A Little Help

Following my fantastic girls' weekend in the mountains Karma saw fit to strike my family with sickness. Namely poor little Mason was saddled with another ear infection and stayed up all night screaming and crying for help. He wasn't able to fall asleep until 8 a.m. when my husband figured out how to hold him just upright enough that he could sleep without pain. Then on the heels of no sleep for anyone in the family, except Coop, I came down with some kind of feverish stomach ailment. Awful. I couldn't walk without extreme dizziness and basically huddled in bed shivering while my face burned off. So strange.


During this time, my Cooper saved us all. He played with Mason and got him snacks. He would quietly tip toe into my room to give me an update from time to time. But mostly helped everyone recover. So in the entire cycle of cause and effect I'm pretty sure that he will be blessed in future experiences.


I should also mention that against all natural laws I received a letter in the mail during this time from a new but soulful, far-away friend. It was sent solely to lift my spirits. Thanks Donk, God is very fair and I am certain will give you exactly what you deserve. And with that, my friends, I am off to sow goodness, because I need to reap a little goodness.

Oh, I Get It: The Husband Version

My husband is a few years older than I. Not a big deal, however, we tend to have a problem when it comes to movies and music.

He'll say, "Remember that one movie..."

And I'll blankly stare at him and think, "Remember it from what? Fifth grade?"

Anyway, I had the opportunity to see Footloose for the first time. And now, I get it. I now understand why he dances the way he does and tends to dress the way he does (but only when he's lounging and positive no one will see him). I also instantly fell in love with him all over again. That movie came out when he was in high school, so I'm sure it influenced him just a little bit.

Much the same way I was influenced by backward pant wearing, lipsinking, chubby girl in the bee costumeing, scrunchies in the hair type pop references during my high school years.

The other thing I realized when I watched Footloose. My son has Kevin Bacon hair.

Huh?

I'm going to skip over all the funny quips and just spit it out. Mason drew this picture. Please note crosshatching through the entire body and face of the child.

When I asked him what it was he said, "A little boy in a dark closet."

PS -- If you commented on the sewing blog, or this one, or my facebook wall on Feb. 2 you were entered for a free giveaway. The winner has been announced.

Photographic Evidence

I like catching my kids doing stuff they know they are not meant to do. In this case, I caught Cooper drinking soda. Not just soda, but Diet Coke. Are you kidding me?!?!?! Who gives a 5-year-old Diet Coke?

It was a wild afternoon. That's all I'm saying.

When I asked Cooper why his soda was brown, he got all nervous and said, "It's that kind that makes you stop growing. But I'm only going to drink it once. So I'm OK."

Good nuts! He's that kid.

Mason also had some soda -- non brown variety -- but I'm not worried because it clearly did not make it past his chin and is now on his shirt.

A Little Closer

As we hunched over his Spanish homework, in the very public lobby of our local recreation center, Mason noticed something on my eyelid. With great concern and obvious abhorrence he asked "What's that on your eye?"

When I said I did not know -- duh I can't see my own eye -- he drew back in detestation with a hint of nausea and said, "I think it's sugarbugs!"

For the record, it was dry mascara.

Bragadocious

In this quarter we have planned a few -- maybe too many -- activities for our kids. Everything from Swimming Lessons to an afternoon with 5 professional musicians. Because we run from lesson to lesson, I've had to come up with creative ways to help them get their homework done. I'm not the first mom to do this. In fact I observed mother after mother reviewing homework in the lobby of the recreation center and knew we needed a similar solution.



One of the lessons that gets the least attention is Spanish lessons. Until I remembered I had a stockpile of flashcards. I also made some additional ones on Study Buddies (which are my absolute favorite studying tool) and tucked the whole lot in a tote bag with their pencils and workbooks from school. When we're on the road driving somewhere I can shout to the backseat English words and quiz them on the Spanish equivalent.

They are giving it a college try...

Julia: Flower! Who knows the Spanish word for flower?

Mason: Ground!

Julia: No.... close.

Cooper: Rug!

Julia: Come on guys... it sounds like flower, too.

Both: Flor! (Sounds like Floor.)

We're still working on Spanish. Good thing next month is tennis and the Mother/Son Pirate Quest.



PHOTO NOTE: Pictures from swimming lessons -- which have been going a lot better since we discovered (and treated) Mason had an ear infection and Cooper had a sinus infection.

Personal Insight

You know how some people – more specifically a lot of artsy-fartsy people – claim that if they don’t create they are not living. I am one of those people. I create whether or not someone is paying me to do it.

For the greater part of my working-for-a-paycheck life I have written, photographed, published, or edited something. And now, even though no one hands me a regular paycheck to do it, I write every day. I simply don’t think clearly unless I do. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve actually thought about something until I write about it.

And so it is this personal insight that spared my little artist a spanking. (That and he’s super cute.)

You see, Mason just is not Mason without a pen in his hand. More specifically a pen in one hand writing on the other hand. I could come unglued about it… scream, yell, rip the marker away from him… but I know he needs to do it.



The thing is, I haven’t figured out which part of it he needs. He’s either remarkably hypergraphic or dying for a tattoo. Frankly, there is the outside chance he just wants a part in Avatar II. And until I figure that out, I will continue to hide the writing instruments.

PS – If anyone writes me and tells me I shouldn’t spank my kid,; actually I’m not even going to answer that.

Screaming to be Kissed

Please enjoy this sweet portrait of Mas. Because tomorrow I'm going to tell you what he did with a green marker.

Call the Dentist

I'll just admit right up front that I made an ill-timed decision to bake some monkey bread, in the middle of the night. So my children woke up to my smiling face encouraging them to have fresh baked monkey bread for breakfast. Coop apprehensively took a bite and then exclaimed, "I didn't know we could have candy for breakfast!"

(Would you have preferred I lied, and told you I fed my boys organic, wheat-germ, wheat-grass, flax seed, protein shakes?)

Career Choices

It's not everyday that you get a glimpse into the future of your 5-year-old's career choices. I am fairly certain, however, that today will go down in history as the first time Coop scratched upon the surface of what may become his gainful employment.

Mid-way through the morning I got a random voice mail message on MY cell phone. It was a bit incomprehensible but was a jumble of panicked, excited words that amounted to:

"Cooper, I need you. I can't defeat this level on the Ben 10 game and I need your help because you can defeat it. Call me. Oh yeah, this is Ethan Johnson.*

After laughing hysterically I handed the phone to Coop and explained he had a phone call. With a shrug of the shoulders he proceeded to carry on a 10-minute tutorial -- in. great. detail. He actually ended the call with a promise to "come right over and help".

To recap. He successfully carried out a Help Desk Tech Support Call and made an appointment for a Tech House Call. Help me.




*Obviously the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

I'm Over It

My bathroom has been under construction for three months. Way too long. And I'm over it.


But the kids -- as inconvenienced as they are -- kinda like it. They stand for hours watching every move their dad makes as he sweats the pipes, rips up the sub floor, and on and on and on.


And while I don't have anything to say about it, I thought you'd enjoy seeing Mason watch his "ruined" bathroom get reconstructed.


If you're interested in a free purse, I'm giving one away. Visit my sewing blog.