Friday, January 30, 2009


You want to go to lunch?
Just you and me?
My blue-eyed boy with golden hair
laughs! and hugs me tight.

It is the beauty of this moment
in which all those years
of yearning... for a child
are tangible.

Sitting across from my son
his cheeks full of mac-n-cheese
spoon diving into creamed spinach
I sit entranced, devouring him.

submit to reddit

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Yes... sometimes, despite her children's undeniable lusciousness, she wishes to sling back a Jack and Coke at noon ...

She leads a lovely, rather ordinary life. And, on most days she likes it like that. She is contented. More than that...she hopes that someday, when her children are older, they will know that this period of time with them has been filled with richness. Indeed, they are her lifeblood.

Her best poetry comes to her when she is doing the everyday tasks of caring for her family - preparing dinner, tackling yet another mountain of laundry, or catching a glimpse of her children playing outside. Even in rare snatches, it arrives within her head amidst the cacophony of sound emanating from the rear seats of her minivan.

There are times when she knows the day is not going well by 9am. When she has trouble formulating a simple grocery list. Something that is as familiar as sleep and brushing her teeth. And then, while in the aisle...stands there in a swoon, fondling the wine bottles as if they are close friends. The labels lilting her way ...vanilla, smooth, soft, velvety finish... A song to her tone deaf starved heart. And ...later, when she drives into the gas station, pulls up to the gas pump, gets out, and realizes that the gas cap is on the other side. Her mind has traveled further than the much needed tank.

Yes... sometimes, despite her children's undeniable lusciousness, she wishes to sling back a Jack and Coke at noon... declaring to all and sundry that IT'S JACK O'CLOCK! INDEED. She's ready for her own whiskey a go GO. Perhaps, if she really knew what was going on in the neighboring houses, she would find kindred spirits in her need for Room to breathe.

Days when the loud hum of the stove hood's fan is welcoming instead of intrusive. The noise, a usual annoyance, her friend. For it closes out the nearby shrill cant of Diego as she fixes dinner. is Word Girl? The DIN. Beating into her like clubs wielded by neanderthals. Yes, white noise...YOU are welcome here.

The greatest irony is that there is no one to blame but herself. Unfortunately. Her world of laundry piles, meals to make, schedules to keep ...are all in a disarray of her own making. Because. She hasn't scheduled herself any time. And she is a snarling, bitchy mess within. Occasionally oozing out around her edges.

What saves her is the blank page. Sometimes it taunts--> daring her to throw down words. Sometimes it lets her slide keyboard strokes across its snowy surface. And sometimes it stares, bored, yawning... into a silent void. Yet, whatever the blank page, she usually cannot leave it so. For it feeds her. Whether it is a self-conscious rant or careless phrase or hours spent upon one word, it is enough for today...

***"Shaken and Stirred" Painting by Chuck Gumpert.

submit to reddit

Monday, January 26, 2009

The truth is that sustaining a marriage is hard work

Wherever I turn these days, I run into another friend who is experiencing a rough patch in their marriage. Friction at best... talk of separation and hitting the worst. And sometimes that isn't the worst case. Some couples are just not meant to stay together. And some couples still love each other, but wonder what the hell happened to their partner. Is this the same person I fell in love with?! Who IS this person in my bed?

There comes a time when a couple has been married to each other for a while. A time full of life on the run with young children. And, kisses so fast in the morning you later wonder if your faces actually touched. Conversations started and stopped by the little engines that could, and can, interrupt you at every turn. Until, you stop trying. And you're depleted at the end of your days, so you each take to your corner of the world within the walls of the place you call home. Sometimes connecting in the dark, sometimes not.

Marriage is challenging. Adding children to a marriage is more than doubling the work. It is as if you are suddenly each speaking in another language, your commonality of words a foreign tongue that you are both just learning. Each feels alone with their logged tally of unseen, unheard wounds inflicted by the other. Or so it seems...

Yes, marriage can be like that. If you are lucky, and your partner believes in the long haul and no "easy outs," then you can grasp hold of that and ride in together on that perilous wave. Because, like all good things that last, there are dips and rocky shallows that one must wade through to get to the sandy beach. And the sand feels so....good, but then of gets too hot.

The truth is that sustaining a marriage is hard work. And both partners have to be willing to come together and do the work. No one wants to admit that they've been contributing to the dirty laundry. But, you have to. You have to be a grown-up and be honest. With yourself most of all. And if you can do that, then you're more than half-way there...

****Painting titled: Gratefully Coerced by Charles Gumpert.
I am in love with this man's paintings!!

submit to reddit

Saturday, January 24, 2009

They are 9 months and 28 days apart.

Honoring our children, how do we do that? To respect who they truly are is not always an easy task. Too often we get caught up in our own stuff. Our own projections of who we think they are, or who they should be. Celebrating who my children are individually is something that is important to me. I work hard at it, and I'm passionate about it.

They are, for 2 months of the year, the same numerical age. BOY was born in November of 2003, and GIRL in September of 2004. They are 9 months and 28 days apart. Although not twins, sometimes it feels as if they are but two sides of the same coin. True complements of each other, there is a constant learning element that is shared back and forth. Not a day passes that I don't say how blessed they are to have each other. (We adopted BOY at birth, and GIRL was the ultimate conception surprise!)

Yes, there are the blow-outs, the neanderthal SQUABBLES, but the time that is spent playing together is time that enables me to breathe and have bits and pieces for myself. Time, that valued commodity, to let them savor their joy in each other.

BOY will be starting Kindergarten in the fall. GIRL could start Kindergarten. She will turn 5 in September, and I have no doubt that she would do fine academically. However, because of the unusual situation that we have - with BOY & GIRL being just less than 10 months apart, it feels important to continue with them one year apart in school. BOY enjoys his role as her "big brother," and GIRL loves following him - albeit nipping at his heels, and sometimes darting out ahead.

Luckily, GIRL embraces the idea of doing the same Pre-K class in the fall that BOY is doing this year. For her, the idea of an all day Kindergarten is daunting. For BOY, (truthfully he doesn't even think about it and GIRL is planning 2 years out!), a full day Kindergarten will be just right. GIRL will have the practice of going to school 5 mornings next year, and then a full day when she gets to Kindergarten the fall of 2010.

The decision to keep them one grade apart in school is definitely weighted by what is good for the whole family. But, GIRL could also use that extra year to grow in confidence, and to learn how to use her words when she gets frustrated. Instead of dissolving, or using her fists.

I believe that I am honoring them, and their needs. I know that I will not always be able to do this. Honor them, each and every time. But, right this time and place, my gut instinct tells me it is the right decision. And so it is...

*** Painting titled: "Wisdom Follows" by Chuck Gumpert.

submit to reddit

Thursday, January 22, 2009

President Obama visits preschool

Before the inauguration...

BOY: Guess who came to school today?

JCK: Who?

BOY: Barack Obama

Giggles and smiles from GIRL, and BOY's parents.

BOY: Guys, I'm serious.

More smiles and laughter.


JCK: OK, BOY. Was Barack Obama there for snack?

BOY: Yes, he BROUGHT the snack.

JCK: Oh, really... What did he bring?

BOY: Cookies.


BOY: John McCain was there, too. Oh...he brought a very baaaad snack.

JCK: What did he bring?

BOY: Worms.


During the inauguration...

BOY: I liked seeing...WHAT was his name, Mommy?

JCK: President Bush.

BOY: Oh, yeah. I liked seeing President Bush fly away in his helicopter.


After the inauguration...

In the YMCA locker room...

BOY to a young girl: I voted for Barack Obama. Who did you vote for?

The young girl: I didn't vote, but my parents voted for John McCain.

BOY: But....he didn't win.


A heartfelt thank you to whoever nominated me for BlogHer of the week. I got a lovely email notification from Lisa Stone on Tuesday saying that they had chosen me. There are so many amazing writers throughout the BlogHer network! I was stunned and honored to be the one chosen for my piece on feminism and motherhood!

submit to reddit

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

So, she sinks back into the position of what is known in her circles as CRISS CROSS APPLESAUCE

When last seen, JCK was hellbent on tackling her 2009 resolution #1...getting fit. So determined was she, that she had participated in a spin class. JCK actually walked away from that class with a nod and a wink. A nod to herself for attempting something that she knew would cause residual tenderness betwixt her buttocks, yet a wink as her parting gesture to the class. You GO ON then, GIRLS and three men!!! Have at IT! JCK was on to other pastures.

A few days hence, we find JCK ensconced upon a yoga mat, her flattish fanny perched upon a welcoming yoga blanket. She sits in the semidarkness soaking up the silence. The class begins. Once again JCK gives a little SHOUT that she is new, so that if she appears to be making any unique moves perhaps the instructor can help her. (JCK has taken a smattering of yoga classes over the years, so although she is not a YOGI, she is perhaps more than a gogurt.) There is a slight wave of bodies jerking back upon their mats when JCK SHOUTS her little announcement. After all this is YOGA, and one must have respect for the TRANQUILITY found there. JCK gets this. She gets IT down to her gluteus maximus and beyond.

So, she sinks back into the position of what is known in her circles as CRISS CROSS APPLESAUCE. And the class begins... It goes smoothly. The soothing tones of the instructor, coupled with music that appears to both soothe and nourish JCK's inner being, gives her sustenance. And more... For as she lays on her back and lets one bent leg rest over the other she begins to feel something. Something so...almost....naughty? Yes, naughty! A feeling of warmth sliding up her body and a tingling sensation settling in around her...her... nether regions. Could it be? Could it BE? By, GOD, YES! YES!YES! ....AAAAAHHHH.....Namasté, indeed. JCK believes that she WILL be back...

***Sculpture titled: "Contemplation" by
Elaine Franz Witten

submit to reddit

Monday, January 19, 2009

But, I AM lifted up by what I can answer.

I find myself these last few days on a wave of euphoria and then shedding tears - all while watching the pre-inauguration goings on in Washington, D.C., and today celebrating the great Martin Luther King, Jr. This morning, CNN played his I HAVE A DREAM speech in it's 17 minute entirety. It was incredibly moving to hear the whole thing, and to visually see through images where our country was just over 40 years ago. You can feel the change that is coming. A movement that has come about because all of us made it happen. Inspiration in the form of another man. Tomorrow Barack Obama will become President of the United States of America. And I shall cry yet again.

Before turning on CNN this morning, I talked to BOY & GIRL about Martin Luther King, Jr. and how life was back in the 1960's. In very simple terms I tried to explain. Of all the things I said, they were most shocked by the idea of African Americans having to ride in the rear of the bus and having separate water fountains. GIRL's jaw literally dropped open, mouth agape. Stunned by what didn't even make sense to her. The beauty of this is that I could truly see in her eyes the incomprehension. As if I was talking gibberish.

But, why mommy? Why was it like that?

And, I had no answers for her.

But, I AM lifted up by what I can answer. By the images passing across our television screen, and the words of hope spoken. By the beauty of our country coming together as a community. To heal, and to make our country better. And somehow, I think that the optimism that we are clinging to, this feeling of WE CAN DO IT, cannot be far from one of Martin Luther King, Jr's dreams...

***Video courtesy of CNN -film clip: From MLK to Today by Antoine Fuqua.

submit to reddit

Sunday, January 18, 2009

GIRL's take on HEAVEN

GIRL: I think there's more than one HEAVEN. There's people Heaven. There's doggie Heaven. There's kitty Heaven. There's coyote Heaven. There's....

GIRL believes in an inclusive heaven for all animals...

*****Stairway to Heaven painting by Jim Warren.

submit to reddit

Saturday, January 17, 2009

The Boy with Two Dolls

The Boy with Two Dolls

He was a round cheeked child
soft of face and form
a mass of brown waves
covering the top of his head.

He carried two dolls
a boy and a girl,
clutched tightly in
his small hands.

It was show-and-tell
and what he wanted
was to share the two dolls
that he loved most.

His mother standing near
a hand resting gently
on his shoulder,
saying, this is my son.

She, honoring him
who he is
his very essence
so safe in her love.

***Note: The inspiration for this poem came from seeing a little boy and his mom this week at BOY & GIRL's school.

****"Iron Essence 2" Painting by Chuck Gumpert.

submit to reddit

Friday, January 16, 2009

A woman sitting alone with her bad news...

This week I've been all off...out-of-sync so to speak. A week of frantic movement, driving from one destination to the next, and returning home to see a mountain of clean clothes to be folded. A river of clothing overflowing basket and chair, mocking me. One item on a long list of other things not done.

I had committed to making a dinner for a woman who is very ill with a relapse of cancer. Her three year old daughter goes to my children's preschool. I rushed BOY & GIRL out of the house yesterday afternoon with just enough time to drop off the meal and get them to their swimming lesson. As I pulled into the woman's driveway, I saw her through her large kitchen window. She appeared to be sitting alone at the table. I turned off the ignition, irritated by BOY clamoring to "GET OUT AND SAY HI!!!!" I stepped out, closing the car door, instantly shutting out the noise within.

This is so kind of you, thank you! she called out.

I turned to see her, clearly weak, standing at the front door.

Oh, you are so welcome, it makes me feel good to do this, I said.

And it was true. I had volunteered to make the dinner because it gives me pleasure to help someone who needs help. And I know how amazing it is to have a cooked dinner delivered to your door. Yet, I had lost track of that feeling yesterday, in my own inner dialogue, a diatribe of "poor me."

We introduced ourselves.

I handed the sacks to her, throwing out words: that I had two children at the preschool, warming directions for the lasagna, something about not needing to worry about returning any containers.

Are you sure?

Oh, yes, I said.

I'd hug you, but I am not allowed to touch anyone right now. (Radiation treatment.)

Oh, that's OK, I said smiling, trying to reassure...

I had an overwhelming urge to take her in my arms and hold her close, letting her feel my strength.

There was the unmistakable sound of BOY shouting something from within the van.

That's my son, I said. He wanted to come out, too, and say hello.

She looked at me for a moment.

People ask me why I don't have any more children. I can't...


I got bad news today, she said.

What do you say? What can you say?

I'm sorry you got bad news today. Please know that you have so many people sending positive energy to you right now.

Thank you, she said.


Be well, I said.

I'll try, she said.

I walked down the steps and across the path to my car.

Drive safe!

I will, I said, opening the car door.

I got in the car and backed out of the driveway.

Oh, BOY & GIRL, we are SO blessed, I said.

Why are we blessed, mama?

Because, GIRL, that mommy is very sick.

I took a breath and let it out, feeling it leave my body...

I still see her silhouette at the dining room table. It is etched in my mind. A room with the lights off. Mother of a three year old little girl. A woman sitting alone with her bad news...

*** Sculpture Credit: titled, "Comforted" - from The Sculpture Gallery.

submit to reddit

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Is there anything more delicious than watching your daughter at her first dance recital?

She had a skirted purple leotard, pink tights and a red sparkly head band. We picked out the outfit together at TarJAY last weekend. For days...she had been bubbling over with excitement.

Mommy, I can't wait until my recital!


Daddy, I can't wait until my recital!

I know, GIRL, I can't wait either!


Mommy, I can't wait until my recital and Daddy can't wait, either!!

I have never seen her so excited. I picked her up early from preschool and she wanted to take a bath before getting into her dance attire. We arrived at the small community center where she takes her ballet classes. The room was packed with parents, grandparents, relatives and lots of little girls in pink, purple and green. On one wall was a backdrop of white gauze curtains with red bows. We met Daddy at the back of the room. He had brought her a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

When it was time for GIRL's class to begin, she rushed forward eager to start. All of them lined up in a straight line, sitting on the floor with heads bent over like closed flowers. Then the music began and they moved in a delightful mish mash of movements just a tad off from the dancer next to them.

Is there anything more delicious than watching your daughter at her first dance recital? I think NOT. Especially when you are standing on a chair filming it, with your husband standing on the chair next to you taking photos.

Just a couple ...watching their daughter, their hearts in their throat. Just a couple... who several years ago, were on the infertility roller coaster, were unsuccessful, and struggled with the idea that they might never have children. That couple? Total mush heads.

submit to reddit

Monday, January 12, 2009

If you have ever questioned where American feminism came out of, or why it came to be...

Being a stay-at-home mother and admitting a dissatisfaction with one's life in the all encompassing role of MOMMY is almost taboo in this country. Almost. There was a time when this subject was never talked about... A time when the only choice middle-class women had when they married and had children was to stay at home. There was not a question of loving it or hating it. It was just the way things were done. But, today we have that ability - to question our lives and the roles we play in it because of the groundbreaking women who came before us. It was 1963 when Betty Friedan's book, The Feminine Mystique, was published.

"The problem lay buried, unspoken, for many years in the minds of American women. It was a strange stirring, a sense of dissatisfaction, a yearning that women suffered in the middle of the twentieth century in the United States. Each suburban wife struggled with it alone. As she made the beds, shopped for groceries, matched slipcover material, ate peanut butter sandwiches with her children, chauffeured Cub Scouts and Brownies, lay beside her husband at night--she was afraid to ask even of herself the silent question--"Is this all?"***

Betty Friedan talked of women feeling trapped in their role as homemaker, and it was as if a casserole exploded across every kitchen in America. Today we are free to talk about this, to question it, but do we?

I like to think of myself as being candid with my close friends, openly expressing both my struggles and joys in being a mother. Yet, I find myself hesitating to discuss my own feelings of dissatisfaction, when I have them. Something holds me back. Shame? Worrying that I'll be seen as a complainer? I am not sure. So, it is easy to fall back into roles like "the harried mom" or "the exasperated mom," putting the onus on my children and what aggravating hi jinks they've been up to this week. But, that is not really what is at the core of the dissatisfaction.

Is this IT?


Is this all there is?

Where have I gone?

Who am I?

I don't recognize that person in the mirror? Oh...that's me. But, IS it?!

Today we have online communities, friends a keystroke away, whom we connect with intimately. Perhaps because it is easier to reveal our own perceived inadequacies and shame to someone who feels a distance. Yet, someone who appears open and listens to our inner heart.

Being a homemaker is a valuable role. One that is often overlooked and undervalued - hence increasing a sense of loneliness and isolation in women. It is a complicated subject, with no easy answers.

I feel very lucky that mothering feels like a natural fit to me. It is something that I wanted for many years, and now I have the privilege of being a mother to two children whom I love with a passion and depth I could never have imagined. I am blessed that I had the choice to be at home with them. It was what I wanted. What I felt was most important for our family. And I don't regret the decision. But, I felt lost for a while. There are many things about mothering that feel cloying and suppressive. As if... you are one step away from the nearest psychiatric facility, or jumping on the back of some one's motorcycle and riding away, without looking back... Often, when I hear a story on the news of another mother who went over the edge, I nod silently, take a deep breath and feel lucky that it isn't me. But, I can least to some of it.

It is the writing that has saved me. Opened me up to a creative well that I had only dreamed of, yet never truly attempted - other than my private journaling and an occasional writing class. The irony is that if I hadn't gone to that dark place and muddled about in my own despair, I'm not sure I would ever have started writing. I'll never know.

Last night I saw a film. It will stay with me for days. Women, not walk, to see Revolutionary Road. If you have ever questioned where American feminism came out of, or why it came to be...this film will turn you upside down. It is explosive, heart rending, and brutally honest. The performances are seamless. Kate Winslet is mesmerizing. Melissa Silverstein, from Women & Hollywood, writes: Revolutionary Road is a tough movie for a woman who grew up after the women’s movement of the 1970s to watch, but after watching it a couple of times I actually think that it should be required watching for all young women who think that feminism is irrelevant.

Seeing Revolutionary Road should have left me feeling depressed. But, it didn't. Instead I felt uplifted. And validated. Uplifted because we, as women, have more choices today. We. Can. Choose. Validated because being a mother is just a part of who I am. A big part. In the end, perhaps for me, the most important part. Yet...I am not only a mother, a wife, a homemaker. I am so much more...

***Quote from The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan - Opening paragraph, Chapter 1.

***"Fragmented Homemaker" painting by David M. Bowers

submit to reddit

Friday, January 9, 2009

He will get it in time...

If there was ever a life lesson that I keep learning about my son, it is this:

He will get it in time. In his own time. Finding his own path. He can be guided. But, truthfully, he is at heart an explorer. A creator. Someone who thinks outside the box. And suddenly, what has seemed so challenging and has been a struggle will just happen. It will seem dramatic. As if overnight. When in reality he has been parachuting down to earth, flying down, sometimes drifting off the path to the obvious landing strip - yet, always, always destined to navigate his own touchdown pattern.

I know this.
My gut tells me this. But, sometimes I doubt myself.

BOY wrote his name yesterday. Every letter. All by himself. Clearly. Beautifully imperfect. He will get it in his OWN time.

*********Photo courtesy of Google Images

submit to reddit

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

All was fine until JCK sat her ass upon the cycle seat.

JCK tries a cycle class…ahem…

There is nothing so delicious as the sheen of sweat upon one’s skin after exercising the body. Or so JCK thought...

JCK arrived to CYCLE class just after everyone had gotten on their cycles. She thought she could just slip in and grab a cycle in the back of the room. She got the last one, at the back. SCORE! All looked good until she noticed that the pedals had buckles on them, and that this might be a bit harder to set up than she had thought. JCK had the mistaken impression that she could just hop right on and all would be well. After all, hadn't she shown up? Resolution #1 hard at work here...

Meanwhile, the cycle instructor was making her way through the room, chatting with the regulars. JCK flagged her over and said that she was NEW to class and obviously needed help. The teacher gave a brief sigh and mentioned that it would helpful if, since she was new, JCK would come to class a few minutes before the class actually began so as to enable the teacher more time to assist. JCK thought this a reasonable request, but noted that the teacher looked like she had never snuck in the back of a workout class. Ever. The instructor adjusted JCK’s seat to the right height and distance from the handlebars. She buckled JCK’s feet to the pedals. A shackled JCK was READY to begin.

All was fine until JCK sat her ass upon the cycle seat. It was THEN that she realized her mistake. You see… JCK’s ass is rather flat and her tailbone low to the rear. Therefore, sitting on a bike seat, any bike seat, unless it is a special SUPER WIDE is excruciatingly uncomfortable. Now, a good part of the cycle class is raising yourself up off the seat and pedaling in a standing/upright position. Alas...the relief allowed upon raising herself to a standing position was short-lived due to the lack of endurance JCK had for severe burning in her legs. Going for the burn is all well and good, but determining which burn was worse – sitting on a seat that felt like someone was sticking a red hot poker between her legs –OR….standing and feeling like her legs were going to burn themselves down to stubs, and she would be flung pellmell over the handlebars, was a definite...draw.

The teacher had good music. JCK gave her credit for that. Which made it just less than outright torture. More like a root canal. Over the microphone said teacher would frequently utter encouraging phrases like…put your comfort level on a 1 to 10 scale with 10 being very hard and 1 being very easy. You don’t want to burn yourself out on 10, but if you’re at a level 1 you might need to question yourself. At this point, JCK was questioning why the HELL she had decided to take the cycle class in the first place.

JCK made it to the last song. Under cover of darkness and to the tune of BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATERS...which seemed, somehow, soooo... apropos, she slipped out of the exercise room. Most probably never to return...

JCK did spend the rest of the day with a bit of a swagger to her step. After all, she DID show up. And, she endured. But, spinning class....well, JCK thinks it best to punt, and show up for something else. After going through childbirth, S&M just doesn't hold much...sway.

*****Photo most decidedly NOT JCK. Much thanks to Google Images.

submit to reddit

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

The kids started back to preschool yesterday, and I'm not sure who had the biggest smile on their face...

It's the beginning of January - always a time to focus on New Year's Resolutions. And where am I? I'm getting there. I've gotten my workout clothes out for tomorrow. Truth be told. They were hard to get to... I had to move boxes around. But, there they were in neat piles...waiting. And I'm trying to get a monthly schedule together of making writing submissions.

The kids started back to preschool yesterday, and I'm not sure who had the biggest smile on their face... I was very ready to get into our routine again. So, now we're back in the swing of preschool, swimming lessons and playdates.

Oprah's doing a series of shows this week called: Best Life Week. Each day focuses on how we can take better care of ourselves. Tomorrow, Wednesday the 7th, is a show on "Finding your Spiritual Path." Our Rector, Ed Bacon from All Saints Church in Pasadena, is one of Oprah's 3 guests on the show. (Ed was also on her Soul Series radio program.) It will be fun to see Ed on the show. He is very special.

As I begin to write 2009 here and there, I am so conscious of the passage of time and how I want to have accomplished some goals by this time next year. Baby steps lead to giant steps with many stumbles in-between...

*****Photo of Trader Joe's Rose Bowl Parade Float

submit to reddit

Monday, January 5, 2009

Seeing the Roses Parade floats up close

On Saturday we took a tour of the Tournament of Roses Parade Floats. It's a wonderful opportunity to look at the floats up close at your own leisure. The artistry that goes into each float is phenomenal. Every kind of natural material is used. From flower petals to tree trunks to ... Here is a close-up of different flower petals squared off with black beans.
The fox below is made with the fuzzy part of palm trees.

Here are the spooky trees from the Wizard of Oz float.

For you Sesame Street fans...
And of course, Oscar the Grouch...

One of my favorites...the white egret. Reminds me of the Gulf of Mexico...

And WHICH float got an "AMAZING" from BOY, you ask? Well, you'd think THIS was it,

Nor, was it this...although, it was "COOL."
The "Isn't that AMAZING!!!?" was in reference to THIS going on, just over the fence...

If you ever have a chance to view the Rose Bowl parade floats, you will find them truly AMAZING. I promise.

submit to reddit

Saturday, January 3, 2009

New Year Bon Mots from BOY & GIRL

BOY: Mom, can I watch a program?

JCK: No, BOY. You've already watched enough TV this morning.

BOY: Dad, can I watch Noggin?

E: No, BOY.

BOY goes into the playroom and flops on the floor with an exaggerated sigh...

BOY: What is UP with my parents!?


JCK: GIRL, I'm starting the bath.

GIRL: Oh, Mommy...Princess GIRL is not ready for a bath. Can't Princess GIRL play?

JCK: OK, Princess GIRL has 10 minutes.

GIRL: Yeah!


BOY: Mom, we're going to Africa. And I'm really going to miss you.

JCK: Oh, no. I can't let you go to Africa by yourselves.

BOY: Why not, Mom?

JCK: I'd miss you too much.

GIRL: Mom... *SIGH* We're JUST going to Africa to have dinner with our grandparents. We'll be back in the morning.

JCK: Oh, I guess that's OK.

At the dinner table while everyone else is getting up:

BOY: That is NOT the END of the conversation.



Driving through Pasadena as the crews are dismantling the bleachers from the Rose Bowl Parade...

BOY: Mom! I saw more BUNKERS! I saw more BUNKERS!

JCK: Bleachers, BOY. Bleachers.


GIRL: Has anyone seen my wand?

E: Has anyone seen Princess GIRL's wand?

Princess GIRL: And GIRL can't remember where she put it.

GIRL: Mommy! Scrub a dub dub, Fashion in the tub!

GIRL referring to her new bath tub paper dolls. (They're so cool!)


GIRL waiting in line with JCK at Trader Joe's.....

Lady: How old are YOU?



GIRL: Yes.


During dinner at a diner ........

BOY: Look, Dad! That MAN is having a BABY!

E: BOY, we don't point and talk about other people.

BOY: Look at his BIG stomach!

E: BOY, quiet.

BOY: He's having a BABY.

E: No, BOY. Men don't have babies.

BOY: Some men do.

GIRL watching her mom walk across the restaurant and commenting upon her mom's return...

GIRL: You have a BIG bottom, Mommy. *GIGGLE*GIGGLE*

JCK: Do I?

GIRL: Yes, but fanny is a nicer word.


JCK to E: GIRL told me I had a big bottom.

JCK: Well, curving up and out, yes. Going wide...NO.

Photo of pink camellias picked from our back yard. January in Southern California.

submit to reddit
Copyright © 2007-2014 JCK.

The content on these pages is the sole property of the author and may not be used or reproduced in any manner without consent.

All Rights Reserved.