Loves Walks Through the Weeds

Apparently I like to get places in a hurry. The Universe has tricky, sneaky, unpleasant ways of teaching lessons. That's why Mason is my kid. He takes his time. I mean he really takes his time.

A 1-block walk takes about 30 minutes with him in tow. But I'm sure the neighbors appreciate his technique for eradicating dandelions.

And in case you think peppy encouragement helps him speed up, I can confirm that the following phrases DO NOT WORK:

Fast feet!
Can I see some hustle?
By all means, move at a glacial pace.
Macey, I will give you ice cream if you can beat me home.
Let's have a race!
Mason, you don't need to pick up every yellow flower.
Come on, now.
NOW!
Look, Cooper is leaving us.
Hurry uuuuuuuuuuuup!


In fact, it has been my experience that the aforementioned basically triples our time.We got to get this situation fixed before we go to LEGOland or I will loose my mind in California.

My Nemesis

Grrrrrrrrrr... I am considering inhumane ways of extinguishing this situation.

Can I Buy an A

For whatever reason I'm trying to discourage sleeping in the nude. But the children are like furnaces and by morning they have stripped out of their PJs. So, I purchased some A-shirts. Widely known as the wife-beater tank. Cooper took to 'em like I'm sure Sambora took to his first guitar.

But I'm having to retrain myself to call them A-shirts. What self respecting woman teaches another generation of men that anyone -- no matter what they are wearing -- can beat a wife?

Now, let's just hope he doesn't ask for some shit-kickers. Because where I'm from, they are called nothing but.

Horror Balls

In case you are not in the know, there is such a toy as a Horror Ball. And my children love them. For your benefit, let me just say they are plastic toy stress balls with horrible stuff inside. Generally anything from eye balls to worms to rats are floating in a little fake blood then encased in a rubberized ball that is also encased in a rubberized sheath that has "windows" into the horror.


My children favor the rat horror ball. But not for the purpose you may think. Within two seconds of getting the balls home my boys proceeded to cut them open and then clean the rats. Now the rats are a favorite toy. The rats have been renamed Mousie -- all of the rats have the same name -- and are petted, patted, and cuddled like a non-horrifying plush animal.


The games we play with Mousie and his friends the maggots (extracted from the less favored horror ball) include lining up like soldiers, running on the blind cords, and going in the car on adventures. The main adventure I seem to take the rats on is the up-the-vacuum adventure. But don't tell anyone.

Son of a Seamstress

Between hours at the pool, minutes at the gym, and moments at home I find time to stitch a few things. Essentially, I am a seamstress. I find it remarkable that no matter where I hide my tools, the boys find my measuring tapes and play with them as if they were whips, ropes, or zip lines. All boy, but still, the sons of a seamstress.

Meet the Asters

Do you remember who's mother first said "First impressions count"? I sure as hell do not; however, the Asters have taken the edict to heart. They know visitors to the porch will brand them. But they don't mind -- would you if you looked this good?

May I Introduce

The garden is movin' and shakin' which means I'm taking pictures, and freaking out my neighbors. They don't even pretend to understand me anymore. They just tell me that I'm weird, and I revel in it.

Here's the debutante dame. Planted 2 years ago, this is the first summer she's decided to stick out her bearded tongue and bloom.


And her companion is a backward homage to Georgia O'Keefe. Not a poppy, but a peony can stand in place I think. Right?


I launched a grand experiment this year and introduced a tomato plant into 6 of my 16 containers. Hoping for a bumper crop...


I always make room for the volunteers -- or rather -- they help themselves. They are back this season, just on the edge of the sidewalk chalk drawings.


Come back tomorrow and meet the Asters.

Quarantine: Summer Brain

Oh Hello there. Remember me? In case you haven't heard, I have a severe case of summer brain. Not to be mistaken with a brain on drugs, nor brain dead -- but pretty damn close. Turns out, it's a little bit contagious and the whole family is struggling to get back on its feet. You may recognize the symptoms.

Most cases are characterized by an abnormally pink sunburn on the nose and cheeks.


... then you get a mysterious ring of chocolate ice cream on your lips and chin...


often accompanied by new short haircuts


and occasionally associated with both a beach towel and swimming ribbon.



In rare cases early symptoms usher in rare animal sightings in the front and back yard.


These sightings may lead to excessive documenting of garden specimens.


If you’re considering treatment for summer brain, I suggest discussing this with your lifeguard, playmates, neighbors, or even your doctor as they may interact with productivity, efficiency, and motivation.