The Dancing Monkey

My choices are simple:  get a backbone, or dance like a monkey?  What would you choose?

Here's our morning routine:

Chase wants to eat for breakfast, "the yogurt thing at the PAC" (which is our old gym).  Okie doke.  So I pour some granola into the bottom of a bowl, throw some yogurt on top, add some slices of whatever fruit we have (damn-it, I didn't grocery shop ... if I pick out the dried strawberries from a box of cereal, does that count?).  Ta-da!  The yogurt thing.

But then, he didn't want it mixed and stirred.  Shit.  Now I've done it.  The whining and tears ensue.  

What would you choose:  Backbone, or dance like a monkey?

I chose to dance.  So I ate the damn yogurt thing, and started over, this time not mixing it.

Oh, but I forgot, he doesn't like his juice cold, or his yogurt, or his freakin' ice cream.  Uh-huh.  So I warmed a bit of apple juice in the microwave, and added it to his mixture, thus making it about room temperature.  

I know, a f*ing dancing monkey.

But that's just the first kid.  At breakfast.

And so it goes...

Tatum wants a turkey wrap, for breakfast, with mayonnaise and tomatoes.  And she wants orange juice, without pulp, and a bowl of cereal.

Then there are lunches.

I pack two different lunches.  Most twins compare number of crackers and sizes of fruit to make sure their tortured parent makes them exactly equal, not mine.  

He wants yogurt.

She wants cheese.

He wants almond butter and jelly.

She wants turkey.

He likes apple sauce.

She doesn't.

He wants Hawaiian bread.

She wants salad.

He wants a muffin.

She wants that thing that Samantha had in her lunch box.  You know, the little balls, that are different colors, that are in a little bag, that are purple and pink (?).

What would you choose:  Backbone, or dance like a monkey?

And on and on we play the game.  Don't even get me started on dinner.  Remember the dinosaur nuggets?  And I know, I know, just make one meal.  If they're hungry enough, they'll eat it.  It worked for you, right?  Yeah, shut up.  

Maybe I just like being a pathetic dancing monkey.  Just think at the extra calories I'm burning. 

Today

(Shout out to my camp friends!)

Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine.

I'll taste your strawberries, I'll drink your sweet wine.

A million tomorrows shall all pass away,

Ere I forget, all the joy that is mine

Today.

-John Denver

I've been having one of those days.  Oh, but not one of those days, rather one of those days where all of the zen-ness of the planets being aligned, and the stars and the heavens surround me.  I'm taking a break from being a smart-ass and just sayin' ... thank you big ol' world.  Thank you for taking such good care of me.

I was pulling our little red wagon, with my two kiddos behind me, warm wind in my face after a day of just simply, being a Mom, and I realized, this is it.  This is what I had always been waiting for.  Those days in high school, or college where I wasn't sure if I'd get the career I had dreamed of (teaching, and I did), the family I was wishing for, the husband and friends to support me, my family to rely on.  I'm here.  

If I could show that jamie of ten or fifteen years ago, what would become of her it may have taken some of the worrying away.  Of course, it would have taken the adventure and suspense away too, but lookie here, this is it.  And although there is much, much ahead yet to be discovered, I am so proud and thankful for today.

The Bitches Went Out

When bloggers get together in San Diego, they bitch it up, bitch it down, and bitch it all around Uh-huh.  These bitches are becoming like family, and really, I'll let you in on a little secret ... shhh... they're not really that bitchy.  

But bitches we are called.

So I'm hereby dubbing them with a new name ('cause I'm good at inventing things all by myself*).

There's The Wine Enthusiast One:

(AKA Mommyrella)

She said something about blah, blah, blah training for a half marathon, but I didn't really know much about that training stuff.  Then she said blah, blah, blah something about wine, and my ears perked up 'cause I know a little something about that stuff.  But then it turns out that The Wine Enthusiast actually really knows a little something about grape stomping, so then it was all blah, blah, blah again.  

Then there's the I'm Blushing and Forgetful One:

(AKA katydidnot)

She said something about blah, blah, blah, I have a hot, new man, and blah, blah, blah, I forgot my wallet, and then we made her promise to buy dinner for the next five blog get-togethers, and she totally will, 'cause she's a pushover.  

We also had the Queen Bee Who's Not Really a Queen Bee One:

(AKA Jenn at Juggling Life)

And she was all let me tell you about this awesome way to handle bitches, not us of course, but the real ones.  Then she said something about blah, blah, blah my purse is so organized and you are some jealous bitches, and blah, blah, blah I look all innocent and sh*t but I've got some good TJ stories,  and then she split the bill all perfectly in her head I got all jealous and stuff.

Then there was the Crazy I'll Make A Totem Pole One:

(AKA Mel, A Dramatic Mommy)

She was all let me write that blog name down, oh and let me write down that shrimp, and that chicken, and that sip of medori, and then I'll blah, blah, blah make you pee your pants laughing and then she wrote down some more.  The she did some math too and blah, blah, blah that's a big-ass fish and blah, blah, blah you just peed your pants again huh?

Oh, and then there's the My Head's As Twisted As a Harry Potter Novel On Steven King Steroids One:

(AKA San Diego Momma)

And she was all my daughter asks about blood curdling screams and blah, blah, blah, I'm finishing a novel this year, and blah, blah, blah I might be house shopping and let's make a totem pole picture.  

*And then there's me, who brilliantly proclaims to have made up the following Bailey's and decaf drink:

Where would I be without these bitches?  I dunno, not popping four aspirin this morning for one.  But what an awesome group of ladies.  And although some of the bitches were too wimpy and tired to come out, we love you too.  

Mosaic Meme

I first saw this at Jennifer H's Thursday Drive, and was reminded to try it again today by Jenn at Juggling Life.  This is a mosaic meme, created by you, about you, but using public photos.  What a fun process it was just making it.  

I hope you'll try too.  (If you have any questions, I'll try and help.)

Click to enlarge

Here’s how it works . . .

Answer each of the questions below.

Surf over to Flickr (set up an account if you don’t have one–it’s quick and easy) and type your answers (one at a time) into the search bar.

From the choice of pictures shown only on the front page, click on the one that moves you.

Once the page with your picture opens, copy the URL.

Surf over to the Mosaic Maker, set up your mosaic, and paste your URLs.

Click “Create!”

The Questions:

1.  What is your first name?

2.  What is your favorite food?

3.  What high school did you attend?

4.  What is your favorite color?

5.  Who is your celebrity crush?

6.  What is your favorite drink?

7.  Where would you go on your dream vacation?

8.  What is your favorite dessert?

9.  What do you want to be when you grow up?

10.  What do you love most in life?

11.  Choose one word to describe you?

12.  Your Flickr name? (I used my blog name.)

PROMPTuesday

Deb over at San Diego Momma has a fun writing challenge.  I always mean to try it, but then I read some of the submissions and get clouded with other people's images, and lose my nerve.  So this week, I'm playing along before I read the other entries.  

The rules are simple.  10 minutes only.  Follow the prompt and write.  Here we go:

You’re in a bookstore. You see stacks and stacks of books, but one in particular catches your eye. Something about the title. You’re intrigued. You pick the book up, open it, and read the first paragraph. Now you’re hooked. What is the title of the book and what did the first paragraph say?

Her hand reaches across the table, fingers tracing the outline of letters.  She circles the book table once, first searching for titles, then twice, searching now for photographs on the covers.  Is it here, she wonders?  Week after week she searches for the one.  She settles on a paperback, rubber boots on a porch, a hand print on the glass door.  Flipping the pages quickly near her face, she inhales.  The smell of fresh paper and ink.  No.  Not this one.  Next her hands float along the table straightening stacks, feeling the raised print of text.  This time they reach for a hardback, a black and white photo, a child, perhaps four, centered between a man and a woman.  The young child, head thrown back, toes reaching for the sky as the couple swing her forward.  Once again, the pages are brought up close enough to smell.  The woman fans them again, and breathes deeply.  Instantly she knows, this is it.  This is the one he left for her.  The one lightly scented with his familiar scent of bar soap, and leather.  She's found it.  Tomorrow, the title reads.  Satisfied and enthralled with her discovery, she tucks the novel under her arm, and heads for the counter.  

(You can play along too.  Head over to San Diego Momma for some divine entries.)

A Birthday, A Move, and a Trip to the ER (Part II)

First, it was my husband's birthday.  Because we lived in two oddly empty houses on his birthday, I decided to pack up the kids, come to the new house, and dive in to cake-baking.  It looked a little like this:

Blowing out candles looked a little like this:

Then we moved, finally.  And it looked a little like this:

Check out the shirts, inspired by Cheri at Blog This Mom, won by Jenn and Juggling Life, and created by Trish at This is Trish's Blog.  It was a collaborative effort.

Then there was a little bit of this:

Although this time it wasn't at the beach, it was in our living room, and the landing didn't go over quite as well.  Let's just say, Patrick has never been so afraid in his life.  Tatum fell out of his arms on the landing, on her back, and her eyes rolled back.  

I was called downstairs to the scene.  I asked Tatum where it hurt.  She pointed to her forehead.  Again, she fell on her back so I was a bit worried that her brain had done a bounce on her forehead.  She whimpered, but didn't cry much, which is almost harder.  But she didn't seem too badly hurt.  More shocked than anything, like her Daddy.  

Then Tatum fell asleep.  Uh-huh.  About 5 minutes after the fall.  I know, I know.  We're not supposed to let them sleep after a head injury.  But it was extremely hot, it was around 2:00, and she may just have been truly tired.  She slept on the couch while we watched her breathe.

Then she woke up.  And vomited.  And vomited.  And vomited a third time.  She wasn't saying much more than a mumbled word here and there.

So Gran rushed over to take Chase, and we went to the ER.

Tatum vomited on the drive over as well.  

We got in.  It took over an hour to be seen.  But in that hour, our tiny little girl became much more like herself.  She sang.  She spelled words.  She went potty.  She smiled.  She talked on the phone.  We had a feeling things were going to be alright.

By the time we were seen, it had been about 4 and a half hours since the fall.  She was okay.

Here's a good lesson, besides not throwing your kids in the air anymore, (can I just tell you how utterly scared and terrible Patrick felt?), according to the ER doctor, if your child has a head injury and falls asleep and vomits, it's not necessarily reason enough to bring them in.  He said it was more important to go based on their behavior.  Are they acting abnormal, which in her case was yes.  I'm no doctor, so follow your own gut, but I had always thought falling asleep was a no-no, and then vomiting meant, holy crap, get the kid in NOW.  Tough call.  We called about 147 doctor and nurse friends and they all said, go to the ER.  Glad we did.  Even better, that she is just fine.

Ta-Da!  I'm okay!

And here they are, the next day looking, and acting as cute as ever.  Thank God.

A Birthday, A Move, and a Trip to the ER

So it feels as if I went and stuck my head in a bucket this time, because we haven't had internet service in 5 days.  Do you know that that feels like a month?  What is happening with all of my blog friends?  I wish I knew.  Do I have new emails?  Not really sure.  At the moment, I'm borrowing a wireless signal from a neighbor, but I'm typing quickly because I'm afraid I'll get booted off, at random, again.

Much to say.  Pictures to share.  Short story is this:

It was Patrick's birthday.

We (finally) moved.

We took Tatum to the ER for the first time.

(She's okay...)

I miss all of my blog friends and (my husband) will get this router thing figured out soon before I commit myself, or leave him for a few hours while I go to a Starbucks.

More soon, just thought you should know I'm alive, and I can't wait to catch up on your lives.