Thursday, September 17, 2009
So what I am trying to say is that with the excessive competitiveness comes the ugly triple headed sports mom. Now, I have seen them, watched them and told myself "pfheww, I will NOT be like that with my kids", however that little monster peeked her ugly head out of the shell last night. I scared myself.
That realization that I had just made a complete ASS of myself in front of others (it is bad when you do that in front of the people you love, but a whole different matter when it is people you don't know) I felt the hot eyes. And I fully deserved every bit of disdain I received. I own the ridicule.
I was a hard on the Kat. I forgot that this is her first year playing, I forgot she is not physically conditioned yet to keep running, I forgot she does not know about protocol and procedures.
Luckily this league is forgiving to these young athletes and are more understanding of a young six year old and her propensity to over dramatized her fatigue for the masses. Not all of it was pure exhaustion. Learn from my mistake and turn the lesson into how can I help her and keep the triple headed sports mom in the van.
Here are some shots of the last two games. In the end, they had fun and so did I. The Kat is a great defender, she has had two halves of playing the goalie and kick some rumpus. These kids make this game sooo much more exciting than any sporting event with adults. Pure joy of being a kid let loose and kicking a ball. Autopilot all the way, and they always travel in a pack, aka "bunch ball".
I need to work on my action photography.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
So, I am feeling sort of sassy today, nice shirt and pants, hair is looking pretty good, and I sit down at my desk surveying the work to be done. I happen to run my hand over my neck/collarbone area and feel something poking from my skin. What the hell is that? Did I have a piece of food, a booger, stuck to my skin? So I promptly grabbed hold of the object and pulled. I grabbed my hand mirror to inspect what the hell is going on. Geezus Louezzus, it is a frickin grey chest hair.
How long has that bad boy been hanging out there? What did my body suddenly decided the estrogen wasn't enough? Ok, Ok, I get the hair on the upper lip thing, I get the occasionally hair under the chin, but the chest? Come on man, it is not like I don't have enough issues to deal with while I am getting OLD!
So, there it is. My TMI moment for the whole world to read. I, Whimsy, had a grey chest hair. Just sayin'.
Whatcha got growing on you?
Thursday, August 20, 2009
OH NO, WHAT IN THE HOLY MOTHER HAVE I PROMISED? The wheels turned and turned, search and searched all over the Internet. Who would be charitable enough to indulge a foolish mother pinkie promise to have her kid's picture printed in a magazine?
Well thankfully, not only is there a magazine, which is local, and my friend had her picture on the COVER, I went to the website and sent in a picture of all three of my monkeys. I waited. Waited some more and finally just gave up.
Lesson learned, don't make promises with kids you can't keep. Then just when I was digging my hole a little deeper for another reason, I get an email. My friend says (and I am paraphrasing) "OMG go look at this link!" For her a great moment because she was awarded the cover and for me, another great moment, go look on page 29!
I am truly happy and honored to have my photographs in print in a local magazine of my three monkeys. I know they have limited spots and a bagazillion entry photographs. So I got to keep my pinkie promise and "Look Mom, I am Famous"
So please enjoy, I am off to my next adventure. First Grade Back to School Night! Pictures will follow this event, stay tuned.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
I have three autonomous potty kids who stay dry all night long. Everybody breathe with me now, whewwwwwwwww!
I don't want to see another diaper, pull up, a little plastic bag full of fun from school, or a damp sheet. No more wiping butts, wait, what is that feeling I am having? What is that pang in my chest? OH DAMN IT! ::sniffling:: MY BABIES ARE GROWING UP! ::sniff, sniff::
I know what you are saying, Woman you can't have it both ways, I get it. I really do, so where one door closes another window opens up.
Now I have to make good on the Disneyland promise.
Monday, August 17, 2009
My baby girl has started first grade. She bounded out of her bed, chanting "first grade, first grade, yeah, yeah, yeah", completely wound up and ready for action. She completely pissed me off with her aloof behavior this morning but even through my frustration, something was gnawing at me. Dressed, teeth and hair brushed, breakfast eaten, and by 6:30 as I was walking out the door with my little ones, I looked over my shoulder to get the last glimpses of my baby.
I know I am being overly misty about the whole situation, but I have invested 6 years and nine months into this relationship, nurturing her little body and mind, expecting to always see the big cheeked darling smiling back at me. But instead there is a whole other person standing in front of me. Staring back with her big, brown doe eyes, questioning everything, already putting the wedge between me and my baby. UGGGGGHHHH!
The truth is she is not always smiling at me, in fact more often than not, she is thoroughly pissed with me. And well, I do deserve the snarky looks sometimes, not ALL the time, but some of the time. I go back to the core of it all. The core being, she is always loved, she is always cared for, she is offered a listening ear, she is disciplined when warranted and through all of the toil, in the end, she will be a better person and hopefully someday say thank you and really mean what she says.
I can't wait to hear about her day and find out how "cool" everything is, what friends are in her classroom, and all the homework I will need to find a tutor for myself in order to help her.
Does this anxiousness ever go away?
Friday, August 7, 2009
While we (the little kids and myself) are commuting to work and school I look in the review mirror and see grumbly faces. Because the little kids are little and have no concept of the passage of time, days, weeks, hours, I help them remember their birthday by telling them when the pumpkins start to appear their birthday is coming. Well they remember the pumpkin part and coincidentally we happen to pass a field which is growing pumpkins.
So I start making funny voices and goofing around by asking them whose birthday is coming and the pumpkins are coming and look there is a pumpkin patch. So the frowns start turning into smiles which makes the ride a bit happier and the Big Easy starts in what he would like for a birthday present.
I say ok buddy tell mommy what you would like.
Big Easy says "I would like a hippopotamus and flies that work."
Me: What? You want what?
Big Easy: Yeah, I want a hippopotamus and flies that work. The hippopotamus will eat the flies and I want them to work. Maybe we can get a bag to put in his stomach to catch them.
Me: Very puzzled and still trying to drive.
Big Easy: And I would like to have a soccer ball to play with after the hippopotamus is done.
Bitsy: I would like to have Sleeping Beauty slapstick.
Bitsy: Yeah, I want slapstick, you know for my lips.
Me: Anything else?
Bitsy: No, just slapstick.
As you can see, I have got some shopping to do.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
August, Latin origin, the eighth month on the Gregorian calendar originally named for the Roman Emperor Augustus Caesar in 8 BC. August was originally known as sextilus on the Roman calendar. But I digress, with the approach of the month of August this means there will be only 17 days before she wakes up, gets ready for school, AND STARTS THE FIRST GRADE! HOLY COW FOLKS THIS IS BIG!
Has time sped up? Have I dropped into a worm hole? What the hell, my kid will in the first grade and I have turned 40. These things, my age and she starting first grade, are to the best of my feeble mind not compatible.
I look at her and she is different. I think I must reconcile with myself there are many, many more events to which I will look at my dear, darling daughter and not recognize her. I am still looking for the pudgy cheeked baby and before me is a strong, agile little girl. I am not sure my heart can take it. I am as nervous as a cat on a block of ice in the middle of a pond. New teacher, new kids, more opportunity for her to become independent of me. I want to keep her snuggled under my arm, kissing her forehead.
So I am taking suggestions. How do I keep her little. Is that an option? This is legal right?
Disenchanted, discombobulated parent in the burbs
P.S. Please send all sympathy cash, gift cards to me. Do not, I repeat do not put The Husband's name on any of the envelopes. Really, just send it to the P.O. Box I have provided, he doesn't have the number or any idea the mailbox exists.
P.S.S. Just in case for those who may have put The Husband's name on the envelope, or if The Husband happens to read this entry, please don't make multiple mention of the incoming envelope. He has a short attention span and really if a squirrel would run by the window he will be distracted and days will pass before he senses there may have been something he missed.
P.S.S.S. To the husband, you really didn't read anything. OH LOOOK!!! A SQUIRREL!
Monday, July 27, 2009
This is Bitsy catching me taking her picture while she is in the middle of her pitch meeting for the latest mommy dearest novel. I am hoping it is fiction. The look she is giving is telling me she does not consider the book to be fiction. I think she is giving me the stink eye. Oh boy, don't look her straight in the eyes, that would be dangerous.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
This is my monkey Ethan Taterbug, Hootie, Dr. Destructo, the Tank, Ethanator. I wanted to share some some things about my baby monkey.
He is a twin, born last in line by only a minute. This little "Big" guy came into this world a whopping 6 pounds, and some change. He was incorrectly measured at 19 inches but I believe he was only about 1/2 inch shorter than his "older" sister. He is a "man" amidst a harem of women. If and when the boy gets to speak, his sisters do most of the talking, it is usually very important boy business. He was sooo very blond when he was born it took almost two years before we saw eyebrows.
His personality is very sweet and gentle. He is my lovie, every day I get the biggest of hugs and an unsolicited "I love you mommy". He melts my heart and God help the girl that tries to marry my baby boy. When he hugs you, his little fingers give an ever so gently pat on your back. His spirit is genuine, he loves and protects his sisters. This is not to say he won't give them a what for when they push his buttons, that is what brothers do I guess, he is not afraid cuddle on the couch with his girls and watch movies. He also is a willing participant to play Prince Charming in many adventures to save the damsels in distress. I think he is well on his way to being a good man.
When he was a infant, because as you all know he is still my baby, he would softly hoot when feeding. This is how he got one of the many nicknames Hootie. He has not hooted in awhile, well since he stopped drinking from the "nottle" (a mixture of homegrown milk source and the manufactured style).
The boy does not like change in his environment. Now, he succumbs to the event, but on his own terms. I recently made some decorating changes to his room, since the boy light turned on I thought I would make his room a little more masculine. The Husband and I got decorations for the walls, trains, you know, boy-ed it up. So when he came home from a weekend at Gma's house, got excited and oohed and ahhed, then just at the last few moments before going to sleep he said to me, "Mom, take the stickers out of my room" I say "Son, they stay on the walls", he said "no, I don't want them in here" I said, "Son, the glue is permanent". Still if any of us leave items in his room which do not belong there, shoes, towels, whatever, you will find a little pile of stuff outside of his bedroom door.
He is very ticklish! It doesn't matter which part you go for, neck, tummy, toes, the result is the same. Total pee in the pants laughter. His little face turns red and he sounds like a wind up toy. I only have faint memories of laughing that hard, courtesy of Doc, Heather, Bambi, and Godzilla. After he begs you to stop, he promptly asks "Tickle me again!"
Dreamy blue eyes. The boy has hound dog, round dreamy blue eyes. They twinkle, and if I ever get to be a great photographer I might be able to produce a picture to prove it.
All boy, all the time! The light came on, so fast in fact he went to sleep and the next morning I was being invaded by boom sticks. How do they know this stuff? He is hard pressed to even take a nap, uncorked amount of energy could light an entire city.
He is a man of few words but when he speaks he has something to say. He recently has been developing a collection of stories he tells me in the car about when he was a baby, and how he had to go down the tracks. It is very similar to Abbiedo's one time at band camp. The story usually starts, "Mommy. MOOOMMMY! This one time when I was a baby I had to walk a very long way across these tracks."
He L.O.V.E.S. trains. Can not get enough of them. On a weekly basis he would like to take a ride on a locomotive. If only I lived closer to a train museum, I think we would be there every weekend. He will sit in his room for hours playing with his toy trains, loading the cargo cars, standing over the tracks so the train will go through his legs. Like I said, all boy, all the time.
I love this boy. My children are very special to me, but a mom and her boy, that is special too. I will dearly miss those days when the hugs and kisses are not as plentiful or freely given. So for now, I will take what I can get.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
I love this little girl, my life is richer and more challenging with her in it. I am so curious to know what life brings before her, I know that she is going to kick life's ass.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The deed was done, I was committed to a night of laughter. Robin Williams would be in Vegas and I treated the ole ball and chain to a night of comedy. I was pretty stoked after the initial purchase trauma wore off. I said to the Husband; pack thy bag ole naive, we are hitting the trail for funsville. Like he needed any prodding. There you have it, one big father's day shindig for my loving gorilla. I had hit the peak. Then, the storm came in.
A mere two weeks since the infamous clicking of the left mouse button, the news came. “Weapons of Mass Destruction Tour to be cancelled due to heart surgery; all East coast shows to be rescheduled”. Ok, I thought well, Vegas is a little farther west and hell maybe he will get better by then. Nope. Now don't get me wrong, I wish the man well, and I am happy his heart is healthy again and he is going to continue to tour. WHEN ARE YOU COMING BACK TO VEGAS?! Apparently, not in the too distant future, or even in this calendar year. Yeah, all I am seeing on his website is the East coast. WTF! See the obsessive compulsive side just went to the site again just in case.
Ok, so now we are committed, got plane tickets, hotel, car rental, there is no stopping the trip. So we leave. Got on that jet plane, knew when we would come back again, and tried to figure out what are we going to do. Well what the hell else are you going to do, you go to the desert.
Let's take a look shall we?
Almost every rock surface had holes, burrows, or some kind of cave like dwelling. Brian loves holes so this was really fascinating and compelling for him to climb into one. I know, you counseling types, you can analyze him later. I have my own theories.
I was excited to take pictures again, I seemed to have lost my mojo as of late and cannot seem to get my camera to do what I want it to do. It is a constant argument with myself and the camera. So far, the camera is winning. Winning big.
The road into the park is small, winding, and HOT! Yeah, I tried to lay down on the asphalt to get the "arty" shot but I burned my biscuits. My biscuits are too old to be burned in that manner.
My homage to the burning bush. I felt a little like Moses for like a second. I was hot, bothered and looking for some water. Funny thing about the desert, even when it is overcast, still FREAKIN' HOT!
One of the attractions besides the amazing colors of the landscape was the 3,000 year old petroglyphics of the indigenous Basket people who lived in this area. The preservation is outstanding and apart from the visiting chuckle heads that think they are being funny carving into the rock and defacing a state park, it is truly amazing to see how people who lived thousands of years before you communicated. I am awestruck in the pictorial detail and care that went into the drawings.
I am still wondering how the hell did these people survive here? Man, there is no visible water sources, I am told there are two kinds of food pods growing wild in the area but to find something that small would be a miracle at best. This is tough living folks.
I told Brian to jump, for once he did what I asked him to do. ::smiling:: And as you can see below, MY man found himself a hole to climb in. Can you tell he is squealing like a little girl on the inside?
One of the local residents. Luckily this guy was hanging out in the visitor's station in the middle of the park. I like them but getting this close is allowed when they are behind glass.
The local color, bright and beautiful.
Proof that I have a husband. He often claims I don't have enough pictures of him. The Pigeon, looking cool as always.
Another local resident ran up to my feet while I was taking pictures of the flora. These guys are fast.
This was in a place called Mouse's Cave. This was on the 1 mile round trip trail to an area where a renegade would escape and be able to find water. At the end of the trail, there is a natural collection bowl in the rocks where he would be able to stay in the area for months. When we arrived all we found was a insect infested pool of dirty water. Geez, I guess if I was thirsty enough it would do.
Brian also likes to climb rocks. He is one with the rock. You can never take the boy out of the man. I sat at the bottom and took pictures.
On the hike back to the car, these guys showed up. I was not afraid to get close and they were not afraid of me. Actually I think they enjoyed the posing. I even got a little head bob from the big one.
This guy looked a little worse for wear. He was molting and there was a little evidence of a fight in the recent days. Tough little bugger.
The road out of here was barely a road. At some points it was just gravel and no way to contact anyone. I think we may have even wandered into Arizona, but I can't be sure.