Vote for me...pretty please.

A little over a year ago, I got an email from the Blogger's Choice Awards letting me know that I had been nominated for 2 awards. One was for Hottest Mommy Blogger and the other for Best Parenting Blog. I was surprised, flattered and touched. Most of all because the blogger who nominated me was someone whom I had never heard of. How nice is THAT! Her name is Jennifer and she has a blog called Ziff-Niffer. She talks about family life on Oahu, Hawaii. She voted for ME! And for... Dooce. Yes, Dooce. Me and Dooce going at it. As of today, I have 9 votes for Hottest Mommy Blogger and Dooce has 365. So, I'm getting really, really close to Miss Dooce. Oh, baby...YES. Well, not really, but...if you could click on the badges and vote for me, I'd really appreciate it. All you have to do is click on the badge and it will take you to the Blogger's Choice Awards. They'll ask you to fill out a quick form where you create a username & password and then you can vote for me! That's all you have to do. And I'll sell youze a Ginzo knife and be eternally grateful... And you don't have to have a blog to vote for me.

I'm up to 9 votes, People!!! And I'm friggin' PROUD of those 9 votes. But, if YOU vote for me, I might...just might make it to 20 by midnight. That's right. You, TOO, could be a swing voter. That's swing VOTER. Not SWINGER. The polls close on October 15th. Vote for me...pretty please.

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IMC project: Saving the lives of malnourished children

This weekend I was surrounded by family to celebrate my stepfather's 70th birthday. There were 19 grandchildren there, including my own BOY & GIRL. All of the children are healthy and well fed. There are some food allergies, no small thing when it can be life threatening, but overall, our biggest problem is whether our children are picky eaters or not. That is our biggest problem. There is never an issue of not having enough food. Our children have beautifully rounded cheeks, strong limbs and mouthfuls of healthy teeth. We are blessed.

All weekend I found myself saying, "I'm starving!" It was usually said with a smile after a full day... spending a few hours in the pool, going down a water slide chock full of children, both young and old, screaming with gleeful abandon. All of us heading back to my mom's house- ravenous.

Starving.

Ravenous.

I really don't know the meaning of... Starving. Ravenous.

But, The International Medical Corp does know the meaning of those two words. The IMC has been nominated to be one of the Top 25 in American Express' Members Projects, "Saving the Lives of Malnourished Children" and is in the running to receive up to $1.5 million to help feed hungry children. They have a 90% success rate in saving children from malnutrition. If you are an American Express member, all you have to do is click on the link to vote. If you are not an American Express member, you can help by passing the word along.

Today is the last day to vote, and there are only a few hours left. The International Medical Corps is currently number 5 in the Top 5 American Express Members Projects. If they drop out of the Top 5 they will receive no funding, so every vote counts. Let's do it! Let's see how many votes our community can garner. One click and you could help feed children who are truly starving and ravenous. One click and YOU can make a difference.

It is something we can all do. Especially when their children are our children. Let's reach out and connect with another community and let them know that our community cares.

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THAT hamster wheel

I'm not sure what is going on this morning. The sun hasn't come up yet and I'm finding myself teary and at a loss of what to say. Not something that happens all that often. I think...I KNOW that I've been hopping on that hamster wheel of no return...mom-wife-errand runner-must pack for weekend trip-another 3 loads of laundry- and now I have to fold it!-haven't yet-still more errands to run-make sandwiches-leave pet instructions-get the oil changed in the car-and I can't get off the ride because I'm in charge-bring GIRL to school for 1 hour so she won't miss her first show-and-tell at the new school-before we leave for our 6 hour drive to my mom's-where it will be fantastic to see everyone-but, because I've worn myself out-I came down with a bloody cold last night-... THAT hamster wheel. DEEP BREATH. Yep, that about sums it up. And does anyone have a kleenex?

Of course all of this could be explained by the current state of our country which appears to be going to hell in a handbasket. Whether it is being told that we're now responsible for a deficit that has more zeros than I can possibly add up myself, or that someone running for office can play tiddly winks with Russia by looking out her kitchen window from Alaska...honestly, I'm not sure that I'm really awake. Am I? Unfortunately, I think I am. And guess what? We're all in this hot tub together. So, move over honey and let go of your germ phobia.

I'm going up north for a couple of days to celebrate the birthday of a wonderful man, whom I am lucky enough to call my step-father. While I'm gone make yourself at home here.

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I believe my Mound of Venus has been RIPPED OFF

I have just confirmed two things. That I am not into S&M. And… if you are going to experience pain, tis’ best to take that shot of JD beforehand. Yes. Have that shot or two of self-medication. Skip the cola. That little bit of sugar won’t do anything to prevent the onslaught of FIRE that occurs when you choose to have hair ripped out of your nether region. Hair. RIPPED OUT.

You see, I went to get my usual done. My upper leg wax that I get every 6-8 weeks. It's a bit painful, but bearable for the result. Dreamy smooth skin. I hadn’t had a bikini wax in years and thought ..why not treat myself? Treat. Yeah…I DID just say that. So, I go to my usual gal and say that I want a little bit more taken off this time. Note my use of those three words… A. Little. Bit. I pointed to the area. She nodded. We communicated. Or, so I thought. Apparently, a little bit means something very different to me than it does to my anesthesiologist. Oh yeah, I mean aesthetician. I SO could have used an anesthesiologist, though... Oh, my…YES. I could have. It would have been so lovely to sleep through THE PAIN.

Is there not something additionally horrific about a nice woman talking in a quiet voice, the two of you sharing stories of your lives, and every mmmm... 30 seconds or so she causes you PAIN? There you are chatting nicely back and forth. She lays the warm wax on your skin, which feels kind of soothing…lulling you into a false state of relaxation and then…RIPPPPPP. Silent Scream. Pain. PAIN. That was PAIN. And then she does it again and AGAIN- yet checking in with me every once in a while to make sure I'm O.K.?

O.K.?

Yeah…sure. But, what THE HELL just happened? I believe my Mound of Venus has been RIPPED OFF. And maybe my Vagina, too. Is it still there? I look. I think it is. Still there. Gulp. Gulp. Trying not to cry… I smile back at her through clenched teeth. Can she tell I’m faking the smile? Would another woman NOT EXPECTING this much PAIN have BITCH SLAPPED her? But, I can’t do that.... Damn! I'm a nice middle-aged suburban woman. I’m a mother for God’s sake! I stay SILENT. We talk of other things. Anything. Best NOT to focus on the PAIN. Or… to look down. I flip over onto my stomach. Dear God. Let my ass be hairless. It seems the worst is over. Phwwwooooo...We finish. Amazingly my panties still seem to be on. I thought they had been shredded. No blood? No evidence of the carnage? I'm shocked.

I thank her. I get dressed. I pay her. I feel lighter. So MUCH lighter. I walk out. Am I taller? I believe I AM taller. Did my body unravel into a stretching yoga pose whilst I was on the madwoman's table? Oh, no…it is just that I’m walking higher. My feet aren’t really touching the ground because my entire VA JAY JAY is on FIRE. And I’m...well, I'm ...hop walking. Kind of like a cowboy who has been in the saddle all day with burrs in his britches. Except not.

I get home and drop trou. Panties next. And what greets my eyes? Oh…NOOOO. Oh, no, no, nooooo. My VA JAY JAY looks like it is a VA HEY HEY for air traffic controllers. The hair (what’s left of it) resembles a…a… a landing strip. Yes. A. Landing. Strip. IT IS HIDEOUS. Hideous, I tell you. Some fucking feminist I am.

There IS a silver lining in all this. Isn't there? There is! Tonight, once I can walk again, I’ll have a new signal system for my husband. No more WINK WINK NOD NOD.

Hey, honey! Lookie lookie! Just in case you didn’t know where to put the engine down, here’s your very own landing strip!

..................................Now, you know sweetie…staring is RUDE.
................Come on DOWN...BIG BOY!

What would Mae West say?

Are ya gonna be a LOOKIE LOO or a WINNAH, Big Boy?

On second thought…I think I’ll have the lights out and have him fumble around for the goodies. But, that's later. Right now? I’m going to lie down and put ice on my mons pubis. And in my next life…I’m going to come back as a hairless Norwegian.

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Someday I will photograph my husband's hands

I love looking at hands. They speak to me. Someday I will photograph my husband's hands. Perhaps a series in black & white. I find them beautiful. They are large, squared off, and rough. And intoxicatingly male. I like the touch of them on my skin...

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Happy Birthday, E! Thank you for working so hard for us. I treasure the beauty in your hands and in your spirit.

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A very, VERY DARK tale told by a BOY and a GIRL

The following must be spoken in hushed tones...

There was a dark, DARK forest.

In this dark, DARK forest was...
a dark, DARK house.

In the dark, DARK house was...
a dark, DARK room.

In the dark, DARK room was...
a dark, DARK closet.

In the dark, DARK closet was...
a dark, DARK shelf.

On the dark, DARK shelf was...
a dark, DARK bag.

In the dark, DARK bag was...
A GHOST!!!!!


A very, VERY DARK tale told by a BOY who is 4 & a GIRL who is also...4.

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Perhaps I'm feeling my mortality a bit

There are those days in which you go from one task to the next, waking up before dawn and not stopping until you climb into bed. In this case, with my laptop. Yes, it has been one of those busy days. Yet, I've been tuned in to it all, feeling grateful for my life. That I have this life. My own. Perhaps I'm feeling my mortality a bit. Turning 47 can do that to you.

Today I am grateful.....

...to have the tasks that have kept me busy, for they speak of my being a mother.

...for my husband because he loves me, encourages me and is open to my growth as a woman and human being.

...for the joy and excitement on my daughter's face today as she anticipates her birthday tomorrow. She was given a birthday crown at school today, and didn't take it off until she got in the bathtub tonight.

...for my son as he insisted that I have a candle to blow out with my dessert at dinner. He is a sweet one, my boy who is not yet five.

...for my father who called to wish me a happy birthday today, and spoke of the day he was having - windows flung open to catch a fall breeze -the weather reminding him of when I was born in New York all those years ago.

...for my mother who always writes the mushiest, most loving cards, and tells me that I am a good mother.

...for my brothers and sister who never forget my birthday.

...for friends who nourish and inspire me.

...for the discovery of how much I love to write.

...for caffeine, chocolate and a little whiskey.

...for fishnets

...and for the life that I have, just as it is. In this moment in time...may I live it well and wisely...

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Where is heaven?

I've been a little down & out the last couple of days fighting some kind of Montezuma's revenge... boil, boil, toil and trouble...going on in my stomach. I was lying down on the couch last night and BOY came up to me.

Why are you lying down, mommy?

I don't feel well, BOY.

Oh, do you have a FEVER? You do. I know what you have. You have mouth fever.

Mouth fever?

Yes, that is a very, very bad fever and you are sick all over. Yes, you have mouth fever.

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GIRL and I were talking the other day about the various things that I do.

I'm a mom, I'm a writer--

No, you're a blogger.

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BOY's been learning how to do some things on the computer. He can now click and drag with the mouse. He likes to play games and puzzles on the Thomas site.

BOY, time for dinner!

I can't. I'm blogging right now.

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During storytime, I was reading a book about children going to sleep in all different ways around the world and how GOD loves every child.

BOY: Where is GOD? I miss him.

ME: He's right here, sweetie. He's always with you.

BOY: Where is heaven?

ME: I think it is up, but I don't know.

BOY: It's on the moon!

ME: It is?

GIRL: Why can't we take our bones with us?

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Tina Fey saves my ass this week

I have to admit I've become one of those liberal whiners lately. Sarah. Palin. Need I say more? It's enough to make you want to bang your head against the wall, ruin a good whiskey by chugging it, and gorge yourself on chocolate under the bed covers. But, then there's Tina Fey. I ADORE HER. Tina Fey. Tina Fey saves my ass this week. Because I have become humorless when it comes to the current election season. And that Tina. She's going to help me get my groove back...

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There are many things that stand out about this preschool

I'm not sure who is happier with the new preschool, BOY, GIRL or myself. We are loving it! We had the orientation day last Monday in which we were there for an hour and I ricocheted between GIRL's class and BOY's. BOY jumped right in and made himself at home with the astronaut and space station toys. GIRL clung to me pretty closely, but was enamored with all that was offered in her classroom. Each classroom has a reading loft with a bookshelf and big, plump pillows. On Monday, that was where GIRL gravitated.

I am really impressed with the teachers. They are warm and always offer a friendly greeting to all of us. I felt invisible a lot of the time at the previous school. The greetings were always addressed to the kids. And if I greeted the teachers I felt that I was intruding on their time. It is very different here.

On Tuesday I emailed the Director, as I was a bit nervous about GIRL's transition to the new school. Primarily the drop-off. I knew once she was comfortable, she would have a blast as she loves school. The Director emailed me right back and said that she'd have GIRL's teacher call me. She did, and we had a lovely conversation. Wednesday morning came and GIRL surprised me by giving me a sideways hug good-bye. Her way of saying, "Later Mom!" She was already immersed in the doll house in her classroom. Then, when I picked her up she was literally bouncing.

BOY was on the run as soon as we got to the lower playground. (There are two great playgrounds and they alternate between the two.) He flew across the yard and was on a bicycle going across a bridge within seconds. I had to flag down his vehicle to give him a hug good-bye. BOY's class has 13 boys and 4 girls. Can you say...destiny?

So, perhaps it is me who is feeling a bit anxious with the transition. I am the new mom on the block. The parents have been very welcoming, and I'm looking forward to making new friends, but, I do miss my other mom friends. I do. We went through the trenches together...

The Pre-K class has a science center and they'll be doing a lot of science projects this year. Right now they have a bin full of metal and nonmetal objects. The game is to separate the items that gravitate to the magnets from the ones that do not. I wasn't aware that this was really a game, but indeed BOY assured me IT WAS. And he proceeded to show me how to do it.

There are many things that stand out about this preschool...

Cell phones are not allowed on campus. The Director "feels it is very important that your child feel and know they are the most important person to you. Coming to school and being picked up from school is a time when your child wants and needs your uninterrupted attention." I LOVE that! I couldn't agree more.

They have a reading program to encourage the love of reading. Every time we read a book together we log it onto a sheet. BOY & GIRL each get their own sheets. After 20 books have been read, they get to pick out a special toy from the special surprise basket. To keep. Then a new reading log begins.

It's an Episcopal preschool, so they will have a 15 minute chapel time once a week starting in October. The emphasis is on the children knowing they are all loved. They'll have a simple story and sing songs. At Christmas time they have a concert.

Last Friday, at the end of the first week, I collected the things from BOY's cubby and was surprised to discover 5 photographs that the teachers had taken of BOY over his first couple of days. Each child had photographs in their cubby. It brought tears to my eyes. This is so different from before. So very different... Things could change. Perhaps we're going through the "new school dream phase." But, whatever it is...I just want to take the time to enjoy it. Because it feels like I'm wrapped up in velvet. And I like it.


**Picture courtesy of Google Images

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Weekend tidbits from Casa de Motherscribe

FOR SALE: Gorgeous caramel brown leather sofa & chair. Great condition.

SOLD: To a single man with a hottie girlfriend. The hottie girlfriend patted the furniture. Patted it. I don't think I need to say more.


Single man ecstatic!

Direct Quote from single man: This is the DEAL of the CENTURY!

It's a Win! Win!.......... JCK & E earn profit of $450.

Most importantly...

JCK's theory on leather furniture & men has been proven.
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Conversation at local park:

Male Friend who helped E maneuver the leather furniture into the house over the BlogHer conference weekend while JCK was off campus (those sneaky, sneaky boys...) says to his wife: Do you believe JCK sold the leather furniture?!!!

Wife to JCK: What IS IT about the leather couch, anyway?
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GIRL: You know when you say you're dusting books? It sounds like you are putting dust ON them.

GIRL definitely has a point. In fact, having children really shows you how ridiculous and nonsensical the English language is at times. It has given me renewed respect for anyone learning our language. And...yes, occasionally I do dust.
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While unpacking items placed in a shopping bag by my mother, I noticed the shop's name... Soma Intimates....

Mmmmm...methinks the fishnets do not fall far from the tree....

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An art project with BOY & GIRL

One of the highlights of our recent trip to my mom's was the time she spent with them on an art project. They made close-pin people. She has a large bin with all sorts of items that can be recycled into art projects. Tops, lids, spools, containers, all become other things firing up a child's imagination. She also has gorgeous swatches of fabric and colorful yarn.

GIRL worked very meticulously on her project. She spent over an hour and made 2 ladies and a house with Ma'Mai.

BOY made one man. He had some hair, pants barely on, and a face. Then he scribbled over the face and said, "He doesn't want you to see his face." He decided that a shirt was unnecessary on this clothes-pin man, but decided the man needed a town. There were 2 buildings, the man's footprints, and a lake with pistachio shell boats (Ma'Mai's idea.)

I LOVE their differences...as only a mother can.

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A world in which we can look at each other and see the good

Today is a special day of remembrance. A day to honor the people who died on September 11, 2001. It is an opportunity for us to hope for a better world for our children. And not just to hope, but to create that world ourselves. A world not ruled by fear and fear mongers. A world that we can stand proud in, with honor. A world in which we can look at each other and see the good. Evil exists. Everywhere. But, if we turn our backs to hope and most importantly love, it will be a tragic world indeed.


To Hope

By John Keats

When by my solitary hearth I sit,
And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom;
When no fair dreams before my "mind's eye" flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head!

Whene'er I wander, at the fall of night,
Where woven boughs shut out the moon's bright ray,
Should sad Despondency my musings fright,
And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away,
Peep with the moonbeams through the leafy roof,
And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof!

Should Disappointment, parent of Despair,
Strive for her son to seize my careless heart;
When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air,
Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart:
Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright,
And fright him as the morning frightens night!

Whene'er the fate of those I hold most dear
Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow,
O bright-eyed Hope, my morbidfancy cheer;
Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow:
Thy heaven-born radiance around me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head!

Should e'er unhappy love my bosom pain,
From cruel parents, or relentless fair;
O let me think it is not quite in vain
To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air!
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head!

In the long vista of the years to roll,
Let me not see our country's honour fade:
O let me see our land retain her soul,
Her pride, her freedom; and not freedom's shade.
From thy bright eyes unusual brightness shed
Beneath thy pinions canopy my head!

Let me not see the patriot's high bequest,
Great Liberty! how great in plain attire!
With the base purple of a court oppress'd,
Bowing her head, and ready to expire:
But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings
That fill the skies with silver glitterings!

And as, in sparkling majesty, a star
Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud;
Brightening the half veil'd face of heaven afar:
So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud,
Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed,
Waving thy silver pinions o'er my head!

** Girl with heart balloon courtesy of Google Images

** Children's artwork after September 11th courtesy of Google Images

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Let's Go, Let's Go...to our NEW SCHOOL!..Dun Dun TCH!..Dun Dun TCH!

A couple of weeks ago BOY started singing some of the lyrics to Queen's "We will Rock You." It goes something like this...

dun dun TCH!

dun dun TCH!

You got mud on yo' face

Yo' big disgrace

We WILL We WILL ROCK YOU!

We WILL We WILL ROCK YOU!

dun dun TCH!

dun dun TCH!

Listening to him, E and I enjoy his instrumental sound effects...dun dun TCH! , dun dun TCH!.. most of all. Although I think BOY's favorite part is definitely "...mud on your face."

BOY has suddenly discovered music. While we were at Ma'Mai and Pops over Labor Day, he quickly found an old bugle and figured out how to blow it. I was quite struck with him figuring it out on his own. You see, I never learned how to blow a horn, trumpet or bugle. And probably...never asked anyone how to do it. So, it was with great pleasure that the two of us sat down on the couch one morning while at my mom's and BOY taught me how to blow the bugle.

Here Mommy, this is how you do it. [BOY demonstrated, and then handed it to me. ]

I tried to blow it. There was the... lame sound of air lost inside a bugle...it was very sad.

But, HOW do you do that BOY? The sound won't come out.

Mommy, you do it like this. [He then proceeded to show me how you blow a RASPBERRY to make the bugle produce sound, rather than blowing out air.]

OH!! Let me try!! I said.

It worked! I can now produce what probably wouldn't pass for music, but is still a real bugle sound. And, I also have been heard practicing the art of blowing raspberries. It IS an art! Who knew??

We were BOTH thrilled! I loved learning from my BOY and he loved teaching me.

He proceeded to BLOW the bugle all weekend. For our own sanity and the preservation of our ear drums, we kept sending him outside to march around the courtyard. Since he loves to move and can blow a bugle, I'm thinking...MARCHING BAND. Perhaps BOY will invent RUNNING BAND. Apparently while I was in the shower one morning, E, BOY & GIRL had a marching band outside. BOY on bugle, GIRL on drums and E on the harmonica. I'm sorry I missed it.

E IS musical. He has a pleasant tenor singing voice. Sometimes I like to quietly listen to him during church. Most importantly, E can play a mean harmonica. He pulled that out of his hat after we had been dating for a while. Oh, by the way... A friend was playing the guitar, and E just jumped in with the harmonica. It was pretty dreamy....

Unfortunately, I am NOT musical. In any shape or form. I played the cello briefly as a child, and took some piano lessons, but nothing stuck. I didn't have the interest or talent. And...my singing voice is something to be feared. For whoever happens to be around me at the time. Just shy of tone deaf. That would be ME...Which is not to say I don't enjoy music, because I do. Just much more when other people are playing. And the job with the singing telegram company that I had in my 20's? Well, that was a challenge I set for myself to get over my mortal fear of singing solo in public. It worked. And I learned how to really play up the fact that I couldn't sing and put that to good hammy, ham bone use.

Apparently, BOY is expanding his musical interests to include song writer. This morning was the first day at the new preschool for BOY & GIRL. He was very excited. He was ready to go about...oh, 20 minutes before we were due to leave. As he headed out the door, I overheard this...

Let's go, Let's go

to our new school!

dun dun TCH!

dun dun TCH!

We will, We will...

go .. NOW!

dun dun TCH!

dun dun TCH!

Just shy of tone deaf or no...all of us could feel the exciting rhythm of a new school year unfolding...


**Swedish Bugle Boy sculpture courtesy of Google Images

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Are you confused by men?

Are you ever frustrated by men? Who? Little ol' me?!

Are you ever confused by men? Every friggin' day.

Do you have trouble with “mixed messages?” I have problems just with the messages. I never get them. Never mind the messages being mixed.


Tomorrow evening I am going with a couple of girlfriends to a free seminar called: Making Sense of Men. Uh huh. I told E that I was going to a course that would help me understand men. He just looked at me. And then he started laughing. And hasn't stopped...

These are some of the highlights mentioned in the course:

Men are attracted to women – no news there. But, did you know there are two types of attraction? One type will have a man want to cherish you, adore you, and take care of you. The other type of attraction will have him thinking only of how to get you into bed. In Making Sense of Men you’ll discover that women are the source of both types of attraction.

Just off the top of my head, having been married for almost 13 years, I'm going to jump all over having him think only of how to get me into bed.

Learn how to listen for the words that a man says when he cares about you. In Making Sense of Men you’ll learn that, while men and women might use the same words, the meaning they give to those words can be very different. Phrases that women speak casually can have deep and significant meaning when spoken by a man. Misunderstand the communication and you could miss a critical signal that indicates a shift in your relationship.

Just the other evening, I came home from the store. E was watching a special biography on the two presidential candidates. I came in the door saying that I got salmon at the store and would like to have an early dinner. What I meant was...I got some salmon at the store for you to grill and would like to have an early dinner TONIGHT. What he thought I said was something, something, something about salmon and early dinner someday this week.

I can vouch for the fact that a critical signal was missed. And the relationship shifted. An hour and a half later...I was pissed. He was at a loss.

Tomorrow evening I will return armed with ..."loads of valuable information you can put to use right away"

If not, at least I'll have an evening out with the girls...


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I am told by the source that this qualifies for Painted Maypole's Monday Mission, in which the task was to write a post in the form of a course description. For more fun and creative course descriptions, please check out Painted Maypole herself as she writes a hilarious post today on Continuing Education.

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This is what I see...

The photo above is from our visit to my mother's home last week. Here, she is making a blueberry cake with BOY & GIRL.

This is what I see...

The wisdom in my mom's fingers. The sense that she has done this many times before. The steadiness of her hands - one firmly holding the bowl, the other dipping down to stir.

BOY's hands are paused. A pause. Not something captured very often in a photo of BOY. Yet, he is engaged in the task.

And GIRL, there she is, her hand carrying a load of blueberries. I can see her again in my mind, her little face upturned to her grandmother's, listening to every word of instruction.

It was the best visit with the kids. Ever.

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I truly believe that children come into our world with their own uniqueness

If you've been reading me for a while, you'll know that I often talk about the gifts that my children have brought into my life. Most notably, just themselves...as they are. I also talk about one of the bonuses of having children so close in age is that I can see the striking differences in personality at the same ages. Those books on your child at 1, 2, 3, 4, etc., all have their place, and often are "right on," but I have found that BOY & GIRL are more different than alike. Especially in how they do things and view the world.

BOY likes to jump right in, meet new people, experience a novel place, and do things a little differently from "the norm." He learns while moving. He will fool you every time when you think he hasn't taken something in, OH...but he HAS. And, he chooses when to let you in on it. He is clever that way.

GIRL is an amazing observer. She loves a good conversation. She watches. Everything down to the smallest detail goes in, assimilates in her brain and then she can explain to you what she has seen. She is quick to memorize and repeat things verbatim back to you. For the most part, she draws comfort and enjoys doing things "the right way." She takes charge and nothing slips her notice.

BOY has no boundaries. He will walk up to a stranger and throw his arm around their leg or pat someone's tummy and greet them. Everyone is a friend and people are charmed by his openness. Having some boundaries is something we will have to work on with him.

GIRL has very firm boundaries. She is reserved and cautious when she first meets someone and is able to make some adults uncomfortable with what we like to call her 500 yard stare. She is an old soul and it can feel like she sees through you. She has good, healthy boundaries and our work with her is to acknowledge people upon greeting and to encourage her to put that amazing vocabulary that she owns to good use. She is thoughtful and analytical.

Because of, or perhaps someday in spite of...their differences, they get along like gangbusters! The first two years were all about running, but now they play together so well and I am continually struck by their creative play and how they complement each other. Of course there are those days...everyone has them. But, secretly...I feel so lucky that I'm out of the diaper stage and on to the ongoing discovery of who these little people are, whom I love so much.

I say all this with confidence, yet I do know that they may change on a dime. Isn't that what half of parenting is? Being able to move, duck and cover with the mercurial changes in one's children? Yet, I am always fascinated by the discussion of NATURE VS. NURTURE.... Having both an adopted child and a biological child has caused me to weigh in heavily on the NATURE side of things. I truly believe that children come into our world with their own uniqueness. We may help shape and guide them, but they are their own little people. And, they never let us forget it...


***Picture courtesy of Google Images

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On the radio: Motherhood Unplugged

I was on a new LA radio show on KPFK 90.7 FM last Saturday called, Motherhood Unplugged. It was a great experience! Amy Simon, who is both host and creator, contacted me at the end of July to see if I would be interested in coming on the show. She found me through an essay I wrote called, "Where life is a bit bumpy with a BOY and a GIRL 10 months apart." I had submitted it to LA Parent magazine this past winter for an essay contest on motherhood. It details how BOY came into our lives through Open Adoption, and the shocking discovery of my pregnancy with GIRL when BOY was an infant.

Amy provided a fabulous environment in which we all felt safe and valued for our work. It was lovely. If you'd like to listen to my piece, please click on this link. There is an introduction to the show and my reading starts at 7 minutes 45 seconds into the show. And if you have time to listen to the whole show, you're in for a treat. There are some very talented, funny mom writers out there!

If you like the show, please go to http://www.kpfk.org/ , click on Program Comments (on the left) and tell them to move the show into a better time slot! Amy Simon has got something going on with Motherhood Unplugged! Here's to Mothers who Write!

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Chatty Snippets from the 6 hour road trip home

BOY: I'm going to marry GIRL! ......... Oh, you can't do that, right?

JCK: No, BOY, you can't do that. Someday you'll meet a lovely lady and marry her.

BOY: I could marry a man!

JCK: Yes, BOY you could.

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BOY: GIRL, can you name your child "BOY?"

GIRL: Yes.....

GIRL: NO!! I'm not going to be parents. I'm going to be a doctor.

E: GIRL, you can be both a doctor and a parent.

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JCK: Next time we come up here... when we get to this winding road, Daddy and I are going to switch seats and I'm going to drive.

E: No way.

JCK: I just can't take being in the passenger seat. My stomach...

E: I get that way, too, when I'm in the passenger seat. ..............I'll get you one of those miniature steering wheels so that you can feel like you're driving.

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Wafts of what can only be human gaseous delights erupt from the rear...

JCK: Okay...WHO tooted?

PEALS OF GIGGLES FROM THE BACK SEAT.

GIRL: It was ME! heeehheeehahahahagigglegigglegiggle

E: SEE! It's primal. To laugh when you fart.

JCK's eyes roll around into the back of her head....

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Would I have glimpsed their sweetness?

Sometimes...in moments, I look at my children and take a long, deep breath. A breath that resides and flutters in my soul. If I could have looked ahead all those years ago, when I was lying down in a cold, sterile room waiting for the doctor to come and do another procedure to make me pregnant... would I have believed it? Would I have glimpsed their sweetness? Their beauty? Their special little spirits? Would I have imagined their challenging questions? Their hunger and delight in learning new words? Would I have seen myself standing by my husband E, together...as parents? Proud and puffed up like goofy penguins? Could I have imagined the feel of their sweet, soft cheeks pressed against mine? The touch of my nose to theirs? The giggles? The shrieks? The sound of their soft breath kissing the air as they sleep snuggled in their beds?

I am many things. A woman, feminist, wife, sister, daughter, friend, writer, but if there is anything that I identify with at this time in my life..it is being a mother. It can be tricky at times. I can feel a bit lost. Sometimes crazy. But, always, always it is the most important, the most meaningful piece of who I am. It is so much more than I imagined all those years ago. It is fuller, riper, harder and richer.

What I do know is this...that Life with a BOY who is 4 and a GIRL who is almost 4 is the most fascinating, intriguing, challenging, and scrumptious life I have ever feasted on. And I can't get enough...
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This post is inspired by my friend, Mrs. G from Derfwad Manor, and her post: Tired. I so aspire to what she speaks of as both mother and writer.

And dedicated to my lovely guest posters this past week. Thanks go to: Philosopher Mom, Happy Geek, Thursday Drive, On the Upside, Rants and Raves and Flutter. It was so much fun to lay the posts out...one per day. All of you with such unique voices. All of you so generous of spirit. Thank you for sharing your stories on my blog.

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Flutter guest posts on Motherscribe

Assignment: Christine, can you please make me look good? Not just good, but ...STEAMY. You see, I've had a week of the most AMAZING, kick ass guests on my blog and I've got to come back from vacation with a little sashay in my flat ass. The fishnets are getting a little saggy and I turn 47 this month. Oy! I know, I'm not Jewish, but there's no better expression. So, give it all you got, baby! Oh...and I'm only posting this because most of my readers will never meet me and think it's true because it's the last time I'll be called hot. Well, before menopause hits...

Here she is...the dark...the divine...the always delicious...Flutter....(the check's in the mail, babe!)...my final guest poster. What a week...*sigh*
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Did you know that JCK is hot? Seriously. Like, flaming, gloriously beautifully sexily hot? Because I am here to tell you, friends...she totally is.

She is beautiful and kind and when the F word trips off her dainty tongue, it sounds like glittery prose from a profane fairy. She will lay on you for photos, if you let her. She will drink booze, rifle through free books and smile so large that her beauty blocks the moon, in other words? JCK is the shit.

In the best way possible.

She will pat your knee, laugh hysterically and make you cry in the middle of a dive bar in San Francisco. Although, I imagine the same rules would apply in any city. When I curse? I sound like a trucker with no manners. When she curses? Magical waves of sass filter down, and drown you in a tsunami of fabulous. Her purse is cuter than yours. It just is. And you can't even hate her. BECAUSE SHE IS TOO NICE.

She will look amazing in everything she wears, handle her booze like a pro, and compliment you on your dress. In other words? Everything you think she is, she is....but amplified. In fishnets. How ever did we all get so lucky to have her in the blogosphere?

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Flutter
A survivor, a writer, a knitter, a cook. Sometimes someone who kind of sews, a beginning painter, a diabetic. A singer. An amazon with a predilection for high heels and vamp nail polish. A wearer of red lipstick. A friend, a fiance, a sister, a daughter, a soft place to land. Able to belch like a trucker, write the perfect thank you note and laugh at a fart joke.

Poetic, loving, struggling. Dark and divine.

flutter is a girl named Christine, and she writes here. but be nice, she bites.

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