Two hours until blast off.

It's been decided...I will NOT be going to Maine this time. The kids will go and enjoy some quality grandparenting. I will enjoy some quality yard sailing, library book sailing and lunch(ish) with a friend and her very cute tot.

Oh, and maybe some embroidery too...because look - I've been teaching myself...



I figured I'd start with bookmarks because 1. I'm not into those country cross stitch type of things and that's the only pattern books I could find at my library without doing a search and order from other libraries and 2. They're quick. The daisy bookmark only took an hour because I had no idea how to do either the lasy daisy or that cross knot stitch before I started it.

I stitch witch some lengths of ribbon to the back to cover the stitching and make it less bendy.

This one, however, took a few nights - what with the counting stitches and stuff.

I couldn't resist this one. I saw it online a year or so ago and it's been kicking around the bookmarked sites for awhile, just begging to be made. My husband was all horrified "What if the kids see??". I'm thinking, that's exactly who SHOULD see it. But of course they won't and I will continue the never ending cycle of dive watching, popsicle wrapper cutting and water balloon making. But it will make me smile anyway. And I can hold it up for my husband to see after the umpteenth interruption of "Did you see that *insert Red Sox play here*?"


My girl has a fly phobia. She goes ballistic if there's one around. She can't concentrate and it takes all of her might to sit still. There was one in the house the other day (you would think the correlation of open door = fly welcome mat would be some actual incentive to SHUT THE DOOR, but no.) and this is how she ate her breakfast. I didn't tell her that the fly could actually fit through those holes. Why take all the fun out of it?

Maybe I should get one of those poison food tester people too

My parents have just, in the past month or so, decided that they’d like to spend some actual time with the kids. This is kind of new for me, as they are not the type of grandparents volunteering to babysit/take them to a movie/attend any sporting events or even visit with us to just hang out and watch the kids in the lake or something.

Lately there’s been an offer or two for ice cream and when the husband went up to Maine, they must’ve told me a gagillion times just how enjoyable those two little cretins were. And how they were welcome to come up with them sometime.

I sort of brushed it off because, my son is TEN and what’s with the turning over a new leaf thing? Anyhow. My mom called and invited them. They’re supposed to leave Friday evening and will be back by Sunday night. A mere 48 hours.

I am finding, however, that I cannot find an apron with strings like those extenda-dog leashes. I am sort of beside myself with worry about them. For whatever reason if they’re going to Maine with my husband I’m fairly okay (i.e. cannot sleep or truly relax until they arrive in Maine) but for some reason with my parents – aye, yi,yi – I cannot tone down the control freak in me. I jokingly refer to it as Air Force One syndrome. But not in a funny ha-ha way. More in a neurotic, I’ll have an ulcer by Sunday way. Both my kids in one car, without us, heading away.

I'm sort of quiet about my craziness so my husband and kids don't think I'm a complete loon but here, here I can just ramble on. So my husband, unaware of my issues suggested that we go to Maine too. We have no plans, none and it's supposed to be a beautiful weekend and we could tent and bring the dog and have a campfire or seven and just hang out. I would LOVE to say yes but I don't want my parents thinking that we're honing in on their grandparenting time. That I don't, you know, trust them. Which I do trust them. It's the crazies on the highway driving ninety on the Maine Pike that make me nervous.

Phew. I feel better. Not that I've reached any sort of decision but at least the thoughts are ping-ponging around in my head anymore.

In a Word plus some Answers

A meme. Borrowed from Babelbabe.

1. Where is your mobile phone? Car.
2. Relationship? Denial.
3. Your hair? Wet.
4. Work? Busy.
5. Your sister(s)? Step.
6. Your favourite thing? Books.
7. Your dream last night? Camping.
8. Your favourite drink? Dietcoke.
9. Your dream car? MG.
10. The room you're in? Bed.
11. Your shoes? Sneakers.
12. Your fears? Spiders.
13. What do you want to be in 10 years? Here.
14. Who did you hang out with this weekend? Family.
15. What are you not good at? Organization.
16. Muffin? MorningGlory.
17. Wish list item? Blender.
18. Where you grew up? Connecticut.
19. The last thing you did? Birdfeeders.
20. What are you wearing? Hat.
21. What are you not wearing? Earrings.
22. Your pet? Panting.
23. Your computer? Slow.
24. Your life? Decent.
25. Your mood? Content.
26. Missing? Dad.
27. What are you thinking about? Thunder.
28. Your car? Dirty.
29. Your kitchen? Clean.
30. Your summer? Lake.
31. Your favourite colour? Green.
32. Last time you laughed? Friday.
33. Last time you cried? Weeks.
34. School? Done.
35. Love? Wishful.

And...

Talk about anticlimactic. The boy goes in for the root canals, the Endo takes xrays and tells us that the teeth are still viable and growing and that he should return in six months. The actual canal will get smaller as he ages and the roots of his teeth will thicken, making the teeth stronger in the long run.

So that was good.

The book I'm reading? Or actually re-reading is I Know This Much is True by Wally Lamb. It's the book club choice for next month and while normally I do NOT reread (with the exception of Harry Potter) I find I'm not minding this. I read it years ago, when it was first released and the story takes place in my hometown so there are a ton of little details I'm enjoying.

And awhile back someone asked how my son weaned himself off of the computer and video games. The answer is two-fold. A. A moratorium on any new video game purchases after about Feb/March. If he gets them as birthday gifts, fine but I don't buy anything new when I know the weather will be turning. Why encourage him?

and B. The weather. We live New England where the weather is uncooperative and not enjoyable for quite a few months out of the year. I mean, we all like sledding and skating but we don't tend to eat dinner outside and mow the lawn and explore the woods when it's twenty six degrees and raining. My kids end up with a horrible case of spring/summer fever when all is said and done and it usually results in my daughter swimming in the pond on the first hottish day in April and my boy catching salamanders and nightcrawlers and begging for baseball games.

I have a knot in my stomach as today is the day of the first root canal.

Naturally, it's perfectly sunny and warm and there is no place I'd rather LESS be than in the city, waiting to see if my son freaks out in the endodontist's chair. That being said, the drive to and from will actually take longer than the procedure and it's not until this afternoon.

So, I'm off - with our breakfast, to the pond. The boy had a friend sleep over and they're fishing right now. I've got a 850 page book to read for book club and a lawn chair with my name on it.

Day Two

oh, no. not that day two. just day two of summer vacation, which is almost as bad - but not really.

Last Saturday was IT. The last day of sports related obligations for the year summer next six weeks. But look at that throw in thing the girlie's doing on that ohsowell manicured soccer field. There were like 48 million honey bees in these huge patches of clover - kids were freaking out all over the place. And look! Look at those super attentive boys just waiting to make the play. U6 Soccer is as exciting as watching paint dry but seriously - it's adorable.

And then we went out to dinner here and that was our view from the rooftop deck. Lobster rolls, clam rolls and sunshine. Sublime. If I ever say that I want to move to some place more than thirty minutes from the ocean stage an intervention.
I can just see, in this picture, a glimpse of the young man he's going to be.


And Sunday, Father's Day...yawn. The husband went fishing for twelve hours, in the sun on the ocean. He caught two fish and a bit of a buzz and with entirely too much striped bass we hosted an impromptu cookout for my family. Not pictures of the fish or the sunburned husband...

But I will throw in a picture from Burial Hill because, well, why not? We went back to the seaside town yesterday for some letterboxing and because I wove in some errands with the fun the day was pretty much complaint free and with the exception of the CLOSED best slush place on earth - it was all good.

Plus I let the girlie take some pictures. She seemed to gravitate towards sepia.
An oceanfront playground for Jen. As she will be seeing alot of this place in a few months.

A church for Blackbird.

The brother with his newly purchased camera. I love this lawn mowing gig he's got.

And some gratuitous motherly pride:






Flag Day from Jenny on Vimeo

Some of those parents would call them 'teachable moments' or any assortment of treacly crap.

His former hockey coach would say 'Suck it up, Buttercup'.


They both apply.

We went to the dentist yesterday, even though he swore - as he got off the bus - that his teeth did NOT bother him. They're fine, FINE Mom. Now can I go play baseball?

Of course the dentist didn't have office hours in the nearby office - we had to travel. And be the last appointment of the day (i.e. 45 minute wait time) but such is life. He gets into the chair, the dentist squirts some air on the tooth to dry it out and whammo - the boy goes all snakelike. He was squirming and fighting and then he ripped the cotton thing out of his mouth and sat straight up. The dentist, who specializes in pediatrics but apparently has the patience of a gnat, stepped back and said he was done.

There is no doubt it hurt. None. I have to say, though, I was a little surprised at how snippy the dentist got with us, mostly the son, but I could tell he was judging me based on the boy's minor fit. Whatever, judge away, dentist man. I know my boy has precisely zero pain tolerance - I used to have to pull splinters out while he was asleep because he would kick and flail if I tried any other time. And ripping a bandaid off? You'd have thought I was doing a skin graft.

I do take some responsibility for said wimpiness...over the years, because he used to go so hog wild, I've let him handle things himself a bit more - his usual course of action is ignore, ignore, ignore. And foolishly, I didn't mess with it. But sometimes I'd see him with the tweezers, trying to get at a splinter or something and I'd think there was some light at the end of the tunnel.

Anyway, the boy refused to lay back down and the dentist didn't even try to cajole him. We were told to get into the root canal guy as soon as we could and that the next week will be a world of hurt every time the kid tries to eat something that isn't pretty much room temperature. Never mind if he bangs his tooth and totally exposed nerve on something.

So we left the office and the boy started to cry. I hugged him and told him that he had his chance and made his choice and now has to live with his decision. The entire ride home and all of last night he was kicking himself for not getting it done. The husband and I were the very picture of calm, rational people while we gave him a straw for his drink and cut his lukewarm hotdog into bits. We explained how the short time of kind of intense pain is far less to deal with than one week of drawn out, intermittent but intense pain.

He's completely bummed as today is the last day of school and they're having popsicles (too cold!) and a fiesta in Spanish class with his favorite, tacos (too hot! too crunchy!). I am bummed for him. And this next thing might make me a fairly horrible person - I'll admit that I'm also secretly semi-pleased and totally wondering if this is finally the thing that will make him realize that he does in fact just have to suck it up. Buttercup.

Flag Day

We hope you have enjoyed our flag day presentation and we hope we have taught you a little about the flag of our country.

That's it. The girlie's big stage debut. Today is the big kindergarten flag day celebration - the preparations have been going on for weeks. God Bless America has been burned into my brain. Or one verse of it has, anyway.

My girl is beside herself with flag day giddiness and has dressed herself up especially for the day. A red flag shirt, white shorts with red and blue stars, two red white and blue homemade bead bracelets and a red white and blue headband. She is beyond proud of it and it doesn't look that bad...so who am I to argue?

The boy is unable to bite into any food at all with his front two teeth. He tried bread and butter last night and judging by his reaction - the pain/heebee jeebee feeling must've shot through his mouth. Just before he left for school this morning he admitted that it was 'uncomfortable' and could I make him a lunch he could tear or break into little pieces so he could place it in his mouth, well past those front teeth, and chew with his molars? Poor kid.

3:30 Arrive home to find the messy kitchen that I left and nervous boy on couch.

3:37 Look in boy's mouth to find that the sealant stuff is completely missing. Hello nerve.

3:37:10 Kick self for second guessing and not acting on intuition.

3:38 Call nitrous oxide endodontist - lucky guy - he's on freakin' vacation until next week. On call replacement doesn't use gas. Hate the on call replacement.

3:45 Call dentist. Where I am put on hold. For far too long.

4:13 Hang up. And continue to wait for the dentist to return my call.

4:14 Hug son as stress is eating him up. As if we all don't know the anticipation of pain is usually far worse than the pain itself.

4:25 Reconsider the make your own sundae thing I planned for Friday. Ice cream on a nerve? Probably not a wise choice.

4:55 Wonder how we're going to pay for all of this.

The Day So Far

7:30 a.m. wake up. Bus comes at 7:25.

Pack for a field trip to a beachy/lake place.

It's fifty eight degrees and looks like rain.

7:45 a.m. drive across town, in pajamas so the boy won't miss the trip.

8:24 a.m. Phone call from his school. Which I think is the autocall thing telling us the trip was postponed. I'm in the middle of giving the girlie a bath.

8:30 a.m. Called dentist's office to cancel the boy's appointment for sealants that was to take place later this morning. Had to wait until today because the weather forecast was so iffy for the field trip.

8:35 a.m. Checked voice mail. Surprise it's his teacher. He broke a front tooth. Again!

8:36 a.m. Hang head and wonder if the 8:30 line item would be example of irony. Never sure about that one.

8:38 a.m. Leave message for teacher. As they're already on their way.

8:48 a.m. Report from teacher - he's nervous, not in pain and then I tell her what to look for - to see if the nerve is exposed. She's in her car and will have him call me.

9:09 a.m. Boy calls, no pain - silly accident. What broke was just a part of the sealants that ar covering the formerly exposed nerves. Tell boy to steer clear of popsicles and swimming.

9:14 a.m. Second guess my decision not to go pick him up or at the very least check his teeth.

9:26 a.m. Still second guessing.

9:27 a.m. Must leave for work.

Finding the Loopholes in Child Labor Laws

Amy has posted about this a few times and seeing that I am always ready to give up some sort of chore I thought we'd give it a go.

Once a week, during the summer (and beyond if life doesn't interfere) the chillins will be responsible for planning and cooking a dinner. Nothing too fancy and it's got to be something we like or at the very least be willing to try.

The kids were beside themselves, checking out cookbooks and discussing options - and almost as importantly - not bickering. It was decided that the first time would be a trial run and that homemade pizzas and a salad would be the menu. Well, mostly english muffin pizzas but seeing as I can not stand them, the boy made me a regular crust. The girlie made a salad with rice wine vinegar dressing and far too many tomatoes.

Both were voted as the best salad and pizza consumed in many a months. The boy, as usual, has grand ambitions We'll cook everything for an entire day - breakfast and lunch AND dinner. I know better... his grand ambitions usually end up like the guinea pig or the night crawler business - a chore... and he has been the bonafide genetic recipient of my chore hating gene. You reap what you sow and all of that.

And because we're nice folks we "let" them wash the cars. We're good like that.

So I was suckered into one of those hostess parties. One of those, come on over for a sampling of snacks and some cocktails while you buy stuff and I get some free dip mix parties. I’ve only hosted one other party like this in my life and it was an open house for a local lady that makes her own scrumptious soaps and bath products and that was like ten years ago – which is neither here nor there and now I’m just blabbering. Anyway…with this party you receive a kit to make most of the dips that are served, a bread and a pound cake. Nothing is difficult, but naturally, being prone to shirking all commitments – I totally regretted the decision to hostess.

Fast forward to the Tuesday evening before the party. I’m checking my kit because if I’m not just prone to shirking commitments – I also am a complete misplacer of items. A loser, for lack of a better word. I leave the mixes on the loveseat, on top of my knitting bag, which they promptly slide behind. Eh, whatever, I think – everything’s there, I’ll food shop tomorrow after work and whip up the stuff while the husband plays hockey. It’s the Eh, Whatevers I should watch out for. Every time I think that I should just stop and do just the opposite of Eh, Whatever. Like maybe picking up the bag of mixes and putting them away.

My son comes home from school on Wednesday and calls me.

“There’s white powder all over the living room floor!!”, he says.

Me: ??? Mind racing, What did I leave out?? Flour? Nope. Sugar? Nope. Baby Powder…would the dog eat powder? Nope. Six kilos of fine Columbian cocaine? Hmmm. (As if I’m not kidding).

So I ask if there’s anything else…

“Well”, he says…”your party stuff…”



The dog was apparently unable to resist the beer bread, almond pound cake, garlic, chipolte and onion dips and the key lime cheese cake mix. He destroyed the bags they were in, spread them all over the carpet and licked them until they made a flour like paste that adhered itself to my rug upon drying. Which, then I absent mindedly wet down with rug cleaner because I couldn’t scrape it up. So it was a poison filled paste that had to be shampooed up immediately because as soon as the dog came in the house he’d be licking that mix up until the carpet wore away.

The lady clearly didn’t think I was telling the truth until I jokingly showed her these. The evidence.

When will I learn?

On the Other Hand

While the next two weeks will be crazy busy - it is only two weeks. Then school. is. out.

Rainy Monday is looking like it will turn into Sunny Tuesday.

Both of my kids got much needed haircuts. No more scruffy vagabond look for them.

One last week of Daisy Scouts. And Lacrosse.

My boy is has basically weaned himself off the computer and hasn't played more than an hour or so of any video games in the past two weeks.

And again with the Sunny Tuesday.

The Events Conspiring to Bum Me Out

Rainy Monday.

Nothing of interest happening here.

Mother in Law's birthday today, husband and I have no idea what to give her.

The Sox blew it last night.

These last two weeks of school are shaping up to be the busiest two weeks of the year.

Another coach's wife told me to be careful who I trust this year as there are too many parents with ulterior motives.

Rainy Monday.

Saturday

Well, needless to say - it didn't rain. And it didn't rain yesterday either. So. Still behind on the laundry and vacuuming. It's hard to do crummy old housework when you could be reading outside or watching the kids swim or bike riding at the park or picnicking in the yard.

Plus the girlie and I learned how to finger knit and look...

she made herself a belt. And a bracelet for her teacher. And some long chains for godknowswhat. There's a little knitting group that meets at the library and she wanted to go in the worst way. She was beaming when we walked in and then, to be able to teach her skill to a 12 year old and the knitting guru lady? Over the moon.

Yesterday a bunch of the boy's friends that didn't attend the four day long field trip played hooky and one of them had a small pool party in the morning. Which was all good.

We're fairly good friends with the family and the mom oh so graciously invited the girlie to stay (as she is in afternoon kindergarten and the mom had invited me to stay too) - she was invited to play whiffle ball and pickle in the pool. One of the guys. She is probably half in love with two or three of them by now. One of the boys and yet, soooo much a girl.

We've always had a lady slipper or three growing either in our yard or on the path to the pond. This year there's probably twenty of them. Not sure why I'm telling you all, but that is the whole point of this blog thing, right?

Today I am off to the grocery store, soccer, liquor store, strawberry picking (eh, maybe) and a cookout. It is sunny and I'm not folding clothes. To hell with it.