some of them have never been worn. Other shoes have very little wear and tear. I'm looking at all this stuff wondering what to do with it.

Then I remember that the Faculty Association is having a garage sale soon. So I'm going to donate all these boxes of stuff to that. I'm even giving my big old limo stroller away (seats 2 kids). I do have some trepidation about giving all this stuff away. It's my talisman against getting pregnant. This morning while I was packing up the baby bumper; comforter, sheets; crib skirt, and the mobile, I thought about having another baby. Well I decided that it shouldn't matter because if I do get pregnant then I deserve another baby shower. After all, I've waited 5+ years before getting pregnant again. Plus it would be my luck to have a boy this time.

While I'm working away up drives Passionfruit. I can see his face. It reminds me of the pictures of soldiers suffering from shell shock. The kids hop out and act normallly. They're pretty interested in the activity too because I've unearthed alot of their toys they haven't seen for several months to years. I'm already for the ensuing fight. I'm ready to demonstrate that I have my recycling piles all organized. Finally Passionfruit steps out of the car. He walks right past me in what can only be described as a hurried pace. What's going on? I ask DQ where's your dad going? DQ says that he is going in to watch the football game. BINGO! I've strucked gold once again. Passionfruit must watch the games for the schools he's attended. I continue to work away.

At one point Passionfruit comes out to the garage. He asks where he can help? I tell him he can go watch his football game. Passionfruit tells me that it is half-time. BUMMER! I think. Okay. So I set him to working. I'm amazed he's not pitching a fit. Okay! Is this the invasion of the body snatchers? The hours continue to wear on.

Somewhere along the way Passionfruit suggests that it is dinner time. I tell him, "NO! I've got to keep going." So I work until 8PM. It's been 12 hours. I'm filthy, grimy and sweaty. But I feel so good. I got the garage cleaned out. I realize that this is the first time over 12 years of marriage that I've cleaned out a garage. It's the first time in 3 years to clean out this particular garage. I didn't realize that this garage is so large. It's great. It's huge. It's wonderful to walk into it with bare feet. I feel so successful I'm ready to get to work on my bedroom. Really cleaning out the garage was the first step in cleaning my bedroom. Once my bedroom is done I'm planning to go to town on the study that Passionfruit occupies. Of course I know that that won't be easy, and Passionfruit will behave very territorial. I think a fight might ensue because he'll feel threatened. But that won't be for a while yet.

Later that night I asked Passionfruit how he felt about the garage. He said he was really proud of what we accomplished. He did tell me that when he drove up he could tell that I was in my "get it done mode". I don't think Passionfruit ever, has a get it done mode. He has more of a "ponder it mode". I always laugh at him when he talks about his sister having an inertia problem. To me it seems to effect him, too. I would never say this to him but I think it's pretty true. I don't know about his sister. Actually I think she's more like me. She'd rather read a good book than do house work. No shame there really. We just aren't the neat freak type.

Terrifying Tuesday

My Tuesday went well. Things were rocking along. My mom and I had come up with a plan for the new school year. I mean... who was going to take whom where. With 3 kids I can't be everywhere at one time and the girls activities have a couple that are at the same time in 2 different places.

I went and picked-up MI from preschool. When I get back in the car my cell is ringing. I answer... my first reaction was not to since it was an 800 number. I remember muttering in my brain about damn telemarketers. It was not a telemarketer. It was a person from our home security system. We still have 2 houses. The operator told me that there was a medical emergency out at the lake house. I then immediately hung up. I cold knot of dread developing in my chest. I made a point not to freak out. I call Passionfruit's cell phone. No answer. I call his work phone. No answer. Okay. I lost it for about half a second. I start praying frantically. MI's in the back saying, "Daddy's dead. Daddy's dead." It was kind of weird for the child was so matter fact about that. I calm down immediately. I explain to the girls that we have no information and that we can't jump to conclusions. I told them that it could have been anyone out there. I mean the house is up for sale people go in out showing the house all the time. It could even be a friend that we hire as a handy-man. (He sometimes drinks; and he has fallen from the roof before.)

So I'm racking my brains trying to think how I can find out what's going on out at the lake. I don't want to take the kids out there if something really ugly is going down. My first fear was Passionfruit was having a heartattack. Then I remembered that real estate agents are often victims of violent crimes. So I didn't want to take the kids out to where there might be blood and gore. I continue with the plan. Tuesdays is gymnastics for ST and MI. DQ goes to tap at the same time. My mom had DQ. I call mom to let her know that I want to switch out cars with her, and that she needs to pick-up all the kids. Then I call my sister, I Don't Get Mad; I Get Even, if anyone can found out something it's her. I asked her to find a number for someone/anyone in Passionfruit's office. When I Don't Get Mad calls back she tells me that the call was in reference to a one Jim Jones. BINGO! It's our friend! It's not my husband! IDGM tells me that she called the police and they told her it was Jim Jones and that he was taken to the local hospital. She then had called the local hospital only to find out that Jim Jones was released. Here's the confusing fact both the hospital and police said that it had been hours ago.

Next phone call I make is to Jim. He answers his cell. "Hey dude! What's up?" He replies that it's been a shitty day. I told him to tell me about it. He asks where do you want me start? I said, "How about the release from the hospital."

"Hospital?"

"Yeah, the hospital."

"I haven't been to any hospital today", says Friend Jim.

"You haven't?"

"No."

"Okay, tell me about your day from where the firemen showed up."

"Hey! That was really cool! They showed up in 5 minutes. You know I'm pretty sure I punched in the code correctly. Next thing I know the alarm's going off. I talked to the monitoring center. Told 'em who I was and what I was doing out here but they still sents the firemen. And you know what they were all pretty fat (firemen)."

"Really. Normally that towns firemen are pretty buff and cute, too boot."

"You should let potential buyers know how quick the response for the firemen was. It would be a great selling point."

By the end of that conversation I realize that my mom is probably freaking out. I didn't tell her any of my fears but I still hadn't shown up to switch out cars. I go into the gymnastics joint. I find a mother with a daughter about the age of my MI. I ask her if she's going to the same class. They are. I tell her that I'm really not a bad mommy and I don't normally dump my kids with total strangers, but would you mind keeping an eye on my child while I drive off to tell my mom that my husband isn't mortally wound/sick? She said sure. I drive off and find my mom. I tell her everything that happened.

I just wanted to share this rather heart stopping; heart palpitating experience.

Quickie

For those of you who are more interested in my girls activities than my rants I'll provide you with a few quick happenings. The other day when we were heading out to the neighborhood pool I discovered how the girls have been opening up the garage door. I thought that they were pulling something up and climbing to get to the button; however, this is not the case-- instead they pick up the mop standing next to the button and press the end to the button. My! Don't I have some clever girls!

Saturday I took the girls to a local department store. We were looking for bathing suits. I know it is not the season; however, I was hoping to find a good sale. Indeed I did, unfortunately, the rack was pretty much picked clean. DQ was hoping I would break down and buy her a bicini. I do not believe little girls should were such things. I did consider a tankini at one point but realized that it would be very easy to end up slipping down that slippery slope towards caving into everything.

Anyway, I lost ST and MI. I ran through the store with DQ at my side. I really was getting anxious. I made two laps around the area I thought they would be. Finally after starting the third lap ST and MI came running up to me. They each had a bathing suit on and were carrying their clothes. When I got them back to the dressing room we discovered that MI had lost her shirt. I again made a couple of laps around the area where we had been shopping looking for the lost shirt. In the past I've learned that these things are gone. So I didn't make a great attempt at searching. I found a sale rack and found her a top for $3. It's cute and she liked.

After we got through the cashier line we went to the car and dropped the stuff off. We then went over to the "river" walk. We saw 2 school of fish and several turtles. One of those turtles were massive. His head was a good 12in. long. I never did see the rest of him. But I don't think I'll go swimming in that creek bed anytime soon.

DQ is giving me a complex. I can't look at her without her saying, "What!??" She claims that I look at her and make faces. She says she thinks she's in trouble. Finally tonight I asked her was there ever a time when she didn't know that she was in trouble with me. I'm wondering where she picked up this little behavior. Which older girl at school does this.

I've been volunteering at their school every Thursday. This has caused some strife with the PTA chicks. The treasurer says that I need to join the PTA because volunteering at the school is a PTA activity. I don't see it that way. I don't care to join their little sorority. Been there done that and didn't like their attitude. So I continue to boycott the PTA and volunteer to boot. DQ and ST love it because they have to come to the media center to get me. I am usual so engrossed in my projects at the media center that I don't pay any attention to the time and must be reminded that the end of school has happened. DQ will rush in asking if she can help. In the past I've allowed her to check-in books but the past Thursday the media specialist was there so I asked if it were okay to allow DQ to do this little job. Yep, it sure was. ST brought in her new friends to show off. It's fun to see this. I never had friends. I had Sophia in 1st and 2nd grade but we frequently didn't get along with one another. I don't remember having another friend until high school. I'm still friends with her but we had a falling out over a child (16 year old boy with a mouth like a sewer). She kept expecting me to over look his behavior and I kept expecting her to understand I didn't want my children exposed to this young man. I think we are slowing on the mend now that she found a real home for this boy and he is no longer living with her.

My mom is doing well. She forced me to have a Partlite party for her. We had fun. She pretty much made the show because my heart wasn't in it. I told her to have the party herself and that she could use my house. But for some reason she won't do that. So you can see that mom is as feisty as ever.

Our house out by the lake continues to be for sale. Lots of folks have looked at it. No one has made an offer. So I guess nothing will happen for a year or two. By February we will own the stupid thing. So I suppose it will all be profit if it does take a year to sale. I don't know why Passionfruit won't use a regular real estate agent. But he won't. At this rate I really think I ought to cash in my moneymarket and finish the mortgage off. I've also tried talking him into doing one of those reality shows where they help you sell your home. He's just not that kind of guy.

Dinosaur Tracks

We went on a very quick family vacation this weekend. We drove to an area of our state that is suppose to have dinosaur tracks. We got there and asked a couple of people for directions. The second person really made me feel very welcome. Phrases like the ranchers want to blast the prints to get rid of the tourists; ranchers don't like the tourists coming. Made me wonder if we were going to end up in a situation out of "Deliverance".

Once we made it to the creek bed we wandered around not finding any tracks. We gave the girls lessons in geology and wilderness safety. They really enjoyed tramping through the dried up creek bed. I was disappointed that the prints weren't in view. So we packed the kids up and went on to the next state where they have dinosaur prints and use them as a tourist draw.

While we drove we got the girls singing songs. After one song DQ asked her father, "Is there another virgin of that song?" Well I wasn't very good at keeping the giggles at bay. I laughed for several miles.

Yesterday we ended our trip with a drive through Palo Duro canyon. It was beautiful. Passionfruit and I tried to go there once before ten years ago but there was such a sand storm going on that we aborted that trip and went on to New Mexico.

It was a great time. I really enjoyed our little excursion.

Work on a Saturday at the college

I'm sitting at the reference desk today. It's our special orientation day for new students. Half the librarians are over in the main building grabbing students to issue them their print cards. Students and parents are wandering all over the campus trying to get their bearings.

What I find so interesting is the wide range of individuals walking past my desk. I only started this blog after watching a young woman walk past who so obviously was working hard to walk like a tough nut. To smile for her would have meant to break her face.

Next, it's really interesting the diverse parents who play a role in this day. There are the mothers who lead their young adult around like a mother duck with her ducklings. Then there are the mothers who attempt to not be involved. They come to the library and sit reading a book waiting for their child to return from the various activities. Then there are the mother daughter teams. You can tell they have a good relationship. The child and parent are interested in the things being offered but the mom is pretty cool about not smothering the child. Of course not to be forgotten is the lone mother coming because she can't get her child to come.

I've just come back from the main building. It's very quiet. Nothing like last year. Maybe the weather is keeping people away. I don't know. While I was over there I took the role of the carnie hawker. You know, "GETTCHAYAR HOTDOG!" Only my call was, "GETTCHAYAR PRINT CARD!" Wonder how many cards they'll give out now that I'm gone. I'll wonder over later to see what's going on.

Back to school and all its frustrations

The first day of school was yesterday. DQ started 2nd grade and ST started 1st grade. The girls were terribly excited to be returning to school. I think ST will have a better year. The school is now a familiar place. She has friends there from last year. DQ is thrilled to be in a class room that was a originally the teachers' lounge. I as the mother am not thrilled because the room was not design as a class room.

When we went to meet the teacher night last Friday, the room that DQ is in was very difficult to get into. A long narrow passage leads into the room. Parents and kids were backed up in this confined space. Now as I write this I worry about a fire. Will that class be able to remain calm enough to traverse this space and get out? Okay, I better stop worrying about that.

This morning I was treated to a wonderful struggle of wills with MI. We had breakfast at the school this morning. MI did not want to leave. She wanted to stay. I tried to make it sound good for her to go to preschool but she didn't think it was grand at all to be the oldest in preschool. She didn't like the idea of having to be the role model for the younger kids. She wanted to be in Kindergarten. From now on I'm dropping my little munchkins off at the door.

To top it all off when I finally got MI into the car and buckled up we got behind an individual who felt she was above the traffic sign informing her that only a right turn during this morning rush is allowed. Oh how I wish the cops would sit there and hand out tickets. But we live in a suburb and the school is located in the city. The school belongs to the county but resides in the city so I fear the city doesn't feel all that compelled to patrol the area. In fact one never sees the city police in the area. Those houses in the area are frequently burgalerized. I hear the mothers talking about how they were robbed last night. Another says, "Yes, we were robbed last night, too." If it were me living in that area I would certainly be complaining. I mean the way they talk about it is so casual, so matter of factly. They are resigned to being victims.

My friend QueenBee has a blog entry about the commonness of our culture. Isn't the above another example of people accepting bad behavior? What a soapbox I've become. Someday I'll have something funny to write but not today. Today I'm just too frustrated.

Around this time last year

Last year we were suffering a major draught that had started the winter before and lasted throughout much of the year. In fact the land was going up in smoke (literally) Wild fires came close to our house (about a mile) I remember that their was one day that I had to take a very winding path to get home because of all the road closures. I remember the smell of smoke hung in the air for days afterwards. I remember one night when I went out into our garage that we had just cleaned out some only to be alarmed by the smell of smoke. I went outside and started searching for the source. About a mile away there was the flames reaching for the stars. I frantically knocked at a neighbors door to ask them to call the fire department. The husband came out to look and the wife went in to make the call. Shortly after that we heard the sirens racing to the scene.

Now we have state parks that are closed due to all the rain we've received. Firefighters have had to perform hair-raising rescues. People have been lost to floods. I remember one of my entries last year described the grass on the campus. This year everything is green. Green grass, green trees, flowers. It's amazing. It reminds me of the Northeast U.S.

Once on one of our year migrations to visit the grandparents in Pennsylvania we went through Kentucky. Lord! Everything was an unrelenting green. Everywhere you looked it was green. I remember telling my folks how glad I would be to return home so I could see some nice yellow/brown grass.

Please don't get me wrong, I love this wet rainy weather. The temperatures have been bearable. With age I've gotten to be bothered by the heat. Never thought that would happen. It's great that I haven't needed to get out the hoses to water the grass. But I think this beautiful weather is at an end. I think the weather is getting ready to turn up the heat (literally) I know I better pull out the hoses and get them situated because my willows seem to be drooping and turning yellow. Tomorrow.

Summer dud

There is something wrong in my house. The evenings are something I've come to dread. I have to make dinner. I have to wait on 3/5 of my family to return home before I can serve the dinner. Dinner is getting later and later. The kids fight going to bed. Before they are in bed I'm ready for bed.

But lately I've been doing house work after the little monsters go to their bedroom. Notice I didn't say go to sleep. No in fact noise continues to emanate from their room. Parents are required to go in and threaten drastic measures before the noise turns into whispers. Further warnings and yes, groundings are issued.

This hasn't been a good summer for the kids. They wanted to do so much. We just aren't able to financially afford to do the things they want to do. The girls want me to pick them up from their camp early so we can go swimming or go to a park but we simply can't afford for me to drive down there and get them. MI is having a great time with me. She gets me all to herself. ST is really showing signs of stress and anxiety. DQ actually is having a great time at camp. She just doesn't want the day to end.

I've already told Passionfruit that we will not do that summer camp in the neighboring suburb. I'm going to find an alternative. Passionfruit replied that next year ST will be able to go on all the field trips. I just want to be able to pick up the girls. I don't want to wait on Passionfruit to decide to go home.

I wish I had something funny or profound to say. Instead I'm complaining. Well, I tell you that one good thing happened this summer. DQ initiated a disscussion about her adoption and birth family. This has me feeling so good because I think that she is okay. She is going to be okay. Being adopted for her is not a tragic, horrible thing. In fact when DQ gets to be older and more mature I think she will say that being adopted is an adjective. It's a word that describes her not defines her.

Rambling rampages

I don't like it when holidays fall in the middle of the week. It makes the work week awful. I didn't really want to work yesterday but I finished my regular authority work just in time to get the next report. They will run today. What fun!



Now when I go to work tomorrow I'll have a lot more work to do. Work that can only be described to the civilian as boring and tedious. Sometimes I wonder whether anyone appreciates what I do. What I read in the professional journals, and what I see happening at the Library of Congress I can only hear the death toll for us catalogers. No one seems to understand what we do and why we do it. Everyone wants Google and Google-like environments without realizing the limitations to Google. Do people even realize that they are missing information? Yes. I must admit I Google, too. But that is not my end all of any research I do.



Newsweek's "My turn" the essayist wrote about taking the traditional road trip with her family. Everyone had their personal electronic equipment. While they sped down the highway everyone tuned each other out. I can only say that I laugh when I think of Timothy Leary's phrase, "Turn on, tune in, drop out". I doubt that Leary had any idea that we were going to take it to the limits that abound today. Did he ever envision people being hooked up to phones and ipods? Walking down the street talking to some unseen person, not hearing anyone near them greet them. We all are turned on and tuned in with the results of dropping out.



When I see people walking around with their blue tooth in their ears it makes me think of Star Trek the Next Generation. You know the episode where they encounter the Borg. "Resistance is futile people". We are all soon going to be a part of some massive piece of machinery. And those of us that resist shall be pursued to the ends of the earth. Tortured into assimilating into the various parts and pieces that make the whole. [Funny how that seems to parallel some Christian ideology... "I'm the vine you are the branches... Hmmm...]

Well I see that I am only rambling and continuing my anti-technology thread that seems to weave itself through this blog from time to time. Which in itself is ironic considering it is technology. I'm not against technology perse but the way in which we use it as a society. Enough.

Fickle sisters? Or are they thick as thieves?

One wonders the dynamics of children. One day recently in our "happy home" it wasn't so happy. I don't remember exactly what happened to cause DQ to slap Miss Independence but it happened. I told DQ to go to her room and only come out when she was able to act in a more appropriate manner.

This caused DQ to run from the room screaming that she hated me. ST went to console her older sister. A few minutes latter ST comes out to tell us that DQ is packing up and running away from home. Next I see MI slipping away from the room in a manner that can only be called furtive. More minutes pass and out comes ST. Apparently MI has decided to join DQ in running away. This doesn't seem to bother DQ at all.

Now I'm totally stumped because the whole reason DQ is running away is unfair treatment in regards to MI, ie., MI gets better treatment than DQ. Apparently the plans are to run to DQ's friend's house to live happily ever after. If they were unavailable perhaps the neighbors would take them.

Wondering how we handled this situation? Well we pretty much let them pack their bags, boxes and various other modes of transporting stuff. This went on for about an hour. At 9:00 P.M. we told them that it was too late to runaway, and they needed to go to bed. As DQ calmed down she decided not to runaway after all. MI still wanted to go. In fact, MI continued to runaway all week. (Never actually walking out the door.) She had a black backpack packed. MI kept taking it to preschool all week. It snowballed to taking her slumber bag to preschool. Yesterday when I picked her up and put her in the minivan she said, "Well I'm ready to runaway." At four I suppose she hasn't got the full mechanics of running away down.

What amused me more was ST. She seemed rather eager to get rid of both her sisters. This is the first time that she's displayed any feelings about not wanting siblings. DQ frequently wishes out loud that she were an only child. MI tells me she doesn't like her sisters, because they are mean to her. (Which in my opinion is true.) So I was amazed when we asked whether ST was going to runaway, and she said she was staying and helping her sisters to pack.

In conclusion the two that were at logger heads with one another became partners in a running away scheme. ST had no desire to runaway and appeared rather eager to get rid of her siblings. As I've reported before that alliances are ever shifting in the world of childhood, especially among siblings.

Tender mercies

Well I find myself at work today. I did it on purpose. I didn't have to work. Someone else had already volunteered. But I wanted Passionfruit to spend time with our children. So to work I went.

Yesterday Passionfruit came home with the beginnings of the dreaded summer cold. I started to feel bad about this passive aggressive manuever. My poor sweet wasn't feeling well, and I was abandoning him to the tender mercies of our children.

I was out of work for 2 days. I didn't realize at the time that another co-worker would be out, too. So while I was here working I found her work to and did it. That way Monday will not be so horrible on her, and it gave me some more work to do.

I haven't received any phone calls from Passionfruit, so I'm assuming that all is well. I guess I'll find out how it went when I get back home. I have to confess that I don't believe that my drive home will be straight there. NO. I think a trip to Braum's is calling me. I haven't had any decadent sunades in a while.

While we're on the subject...

When I was pregnant with my children I had lots of strange dreams. After the two pregnancies I was amazed that the two pregnancies were similiar in that I had dreams. Each pregnancy I dreamt of celebrities. I am not a celebrity hound. I don't read the gossip rags. I may occassionally glance through People but do not seek it out. Another similiarity was the subject matter of the dreams remained constant for the particular pregnancy and each of the subject matter was disturbing for markedly different reasons.

For the first pregnancy I will not describe those dreams in detail; nor, even hint to what they were about. What I'll tell you is Goldie Hawn, Sally Fields and several other female actresses were in those dreams.

While I carried MI the actors ranged from Don Knotts to Tom Cruise (Which some of you may remember that I disliked Tom Cruise long before it came into vogue.) These were dreams of action, adventure, murder and doomsday. I was hounded with dreams about serial murderers, mass murderers and the end of the Earth as we know it. It use to scare me. I thought perhaps I was being possessed by the devil or something.

Where is all of this leading to? My Mom picked up my girls from their respective institutions. When she got to MI's she was handed a report. It wasn't good. In fact it was down right scarry! My little darling had her hands around another child's throat! She was doing her best at strangling the little guy. His offense? He told her he wasn't her friend.

Hmmm! Now that was a tactic I never thought of as a child longing for friendship and companionship. They won't be my friends I'll just kill 'em!

What's even funnier is we do not use physical punishment. Okay. We give 'em a slap on the hinney when they are behaving dangerously. Things like... playing with matches, running into the street, strangling other children... OOPS I didn't do that. No. I talked to her about how she could have really hurt the other child. I told her how disappointed I was with her behavior.

Reflecting on things that have happened over the past year in preschool I realize that MI is far more violent than my other children have ever been. This past year she told other children in her class that I would come and shoot them with my gun. (I don't own a gun!) MI resorts to her fists and feet first. What I'm wondering is... were the dreams an indication of what is to be? Do I have some sort of budding criminal on my hands? Pray not. I wonder whether the preschool teachers think she comes from an abusive family.

My little darling is the cutest thing in the world. She is sweet and funny but I don't think you want to make her mad. I keep telling myself that her spunk will hold her in good stead when she's an adult. I've told MI not to turn bitter. I've told her to stay sweet. This was one of those days where I wonder if I will ever get this parenting thing down.

A blessed event

This past weekend was a really busy weekend. Sunday my niece gave birth to a little boy. I'm still trying to think of a name for the little guy. I went to see him on Monday. I took my mother after her doctor's appointment.

Those two people had such a difficult time. My niece went into preclampsia. So the doc induced labor. Zach was turned in a bad position. A couple of times his heart rate went down. My poor niece labored for 12 hours. I know it could have been longer but still 12 hours is a long labor. Zach, even though 3 weeks early, was a good size. He weighed 5 lbs. 14 oz. and was 20 inches long. He is beautiful.

When we saw him at the hospital he was all wrapped up good and tight. He had a little hat on and the blankets went up over the top of his head. Zach was having a hard time keeping his body temperature. He slept through our whole visit, even though I tried very hard to wake the little guy up.

In conclusion, all I know is this little guy took my heart. He has the sweetest little nose. It is so perfect. My heart aches that my niece suffered so while delivering him but she is such a little trooper. She never complained once and kept assuring my mom that she was doing fine. I would include a link to his picture but apparently they chose not to allow his picture to be posted on the hospital's website. Bummer! Because I sure would like to show off this little tike.

Swing, balance and CRASH@!

This past weekend was a blast for Passionfruit and I. We managed to get people to keep our children overnight; although they were our responsibility during the day.


Our weekend began on Friday night with a great contra dance. So many friends that we haven't seen in years were there. It was wonderful to see them and catch up on stuff. The ballroom was decorated in pink flamingos, palm trees and christmas tree lights lined the windows of the hall.


At one point I danced a dance as a woman. It was a terribly difficult dance that even very experienced dancers were having troubles. My partner and I met up with a couple of women dancing together. One was a rather new dancer and the other was a rather poor man or perhaps I should say lead. I made a point to ask the new dancer to be my partner in the next dance. I assured her that I am a very good man. She seemed doubtful. I turned to a long time friend (male) and asked him to assure her that I was indeed a fine man. Well she did find out how good I was including being able to steal a kiss from my Passionfruit when the men met in the middle for an alemand right.


Later near the end of the dance I was dancing with an old flame when CRASH, BUM, BANG! Screechs of terror, gasps of horror! The flamingo on the mantle came crashing down along with the mirror. The fiddler magically escaped injury when by all rights she should have been cut up horribly. There was glass under her chair; in her case for her fiddle and under the case. The caller was totally freaked and that was the end of the dance. I have never been to a dance where the dance ended so abruptly.

We ended up going to the after party. Passionfruit talked me into it. A dear friend who's had to deal with a ugly divorce threw the party. It was also the hostess' son's birthday. I had to go.

Saturday night my sister came and picked up the girls. We had a few hours before the dance. We chose to have dinner alone together instead of joining the large group. I told Passionfruit that we so rarely get time without the kids that it is really important to me to have him alone for a while. We went to a local Mexican restaurant and had a lovely meal.

Then on to the dance. Nothing terribly exciting happened like the night before. But it was really great to see people. One of my many old dance partners were there. I use to be a wild twirling woman but do to certain health problems I no longer can twirl 3 or 4 times. It was hard having to control those men. Jimmy used to love to see how many twirls I could get in before having to get back to the patterns of the dance. I remember one time I did 5. I so amazed him. Jimmy was my main partner that I had to control. I never did get a chance to tell him that my days of whirling like dirvish are gone.

The weekend ended with an after party at a friend's house. I had volunteered us to help with clean up. I got so tired I fell asleep on the couch in the sun room. Passionfruit woke me up at 2:30 AM to tell me it was time to go home. He had helped to clean up all by himself. I'm so proud of him.

Things I regret

A couple of weekends ago I was driving DQ around. We listened to a local Country station. A guy came on, and his whole song was about regrets. He didn't use that word but that's what he meant. So I took that as a teaching moment. I explained to DQ that that guy was experiencing regret and what an aweful thing that is.

Well DQ asked me if there was anything I regret. I had to think very hard. Overall I'm pretty happy with my life and the way I've lived it. I haven't killed anyone. I haven't done drugs. Oh I've had my fun but it was all good, clean fun. So this got me to thinking.

When I was a Senior Girl Scout I had my Gold Award earned in that I had all the badges and other peliminary stuff done. The only things I lacked were documenting my work and doing the project. The council even offered me extra time. I turned it down because I didn't think that that was fair to the other girls who did all their work in the time allotted for the award. I remember how my mother nagged me. She kept saying over and over-- "You're going to regret this some day."

Now I'm 38 years old. I have a satisfying career. I'm a mother and a wife. My husband love me. My children love me. And never once in the last twenty years have I regretted not getting the Gold Award.

No. What I regret is that I didn't have the guts to audtion for the Oklahoma Arts Institute, Quartz Mountain the first year I was eligible. I regret this so much. So much so, that I think I might turn into that stage mother that some have accused me of being and nag, and push my daughters to try out as soon as they are eligble. I envision locking them in their rooms the night before the audition and waking them in the morning. Filling their stomachs with good protein packed food. Whisking them out the door and dragging them into the studio to audition for this prestigious summer camp.

So there is my secret-- I regret that I didn't audition until the very last year I was eligible. It isn't all that shocking of a regret. I don't need to bow my head in shame. Nor do I need to worry about my enemies finding this out and using it against me. Oh! Are you wondering how the audtion went? Guess!... I didn't get chosen for the OAI. I made a horrible mess of the audition.

I did it!

After twenty some years of not shaving my legs I went and shaved my legs today. It started in the morning. The razor I had was rather dull, and I didn't have any replacement blades so I went out and bought more.

So this evening I finished the job. I now have legs that are a brilliant white color. My hair provided a certain amount of color that I don't have in my skin. Perhaps someone might expect me to feel free, smooth and fresh. Well, I'll tell you how I feel. I miss the feel of the air ruffling my hair legs. I don't especially like the glowing white of my legs but I'm not about to start tanning. I still have my principles.

I have to tell you Passionfruit's response is rather funny. He is mourning! He accused me of being vain. I had to explain to him that I did not do this for myself or him but for DQ. I also have a hypothesis that the other mothers will treat me or at least look at me differently. Passionfruit can't believe it but I reminded him that women see all and judge all. Passionfruit has never met my legs without hair. I'm afraid that he won't do very well with this new condition that he finds my legs.

What might you wonder was the catalyst to such an action? This morning DQ was totally rude to me because I won't let her have what she wanted since she hadn't finished what was on her plate to begin with. I remember getting up; going to my room and getting in the shower. While in there I took up the razor I keep in there and started shaving my legs.

I wonder how long I will keep this up. I can't say that I'm particularly happy with the results. What's really funny is-- I didn't cut myself once! I don't remember ever being so successful in my earlier life. I've made sure to moisturize my legs. I even gave myself a pedicure this evening. I would rather have read a book. Oh well, I just hope DQ will one day realize how much I love her. I don't want to embarass her anymore than I already do by being her mother.

Lord of the flies

What does one get when a group of four boys move as a pack of wild dogs? Well this afternoon it was an attempt at peeping at my daughter while she used the park's toilet facility. What happens when you add a fierce mother into the equation?

I'll tell you-- A woman willing to take on a gang of boys. I was as belligerent as they were. I dealt out verbal blow by blow. I stood, arms akimbo, legs spread speaking loudly. They did their very best to intimidate me. They called in re-enforcements. They threw rocks and sticks. I in the mean time told them to bring it on. I told them I wasn't afraid of them. I told them I was willing to "rumble" with them. Yes, I used the word rumble! I'm sure they have no idea what it means and it is possible that their parents won't know what it means either.

Crazy, huh? Well let me "flesh" the story out some more for you. While I had DQ and MI in the toilet shack we heard all this banging. I mean lots of banging. When we got out of there I don't know why I looked back but I did. There on the roof of the building was a boy about 10 to 12 years old. I whipped out my cell phone and dialed 911. I don't really know why I did it other than I could tell that this boy would not respond well to some good natured mothering. He jumps down from the building and yells at me. "I can't believe you called 911! I can't believe you called the cops! I wasn't doing anything!" Then he and his pack of friends continued to heckle me. Something inside of me slipped. Maybe it was reality? Maybe it was sanity? Anyway, all I know is I found myself telling these boys that I wasn't afraid of them and that they were more than welcome to take me on because I had taken on bigger and better than them in the past. I never yelled. Although they might not know that I can get much much louder than I was. They continued to try and intimidate me. They weren't going to stand down and neither was I.

In the back of my mind I knew what I was doing was risky. I knew that they could rush me and start beating me up but you know I was so ready to take down as many as I could before they took me down. When some of the boys started throwing rocks and sticks and I called them on this use of force another brighter boy did some reprimanding of his peers. I don't know, maybe my suggestion that if they actually were to hit me or one of my children with a rock I would file actual charges against them, and that a stay in Juvenile Detention isn't all that much fun helped curbed the actual aimming at my physical body.

How did all of this end? Well when the motorcycle cop showed up I waved him down and told him about the boy on the roof of the bathroom and how I thought he was trying to peer into the girls bathroom. What amazed me was how the child that had been on the roof took up an attitude with the police officer. This officer wasn't at all happy with the situation or the boy. Then all the other children were called up to face the officer of the law. And wonders of wonders these kids tried pulling wool over the officers eyes. Phrases like: "I don't know where I live." were thrown about. Amazing. I would never have spoken to police officer like that. In fact I never had to speek to a police officer when I was a child.

The aftermath for me was a jumble of feelings. I felt empowered. I felt vindicated. I felt stupid. I felt scared. I worried about what kind of message I sent my children. At first I worried that it was all wrong but after writing this out I realize that it is a good message. I am always telling the girls that it is okay to make a scene. That in fact, I expect them to make a scene and not to worry about calling attention to themselves should someone attempt to hurt or touch them improperly. I realize now that I did just that. I made a scene. I didn't actually (at the time) worry about calling attention to myself. That came later, after I had cooled down. Instead I lived the lesson, and I am proud of myself. You may differ with me on that but that's okay. I just know that I was dealing with this situation on a gut level. MY instinct told me there was something wrong with the situation. And I was right.

PS
After driving by the park today (5/23/07) Not only are there grill windows at the top on the sides of the building but the gables have windows that resemble transom windows. It would have been very easy for a boy to lean over the gable and look into the bathroom through that window.

Green door

This week I've been making an effort to go out walking. Every night we've been out walking. As I head back to my house and see my front door and think about the connection between a door and my father. It is painted a green color which isn't quite hunter green and not quite emerald either.

While we were building the house I originally wanted to have the door green but later down the line I wanted the door to be a burgundy red. Well that never got communicated to the painter. I remember the day that I came to see the house and the door was green-- I was disappointed. Passionfruit wanted to make them change it but I told him no. It wasn't that I disliked the color. So I told Passionfruit to leave it.

A few weeks after we moved in the the house my father died. I got the call and hurried to my parents house. We all got to say good-bye to my dad. We waited for the funeral home to come and get my father. Two men came and went back into my father's room with a gurney. I remember we were all standing around the end of the hall as they rolled my father's body pass. They had wrapped his body in a blanket. That blanket was green. It wasn't quite hunter or emerald green. I remember telling my sister-in-law that the blanket was the color of my front door.

So now, I think of my dad when I walk up to my house. It's a nice, comforting thought. And I don't think I will ever have a red door. Green suits me just fine.

Reflections of a year

It's the end of the school year. I'm a proud mother. My eldest daughter is a math whiz. DQ also reads at a 4th grade level. My middle daughter is reading above her grade level. (Last year DQ resisted reading so much that she wasn't at this level of reading last year.) What's even better is Storyteller can do math pretty well, too.

When I look at these two young girls they are so confident and happy. They have friends at school. They lead such a different life than what I knew as a child. I was shy. I wasn't liked by the other children. I was the brunt of all jokes. And my academic life wasn't at all good. I couldn't read until I was in the 3rd grade. I was in special ed. classes by the time I was in 2nd grade. I was taunted by my class mates as being the dummy of the school.

I remember how I hated Mr. East for the name he called his classroom-- The Brain Train. I liked him I really did. But I seethed under my exterior shell for the name because the other "normal" kids teased us: "That's where you go to get your brain taken out and trained to sit up and beg!" GRRRRRRR!

Now I look at my children and marvel that their existence doesn't reflect mine at all. They are happy, well adjusted individuals. They have a great confidence I never knew.

The end is in sight for this year. My children have excelled in school. Summer is fast approaching. For the kids it will be a long and wonderful experience full of activities at the various camps they're going to over the summer. For me it will be just a drop in the bucket. Summer will speed past. And tomorrow I will be writing about the up coming year where my two oldest daughters will continue their education.

All for a good cause

I allowed DQ to participate in the St. Jude's Mathathon. We got the disc on a Monday but we didn't have anytime work on it that day. So I told DQ that she could work on it in the morning if she woke up early enough.

Tuesday morning at 5:30AM DQ calls for me. I wander bleary eye down the hall to her room to find out what the problem is. When I get there she wants to work on the CD-ROM for the Mathathon. Frankly I was disturbed for being aroused from my sleep so very early. I mean I get my best sleep done in the hours between 4 and 7 AM. So I told her to lay down and go back to sleep.

Now 6:30 AM rolls around and another call from DQ issues in the monitor of our bedroom. Realizing that I simply was not going to get anymore sleep I get up and set up my laptop. I put it in the front room. DQ comes and starts working.

Out of the early morning fog comes Passionfruit. He is an angry bear. The math game is too loud and is disturbing his sleep! Grrrrrrrrr! I think what in the world do think is happening to me. So I quietly move DQ and the computer to her father's study. DQ spends about 1 1/2 hours working on the math problems. At one point she gets so angry with me because she can't do something. It's really quite funny. She's so tired she can't work the problems.

In conclusion, DQ, within 2 days, finishes all the questions for her grade level. I up the ante by asking her to work the 2nd grade level questions. She's about 1/2 way through with them. DQ also raised $100 for the St. Jude fund. I really am quite proud of my little math wizard.

The final chapter in San Francisco

After we got back to the hotel from our outing on the wharf we met up with Passionfruit and hurried to the BART station. We were going to Daly City for our dinner at the best Chinese restaurant in the San Francisco area. My cousin took us to her Mom's house and then we hurried off to the restaurant. This was going to be a late dinner.

We walked into this restaurant and the first thing you see are all the seafood swimming around in large tanks. Some of the fish don't look to lively. Perhaps they knew their days were numbered. There were other sea creatures that are not symetrical and don't have faces.

When we got seated I could see the kitchen from where I was sitting. They had three meat hooks hanging from the ceiling. Two had cooked chickens hanging off them and the other had the back end of a piglet. I tried very hard not to look at those carcasses. At one point I turned around to look behind me and the folks at the table behind me had a squid staring at me as it waited it's turned to be cooked in the pot on the table.

My mother's cousin and I were sitting next to each other trying to choose things that the kids might eat. I knew that Storyteller wasn't going to eat and since MI was not feeling good I figured she wasn't going to eat much, either. So I ordered a couple of noodle dishes to make DQ happy.

As I mentioned before this was a late dinner. The restaurant closes at 9:30 or 10:00PM. My mother's cousin got so tickled because it became obivious that they wanted us to leave. Waiters started moving tables. Walls that were moveable were moved. I got a cold blast of air on my back. All the while Passionfruit kept eating. The rest of us were finished but he kept on eating, and my mother's cousin kept giggling. She thought it was so funny that Passionfruit seemed totally oblivious to the closing activities around him.

We were all totally exhausted by the time we got back to the BART station. But despite that fact the girls were up again in the morning. This time I knew how the buses worked. I had my passes ready. We were off to see the Exploritorium. We took the cable car. Then a small walk to the bus stop and then to another small walk to the Exploritorium. The girls had a blast. I was worried that it might be too old for them to appreciate but we found lots of stuff that kept their interest. We spent about 3 hours there.

Then it was lunch time. The girls wanted to go back to RainForest Cafe. So we took a couple of bus rides back to the Wharf. We had a fun late lunch just me and the girls. We even had dessert. I had the Margilla again.

We were running late again and had to wait forever for the cable car. MI melted down and even though the line for the cable car was still long very few people got on with us because of the temper tantrum. Which in the end was all well and good because the cable car in front of us was involved in an accident. So we ended up walking in the rain for miles into the Downtown area. I got them worn out real well.

By the time we got back to the hotel Passionfruit was there as was my cousin. She had come into town to give us a date night in San Francisco. Once I got the kids all medicated Passionfruit and I rushed out to the cable car line in hopes that the accident was all cleared by then and that they were running again. They were and we head to the restaurant I saw that said it served South Indian food.

As we walked back to the restaurant from the cable car stop we noticed the mural painted on the side of the building. It said Kennedy's Irish pub and Indian restaurant! It had an elephant painted on the side, too. Passionfruit asked me if I really wanted to go. I said sure. I wasn't real hungery since I had just eaten at the Rainforest Cafe. Well we walked into the joint and it was definitely a bar. No doubt about it. It had video games, pool tables, air hockey tables, loud music played. It was dark and hadn't yet gotten smoky but the potential was there. There was a section where the tables were covered with white table clothes covered with glass. The chairs were painted white cafe chairs. This part of the room was decorated with Indian paintings and other Indian type decorations. The wait staff was interesting, too. They were all South East Asians, maybe from Thailand. Our waitress spoke not a lick of English. We ordered by pointing at the numbers on the menu. When I pointed to the wine list she pointed to the bar and said "You go there." So after a few minutes of soaking in the atmosphere of this eclectic place I sent Passionfruit over to buy me a glass of wine. He came back empty handed. Passionfruit said the bartender told him that our waitress would take our order. So I pretty much expected that I won't have a drink that night. But wait here comes this guy from the kitchen. He's an Indian. Passionfruit asks him where he's from in India. Passionfruit asked him if he knew Tamil and he said that he did. Passionfruit started talking to him in Tamil but the guy didn't understand a word he said. Well that was an uncomfortable moment for us. How does one save face? Well we ignore it and move on with the order for a glass of wine in English.

Soon we leave because the place is beginning to smoke up. I no longer can tolerate being around smoke. My asthma gets started when I inhale smoke. We went back to the hotel and arranged for transportation to the airport for the next day.

In the morning I got everyone up and dressed and packed. We went down stairs to wait on the car. Our driver's name was Freddy and I had seen him during the week. He had a Fumanchu beard and mustache. When he arrived we walked outside and to our surprise a white, stretch limo awaited us. That was a big surprise for us. The girls were all excited. Passionfruit and I couldn't believe it.

Our flights home were in the normal economy seats. We landed in Dallas with just 10 minutes or so to get to our connecting flight. I raced the three girls down the terminal. I kept my eye on the screens. Once the flight number disappeared from the screen I started to slow down. To my surprise they still had the door open and I hussled the girls up to the door. I turned around and there was no Passionfruit. So I handed the gate person his boarding pass and told him he was coming. She asked how soon and I said I didn't know. I figured he could get the next flight out but I was ready to go home. As I started down the chute to the airplane I hear the girls shout "Daddy" and there was Passionfruit. He had made it after all.

So ends our San Francisco saga.

San Fransicko... No that's San Francisco Part 2

Miss Independence pronounced San Francisco as San Fransicko. Pretty cute huh? Well she took it to heart while we were there. MI developed a fever, runny nose, a cough and goopy eyes. It all came together when she tossed up her lunch from "the transportation day" all over the hotel bed.

Passionfruit and I debated whether we should take her immediately to the doctor or wait for tomorrow. I wanted to wait. Since Passionfruit was still dressed I told him if he wanted to go he could. I wrote down all her symptoms and sent him and MI on their merry little way.

Two hundred dollars later Passionfruit comes in with MI. He doses her up and puts her to bed. Might, I add that this is a bed where Passionfruit and I were sharing with MI. When she tossed her cookies, we lost one of the pillows. I spent the night trying to share two pillows with two other individuals. I was left in the crack quite literally.

In the morning my cousin who lives somewhere in South San Francisco caught up with us. We had plans to go down to Fisherman's Wharf. Getting there turned into an adventure because MI threw a huge temper tantrum. It was pretty bad. MI threw herself on the sidewalk and cried and screamed. A group of Japanese people came along. They were so concerned for her and were ready to send out a search party for the parents. The neat part of this was everyone of them were dressed in Kimonos! I let them know that the mommy was near by.

Finally we get down to Fisherman's Wharf. It was down at the wharf where the girls really got to see the interesting people of San Francisco. There were people dressed up and painted in silver. I gave what few coins that I had to DQ to put in the cup of one man acting like a robot. Once she dropped the coins in the "robot" checked out what was put in and he made a tsk tsk noise and shook the cup. I don't think DQ knew what to make of this character. The man dressed in silver won't let people take pictures of him unless you gave him money.

We decided to go to the aquarium and do a cruise of the bay. To quote DQ, "Let me tell ya! The Oklahoma aquarium is far nicer than the one on pier 39." Still I think the girls enjoyed running around and looking at the animals.

Then we were off to the boat for the cruise around the bay. The wind was really cold so the girls cuddled up close and listened to the cheesy narrative. It was fun. DQ perked up when we were passing by Alcatraz. She had lots of questions about what a prison was and how did one end up in prison. DQ also asked questions about the Native American take over of the island. I was really surprised by her question.

While we had wandered around the pier 39 Storyteller saw a bungee jumb swing. She begged me to let her go on it. I was done spending money for the day so I told them that she would have to use her own money. She agreed and the next thing I know she is bouncing up and down and spinning around. DQ surprised me to death when she wanted to do it. She did it. DQ did try the spin/turn and she didn't like it. But she seemed okay with the bouncing up and down. I was so proud of her. Normally she is so timid about things like that. MI wanted to do it too. She was amazing. Her feet went passed the frame of the rigging. MI drew a big crowd. People were amazed that she was doing it and having so much fun.

We ended this outing with lunch at the Rain Forest Cafe. The girls loved it and I enjoyed it, too. I had a drink there. It was called a Margarilla. Orange sherbet and tequila. I wasn't sure about it at first but it was pretty good.

I will continue the saga of San Francisco because I have to tell ya all about our date night.

A San Francisco Saga-- Part 1

Our first day in San Francisco(or would that be 1/2 day) was spent walking around getting a sense for the neighborhood. Our hotel, the Maxwell, was very close to the Hilton where the geography conference was held. The Hilton was about a block down and a block over from our hotel. The cable car line was at the end of the block.

We walked up a steep hill and turned. We went to China Town. Passionfruit took pictures of the girls on the lions where the gate marks the beginning of China Town. I saw something that I hadn't noticed the first time to China Town. There is real jade carvings on the roof of the gate. I was amazed that these pieces hadn't been stolen. They must be worth a mint or two.

By the time we got back to our hotel I just wanted to lay down and sleep. I had been up for over 11 hours by that time. The kids were still raring to go. So Passionfruit took them out for some more sightseeing and dinner. They went to the Yerba Bueno gardens and playscape. After that Passionfruit took them back to the hotel for dinner. Miss Independence fell asleep in her seat at the restaurant. Storyteller quickly followed suit. The only one still wide awake was DQ. Passionfruit had a dielemma. He couldn't carry two children and DQ was still eating her dinner.

Well some nice ladies at the next table told Passionfruit they would watch two of them while he took one upstairs to the room. Once depositing MI with me. Passionfruit returned to pick-up the other two. It became a running joke at the hotel restuarant that the food puts our children to sleep because the same thing happened to me the next day when I took the girls to dinner. Luckily Passionfruit was expected to join us there at the restaurant so a sleeping child wasn't such a burden.

I wanted this trip to be a learning experience for our girls. So the second full day in SF I took the girls for a relatively long walk. My idea was to hook up with a bus; however, the bus was a lot cheaper than I expected it to be. I didn't have exact change... only a $5 bill. So we continued to walk until we got back into another business area. This made it an extremely long walk. We finally made it to a restaurant where we had lunch and recopirated from the forced march. MI fell asleep in my arms. DQ and ST needed to go to the bathroom. I had to send the waitress in to look for them because they took forever. I think they were in there for 20 minutes.

We then walked a half a block to the bus stop. I had made change at the restaurant so I could pay the fare. I didn't realize that the bus was announcing the next stop. I thought it was telling us where it was going. Anyway it wouldn't have mattered because a school group got on and I don't think anyone got off. They couldn't because you couldn't battle a group of 50 to 60 kids getting on the bus. I thought we could get off on the opposite side of the road when it looped around in the parking lot of the Golden Gate bridge. Boy was I wrong!! As I sat there trying to figure out where we were going and where we could get off to get near the Exploratorium I finally realized that we weren't ever going to be able to do this because 1) we would have to battle the school group just to get near the door 2) the bus wasn't going anywhere near the Exploratorium. We finally got off somewhere in South San Fransisco.(We were almost into Daly City) Getting back to down town was quite an experience too! The ticket machine was kind of broken. It could except dollar bills but that part was broken so I could only purchase tickets with quarters! We had to recross the freeway and go into one of the stores in the shopping mall. Then we had to recross the freeway for the third time. We got the tickets and waited for the the next tram to take us back to downtown. I met a nice guy on the tram who helped me figure out where I needed to get off.

We were all exhausted by the time we got back to the hotel so we ate at the hotel restuarant. I made everyone stay awake. We quickly ate dinner and went to bed. Which is what I think I need to do with this post. So I would have to say that I taught my girls about public transportation that day. We walked, rode a bus, rode a tram and rode a cable car (back to the hotel).