The Mermaid Moment or Ode to a Summer Day

This is an illustration of the wonderful, long days of summer that, as I finally finish writing this, are slowly fading away .........

So, Jane and her friend, Emma, were having a tea party which I thought would end, after they had finished eating their little sandwiches and cookies, with beautifully clad, make-up covered girls retiring to Jane's room to play with dolls, dance, listen to music, and do whatever these two girls do when they spend hours upon hours together. But no. Soon they arrived in my room where I was busy doing one of the most loathsome of chores: folding the laundry. But that hated chore is for another post and entirely beside the point which is that the girls arrived in my room and had a request that went something like this:

We would like to put on swimsuits and then fill up the hot tub in your bathroom and then when we get too hot we'll run outside and cool off with the hose until we get cold and then we'll run back in and get back in the hot tub until we get too hot and then we'll go out and play in the hose until we get too cold and and we'll do this over and over and over and over again and it'll be so much fun!

I should mention that I do not have a hot tub, per se, in my bathroom, instead it is an adequate tub that does happen to have jets that probably spew gross gunk because they are rarely ever used. However, this did not matter to or even cross the minds of the little mermaids. Especially after their third trip running through my house without even attempting to use a towel.

It was after the first or second or maybe the third trip to the hose that they decided they needed goggles so they could forage on the bottom of the "wonderland de tub."



The goggles remained in place, never leaving their heads over the next while....possibly they became something of outgrowth on the lovely faces of the little ladies who were in the midst of a debate over whether they were to be land lovers or sea dwellers. Apparently, it really is a dilemma for little mermaids and these particular girls were quite invested in their decision because out came the snorkels and into the water the water they went! Again. And again.


However, the sea could not hold them forever; the call for land was simply too strong.....



The land, however, desperately needed to be adorned with water features. So these two budding engineers busied themselves in the design process.


Meanwhile, two little boys were wondering why there was extremely loud music coming from what was formerly known as "Mom and Dad's bathroom" which had now turned into something of a lagoon, but which was currently empty. So they followed the trail of wet, soggy footprints in the carpet and onto the wood floor out into the backyard to discover just what was going on. And I believe that they learned an important lesson that will probably stay with them for much of their lives: they had no idea what was going on in the minds of those girls.

So to sum up, a poem:

The summer day
It came to play
And lasted long
While we sang our songs
And played our games
And rhymed our names
And now we lament its passing........

The Evidence

I've had a few requests for pictures of the disastrous trip to the "salon." So, in the spirit of exhibiting certain aspects of our family life I present:

Exhibit A: The Fuzzy Monchichi look



















As a comparison - Exhibit B: A Fuzzy Monchichi




















Exhibit 1: The Shaggy Look




















Exhibit 2: Shaggy























But who doesn't want to look a little shaggy now and then?


I would be remiss at this point if I didn't inform all of you that yes, indeed, there is one thing that can fix hair mishaps and disasters: in our house it is known as goop, to most of you it is known as hair gel, and my boys insist on applying plenty of it....themselves.

So in conclusion, the Fixes:


Exhibit I: The fauxhawk...of sorts


















Exhibit II: Mr. Slick



















Aren't they cute...despite it all!

Luke in the Midst of Things

I know what you're thinking: Oh no, a bomb went off and Luke was hit by shrapnel! But don't fret, he's fine, he's just the third child....and he's finally sleeping. This has been a fairly constant theme in Luke's life, the no-sleep thing. I guess the third child thing, too. In fact, when I was looking at him this morning I was wondering why his pajamas seemed to be stretched all the way down to his knees when I remembered that it was after 11 a.m. and I hadn't changed his diaper yet today. And considering the large quantities of fluids he had consumed it was not a shocker that his diaper was literally dripping off of him. I really ought to start thinking about potty training but just like encouraging him to walk, which we didn't do until he was about fifteen months old, I'm not sure I'm ready for that. The operative words here having to do with me. I know, I know, my mom had nine kids and I don't remember it being until the last one that she was just too tired to really care about things like where he ended up sleeping. So maybe this is all just a last child kind of thing and it doesn't really have anything at all to do with the number of children I have.

But really, back to Luke sleeping, its becoming quite a common theme that he is found sleeping in some very interesting places. For instance, I picked him up from a "play date" and he had a very interesting carpet tattoo on his face. Apparently he had a ball playing face down in dreamland. And then there was the week or so that he would lie down nearly every day on the narrow bench in the kitchen and take a little snooze. Of course, he tried that one again a couple of days ago but quickly complained he was stuck on the bench so he's back to the floor now.

So maybe this says something about the lack of parental effort to get him to bed on time. But really that is another whole topic since he hasn't gone peacefully into bed once in his life....okay maybe that's a slight exaggeration, I think he might have been grateful for the soft pillow on three occasions. Or maybe this has to do with the fact that despite wanting to stay up till the wee hours of the night he loves sharing a room with his idol, his big brother, and once the early bird Mitchell is up Luke simply has to be following along. And of course Mitchell doesn't nap therefore Luke doesn't want to nap....but sometimes he cannot fight it and he succumbs.

For now, I guess I'll just do what I've been doing for the past couple of years with him and chalk this one up the fact that he is the third, and the last, and I'm just not up to being strict with the schedule or maybe its just that he is the last and I'm not ready to force an issue that doesn't seem to matter in my family all that much. He's my baby, after all, and I'm not sure I'm ready for him to grow up. So even if he does walk around like a sleep deprived zombie I'm okay coddling him...at least today.

Another Little Laugh

So William thought the cakewrecks were pretty funny...but he had an even better one. I have to give you fair warning, though: I am not in charge of the content. So if you chance to meet a frown or some not so perfect language, content matter, etc. blame William, not me (or just don't look). Here it is: failblog.org

A Little Laugh

My friend Lindsey sent a few of us a link to this blog: http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com

It is definitely worth a look if you feel like a little chuckle. Thanks Lindsey. I needed a diversion tonight.

Snip, Snip Snip, Snip, Snip......

There are plenty of things that I choose to spend my money on quite freely...oh yes, I know how to whip that wallet out. But, on the other hand, there certainly are things that I can be quite stingy about. Case in point: haircuts for my boys. Now, I fully admit that I do not do a great job cutting their hair. I have no training, I don't have a really good sense of what's the latest in little boy haircuts and even if I did I really doubt that I could recreate it, and I certainly don't feel qualified to wear a holster and use scissors in both hands (that is a story all in itself for another day). So although I might not do a good job, I don't really want to spend any money having someone else cut their hair. It just seems like I should be able to take of that on my own. I know, you've seen their hair and wonder what on earth makes me feel that I am sane, but regardless of my mental state, this is my feeling, or it was until the last time I tried to cut Luke's hair when he screamed and cried and yanked the scissors out my hand and I think the neighbors might have been on the verge of calling CPS because his tantrum might make one think that I was prying his toenails off one by one.

So I took Luke and Mitch to see the professionals...and I believe I may never do that again.

Luke was first. Now, I kind of like his hair a little long and shaggy on the top, so my instructions to the stylist went something like this:

I'm afraid that if I try to give him a little trim again I might cut his ear off as he grabbing the scissors from my hand, so I'll hold his hands and you just even things up a bit and trim his hair around the ears.

So she proceeds to clip and snip....and it is possibly the worst haircut in the history of haircuts on Luke's head. I understand, he was crying, but he was also sitting nearly stone still because he seemed to scared out of his mind. I think he was afraid that she was going to cut his ear off. Meanwhile, the other stylist in the shop had time and thought she'd take on Mitchell's cut. So in the midst of dealing with screaming baby I turned to this woman and said precisely this:

He just needs to be trimmed up a bit on the back and sides and he likes the front a little bit short so he put gel in it to make it a little spikey.

For maybe 30 seconds I returned my attention to Luke...and then I turned back to Mitchell, who now had no hair. Well, that is a slight exaggeration. His hair was buzzed except for a little tiny bit on the top that she was clipping shorter and shorter and shorter and shorter and shorter.....

I thought I was going to throw up. And then I looked at Mitchell; he was smiling. She finished up by creating some sort of fauxhawk and smiled at me, I guess, to indicate that this was a really cool haircut. I just wanted to grab her clippers (maybe shave her head) and scream: WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY HANDSOME LITTLE BOY?!!!!

So, even though I wanted to run screaming out of there, I left a tip. And on the way home Mitchell said, " this is great, Mom; its so short we won't have to go back for a long time! I love it!"

Yes, Mitchell, you're right, your hair will reach your ankles before I step foot back there. So its back to Mom's bathroom when you need your next haircut in four months and you may not love it quite as much but oh well, it will be free and I'll bet you might have a little more hair on your head when I'm done.

So instead of leaving you with a picture of the boys, tonight I'll leave you with the mental image of our very great day at the "salon."

But I couldn't finish this post without sending Aaron Walker a big thanks for buzzing his head and making Mitchell think that he is super-duper cool now. Thanks, Aaron, what would we do without you?! But why didn't you make it a little uneven? Then Luke would fit in, too.

Luke and the Bug

So my neighbor seems to think that this bug is a normal thing and I should be used to seeing them in my house even though I've lived here for over two years and have never in my life seen a bug such as this and, frankly, I hope I never see it again. It was quite a specimen, though I didn't hang on to this guy because the bugman (who, by the way, was not at my house because of this bug, but rather because of the hornets who were making a home by my front door...welcome to our house!) was so entranced by it and simply had to hang it on the wall of his office. Maybe another one will show up so Luke can mount it on his wall, after all, this thing is supposed to the norm around here. But since this one showed up while the bugman was spraying my house and gardens I'm guessing that it was trying to outrun the poison that now encircles and protects the perimeter of my home and I'll bet the rest of his posse is now disposed of or doesn't want to breach that perimeter that is supposed to hold them at bay for thirty days.

However, I think secretly Luke is hoping that several of these bugs decide to charge the barrier and come in to his hangout of choice - the garage - to play.