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.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, September 03, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, August 27, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, June 04, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
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.
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.
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