Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Touche

So last night I broke one of my own personal rules of parenthood - I conspired with one kid to get information about another. It's not really as sinister as it sounds. It's basically this ... I don't know if we are going to keep Jake in drum lessons, but Sam wants to keep playing guitar. So I asked Sam, "What do you think Jake would do if you kept going to guitar, but he didn't have drums anymore? Do you think he would care? Would he be jealous or mad?"

And to this Sam responded. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"I don't know Sam. Why did the chicken cross the road?" I asked.

"I don't know either. Sometimes you just have to ask the chicken."

Well played, Sam. And point taken.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Shalom Mateys

At the breakfast table this morning the boys were having a heated debate about who first sailed the seven seas. I don't even know if an explorer ever sailed all seven seas; everything I know about ocean exploration comes from the Pirates of the Caribbean movies.

But Sam swore he knew, and that the explorer's name started with a J.

"Could it be Magellan?" I asked him.

"Christopher Columbus!" Jake yelled.

"No, it was Jesus. Jesus was the first to sail the seven seas."

Somewhere between Sunday school, Vacation Bible School and third grade Sam has created a story about Jesus and his merry band of disciples, sailing the seven seas and walking on water.

Thus Spoke Paul Reubens

I came around the living room corner this morning and Jake was sprawled out on the couch, watching cartoons. His pants were at his knees.

"Jacob! That's not appropriate. Please pull up your pants."

"But I'm pretending I'm at a movie theater. At a movie theater I can do whatever I want."

"Yeah? Tell that to Pee Wee Herman."

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Treat

So I woke up in a good mood this morning, refreshed, ready for the day. Bryon is out of town so it was up to me to get everybody up and ready and out of the house by 7:30. And we managed to do it smoothly, dare I say happily. So much so that as I was driving to work I thought how could I not be thankful on a day like this. A day when my kids are healthy and happy, when I'm fortunate to be employed, when we all have breakfast in our bellies.

But over the course of the day my mood soured. Not sure why. Road rage, another 95-degree day, a seasonal migraine, kindergarten homework, two more loads of laundry. So after the boys went off to play soccer with our neighbor I fixed Abby a "dinner" of apples, grapes, cheese and crackers, and when she finished we cracked open a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

Since I'm trying to set a good example, I skipped the apples, grapes, cheese and crackers, and went straight to the ice cream, Chocolate Fudge Brownie. I'm somewhat of a purist when it comes to ice cream, in that I would rather have a spoonful of something full fat, full sugar than a gallon of anything "lite."

"This ice cream makes me smile" Abby said.

Me too.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Hey Kid Rock and Roll

Sam and Jake had their first School of Rock performance on Saturday. I think it takes a lot of courage to get up on stage like they did. Thank you to our friends Fox and Tim and Julie for coming and to Tim and Julie for the photos. We managed to leave every recording device at home or in the car.

"Slowhand" Romine

"Minnesota" Romine

Look out Tommy Lee

The Game Face

Friday, September 10, 2010

Occupied

Every Thursday when the boys have their music lesson, I drive through Burger Street and get a 44-ounce sweet tea. I consider myself somewhat of a sweet tea connoisseur, and I find for drive-through sweet tea, Burger Street is about the best. The added bonus, it's $1. For a trough of ice tea. A cup so big it defies my car's cup holders.

Forty-five minutes later, when I pick up the boys, I have usually finished the 44 ounces, although I realize it is unnatural to consume that much liquid in so short a time. This usually means that the minute we get home - the second - I have to use the bathroom. That can be difficult in our house, however, because the kids need help in, someone usually forgets something in the car, the gate has to be shut, the pets have to be petted. This was the case last night.

Although I ran straight for the bathroom, Abby caught up with me, anxious to tell me about her day. Tag the Dog followed me, well, because he follows me EVERYWHERE. Felix the Cat loped in, winding around my legs to signal he was hungry. Sam stomped in, dealing with a potential Nintendo DS crisis (he'd left it at his lesson). Bryon walked to the end of the hallway to see what Sam was yelling about. And there I was, using the bathroom with an audience.

I was just about to lose it, I mean really lose it when Abby interrupted her soliloquy to say, "Momma, your butt is terrific!"

That almost makes up for the lack of privacy.

Wednesday, September 01, 2010

Attila the Hunter

When we adopted Phineas earlier this year the agency had named him Attila. Ha, we thought. What a ferocious name for a schmitten so round and fluffy.

But a few months under the tutelage of our other adult male cats and Phineas is earning the name Attila - not with us, but with the community of woodland creatures who apparently live near us. In the past few days he has captured four rats, countless geckos, junebugs, locusts, moths and birds. In most cases he brings them in the house, usually preceded by a very proud, wailing mew.

The bloodbath has gotten so bad that last week I actually had to bathe the cat because his underbelly, which is covered with a long, thick coat, was sticky with blood and ... organs. Or bits of organs. He looked like a sloppy vampire.

This morning he was lolling awkwardly in the corner of the living room underneath a chair, a position that indicated he had something trapped. Sure enough, either a mouse king or a baby rat was in the corner. And just like a Tom and Jerry cartoon, Phineas was callously toying with it. He would let it run a couple of inches before stepping on its tail. Then he would release the tail only to stop the mouse with his paw. With my interference the poor thing escaped into a basket of stuffed animals, which I then carried out to the porch.

Thank goodness I'm not afraid of rodents. In the past week I have scooped up dead ones, pulled live ones out of the house by their tail and even had an anxious one run across my feet while I was shooshing it out the door with a broom. My mother would be proud ... and repulsed.

Good thing he doesn't bring in spiders.