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.

It's a Thing.

It's called "Eastwooding" and it's like Tebowing but awesome because, Clint Eastwood.

It's telling an empty suit to move on over, it's time for someone serious to get down to business.

It's telling someone who thinks he owns the White House he temporarily occupies that no, in fact, WE own this. We own this country.

It would only be better if it involved a double barrel shotgun and a snarly lip curled "Get out of my house."

What I Love About Pooh

I never read the original Winnie-the-Pooh stories as a kid. My little sister loved the Pooh books. In fact, I think she read them aloud to her first fetus. If I had known when I had a fetus what she knew about Pooh, I might have read them to my boy in utero too. But then I would have missed the giggle fests we have together at bedtime.

All that to say I'm glad I discovered Pooh with my boy.

I love that the first thing Piglet says to himself each day is "I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?"

I love Pooh's philosophy on writing poetry:

But whatever his weight in pounds,

shillings, and ounces,

He always seems bigger

because of his bounces.

 

"And that's the whole poem," he said. "Do you like it, Piglet?"

"All except the shillings," said Piglet. "I don't think they ought to be there."

"They wanted to come in after the pounds," explained Pooh, "so I let them come in. It is the best way to write poetry, letting things come."

 

And I love Pooh's absent mindedness...

"Pooh was so busy not looking where he was going that he stepped on a piece of the forest which had been left out by mistake (hee hee hee) and he only just had time to think to himself "I'm flying. What Owl does."

 

That last one made me giggle as I read. When I started to giggle, my boy giggled too. When he giggled, I giggled more. Then he snort-giggled and we just couldn't stop.

 

That's what I love most about Pooh.

You Learn Something New Every Day

"Nicco Licks Cat"

Kinda makes me wonder what happens in 1st grade.

Camera Dump

I was just going through the pictures on my camera and this is what I found:

Nicco and the twins locked up in jail.  There was a surprise party for the girls' mom at the Pinnacle Peak steak house in a place called Trail Dust Town. I have never heard of Trail Dust Town. If I had, we may not have spent so much money visiting Old Tucson Studios! Trail Dust Town is an old-timey western themed area with some restaurants, a train, a museum or two, an opera house, and some other old-timey attractions, including a gun fight play. The kids had fun. We'll probably go back some time.

This is Sammer's Kingdom, with King Sammer in the red crown, Queen Sammer in the yellow crown, and the castle tower in the middle. King Sammer is a villain in Super Paper Mario. Nicco has drawn several pictures of Sammer's Kingdom and he was very proud of himself for building it too.

When I took Nicco school supply shopping, he asked me if he needed a pencil box. It wasn't on the list so I said no. He came home from school the first day and said, "Remember when I asked if I needed a pencil box and you said no? Well, I do."  Apparently last year when the first grade team of teachers got together to make their supply list, Mrs. G. was the only one who wanted the kids to bring a pencil box so it didn't make the list and she forgot to put it on her own class supply request list.

I bought Nicco a pencil box on a Friday and he spent the weekend playing store. He sold us markers and toy dinosaurs from his pencil box, and he made signs directing us to the store and informing us whether it was open or not.

This is Nicco's store. I let him keep it up for the weekend. He was a little disappointed when he came home from school and it was dismantled. Oh well.

A few months ago Frankie caught a nasty bug with lots of legs and pincers. Nicco said he thought it was a "penelopede." The other day Nicco hopped in the pool ahead of me while I went to get towels. While I was still inside he yelled frantically, "Mom! Get out here NOW!" I came running because that's what moms do when they hear the frantic screams of their children, especially when there are rattlesnakes and other dangerous critters around, and especially when they are in a pool where drowning is a danger.

The boy was not drowning (hence the scream...drowning is a silent killer) and there were no snakes. This is what he wanted me to see:

It's a penelopede!

Spelling Test Update

Nicco got a "Super!" on the regular words, 7/7, and a "Wow!" on the challenge words, 4/4.

He couldn't wait for me to see. As soon as we got in the car he told me to look in his backpack because they got their tests back and "You're going to be impressed!"

He said he got them all right because he had one last chance to look before Mrs. G. took the words down for the test. I told him he got his words right because we reviewed every night.

Either way, I guess I better take him out for ice cream!

Participation Award Syndrome and The Big Test

Nicco has five "specials" classes outside of the regular core classes: Art, Music, P.E., Computer Lab, and Library. The music and P.E. teachers sent home grading system and requirements for their classes, saying that by showing up and participating appropriately every day the kids will earn a 3 on a grading scale of 1-4. To get a 3.5 or 4, they need to do a little extra work. Four outside assignments each quarter. No big deal, I think. A totally reasonable expectation.

Yesterday while we were gathering and chatting as we waited for our kiddos to come through the gate, one of the other moms asked me how Nicco is doing. I said he's doing great, he's happy and he really likes his teacher and he's already started working on his extra music and P.E. assignments. She said she has a problem with that. She thinks that kids should be able to get everything done that they need to do while they are in class. I reminded her that they can. The extra assignments are not required for passing the classes with a respectable grade. But to get the best grade, they have to put in a little extra effort. I don't just approve, I applaud that notion. You should not get a trophy, reward, the highest grade, for merely showing up. Period.

Then she said, "but with three kids in school it just gets really hard for me to keep track of." Aha. I see.

Instead of making a snarky comment about having already gone through first grade myself I'm just going to go ahead and have Nicco do his own work, I reminded her that if she examines the activities her family already does she will probably find that many of their activities meet the extra requirements. All the kids need to do is document them and turn them in.

I just hate the idea that showing up is enough to get the highest recognition. I hate rewarding expected behavior. Rewards and highest honors are for excellent work, not meeting minimum requirements. And, I think it is good to instill ambition and work ethic and striving for excellence as early as 1st grade.

Also, Nicco has his first spelling test today. He brought home his word list on Monday. The words he must know are the, of, to, me, a, and, & red. They also have four challenge words: friends, nice, help, and didn't. (He spells "didn't" D-I-D-N-popostraphe-T.) We reviewed each night this week. He had no problem with the sight words, but consistently spelled friends and help wrong up until yesterday. Last night he said, "The big test is tomorrow! I hope I get 100%."

Mrs. G. expects the kids to spell the sight words correctly. The challenge words are intended to be a challenge and she only expects them to do their best. If they get the beginning and ending letters right, that is appropriate for them at this stage. I know Nicco will get 100% on the sight words. I'm pretty confident he will get 100% on the challenge words too. If he does, guess what--I will reward him for doing extra work and going beyond the minimum expectation. And if he does not, I will encourage him to work harder next time.

No participation award for you!

Nicco-isms

Nicco saw a blue pumpkin Halloween candy collecting bucket and said he wants that this year. I reminded him that he has a spider bucket for collecting candy. He reminded me that "I also have an orange pumpkin and two McDonald's buckets. I need a blue and a green pumpkin for my collection. I'm pretty much the Collector Guy."

Nicco tripped on one of his toys that was in the middle of the floor and said, "This house is a death trap!"

Nicco was watching a French cartoon (and singing along to the theme song! So friggin' cute!) and he said, "I wish I came from France. Paris (he pronounced it Pah-ree) is the City of Love. That's pretty much the perfect place. For everybody."

Words to Live By

There's a new cartoon on Nick (yay...) called Robot and Monster.

Monster is the happiest guy in the world.

Robot is an unsuccessful inventor.

After a mishap with an invention, Monster asked Robot, "Why are you so down?"

Robot responded, "My dreams of greatness came crashing down, exploded, and sent radioactive material into the sky."

Monster said, "That's no reason to be unhappy."

Robot asked, "Then what is a good reason?"

Monster responded with these words to live by: "There is no reason, silly! It's all a matter of how you look at things!"

Kindergarten Reunion

Nicco's Kindergarten teacher organized a little get together at the park with all the students from their class. They were all excited to see each other again and lined up to give her hugs.

Everyone reported on their first few days, their new teachers, and new friends. There was some unhappy buzz about the fact that our first grade classes are overcrowded and there will be a new first grade class in a couple of weeks. Everyone is glad that the classes will be smaller, but no one wants their kid to have to change.

Except...apparently, Mrs. Cornwell's new school isn't quite all it's cracked up to be and she's struggling a little with certain issues and the Painted Sky principal has been aggressively re-recruiting her. If she were to take that position, I think she would get all or most of her old class back together and that would be awesome!  The bad thing for Brandie is that our principal wants her to interview for the position. Again. She kind of thinks that if PS wants her back, they should just offer her the position. She worked there for two years, there's nothing they don't know about her, she has gone through the interview process three times already. I kind of agree with her.

I asked if coming back to Painted Sky is a remote possibility and she just doesn't know at this moment. She has a lot of factors to weigh and consider. I think she should weigh and consider all these kiddos who love her so!

A Brief Encounter at the Emissions Testing Station

I had to get my car's emissions tested so I could renew my registration and when I pulled into the test spot the tester guy exclaimed, "The other person with a Romney sticker! I finally met you!"

We shook hands and encouraged each other to shake up our lazy little friends, like Lady O told us to.

Then he told me that he saw the worst, creepiest bumper sticker in the history of Earth.
It said Dear Lord, help me to be the person Obama wants me to be.

Dear Lord indeed.

First Day of School in a Nutshell

I have set a precedent for myself...I put a note in Nicco's lunch on the first day of French camp, so now he expects a lunchbox note every day. He also has a little mailbox on his house and looks forward to mail once in a while.

I put a letter in his mailbox that read:
"YAY Nicco! You did it! You got through your first day of first grade! Only 177 more to go!"
He read the letter then stood frozen for a moment, looked up and raised his hands to the sky and yelled, "NOOOOOO!!!!!"

I said, "Didn't you like your letter?"

He said, "I did, all but the 177 days part. How many days until my break?"

Love/Hate, First Day of School Edition

Love:
Sending my boy off to learn and grow.

Hate:
Sending my boy off. Boo hoo! I miss him when he's gone. Lucky me, he told me the other day that he's not going anywhere for 2,037 years!

Love:
Nicco will meet a whole bunch of new friends! He needs to expand his circle. Especially now that his "best friend ever" is not in his class and will be moving in a month or two.

Hate:
Nicco will have to make a whole bunch of new friends. It is almost as hard for him to do this as it is for me.

Love:
I finally get to indulge the Dracula craving I've had since my birthday. I can watch a mommy show while I dust, do dishes, and fold laundry!

Hate:
Carmageddon in the parking lot.

Love:
New beginnings.

Random Ruminations

Elizabeth was Nicco's first house guest. He prepared snacks and drinks and set comfy pillows on the floor. 

 They played Skipbo

 And they played school. They were teaching their students about different modes of transportation. biycl, car, plan. Cute.

They told me they had 200 students.

Nicco also learned how to connect with his cousins to play Mario Kart on the wii.

He played with Lucy and Duncan first. He was so excited to win! Again! And again! I was a little suspicious. I thought to myself, either those cousins haven't played in a really, really long time, or they are being very kind to him. I asked Diana if they were letting him win, and she in turn asked Lucy. Lucy just smiled. What nice big cousins he has.

Later, he wanted to play again but Lucy and Duncan were not available. I called my other sister and she allowed her boys to play with mine. They did the same thing, but under instruction from their mama to at least let him be competitive. They even let him win once or twice.

Then all three families hooked up together. They played several different kinds of games, one in which he was on a team with Lucy. Lucy was definitely handicapped with Nicco on her team, and the others didn't hold back for her.

I think that they were all good sports and had some fun. I hope they know they made their little cousin's day.
He L-O-V-E-D playing with them.

My weird little kid likes to nest. He is comfy all surrounded by pillows and blankets and toys. He made this particular nest for his Peeps.

We also spent a day at the local water park last week. I've heard bad things about it. I've heard it is over-priced and run-down and it is a game of chance whether all the rides will even be working on any given day. Considering all the negative press, I was pretty pleased with the park itself.  Nicco had a blast and has been begging to go back. We probably will. Next year.

 And again, with the nesting.

We have really enjoyed our new patch of grass the past few days. It's always shady and gets a nice little breeze.  Even with the shade and the breeze 100+ degrees is hot. And yet, my boy can't resist burrowing under pillows and blankets and stuffed buddies.

I told him he's a weirdo for making a blanket of pillows in 100 degrees. He said, "I'm a kid. What did you expect?"

And finally, we had a crazy storm roll in and roll back out. Apparently it wreaked havoc on some parts of town. This is the second monsoon that has caused a lot of damage with downed power lines and lost power. We had a great view of the storm without getting any of the damage.

The wall of rain was wrapped up in a rainbow. I don't think I will ever get used to the awesome power of the monsoons.

Nicco starts first grade next week. We meet his new teacher on Wednesday, and we are having a kindergarten reunion picnic on Saturday with his old teacher and classmates. I'm excited for him and feeling a little sad that our summer is almost over. A little mama-sentimentality overcoming me again.

Although, it could just be the P&G "sponsor of moms" commercials on the olympics. They kind of make me cry a little.

Quotes of the Day

I took Nicco to Breakers Water Park today. On the way, a Viagra commercial came on. The voice on the radio said, "Men, some of you are uncomfortable talking about E.D." The voice in the back seat said, "That's right. I'm not comfortable talking about it."

It was a long, hot day in the sun and water. Nicco was a little crabby and worn out this evening. At bed time I got his traditional chocolate milk and as we walked to his room he said, "There's nothing better than reading, chocolate milk, and a comfortable bed to make a night feel good."

Eat Mor Chikin...Tomorrow

I just called my local Chick-fil-A to find out how late they are open and Jim, who has been in retail for forty years, said he has NEVER seen anything like this.

Yay America! Woo Hoo!

He said he appreciates the support and by all means, come on down, but that he is suggesting to people that they show their support another day. Unless they want to wait an hour or more.

Yay again, America!

Eat Mor Chikin

It's Chick-fil-A day.

In case you live under a rock, here's the scoop...the owners of Chick-fil-A have traditional, Christian values. Their stores are not open on Sunday and recently in an interview, one of the owners voiced his support of traditional marriage. They do not discriminate against homosexuals in their hiring, they do not kick homosexuals out of their restaurants.

When this interview was published, oh my! The outrage! Many open minded, progressive and oh-so tolerant folks in Hollywood (Eliza Dushku, Roseanne Barr, among others) and politics (Mayors Emanuel and Menino of Chicago and Boston) have threatened boycotts and bans.

Well, guess what, MORONS, there's a little thing called the US Constitution. The boycotts and voicing opposition to the Chick-fil-A stance are understandable (except for the vile, foul, nastiness with which these people express themselves) and allowed by our Dear Old Document. I totally support voting with your wallet. I don't patronize companies with whom I strongly disagree. However, those mayors and others  have actively pursued means and ways to BAN Chick-fil-A and shut them down and prevent expansion in their cities. Because they expressed an opinion contrary to theirs.

Rahm Emanuel said "Chick-fil-A values are not Chicago values." PFFFFTTT...I spit my milk out on that one. Chicago values. Anyone seen the violent crime statistics in Chicago? Hey Mayor Emanuel, how's that murder rate been under your watch?

Enough about Chicago.

Whether you support traditional marriage, same-sex marriage, neither, or both, surely we can all come together on the first amendment rights to free speech and religion?

Here's a little reminder:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

I know it is hard for some people to understand language from over two hundred years ago. Let me translate: We're allowed to practice our chosen religion. FREELY. We're allowed to express our opinion and to speak FREELY. By law. Written in stone. For over Two hundred years.

So, EAT MOR CHIKIN!