1) No pantyhose required. No dress code at all. I can wear my scuffy slippers all day, even in the back yard, if I want.
3) Occasionally, babies nap at the same time, the kids are in school and I have an unannounced break. Like now.
4) No obnoxious co-workers.
5) I can’t get fired.
6) I can doze on the job and no one notices, except for Babygirl who will then jab her finger into my nose.
7) Lunch is free, every day. Sort of.
8) If it’s an unexpectedly beautiful day, I can spend it outdoors.
9) My kids never have to go to daycare. I never have to pay for daycare. I never have to call in sick when the kids are sick. I never have to go to an office and worry about my sick kids.
10) No gasoline or car required to get to work.

Within this past week, a local 9 year old girl was kidnapped from her bus-stop after school. The abductor was a 32 year old man. He borrowed fifty cents from the child and called her parents with a ransom demand. Then he bound her with tape and put her face down in the back seat of the car and then proceeded to lead the police on a wild car chase down major freeways before he was caught and the child was rescued.

But that’s not what interested me.

A few weeks earlier, this same guy attempted to abduct a 63 year old woman in the same area. I saw her on television last night. She was one of those really beautiful woman who either aged gracefully or has a great plastic surgeon. She said she was walking her dog, Buddy, when this man jumped out of a van and pointed a gun at her head and told her to get in.

She said, “No.”

He repeated his demand and she said louder, “NO!”

And that, my friends, was the end of that. Apparently, the loser just got into the van and drove away. She reported the attempt to the police and gave a very good description and that’s how they realized that this guy was the same guy who kidnapped the girl. He confessed to the attempted abduction, too, after he was caught by the police.

This 63 year old woman is my new hero.

Just say “no.”

No, this is not an entry about sperm. Or salmon. It’s about me, as usual, unlike most everything else in my life.

Anyway, I find great humor in the fact that today, just tonight, two separate people mentioned how much they loved, loved, loved “Jersey Girl,” the movie that I saw and despised last night. Now, either something is fundamentally wrong with me (nah, not possible) or I truly am a movie snob or (and this is most likely) . . . the world as we know it is coming to an end.

BEANSTALKS

My kindergartener brought home a plant from school yesterday. His styrofoam cup was bursting with plants over six inches tall. He enthusiastically informed me that his was the biggest plant in his class. I said, “It is! Wow!” and he said, “Yes, because the teacher said to plant three seeds and I accidentally planted fifteen or twenty.”

He apparently did not get into any kind of trouble when his fifteen beans began to sprout. I wonder if his teacher laughed out loud like I did.

Did you ever wonder how grammatically sound are you?
Click here on this . . . Quizilla. . . and find out.

I did and this is what it said:

You are a MASTER of the English language!

While your English is not exactly perfect,
you are still more grammatically correct than
just about every American. Still, there is
always room for improvement…

What a wacky morning.

First of all, Babygirl woke up at about 5:00 a.m. I nursed her and she went back to sleep, so I did, too. Then my husband got up early so he could take the youth pastor candidate and his wife back to the airport (about 45 minutes from us). I finally dragged out of bed at the last possible minute, showered and came downstairs by 7 a.m. No one else was awake.

I woke the boys at 7:20 a.m. Waited for DaycareKid to arrive. He always arrives before 7:30 a.m. At 7:30 a.m. on the dot, his mother calls to tell me he had a rough night and his daddy was letting him sleep in before he would drop DaycareKid off. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with him–she thought he was feverish but his temperature was normal and she wondered if he was constipated and had a tummy-ache.

At 7:40 a.m. YoungestBoy woke up and ran downstairs to watch his normal 7:30 a.m. show. He was upset that he missed ten minutes of it.

Someone picked up the boys for school at 8:05 a.m.

Then my husband calls. He’s at the airport, in the drop-off, no-parking zone and our car won’t start. And this is our “good” car, the 1993 Mercury Sable. (The 1992 Buick Park Avenue with 265,211 miles is now for sale. Anyone want a car?) Luckily, we belong to “Drive America”, some auto-service club connected with Union 76 that I joined just to get the free $20 worth of gas they offered. I have been meaning to cancel the membership, but haven’t yet. So, I called them and arranged for the car to be towed. My husband couldn’t do this because he didn’t have a pen in the car and couldn’t memorize the membership numbers and toll-free phone number and all. The woman from “Drive America” called him, though to confirm his location and we were all set.

Then Babygirl woke up.

A bit later, DaycareKid arrived.

Then, my husband calls to say the car started. Could I please cancel the tow-truck?

He took the car to a mechanic and called to report he was walking down the street toward a restaurant and that he’d have his secretary or friend pick him up and take him to his office. Then later, he called from his office to say that he and K. were going to visit J. in the hospital. Then later, he called to say he was going to someone’s home to look at free books (a minister is retiring). Later on, he called again to say that our friend will be bringing our boys home from school.

Babygirl skipped her nap today. Daylight Savings time has confused her.

She’s watching Teletubbies right now. There was a report today that said children who watch television between the ages of 1 and 3 have increased chances of developing Attention Deficit Disorder, which of course, makes me think 1) I am a horrible mother and the reason that TwinBoyB cannot pay attention in school and 2) Thank God for children’s programming. Without it, I would be insane. Yes, I use the television for a “babysitter” sometimes. So sue me.

Oh. And big news. During one of the ten jillion phone calls today from my husband, he mentions that he’s thinking about going down to the Humane Society to pick out a mutt for the kids. I am staying out of this. I want no responsibility or blame for picking out a “bad” pet.

Next week is Spring Break. My husband decided today that maybe he’ll take the week off. I wonder if his week “off” will be anything like his day “off” today?

Sore throat: Gone.
Baby: Crabby and sick? I couldn’t get her to stop crying this afternoon.
Dishes: Washed.
Emailbox: Empty.
Family room: Cluttered.
Living room: Couch cushions in disarray.
Laundry: Folded basket on couch, lightbulb burned out, dirty clothes, wrinkled clothes.
Eyes: Contacts now in for 15 hours. Optometrist would be displeased.
Kitchen floor: Disgusting.
Easter: Oh no, coming on Sunday!
Bills: Paid.
Checkbook: Balanced.
Children: Sleeping, apparently healthy.
Husband: Sleeping, exhausted from too much work. Driving youth pastor candidate and wife to airport at 7 a.m.
Cat: Missing, again.
Chocolate: Gone.
Newspaper: Unread.
Exercise: None.
Vegetables consumed: None.
Fruit consumed: None.
Backyard: Weedy.
Brain: Dim.
Bed: Waiting.

My kindergartener told me he had a terrible day at school. It was picture day and he told me the photographer made him say “I love you” and all his classmates laughed at him (except for his friends). I kept questioning him and he told me more and more and I was trying to be motherly and helpful by saying, “Well, sometimes people aren’t laughing at you, they’re laughing with you.” And he said, “No, they were laughing at me.”

We talked at length and then he finally grinned and said, “April Fools!” He was so pleased that he “got me.”

TwinBoyB brought a friend home with him from school. He and Dustin played basketball outside, rode bikes around the block, played the piano. For two hours, they played and played. The second Dustin left at 5:30 p.m., TwinBoyB grabbed his forehead and declared he was sick, very very sick.

I laughed. He said, “Mom, don’t laugh at me.” Apparently, he is actually sick? Why can’t my kids all be sick at the same time? Why do we have to drag it out for weeks and weeks? Please, please let this be an April Fools joke.

TwinBoyb later said, “Mom, sometimes I worry that when I’m dead I will really miss you.” I said, “When you are dead?” Tears filled his eyes. “Yes, and it makes me really sad.” Then YoungestBoy piped up and said, “Yes, I’ll miss you, too, when I’m dead!”

I said, “Hey, I’m not going to die until I’m an old woman and you won’t die until you’re an old man.” God, please let that be true!

On a completely-not-joking note, my throat still hurts, though a bit less than yesterday. I might survive this sore throat.

I was right.

The home we visited tonight was all about marble and stainless steel. The kitchen counters were black marble and the stove was gas and featured a griddle and a grill, in addition to the burners and two separate ovens. The floor was bamboo, smooth, shiny and blond. Windows everywhere, twinkling lights on islands across the water. If you woke up in the master bedroom, you’d be looking at the Puget Sound. The master bathroom has heated floors, a shower with three nozzles that is bigger than my closet and a giant tub. Downstairs is his office and her “play room” which features large, expensive weight-training systems and a sauna.

We ate pork tenderloin and baked squash with dried cranberries and challah bread and fancy salad that seemed to have dandelion leaves in it.

The company was not so interesting. The dinner was hosted in honor of the youth pastor candidate and his wife, and frankly, they were kind of dull. At one point, the young man (who is balding, but that is neither here nor there) started rattling off a bunch of books he’s read: Howard’s End, A Room with a View–I can’t remember the others–and so I said, “Do you read for pleasure?” and he paused for just a second and said, “No.” Those were all books required for a college class. We did talk a bit about books, then–the host mentioned his wife’s book club and I was intensely jealous that she belongs to this long-standing book club. She talked about how these women have been with each other through crises and life situations for years and years . . . and I thought, “Where is MY book club? Where are my friends? I want a support system!” She described a couple books and I asked what they were–one, in particular, she mentioned that she hated, but she claimed not to remember what it was.

I felt a little bad when I’d realize that I was completely ignoring the youth pastor candidate couple, but they were so boring. She, apparently, loves sports and NASCAR racing. Oh dear. She didn’t wear any make-up and had a huge pimple on one cheek. He kept hijacking the conversation to ramble on and on in his North Carolina accent. Oh dear. They did not make a good first impression on me.

But I would have happily sat and discussed books with the hostess while sitting on her lush leather couch and feeling warmth from the gas-burning fireplace (which was surrounded with marble that matched the kitchen). The fireplace is two-sided, so if you step out onto the patio, you can also sit by the fire and be warmed.

The youth pastor couple mentioned that she just found out she is pregnant, which is joyous news, but on the other hand, there is no way they can live in this area on the salary that we can offer. The salary sort of necessitates a working wife. So, I have no idea what will happen. I guess there is another couple to interview next week. The dinner ended before 9 p.m., because they were exhausted from their long trip from Pennsylvania. Apparently, they left at 1 a.m., Pennsylvania time.

———————————————————————

This morning, the entire family was presentably dressed by 10 a.m. We went to the church to have our portrait taken for the church directory. They give you a free 8×10 and then sell you additional pictures at exorbitant prices. Although Babygirl hates people and new situations, she did not cry, so we managed to get an acceptable picture. Babygirl and I came home while my husband took the kids to the local Mexican restaurant for lunch. I didn’t think Babygirl would cooperate, so we had a can of soup.

My husband dropped the kids off and went to the church to participate in the interviewing process. I didn’t see him again until after 5 p.m. I spent my day cleaning out Babygirl’s closet and taking the boys and Babygirl for a walk to 7-11 to get Slurpees. I even got Babygirl a small one, half-full. That 79 cent Slurpee bought her complete happiness and contentment for quite a long time. When we got home, the boys watched the t.v. shows I had taped for them from the morning and I went in the front yard with Babygirl. We eventually walked around our circle, which is about a tenth of a mile, but which took a long, long time. I had my cell-phone on and called the boys half-way through to make sure they hadn’t burned the house down or anything.

Babygirl has developed an obsession with rocks that some people use in their yards, the small, smooth, round rocks. She spends a great deal of time crouched down, studying the rocks before she picks out just the perfect rock to hold for five minutes. I remember YoungestBoy being the same way. Even if he was in the stroller, he’d beckon to the rocks and I’d have to pick one out for him.

When we finally came inside again, I returned to the bedroom closet and sorted through more clothing and shoes. I have two tubs of baby clothes that I will probably eBay, but not now. I just don’t have time now. I have clothes to give my neighbor, clothes to give my nephew, and a giant black garbage bag to just give to Value Village. It’s always a good feeling to purge the house of stuff.

Because garage-sale season is coming. *wink*

Babygirl loves to stand on the bathroom counter while I attempt to disguise the circles under my eyes and tame my wild hair. I buy her cooperation by sharing various cosmetics. The other day, I gave her eye shadow. She wanted it opened. I flipped it open.

To my utter amazement, she put eye shadow on her eyelids. She looked bruised when she was finished. She has also curled her eyelashes and powered her nose. Her dad asked me later, “Does she have a bruise around her eye?” I said, “Oh, no, she’s just wearing eye-shadow” as if that is a normal thing for an 18 month old to do.

This morning, Babygirl insisted on stepping into the shower with me. Then she got annoyed that the water kept spraying in her eyes. She’d gesture towards the towel and when I put it in reach, she’d dab her face with it. Mind you, she was completely dressed. I tried to shower and use my body to block the spray, but as it turns out, it’s fairly complicated to shower with a small person at your feet who is trying to stay dry. She finally left the shower wailing her unhappiness.

Me and my shadow. Speaking of Shadow the Cat–today I strolled Babygirl over to the neighbor’s house to ask her if we could retrieve some of our balls from her back yard. As we were chatting at her front door, our cat, Shadow, came up and she said, “Oh, is this your cat?” and I said, “Yes. He’s overly friendly.”

Using that as his cue, he slipped into her house! After we tossed the balls over the back yard fence, she met us at the back door, with Shadow prancing behind her, tail flying high. When she handed him to me, he was purring. He apparently didn’t get the memo about cats being skittish and leary of new places. Weirdo.

My entire front yard needed a haircut today. So, when my husband took my baby for a long walk, I dragged out the big aluminum ladder and the electric hedge-trimmer and trimmed away. I trimmed the laurel hedges, the other wild bush next to the laurels, then moved on to the boxwood along the front of the house. Then I topped the evergreen bushes near the front door and finished up by edging the ivy all along the driveway. I filled the whole yard waste container and then swept the driveway.

All that work, and you can’t tell I did anything. Trimming the yard–just like getting my boys haircuts–is one of those invisible tasks. You only notice if it’s not done. I hate that.

The twins both have colds.

We got the kids a new basketball hoop for the backyard, plus two new bikes–one for TwinBoyA and one for YoungestBoy.

Babygirl has suddenly added a bunch of new words to her vocabulary. I discovered she says her own name. Other new words include: nose, ear, hair, cold, dark, bike, ‘side (outside), car. She was full of energy and good cheer today–finally feeling perfectly healthy after suffering from her cold for a solid three weeks.

And now, with that random report, I’m heading to bed to read.