29 + 13

The Daddy had a birthday today. Twenty-nine again, just like me.

 

He went out to the Tucson Trap and Skeet range with some buddies and came home almost in time to go to brunch. I think they would have gotten back in time, but one of the guys got into a groove with the shooting and it would be a shame to quit just as you're on a roll. You know.

 

Even though we weren't technically "on time" for our reservation, we were seated promptly and promptly hit the buffet tables. Nicco was only slightly distressed that he didn't get to sit between the twins.

The babies finished before the big kids and were quite literally chomping at the bit (and by "bit" I mean "chocolate mousse" and by "chomping at the" I mean "sculpting with forks and chopsticks" and by "literally" I mean "figuratively.") to hike up to the waterfall.

 Nicco and his girls.

I love this picture. Nicco is mid-sneeze, Devin looks like she has some snark on, and Delaney, well, let's just say she's comfortable.

 They ran away from bees

 And looked for fish and frogs.

 My little family.

 Feeding the monstrous koi fish

The kids named the fish. There was Cow Fish, Yum-Yum Yellow, and Goldie, among others that I can't recall at the moment.

When we got home, I made a traditional birthday cake and Nicco put all the candles he could find on it. I think the Daddy might not mind going back to his 8th birthday...kids have it pretty good!

He blew out all the candles in one try and made a wish. Nicco guessed his wish was for a happy birthday. Guns, food, family, friends. I think he got his wish.

 

And now he's in the garage prepping his bike for another Big Ride. It doesn't get much better for him!

 



Are You Smarter than a First Grader?

Nicco just told me he's finished with his lunch.
I told him to take care of his dishes.
He said, "DISH! If it's one, it's DISH! If it's two, it's -ES! Do you need to go back to kindergarten???

School Pictures

I love my boy and I think he is the cutest kid in the history of earth, but there's a reason I don't pre-order (or post-order, for that matter) his school portraits.

And, this is the reason.

Once Upon a Time...

...I wrote a letter to our Dear Leader. It was back when he asked us peasants what $40 means to us. It went like this:

What does it mean to YOU? $40 from 14 MILLION taxpayers went up in smoke in the solyndra fallout. $40 from me and about 20 MILLION other taxpayers was spent on "stimulus." We all know how well that worked. How about the $40 6,250 taxpayers "invested" in the Chevy volt disaster of an eco-experiment? Or I don't know, ever think about the $40 stolen from 2,500 taxpayers so Queen Michelle could take a separate flight to Hawaii? I know Dear Leader spent $41 on treats for Bo...did Bo also get flown back here for a photo op? As you've apparently learned, $40 means a lot to a lot of people. Sadly, it doesn't appear to mean much to you, you condescending bunch of out of touch jerks. Merry Christmas.

Because I wrote to the White House, I got on The List. I hear from them regularly now.

Once the letter was about a kids' state dinner. I responded,

"Keep your royal overlord nanny-statist hands off the kids!"

I was thanked for my interest.

Our Dear Leader cares so much about us. He always wants to hear from us. He's One of Us, don't you know? Recently, after months of insulting and threatening our military, he sent another message to the peons. It was about serving those who serve us. Mostly I delete the messages I get from him because I don't like vomiting. But sometimes I just have to respond.

I've done it again. This is what I said this time:

How about you actually honor and respect our uniformed servicemen instead of insulting them and using them as tools and leverage to threaten the rest of us into going along with your disastrous agenda? I CAN'T wait for November to change your address.

Instead of hearing back from "The White House," I heard back from "The President" himself! This is what "he" said:

Thank you for writing. As President, it is my privilege to hear from Americans like you who take time to offer their perspective on the serious issues facing our Nation. I appreciate your message and value your input.

From putting Americans back to work ($23 million and 8.3% unemployed! Yay!) to expanding access to medical care(Taxmageddon! Woo hoo!), my Administration continues to take bold action to do what is right for our Nation. We have enacted the most comprehensive financial reforms in decades(QE3, anyone? Another credit downgrade? Awesome recovery there, junior.), rescued and helped retool our auto industry(Yeah, we know. GM's alive, Bin Laden isn't. Now GM is begging the gov't to get the hell out of their business. Won't happen, because selling at a loss would look bad. Thanks for that.), expanded student aid to millions of young people(Now the students can be students forevah! Good thing too, since they can't get jobs.), helped level the playing field for working women(The paychecks of the women in this administration beg to differ.), and made the largest investment in clean energy in our history (Solyndra!!!! Abound Solar!!! Amonix!!! Chevy Volt!!!). Because of the courageous acts of our service members, we have been able to end the war in Iraq and take down Osama bin Laden. (Captain Badass Spikes the football, again!) We have also made historic commitments to provide for our troops as they return home. Securing our country’s future will take time, but I will not stop working to rebuild the kind of America where everyone gets a fair shot, everyone does their fair share, and everyone plays by the same rules.

I am always eager to hear ideas that will help our country adapt to changing times and lead us toward a brighter day. The enduring American spirit is revealed in the letters I receive, (somehow, I get the impression he didn't really read my letter.) and I remain dedicated to ensuring it is reflected in our efforts to improve the lives of all Americans.

Thank you, again, for sharing your views. I encourage you to explore www.WhiteHouse.gov to learn more about the ways we are moving America forward.

Sincerely,
Barack Obama

Keep the lies coming, Lying Liar in Chief! Some day, I might believe them! Or not.
Only 42 more days.

Psst...

Passing notes is a long standing tradition.

 

I still have notes from high school passed between me and my friends. Top Secret. 007. For my eyes only.

 

I remember when my sister and I thought it would be great fun to take a Shakespeare class together in college. We had the worst professor in the history of earth teaching our class. He droned on and on and generally put us to sleep. To keep each other awake and to pass the seemingly interminable hour and a half, we passed notes back and forth instead of taking notes on the lectures.

 

Because the class was over an hour, we had a break half-way through. The professor got smart and finally started taking attendance after the break when he realized half the class wasn't returning. One day, just before the mid-point, Danae passed me a note asking if I planned to come back. My emphatic response was, "HELL NO!" We probably went to the cafeteria for a navajo taco instead of attending the second half of the class.  

 

For a long time, I saved printed church programs with notes scribbled between me and my roommates. Once when I was home from school, my sister and I were assigned to speak in church. While we waited for our turn, we passed notes back and forth. Just before I went up to speak, I was struck with the call of nature. I wrote to my sister, "I have to pee." We both started giggling (quietly) up on the stand in front of the entire congregation. I'm pretty sure it mortified my mother. I'm also pretty sure she forgot all about it, until this moment.

 

Now that my boy can write and is learning strategies for sounding out words, he is continuing the note-passing tradition. Last night after we played a card game and were watching a show before dinner, Nicco hid himself under a fort of pillows and blankets. He found a marker and a scrap of cardboard and slipped this note to me from under his hiding place:



 



I probably would have given in if he had already eaten. It was almost amusing enough for me to feed him ice cream for dinner.

STOMP

A couple of weeks ago while I was trudging through my treadmill run at the gym an advertisement for STOMP came on. Limited engagement! it said. Two days only! Get your tickets now!

 

I went home and told the Daddy that STOMP was coming to Tucson. He saw them perform before when he lived in Philly. He was blown away by their performance. Amazing! He said. I thought the Boy would like it too.

 

We made it a Family Date Night. Dinner and a show. We went to the Macaroni Grill. It was pretty awful, but it filled us up. Pasta. Bread. More pasta and bread.

 

This was our first time attending a performance at the Tucson Music Hall. It was very confusing. There were no ushers or signs indicating where to go and as we wandered, the only doors we saw led to bathrooms. We finally found our seats. The rows are really long...there were about 60 seats in our row with no center aisle. If someone had to get up to go potty from the middle of the row, they would have to climb over 30 people. Thank goodness no one had to get up and go potty in the middle of the performance!

 

The stage was lit up and music was playing before the show began. Nicco was not impressed. "So far, this stinks," he said. "Just wait," I said.

 

The elderly lady to the left of me asked if this was the first time we'd taken the kid to a show. Indeed it was. The lady behind me tapped my shoulder and said that the ushers have small boosters for small children. I climbed over 30 people to get to the end of the row to find a booster.

 

Finally the show started. I spent nearly as much time watching the one-man performance in the seat beside me as I did watching the stage performance. Nicco L-O-V-E-D it! He was stomping and clapping and snapping and woo-hooing throughout the show. Oh my goodness me.

 

The elderly lady to the left of me said when it was over, "He was hilarious! It's so nice to see young ones enjoy a show so much!" I concurred, with a big smile.

 

Nicco used this performance to write reports for both Music and P.E.

I helped him make little booklets with the tickets and pictures from the program.

"I went to STOMP on Saterday."

"STOMP is musick and exersise."

"I was amased."

Cross Country, Cars, and Cold!

Nicco and I had a lazy morning. I was finishing a book (Unbroken - we all know of the atrocities committed by the Nazis in WWII and I had some vague knowledge that the Japanese were pretty awful too, but holy cow.  Little Boy and Fat Man were pretty much justified means for the end.) and I was killing time until my super speedy niece took to the trails for an elite X-C invitational race. It was supposed to be webcast live! on the internets, but alas, it was not.

 

When I checked the race website, the people in charge appeared to really be on the ball! They were posting videos of all the races pretty quickly. Not quick enough for me, though. I obsessively hit the refresh button until the girls' race video was posted, then continued while it processed.

 

My poor boy needed some love and attention. I decided to take him to lunch and to a car show while the race video processed. 

We only stayed at the car show for a little while. It was hot. Nicco was bored. Frankly, I was too. Car shows are for Daddies. We decided to jump in the pool when we got home because we were boiling. There were rumors of the end of triple digit days, but they were FALSE rumors! 

The pool, however, has cooled down recently and has not recovered, even with a couple of 100+ days. I remember our first summer here. We eagerly awaited the water temperature to go over 70. It was bearable at 72, nice at 76, and heaven at 78. People kept telling me to wait until it got over 90 and I wouldn't even want to be in it. Bah, I say! It was 94 at the peak this summer. Deee-lightful!

 

So when I dipped my toes in the 84 degree water, I was chilled. Submerging my whole body was downright frosty! That's the world I live in now. One in which 84 degrees is cold. We need to replace our worn out pool cover if we are going to be able to swim into October!

 

When we got out of the pool, I checked the videos of Lucy's race...she's been chasing one girl in particular and closed to within 7 seconds of her today. She is also rapidly approaching the 18 minute barrier. Both 18 minutes and Summer Harper are in danger of being surpassed by Miss Lucy!

Lucy is 2nd from the right on the 2nd row
4th place finish, 18:17 5k

 

I'm a proud aunt.

The World's Stongest Kid

Richard Sandrak's (look him up) got nothing on Nicco!

Except, you know, well-defined muscles and actual athletic prowess.

But Nicco can push a car!

God Bless America

 ...of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

Happy Constitution Day, Patriots.
Celebrate it.
Honor it.

Pray for it.
It's in danger.

Speaking of Fundies...

Last night was a Family Picnic and Auction fundraiser for Nicco's school.

I kind of didn't want to go because, noise. Kids who aren't mine. Noisy kids. Most of whom aren't mine.

But, Nicco wanted to go.

So we went.

He really wanted to bid on a trip to Blue Banana for frozen yogurt with his teacher. I made sure to carefully and clearly explain what auctions and bidding are so that he wouldn't be bitterly disappointed if (when) I was outbid.

When we arrived, he didn't see any of his friends. He proudly showed me his playground and we looked at the kid artwork that was to be auctioned. It was pretty awesome stuff, and I suspect there was A LOT of art-teacher assistance.

There was a whipped-cream eating contest and I was really glad that the prizes were not fantastic enough to entice my boy into a competition with me.

The kids' gym and P.E. teachers put out some balls and cones and hula hoops and frisbees for the kids to play with in the field. Nicco had not yet found a friend so I was his buddy when he noticed these dinosaur stilts:

He loved them. He wanted me to buy them. I told him we could put them on the ever growing birthday list. He was walking on his stilts out in the field and a couple of older girls dressed like street-walkers, in my opinion, came up to him and asked, "Can we use those?" I told them he was taking his turn and when he was finished, they could have their turn. They looked at me for a minute, like was I serious, and strutted away in a bit of a huff when they realized that yes, I was serious.

We played frisbee, with not a lot of success. Nicco wouldn't go far enough away from me to get a good throw. He finally found a buddy and they played on the playground together and I got to chat with the other mom. Which was what I really wanted to do...find a quiet spot on the playground where I could sit and watch my kid play with friends while I chatted with moms. ~sigh~

Eventually the auction got underway. The first item up for bid was a private instrument lesson with one of the music teachers. The bidding started at $30. I don't remember what it went for. The second item was Blue Banana with Mrs. G. The bidding also started at $30.

Now, I realize this is a fundraiser. It is essentially a donation to the school with a little something on the side. I get it. But is a bowl of frozen yogurt REALLY on par with a private music session? And I had to bid on it! For the kid, you know. Not only did the bidding start at $30, but it went up in $10 increments. I got my bid in when it was at $40 and was quickly outbid. I think it eventually went for $70. Good for the school. I'm honestly glad that people are willing to spend that kind of money on ice cream for the school. I'm glad Nicco wasn't disappointed. I'll take him to Blue Banana some day.

We left the auction area once we were defeated and found a tail game to play. You attach these belts around your waist and insert the matching tail. It's the same idea as the flags in flag football. I don't know if the game has rules, but Nicco and I just chased each other around trying to steal each other's tail. That was fine. It made my baby giggle.

Just a few minutes later, he saw some friends and invited them to play. Our little group was up to a handful. Me and the kids. Of course, the kids all ganged up on me. That was okay. For the kids. They were all happy and giggling.

Before I knew it, all the tails were claimed and the group was up to about 20 kids. And me! There were so many kids that they branched off into smaller groups but I was still the main target. When my boy was off with his 5 friends, I wanted out. Because, noisy kids. Who weren't mine. Grabbing at me with grubby hands and messy faces. Pulling not only on my tail, but on my clothes too. I almost had to yell at one girl. I didn't, but I was Very Firm with her.

When I told Patrice about the evening, he asked, "No one came to your rescue?" No, indeed. No gallant Dad in shining armor came riding on a white horse to save me from the hoard of squealing children. No, no. Those heroes were all on the sidelines taking pictures and videos and laughing.  Jerks.

The sun started going down and the gym owner took down his little shade tent. It was a good signal for me to pretend that it was time for us to stop the game and clean up. Nicco and I ate crappy cold pizza then went home.

As we walked to the car, he told me over and over how much fun he had and how he wanted to do that every year and it was the best and he loves Family Picnic Night and it was awesome and I can't wait to tell Dad and maybe there will be another one in the spring and if there is can we go and that. was. so. fun.

That five minute one-sided conversation with my boy made the whole evening worth it.

Word of the Day

Dhimmitude.

Dhimmitude is the status that sharia, the Islamic law, gives to non-muslims. Especially Jews and Christians. Dhimmis are protected under the law and allowed to practice their religion in a sharia regime, but are subjected to humiliating regulations specifically designed to make them feel subdued, per the koran.

Our Dear Leader did not want this election to be about the economy. For obvious reasons. He wants it to be about foreign policy. Okay, captain badass, with the middle east on fire, our embassies stormed, our flag burned and replaced by the black flag of al qaeda and our ambassadors murdered, you got your wish. It's about foreign policy.

Our president bravely ran away to fundies in Vegas. He'll be spending some quality time with David Letterman, Jay-Z and Beyonce. (He's sooo cool! *sarc*) He refuses to meet with P.M. Netanyahu. (Man, I envy the Israelis their leader!) He got the Palace Guard to spin, spin, spin and make this a story about Mitt Romney's statement about a statement rather than his own ineptitude.

Mitt Romney's statement was one of no-apology strength. Defending our rights and values.

Obama's statement and subsequent actions suggest dhimmitude.

To which I say,

"I will not submit/surrender."

Fifty three days.

These are a Few of My (Cat's) Favorite Things

When I was in Colorado this summer, a guy on a talk radio show said "there are two types of people in the world: those who want to be left alone and those who just won't leave you alone." My cat is definitely of the "just leave me alone" stripe. (Cats are people too, you know.) Sometimes we won't see her all day except for the brief moments that she graces us with her presence to eat or poop.

There are a few things that will bring her out of seclusion without fail. One is the Daddy coming home. She likes him best. Another is her kitty treats. Have you seen the kitty treat commercial where a girl at an office tells a guy at the office, "I like your boots." He says, "They're not boots. They're my cats." That's Frankie. Once you shake 'em, you can't shake 'er.

Another sure-fire way to get Frankie's attention is doing laundry. Specifically, washing the sheets. It's not the doing of the laundry, it's the making of the bed. As soon as the fitted sheet comes out, she comes running. Every time. She likes to be sandwiched under the fitted sheet. Thinking about it gives me claustrophobic hyperventilation, but she likes it.

 Of course, what the cat does, Nicco does.

It's an alternate species Monkey-See, Monkey Do.

Her Royal Feline Highness cries near-death howls if there are mere crumbs in her food bowl at any given time. For some reason my fat and pampered housecat thinks she is near starved and thirsted to death in our house. Every time I walk toward my bathroom she comes running and jumps up to the sink. She looks at me expectantly. She wants a small puddle of water to drink. If she could put her hands on her hips and tap her foot, I'm sure she would.

At the end of the day, she finds her purr-fect snuggle-up spot.  Not in the small of my back or the crook of my neck or my soft and warm lap like every other cat ever.

She prefers the cold porcelain of the bathroom sink. Fitting.

Never Forget

Little Man

Nicco can be careless.

He sometimes causes spills or breakage just because he isn't paying attention.

Or just because he's six. And a boy.

Or because he's the son of a somewhat clumsy mother. (But I doubt it.)

 

Almost without fail when a spill or other accident occurs, he hurriedly says he's sorry, it was an accident. Almost without fail I tell him I don't want him to be sorry, I want him to be careful and to pay attention to his surroundings.

 

Accidents happen. It's no big deal usually. But every time I hear that little "Mo-om, something bad happened." I sigh a heavy sigh and wonder what now?

 

The other day he uttered the dreaded phrase and showed me the broken flag from his tree house mailbox. (phew!) I told him to just set it down and let the Daddy fix it. He said, "I'm pretty sure I can fix it. You just do this and this, and this goes here, and I think that's it." The last time a part of his tree house fell apart, the boy fell apart too. I was ready to scold him about forcing things and letting it be until Papa could look at it, but Patrice was nearby so I told him to show his dad and ask if it was right.

 

It was right and the next morning he marched out to the mailbox and put it back together. He came in and brushed his hands free of the imaginary dust of his labor and proudly stated, "It's all up and ready to go." He couldn't wait to tell Patrice when he got home. When the Daddy did arrive, Nicco showed him and asked, "Do you want me to take it apart and do it again?" So sweet, so innocent, so eager to please and impress his dad. We both shattered that dream by immediately saying NO! Then we gently explained that if he takes it apart and puts it back together over and over it will wear out and get broken for good.

 

This evening Nicco asked his dad if he wanted to play in the tree house with him. Patrice said he needed to fix something on the Jeep first. Nicco said, "Cool. Can I help?"

 

There is almost nothing better than seeing my two boys working together with their hands. I know that Nicco will learn valuable skills by spending this time in the garage with his dad.

 

I went out to check on them and Patrice's head was buried in wires and Nicco was in the driver's seat telling him where the front-right something or other was. It was delightful. 

I wanted to take a picture but Nicco did not cooperate when I came back out with the camera. I got a silly face instead of a candid moment of the two of them with their tools and toys.

"Sick" Day

Nicco really does enjoy school, so it baffles me that he wants to stay home every time he has the smallest symptom of illness. (Like a scratchy throat or dry eyes first thing in the morning...um, hello, that's every day!)

 

Yesterday morning he complained about a headache and I told him to drink some water and eat his breakfast and he would feel better. When I picked him up from school he told me that his head still hurt "and I ate every bite!" He went on to say that every time he jumped at P.E. his head hurt. (bad mom!) When we got home he was pink-cheeked and puny looking so I took his temperature and sure enough, he had a small fever. I gave him a tylenol and relegated him to the couch for the evening.

 

That was pure torture because he discovered these awesome pool floaties at his buddy's house and I picked them up for him on sale at Wal-mart while he was at school. The tylenol kicked in and he insisted that he was all better. In reality it was just the floating airplane calling his name from the back yard. I caved and let my slightly sick boy play in the pool, THEN relegated him to the couch for the rest of the evening. His fever got a little higher before bed so after chicken soup and more tylenol, the boy went to bed and I told him he couldn't go to school the next day. Glee! Rapture!

 

I quickly reminded him that boys who are too sick for school are too sick for play. I gave him a list of things we would be able to do on his sick day--read stories, practice French, sleep, play cards.

 

Wii, i-pad, and the pool were glaringly absent from the list.

 

I kind of knew that he would be all better by morning so I prepared for Nicco's at home school day. 

He added breaks, (brack) lunch, and recess to the list.

I did let him play wii-fit as part of his P.E. report. He was so happy.

We did some research on his favorite composer, Mozart, for his music report. It's funny...whenever you ask him what his favorite music is, he invariably responds "Mozart."

 

 

This is the video part of his music presentation, which I will e-mail to his teacher when he turns in his report:

He loved marking off the boxes on the list and felt very pleased and proud of himself for all the things he got done.

 

I was pleased and proud too. Of myself!

 

It is now an established fact that sick-days are school days too.

Labor Day Weekend

Our holiday weekend began with a postponed backyard barbecue. We were planning to grill burgers last weekend, but Nicco brought home some germs from school and we all got sick. Boo!

 

I would live on burgers and fries if I could, especially the double-deluxe burgers my husband makes. Yummers. While the grown-ups ate and visited, the young ones played and wore themselves out. There are a couple of kids in that pile of stuffed buddies on the couch!

On Monday we decided to get out of the house and have some fun. We planned to go back to Trail Dust Town for lunch and to check out the train, museums, rides and other attractions but when we arrived, the parking lot was ominously empty. There was one lady doing some maintenance outside so we asked her if the place was open and she said yes, but not until 4:30. It was about 11:45. Boo, again! We didn't plan to hang around for four hours so we found lunch (and dessert!) then went to nearby Golf-n-Stuff instead of cowboy town.

Nicco got a balloon at the restaurant and wanted to go home instead of having more fun. Patrice said he would show Nicco what "more fun" was and then he could decide. The boy decided that mini-golf would be more fun than playing with his balloon after all.

Nicco was pretty pleased with himself, hitting the golf ball more often than missing it. He even got one hole-in-one. After that ace he told his dad, "Watch and learn." It was funny.

I took a normal picture of Nicco in front of this castle but he made me do it again, "like this so it looks like I'm holding the castle up in my hands." He's Superman!

 This is Nicco's surprised and amazed face. Look at all the treasure!

We bought two mini-passes, which included one round of golf, one ride, and four game tokens. Patrice played golf with the boy and offered to let me ride the bumper boats with him. Nicco said, "No! I want to ride with Daddy!" Yay me!

I think that Nicco was technically an inch or two too short to go on the boat by himself, but no one checked. I was slightly anxious about him being able to drive the boat alone, mostly because I worried how he might react if he couldn't do it just right and got frustrated. I envisioned him bailing out in anger and frustration. My worry was unwarranted...he did great. He chased his daddy down and ran away from him like a pro.

It was a soggy good time!

The last stop was the arcade. Bleh.

The boys had fun, and I had fun watching them have fun.