apparently that's not all i left at home...

i did the stoopidest thing this morning. as planned with Alex's mother, i dropped razi off at school and then went to pick up Alex for a play date with zora. i was in such a rush i put lilah's coat on over her dirty diaper and pyjamas, and carried her through the snow so i wouldn't have to bother with shoes.

so i get to Alex's place and no one answers the door. i ring, i knock, i wait, i try again, ... complete silence. so i go to call and, remember that big hurry? apparently i left my bag and my cell at home. we drove all the way back to the house (it's only a mile and a half) and i leave the girls in the car (at zora's express request) while i run in to get my bag and the synagogue directory in case i don't have the right number in my phone. i call their house from my driveway and no one answers, it gets forwarded to voice mail. so i leave a message. now i'm really freaked out. is the sitter in a coma on the floor? what is going on?

i call Alex's mother at work (so glad i grabbed the phone directory!) and she thinks maybe the sitter was putting Alex's little sister down for a nap and Alex didn't want to come to the door for some reason. she says she will call the sitter's cell phone and let her know i am coming back. as for the phone, she now realizes she must not have turned the ringer back on last night after she accidentally shut it off. oh, whew!

so i drive back on snow and ice and park in the driveway again and go to the door again and... wait a minute... this isn't the porch i was on ten minutes ago. i look around and recognize a decoration hanging on an outside wall. next door. the last time i was here, i rang the neighbor's doorbell. oops. so once i figured that all out i rang Alex's doorbell and their dog goes nuts inside. oh. right. i didn't hear a dog last time. now i feel REALLY stoopid.

anyway, this time the sitter opens the door right away and says that the ringer was indeed off on the phone, which is why she didn't answer when i called. so i get Alex in my car and all is well.

and they're closing school early because the snow is coming down like gangbusters. i've decided i'll take Alex home at about 1:30 and then go get razi, whose school is going to let out at 2 instead of 3:10. and i don't have to worry about lilah's bus reorganization getting messed up, because this means no afternoon preschool.

so it all worked out fine in the end.

mornings are for the birds.

sometimes my husband works late. very late.

last night, he didn't come to bed till 5am. he snored like a chainsaw. he hasn't been doing that much lately and i'm not used to it anymore. i asked him to get up and put on a nosestrip. it didn't help. after half an hour i gave up, took my pillow and went to sleep on the couch. it was lousy, but i managed to fall asleep, unlike in my bed. razi woke me at 7:50, which was 20 minutes later than i'd intended to wake. i'd been having a dream that razi had completely destroyed the bathroom, water everywhere, huge, ugly, decorative stickers (that spouse and i had intended to do something completely different with) all over every wall... i was glad to see the real razi.

i stumbled upstairs and was seriously (and probably unreasonably) annoyed at my spouse. it did not help that he thought i'd simply woken up early and gone downstairs to be awake, the jerk! stumbled through my morning. razi started to complain of a headache but said he wouldn't take medicine. he pretty much never does, so i didn't expect him to agree to it. i just said if he was well enough to go without motrin he was well enough to go to school. but his father insisted on trying to get razi to swallow a pill. that went ever so well. not.

some vomit and a new pair of pants later (and why did i have to grab the pants out of the laundry? i was sure he had plenty of clean laundry in his dresser! how many pairs of pants does the little blighter wear in a day?) his father finally gave up on getting razi to swallow a pill.

oddly enough, i didn't get the girls to school late. that never happens.

how not to enjoy a gift

someone (many someones?) gave lilah a TON of gifts at one or both of her schools today. in addition to a candy cane in a little felt "mitten," and a lovely hanukah card, she got a bunch of care bears stuff: an actual purple care bear, a care bears ball, a packet of care bears stickers, a care bears book.... i think her teacher was very generous. most of the things weren't exactly signed.

so she wants to play with the ball with her sister. only she doesn't want zora to touch the ball. because the ball is MINE!!!!!!!!!! she doesn't seem too keen on letting go of that little bear, either.

this interspersed with squeals of joy and the refrain of "oh my darling..." over and over from the song "Clementine."

have i ever mentioned before that my children are from mars?

i need pictures of musical notes...

so lilah is singing and playing air guitar. on a toy godzilla.
"apple juice in a mug!! godZILLA!"

Apple Juice and Devious Plans.

Conversation I had with my spouse recently:

Me: “So. Your devious plan worked perfectly.”
Spouse: “Uh…” Blank look. “Devious plan?”
Me: “Yeah, you know. The one where you left the large open cup of apple juice perched at the edge of the shelf, where it would fall at the slightest provocation. Then, when it did fall, I’d be forced to clean the inside of the refrigerator. That devious plan.”
Spouse: “I’m so sorry. I was actually trying to prevent Lilah from knocking that cup over. I was trying to prevent a mess! What happened?”
Me: “Lilah wanted a hot dog.”

so razi and lilah both have a half day of school today. oh JOY. not. and this means i have to bring lilah to razi's parent/teacher conference. even better. they've closed all the elementary schools in the whole town for two afternoons in a row to schedule parent/teacher conferences. do other school districts do it this way, i wonder? this can't be a happy thing for parents with ordinary jobs.

at least lilah's preschool can keep her tomorrow afternoon even though they can't keep her extra today.

so anyway, i got home from bringing all my beasts to their schools, and as i was parking on the street well past the mailbox (so the postal carrier will deliver my mail. they won't get out of the truck unless they have a box they can't fit in there) two middle-aged men in suits and carrying briefcases walked up to my front door and rang my bell.

i wasn't excited about dealing with insurance salesmen or whatever, but i didn't want to stand there and wait for them to leave or go for a little walk or anything, so i stood next to my mailbox and called out "can i help you?"

turns out they were from some church. i cut them off very quickly with "thank you, but we have a congregation."

i have no idea what sparked it, but the one who responded sounded perfectly gobsmacked as he said, "you do?"

uhh, yeah. and we're deeply involved with it, you unpleasant man. what freaked you out? the fact that i'm wearing pants?

i don't think he got a look at my bumper stickers, because that would have actually made some sense. i've got a pro-gay marriage one, a "non-judgment day is near" and one that says "question gender" to name some of the less door-to-door-christian looking ones. but since i'm almost 100% certain he didn't see those, i'm stumped. i'm a 39 year old white chick in modest and ordinary cold-weather clothes with long dark hair who drives a minivan and lives in a suburban nightmare of a neighborhood. What’s unchristian looking here?

we have some pumpkins in the driveway. maybe that's it. some christians around here get very upset by halloween, and actually a lot of jews don't celebrate it either (because it is secular/pagan, not because it is "of the devil"). feh. i don't know. but it really got my goat.

her inflection was perfect...

I had a great conversation with Lilah this morning. I got her dressed in my bedroom and then headed downstairs. She lingered upstairs. I was making lunches when I heard her calling me:
"Ima! Ima! Escue me!"
“Yes, Lilah?”
“I dress!”
(This either means “I am dressed” or “I am wearing a dress.” I don’t actually know.)
“I know you are, kitten, I dressed you myself.”
Pause…
“Oh. Sorry, Ima!”

nachas

happiness is...

hearing my three children spontaneously break into the prayers, in perfect hebrew, for both bread and wine.

so what if they are singing them over chocolate ice cream.

Free time begins today.

so lilah is in public school. as in, i brought her and left here there and that's where she is right now! omg! and we had rather an adventure with registration.

on friday afternoon i found out i would need a birth certificate and shot record to enroll her. i wrote the info on a post-it, stuck it to today on the family calendar, and promptly forgot all about that.

then this morning i thought to look at the post-it. i found her shot record easily, but not the birth certificate.

thought it might be at the bank. remembered that i need to get some paperwork to the hoosier healthwise people to keep the kids enrolled in their health insurance. got the papers i needed for that. started to drive to the bank. realized i might have the birth certificate in my filing cabinet at home but was dumb enough not to look. turned around, drove home, left lilah in the minivan (door open, looking down on her from window while i went through the files) for about 8 minutes while i determined that no, i didn't have the birth certificate in there.

partway to the bank i wondered if maybe the hoosier healthwise people had a copy of the birth certificate. headed there. dropped off paperwork and asked for a copy of the birth certificate.

woman at front desk was thoroughly annoying. the case worker can't drop everything and go searching for something like that, she needs 24 hours notice and a letter requesting an appointment. spent next ten or twenty minutes pondering the rude shock said case worker would get if she were suddenly forced to work in the private sector.

wanted to stop at bank but realized lilah would be really late to her first day of school if i went there at that point.

drove to the school, dealt with spectacular tantrum when i took back her brother's hockey gloves (they are for his sword fighting club and i did NOT want them lost or damaged), brought lilah to her classroom where she promptly forgot all about the gloves and her terrible mood because omg COOL STUFF!!!, learned the woman who runs the program was in the hall and booked it to grab my own copy of her IEP, filled out a ton of enrollment paperwork (got a cramp in my wrist there was so much), pondered how many fewer phone numbers there would be on said paperwork if my cell phone didn't have them all memorized, and had embarrassing conversation about why i didn't have the birth certificate right then.

drove to bank to check the safety deposit box and, lo and behold, there was her birth certificate along with those of everyone else in the entire family. thought about banging my head against a wall in frustration at my own stupid self for not going to the bank first or even second, like i'd planned.

anyway, i have the copy now. and i leave to fetch little people in 25 minutes.

mars

my insane children are "cleaning" their bathroom. you see, razi dared to tell me, on the way home from school no less, that my ideas about what to do when we got home were "boring." i angrily told him that if he was bored he could clean the bathroom and zora turned that into the funnest idea of what to do, ever.

that child is from mars.

i can only hope they don't do anything purely revolting with the toilet scrubber or the toothbrushes or something like that, but i can't supervise, i just can't. i suppose this means i'm a wuss.

i can, however, go up and check on them occasionally. so, what does this "cleaning" mean? water all over the floor. every single washcloth soaked and dubious. zora covered with soap. razi running around in his underwear. me wanting to send them all back to school.

sigh.

preparing for school

this morning the kids saw a pile of backpacks that their father had set aside to check out. i have decided that two are going to charity but one will now be zora's new school pack. they got all excited about how they will start back to school soon, so this has become backpack morning.

lilah was wearing the old "Dora the Explorer" backpack i bought for her brother when he turned three (over four years ago. it's holding up well.) razi had me fill his brand new pack full of the school supplies i bought for him and zora has been stuffing her new pack with so many books and toys that she probably won't be able to carry it.

razi is still wearing his new pack on his back. he doesn't start school for two days. i wonder when he will decide to take it off. ;)

ahh, i was wrong. she CAN carry it. on the other hand, she's unbalanced!

hot stuff

i learned something tonight. if you cut up a hot pepper for your sandwich, you will want to wash your hands with soap before you touch your eye. yes, even an hour later.

cat love

me, holding the wacko cat. "isn't she pretty? (in cat-baby voice while scritching cat's head) she's such a pretty widdle lunatic, yes she is. (in my own voice) don't you think she's pretty, honey?"
spouse. "yes. she'd make a lovely hat."

i month and 1 day till public school starts again.

i officially hate summer. the kids are often bored, the heat takes a lot out of me, and everyone else i know can afford to send their kids to expensive day camps all summer long. (all right, that's a lie, it's much closer to a quarter than all.)

i finally fired lilah's speech therapist. i'd been resigned to just suffering through eight more weeks of chronic lateness and mediocre quality speech therapy, but i was kvetching to a friend about the ST and she told me to fire her. at first i was surprised and unwilling, but less than ten minutes later, she'd convinced me. it turned out to be remarkably easy. i called the first steps coordinator, told her what i wanted and why, she told me how to find the resumes of the available providers on the web, and i picked someone who (runs? works at?) the local university's speech and hearing clinic. i am hopeful that she will not only help lilah improve over eight weeks of therapy, but that she can help me navigate the scene of transition and what comes next. i am worried that lilah won't get into public school. if she doesn't, i have a huge array of choices to wade through. heck, even if she DOES get in i have choices to wade through. either way, i am going to want some guidance.

talking about dieting is boring as all get out, but i am finding it hard to diet lately. i read this article about these wacky weirdos who believe that if they limit their caloric intake (to levels that the article's author thought were insane) they could live to be 120 years old. i don't particularly want to outlive everyone i love or get a congratulatory letter from 2088's republican nightmare president (aren't i an optimist?) but, i usually eat about the daily calories that the people in the article eat. (from 1250 to 1500 a day.) at least, i did until i read the article. now suddenly i'm eating more again. maybe when summer is over i can exercise more and eat less. and enough of that boring topic.

if lilah gets into a developmental preschool i'll have a lot of time to myself. she'll ride the bus and her sibs will be in school till three. so i want to write that novel. we'll see how that goes. perhaps instead i will just have a much cleaner house and more clean clothes. as long as i manage to do something productive, it ought to be all right.

creativity blossoms

oh wow, lilah just plucked some of her hair up into "ears" and said "look mama, a rabbit!"

Yay.

I figured out where to buy a dress.
Goodwill.
Actually, I bought four.

Really, it's so odd. I went to a department store, and their dresses made me feel awful. I went to a discount store and they didn't even SELL dresses. I went to a thrift shop and felt fabulous and skinny and pretty and bought my whole summer wardrobe. How have the "real" stores gone so wrong?

Eh. What do I care. I have summer dresses!

disconnect

weird comment yesterday. i went to pick up the market day order, and the chick in charge asked why i bought 5 boxes of the big-ole pretzels that heat in the oven.
"we all just really love them."
"oh! that's great! i just wondered if you were having an affair."

uhhhhh.....

oh, right. she means a PARTY.

This morning my son jumped on my husband's side of the bed, pretended to sleep, and then pretended to snore. Then he jumped up and told me proudly: "Snoring is important for grown-ups!"
"Well... not exactly...."
"Only for boy grown-ups!"

my new chest

a very, very long time ago, a lovely woman i knew was moving out of her house to enter one of those nicer assisted living placed for older folks. Evelyn packed up everything she wanted, then her kids and grandkids cleaned out everything they wanted, and then she asked me if i wanted anything.

Evelyn gave me a freezer. an 8.3 cubic foot chest freezer. it is probably the most generous gift anyone other than my parents have ever given me.

yesterday i went into the garage to pull out some frozen bread, and found... mostly defrosted bread. uh-oh. the outlet still worked, that was easy to tell, because plugged in right above it was a little light-up plug, to let me know that the small appliance it was attached to was done charging.

so i called my husband at work, and he offered to try to fix it, but really, that wasn't realistic. the thing could have easily been twenty or thirty years old. we have no idea how old it is, but it was free and it worked perfectly for us for five years or so, and it was clearly done working now.

plus it had two or three hundred dollars worth of food in it.

so, spouse came home, emptied out his minivan, went to lowe's and bought a $268 8.9 cubic foot chest freezer. when it was cold inside, we emptied the old one and filled up the new one.

the stuff at the bottom of the old one was still frozen solid.

i love having a chest freezer. i hope this one lasts till i don't have kids in the house anymore. at least.

what does godzilla have to do with bedtime, again?

part of the standard bedtime routine around here is a "special extra story" that used to actually be special and extra. ;)

the two older kids start every day with an assumption of three storybooks at bedtime, plus the special extra story (which razi used to earn by reading a book to ME, but that sort of evaporated when his little sister who couldn't read at all got into the act).

one book is for staying clean and dry all day, which should be a given since zora is almost five now, but sometimes she gets lazy. argh.

the other two books are for cleaning up the two downstairs rooms in a timely manner at clean-up time. if they finish in under half an hour, they get both. if not, fifteen minute intervals come to take away the other two books and then the special extra story.

last night zora lost everything. then she had to lose something else even beyond the special extra story, so she lost the priviledge of drinking soda next shabbat. she was devastated. good. maybe she'll learn that screaming fits are not the best way to deal with disappointments.

razi, though, still got the special extra story. now, my spouse is a genius for making these things up on the fly, with prompts the children give him right before. our cats, hello kitty and godzilla are regular stars. but last night it was apparently my turn, so i told a story of godzilla rising from a laboratory at the local university and destroying the town we live in. of course, my spouse - genius that he is - saved the day with the judicious placement of a sleeping-pill-laced lean cuisine on top of a freight car.

everyone knows that godzilla's favorite snack is a train. ;)

yes, it was a goofy story, but razi seemed to like it.