The Fish Pond

Let Me Explain; No, Too Long, Let Me Sum Up

Carmen did this meme a little while ago, and now Linda put it up on her site, and since I slept through morning mass and have to go tonight instead I might as well use the time to do the meme. So, without further ado:

1. What did you do in 2007 that you’d never done before?
Learned how to juggle having four kids. Went to BlogHer. Took a weekend to myself. Bought a brand new minivan (instead of a used one).

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Well, I made a few babysteps on them. I did make some babysteps toward the clutter issue; we gave away or threw away a ton of stuff, and I learned how to better manage the stuff that comes into the house. I didn't go back on the diet but I did start eating better as a whole, using Carmen's success as a model, and as a result have lost about 20 pounds and kept the downward trend. I also got help with my postpartum depression, and am making babysteps toward being that better mom. I'm not going to make more this year; I just want to continue on a positive trend.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yes, these lovely people just had their second child a week ago. And while I am not close to her, I have been an avid reader of her blog, and Julia just had her twins, too.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yes, unfortunately, you ten regular readers know I lost my beloved grandfather this year.

5. What countries did you visit?
Do you know I've never been out of the country in my life? You do now.

6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?
Better control of my finances. More time to myself. A paying blog or freelance writing job.

7. What dates from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? April 23, the day my grandfather passed.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Setting off on my own to go to BlogHer. Getting Best of Blog Exchange a couple of times.

9. What was your biggest failure? Not recognizing postpartum depression sooner.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nothing serious, just the run of the mill stuff. Plus a busted nose. And mastitis.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Oh, that would have to be this.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
YouTube. The lady at the drive through.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Bill Maher. MySpace. Facebook. President Bush.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Mortgage. Food. Gas.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
BlogHer 2007. My girls' weekend out.

16. What song will always remind you of 2007?
Um...anything in High School Musical 2 (no, I don't get out much).

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
 a) happier or sadder? 
b) thinner or fatter? 
c) richer or poorer?
a) sadder b) thinner c) a bit richer in finances, poorer in spirit

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Live in the moment. Play with my kids. More writing.


19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Yelling, screaming, breaking things.

20. How did you spend Christmas?
Quietly, at home.

21. Did you fall in love in 2007?
Only more deeply with my husband and kids.

22. What was your favorite TV program?
Ninja Warrier or Deadliest Catch.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
I don't hate people; they disappoint me and make me angry, but I don't HATE anyone, with the one exception of my sister's first husband, who beat her. And that's nothing new for 2007.

24. What was the best book you read?
Oooh, toughie. I read a lot. LOT. Probably Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Um, as I mentioned above, I don't get out much, but Uncle Orca sent me a link to this guy, who I think is pretty damn good.

26. What did you want and get? Treatment for PPD. A new minivan.


27. What did you want and not get?
Eternal serenity. A new house. A housekeeper to clean the new house. A personal chef.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?
Um, I don't get out much. Bourne Supremacy, maybe.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I turned 37. I didn't really do anything special on my birthday, but BigDaddyFish and I went out by ourselves, which is always a good thing.


30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Not to have had PPD.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?
Oh, HAHAHAHA. How about Mod Unwashed Mother of Four? Does that cover sweats with breastmilk and spitup stains and mashed bananas on them?

32. What kept you sane?
Therapy. Lots of it.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Fancy? Are we british now? I have a thing for John Cusack, but that's nothing new. In fact, some say my husband looks remarkably like him.


34. What political issue stirred you the most? The Iraq war, even though I don't blog about it. I can't. It's too emotionally charged because my cousin serves in the Navy. The only one I blogged about was breastfeeding, which isn't so much a political issue anymore as a social issue, since it's legal, just a bunch of buttheads don't want women to do it unless they are shut away in a cave.


35. Who did you miss? My grandparents. My mother. My friends that have moved far away.


36. Who was the best new person you met?
I have to name only one? I met so many of my favorite bloggers at BlogHer. I wish I lived closer to them all.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007.
Live in the moment. Slow down. Protect your nose.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year. Livin' la vida loca.

Okay, now your turn. Care to play? Post the link in the comments.

Ringing In the New Year in a Big Way

This was a good van.

We bought it used, four years old, with low mileage. It has brought home two of our babies from the hospital after they were born, taken us safely on several road trips, successfully navigated countless parking lots of doom, rushed us to the ER in the middle of the night when someone couldn't breathe and then back home again, relieved, when modern medicine did its job. It has a kickin' stereo, so BDF didn't feel like QUITE the fuddy-duddy when he drove it. It handled well, more like a car than the van it is. It has been slept in, spilled on, bled on, thrown up in, thrown up around, drawn on, filled with sand and emptied again. It has transported appliances when we couldn't wait for the store to deliver.

It was filled with love and life.

But now it needs a transmission, a repair that costs more than the value of the vehicle. I am not sure what its fate is now; it will either be sold for parts and scrap, or donated to a worthwhile charity (who will then sell it for parts and scrap, I think, due to the aforementioned transmission problem).

So now, now we fill this one. With life.

An '08 Toyota Sienna, with 37 miles on it, most of them put on by us. The van I wanted to buy on Saturday, when we first drove it, before BigDaddyFish lobbied a case for having an 8-passenger van. This one is a 7 passenger. 8-passenger vans are in short supply, and if they had offered us an 8-passenger with the sound system we wanted in a color we didn't find abhorrent we would have bought it. Probably. But they didn't. We could only get the color we wanted, and Thugs R Us seemed unenthusiastic about what it would take to rip out the standard sound system and put in a new one. So BDF began to have fifth tenth second thoughts, and we weighed the benefit of the 8th seat versus the problem of the stereo (yes, we are musicians. Sort of. And we are stereo snobs. Especially Even in our minivan.) So after I killed him in the parking lot of the dealer we discussed it at length, we thanked the nice man for going to Baltimore to get us a van that we decided not to buy, and bought the one I drove on Saturday, the one that felt right, like MY van, the second my ass hit the seat. And told the guy we'd take him out to dinner, and felt especially guilty when his little girls called from home to tell him goodnight for the second time while we were doing our paperwork. It has a good enough sound system, complete with MP3 capability and iPod jack, oh, yeah, and a DVD player. And cloth seats, just like I wanted.

It feels like a present from my grandfather, because his legacy afforded us the down payment. Here's to him, and his love, and really, really smart investments.

Happy New Year, indeed.

I Wish I Could Take Credit for This

I'm sitting and eating potato chips with Cat Vomit Dip (no, you don't make it with cat vomit, it just looks like cat vomit - recipe to follow), and I offer some to Sunny, who has come over for one of her Mommy Re-charge hugs.

"No, Mommy, but can I have some broccoli instead?"

Really, the dip tastes good, and is reasonably healthy, it just looks unappetizing as hell. But I did make her the broccoli, which she and Nemo promptly devoured. Wish their bigger sibs would follow suit.

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Take two cups of baby carrots and slice them very thinly, so that they resemble dimes. Don't slice off your fingers. Top with 3/4 cup of low fat small curd cottage cheese and Catalina salad dressing to taste. Stir well until it resembles, well, something a cat might throw up. It looks hideous, but it does taste good, a point that my college roommate eventually had to concede when I caught her taking a bite behind my back after turning up her nose at it for a year and saying "ooooh, that's good!"

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After test driving and haggling and debating and whatnot, we decided on an 8-passenger Toyota, so we won't have to take two cars any time we need to take my nieces someplace with us. The Honda handled like a dream, more like a sporty car than a minivan, but I didn't fit very well inside it and had a lot more problems with blind spots and with seeing the gauges while I was driving, something I like to do (silly me). So we went with the Toyota. We WANTED one with the upgraded sound system with DVD and bluetooth, but the earliest we could get one is the middle of January, and, well, my transmission is shot now, and I need something earlier. The 8-passengers are going like crazy. So, we are getting an 8-passenger in the proper color without the upgrade stereo, and if the dealer's quote to put it in isn't to our liking, we will, as BigDaddyFish says, take it to Thugz R Us and have it tricked out. So hopefully I should have something safe to transport my kids in sometime around the weekend.

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I had a blue, blue Christmas this year, though I got nice presents and two of my kids proclaimed it the "Best Christmas Ever." I'm just missing my grandfather so very very much and wasn't in a festive mood. My family always gathered at my grandparents' house on Christmas Eve, because my grandmother was a postpartum nurse and always volunteered to work on Christmas Day so that those with young children at home could be there with their kids. This was the first Christmas with them both gone, and last Christmas was so very very painful without my grandmother. I did pull it together enough to stay up til 3 am wrapping presents (what, you think I have time to wrap presents with 4 kids in the house? are you smoking something?) to make it fun for the kids, but not without a river of tears on my part. Next year, to honor my grandfather's memory, we plan to buy a 60lb. bag of peanuts in the shells, put scoops of them in paper sacks, and pass them out to everyone we know and anyone we don't who isn't allergic to peanuts. See here for why. We did get our cans of peanuts this year.

We hope you had a lovely Christmas if that's what you do, and a peaceful day of rest if you don't.

In the Market for a Minivan and Need Your Help: Toyota or Honda?

I have an almost-ten year old Dodge Grand Caravan that I thought I'd never own. I wasn't a "minivan" person. But I am also 4'10", and far too short to drive the other mainstay to large families, the big-honking SUV. So when Little Man was a baby and we needed to upgrade from my Jeep Cherokee (which is remarkably small inside when you have two rear-facing car seats), we bought the van, and I came to love love love that van. We bought it used, with low mileage. I love that I can walk around inside it almost standing up straight (ahem), and I love that I sit up so high when I drive it. It has had some weird quirks; it has an electrical system that is possessed by the devil, and every once in a while it will lose all of my settings and I'll have to fix them, but otherwise it's been a good van. We've filled it with fun and love.

But it is now in its death-throes. The transmission is slipping, and while I have an appointment to put it in the shop in the morning, I have a feeling it is going to take a transmission rebuild. There are several reasons I think this, which I won't go in to here, because it's boring (yes, this post CAN get more boring), but I am reasonably sure this is it for the van. In the past year I've already put about $5K into it, and I just can't see doing that anymore, especially since I have to rent a van every single time I put it in the shop, which has been at least 5 times this year. That money is better put into a new van.

So! We checked out both the new Dodge van and the Chrysler Town and Country, and the '08s are UGLY! They have redesigned them so that they can accomodate a 4.0L engine, because we all need to consume MORE gas, and the front end is now boxy and looks like either a truck or an old Astro van from the 80s. That's not for us. We want a safe vehicle that's big enough to transport all of us and consumes the least amount of gas possible. Oh, yeah, and it has to accomodate short people easily, and I don't mean the kids.

We think we have decided on either the Toyota Sienna or the Honda Odyssey, but really, it's a wash. We can get the features we want on both and the prices are within $2K of each other, and really when you are talking the difference between $29K and $31K it isn't a difference at all, in my mind. Consumer Reports recommends them both, but the Sienna is rated just slightly higher than the Honda. CR does note that the Honda is more "agile" than the Toyota, but the Toyota has a slight edge on reliability.

If you have either of these minivans, what made you choose the one you have? Why do you like it? Is there anything you don't like? Give me the scoop.

Please help, this decision is too important to flip a coin on, and the kids, well, they're kids. All they care about is the DVD player we won't be getting.

Wherein I Maim My Daughter, Thereby Securing My Lock on Worst Mother of the Year Award

This morning was the Christmas party at Sunny's preschool, and in a fit of sleep-deprived madness (par for the course around here) I volunteered to be one of the two parents who come in to "do" the party - make the sign-up sheet to coerce the other parents into contributing food, treats, plates, napkins, cups, juice, and goodies so that we don't have to actually DO anything except show up and do a craft for them help the kids do a craft and sing and eat and wash their hands and go home. I think I was thinking I'd get my volunteerism over with for the year (faulty logic because I'm already the Box Tops coordinator, but whatever) by doing the first party, but I don't remember doing the sign-up at all, anyway. Fortunately, the other mother who did the party is much more on the ball than I am, so she did the sign-up sheet and volunteered to do the craft, so all I had to do was show up.

And I guess, technically, I DID show up. I got a babysitter for Nemo and I took Sunny to school and we got as far as the parking lot. Where I promptly shut the sliding door of the minivan on her wrist.

Oh, the screaming, the tears, the horror. Sunny screamed and cried, too. I jerked the door back open almost immediately, snatched her up in my arms, and collapsed onto the floor of the van, crying and saying "I'm so sorry, where did I get you? I'm so sorry, Sunny, please, show me where I hurt you." I caught her on her wrist.

We dashed into the school so that I could tell them what happened, make arrangements for the party, and get her back out to the pediatrician. The school gave me an ice pack and told me not to worry about the party, and asked me to call to tell them how she was doing. I love our school.

I called the pediatrician, and the office staff told me in no uncertain terms that they had no openings for today and I had to go to the ER. This was the first time I'd ever had this happen in 8 years with these peds, who are some of the best in the DC metro area and whose staff are usually quite accomodating and pleasant. I will have to keep an eye on this, because even if the doctors are awesome, if the staff stinks then it's time to rethink the practice.

As we drove to the local emergency center, Sunny continued to cry and snuffle in her seat, and eventually she snuffled down enough for me to understand what she was saying: "Mommy, can you call and tew dem not to start the party wifout me?" My heart broke a little bit more as I told her that wasn't possible.

We sat outside the emergency center for a while and debated going in or not. It was packed, and I knew we would end up waiting forever, and her wrist, while a bit swollen, was looking better than it had at first look, and she was able to make a fist and use it to push up her other sleeve, so I figured it was going to be okay. I told her I'd take her back to school for the party, and she argued no. So I told her I could take her into the EC and she said no, she wanted to go home. So that's where we went.

On the way home, I asked Sunny why she didn't want to go back to the party, especially when she had wanted me to call them and make them wait. Finally, after much cajoling on my part, she said, "Because you might hurt me again, Mommy." And then I died.

I explained once again that it was an accident, that Mommy hadn't meant to hurt her, and she asked, "Do you pwomise you won't do it again, Mommy?"

Oh, honey, I pwomise.

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She's fine now, all the swelling is long gone, she's using the wrist like normal (i.e., taking toys and hitting her brothers), and there's barely a mark.

I wish my heart would heal that fast.

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There were two bright spots to the day:

1. Nemo was staggering walking around the kitchen today, and he took a pot lid from the open dishwasher, lurched across the kitchen, opened the cabinet, and very carefully placed the pot lid in the cabinet on top of some other pots and pans. Then he turned around and grinned like the Cheshire cat, pleased as can be that he was being helpful. I did not teach him this.
2. I have been getting notes home from Little Man's teacher about his mouthy, disrespectful behavior lately, and we've been perplexed as to how to handle it. As I was putting him in bed tonight, I told him, "Dream dreams of good behavior," to which he responded, "Actually, Mom, I dream of giiiiirls. I looooove girls." Good to know.

Been Caught Stealing, Once, When I Was Eight

Virtually every morning, Trout has a major hissy fit about pants. You see, she is of average height, but she is skinny and her legs are long in proportion to the rest of her body. Finding pants that are both long enough and snug enough is an enormous challenge, not to mention the issues with finding pants that are appropriate for an 8 year old little girl (i.e., aren't skin tight, low slung, hip huggers, without words across the ass). For the past four days or so she has been freaking about her pants - they are either too long, too short, too loose and falling down, too tight and giving her a wedgie, too soft, too scratchy, whatever, and I finally got sick of it and last night took her out to get some new pants.

I made a number of mistakes last night. She had ballet and we didn't have time to go before class, so I should have just made plans to come another day. But I am stubborn if nothing else, and I didn't want to wait until the stores got more filled with people and the stock less, so out we went. Mistake number 2: once I discovered that she had some mild intestinal distress, instead of cutting bait and heading home I simply bought more underwear (which she needed anyway - most of her other underwear "gives me a wedgie"). Mistake number 3: when noticing that there were Webkinz EVERYWHERE and she was getting distracted by them at every turn, I should have left. No. She needed pants, I didn't want to listen to the Pants Lament anymore, so pants we did.

First at JCPenney (where I buy a good portion of the kids' clothes) we probably tried on 15 pairs of pants. She is kinda in between the 4-6X size range and the 7-16 size range, so most 6X's were too short but most 7's were too long and too wide and mostly inappropriate. But we persevered and found a couple of pairs of track pants? thin sweats? something like that, plus a pair of pink velour pants that she adores, all of which she assured me fit great and she wouldn't complain about them. But I wanted her to have something else, a nice pair of jeans or pants, more sturdy than sweats, so we headed to someplace I swore I'd never go - Limited, too. Yeah, that was mistake number 4.

I did have good reasons for heading there. The primary one is that Trout is so skinny, and the clothes at LT are cut really thin, so I figured we'd have better luck there. I HAD, on occasion, seen clothes that were acceptable there, and she already knows my rule about no words and no branding (I don't want my kid being a walking advertisement for some clothing manufacturer) so....

We tried on about 10 pairs of pants there, and we struck gold on a couple of pairs that met my requirements, fit her, and were on sale. I stood at the checkout while she wandered around a bit looking at all the crap that they have in the displays up by the front - you know, all the little crap like rhinestone pin Hello Kitty watches that the stones fall off of in two days, bracelets that turn green, little candies, tchotchke crap. I called her over a couple of times, and each time she came and asked for Webkinz, and each time I told her no. I finally got up to pay for the pants, and while the girl is ringing them up I look over and see Trout put something in her pocket.

My jaw dropped and my heart sank, and then I said, in a loud voice "What ARE you doing? You CANNOT do that. Taking things without paying is STEALING!" She looked at me, wide-eyed, startled, and at least had the decency to look a bit sheepish.

"Alriiiiight, I'll put them back," she sighed, and put one thing back on the rack.

"Empty your pockets," I demanded.

"Aaaww, okay, I'll put the other back." She slunk off to put something else on the rack.

"Now turn them inside out," I instructed. If she hadn't needed the damn pants, I would have apologized to the cashier and left. Yeah, I know, mistake number whatever. I did apologize to the cashier and finished paying for the pants. Trout told me she didn't know how to turn the pockets inside out.

I walked over where she was kinda half-hiding behind a candy display. "Let. Me. See." I ordered.

"All RIGHT Mom, I'll do it!" she shrieked as she pulled yet another candy out of her pocket. This time I just frisked her, finally satisfied that the pockets were empty, and I marched her home. As we walked through the mall she'd ask, "Mom, can I -" and I'd spit out "No!" before she could even ask whatever it was she wanted. Took the whole walk to the car before I could speak normally.

I asked her why she tried to steal those things, and she said she was standing there and "it just made me think to do it." I asked her what about the little voice in her head that tells when things are wrong and not to do them, and she said she didn't have one. I told her she'd better damn sight get one. We talked about how stealing is wrong, how it is dishonest, how if she were caught by someone other than me she'd be going to jail, and how she would feel if someone took her things. We talked about the ten commandments, because she is working on preparing for her first reconciliation (we're Catholic), and I told her that when she steals she not only makes me and BigDaddyFish and the rest of the family sad and disappointed in her, she makes God sad and disappointed in her, too. I reminded her that we'd talked about this before, but she insists she forgot. I hear that excuse at least 10 times a week for various things, and it's old now. I don't buy that.

When I was five, I stole something small from a drug store, a pack of gum or a small toy of some kind - I don't remember what at this point. My mother discovered it when we got home, and she took me right back to the store and made me confess to the manager, who was very nice about it, but still stern, and told me that they would let me off with a warning that time, but if I ever did it again they would have to call the police. I never did it again - the act of having to confess my misdeed to someone in authority was more than enough to keep me from ever being tempted again.

I wonder if I handled things right with Trout. I was loud, intentionally, because I WANTED to embarass her. I did apologize to the clerk, a young girl of probably no more than 17 herself, who looked like she couldn't care less. I guess I felt that since I was the one who caught her and I caught her in progress instead of after a crime had been committed, putting everything back and embarassing her was enough. Now I'm not so sure.

BigDaddyFish thinks that because this was her first offense and because we reacted very strongly, no other punishment is necessary. I'm not so convinced. I think a strong message needs to be sent that this is 100% unacceptable behavior. But I also worry about coming down too hard, about alienating her and pushing her away so that she refuses to learn our values. I don't know if there should be further punishment or not. I don't know if wearing the two pairs of pants I bought will remind her, every time, of the whole incident, and that will help reinforce my point. Maybe it will make her not want to wear the pants at all. Which brings us back where we started.

And wouldn't you know, when she put on one of the pairs of pants from JCPenney this morning, the ones she assured me in the store were perfect, she had a damn meltdown, because they were falling down. I pinned them and sent her on her way.

Finding the balance between pushing hard enough to send a message but not so hard you push them away is the toughest tightrope I've ever had to walk.

Never Going to Happen

Trout's on the phone with BigDaddyFish, who usually calls us to tell us he's on his way home, and I'm cooking dinner and feeding the baby and trying to keep Little Man focused on his homework. BDF asks Trout to ask me when I'm going to show her, Little Man, and Sunny the website for the art school where I want to enroll Trout and he wants me to enroll the other two to save me time out (each kid gets one activity each term. If they all do the same activity, that's only one trip out for me per week - I understand his motivation but I need that time out, I think. But I digress.) even though neither is as interested in art as Trout.

"So, Mommy, when are you going to show us?" she asks, looking at me over the phone, pointedly.

"Well, when your homework is done, dinner is over, and you've cleaned up the house."

She turns back to the phone, sighing, "Dad, it's NEVER going to happen."

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And to add insult to injury, I was tickling Trout last night and she kicked me right in the ol', well, you know. Fortunately it was in the opposite direction, so I think she actually straightened it out a bit. BDF says it's even more crooked than before, though, and I'm having trouble smelling things. Yes, I'll go get it checked out now. After the homework is done, dinner is over, and the house is clean.

Once More, Right in the Ol' Schnozz

I am short, and something that goes along with that is that I have profoundly short arms. When I get shirts that fit really, really well otherwise, the sleeves are always too short. Sometimes, this puts me in danger.

A little over a week ago I was holding Nemo while Uncle Orca and BigDaddyFish were getting the other kids put to bed. I had to come down the hall for some reason, and I was sick of Nemo screaming in his crib (yeah, CIO and getting him moved out of our bed is going SOOOOOO well) so I grabbed him and was holding him in front of me, arm wrapped around him. He wasn't happy with this arrangement and was flailing about, and in the process he rammed his head full force right into my nose, almost as though I had been given an uppercut to the bottom of my nose.

I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't do anything. Uncle Orca saw it and asked if I was okay, I shook my head ever so slightly. Then he asked if I wanted him to take the baby and I nodded, again slightly. He took the baby and I kind of collapsed against our changing table/Nemo's dresser, and when I got my breath back I shrieked "SHIT!!!!" and I hear BigDaddyFish's voice from Little Man's room say, mildly, "That's gonna leave a mark."

I wasn't laughing.

The nose hurt all night long, and I thought for sure it was broken, but no racoon eyes or bruising or bleeding, just pain. Heachaches. Pain. I couldn't blow my nose because the muscle pressure was too painful, not even accounting for having to touch my nose to do it. I couldn't go to the doctor because 1. I don't have a regular doctor, and 2. I was too busy with kids to be able to get away, because the girls decided to get diarrhea and were home from school this week, plus it snowed at inconvenient times so Trout didn't have ballet, either. Anyway, I didn't get to the doctor, and it continued to hurt and hurt.

Air on my face hurt. Blowing my nose hurt. I would wake myself up by rolling over and grazing it slightly with the pillow. People kept telling me, unsolicited, that it was crooked.

Monday Sunny had taken her shoes off in the car, and as I bent over to put the shoes back on her so she could walk into the house, you guessed it, she kicked me square in the face, twice, just kicking her legs around. I sat on the edge of the car, writhing around in the street, seeing stars, and screaming. You would think this would attract someone's attention, but no. Hope I never get attacked in front of my house.

Then, in the final coup de grace, two nights ago I was adjusting Little Man in his bed, because he has a tendency to helicopter and had spun himself around to where his head was against the wall and his legs were hanging off the bed, and in the course of me fixing him he swung his arm back and elbowed me full force in the nose. I dropped him and started screaming. Eleven pm and I'm on my knees next to Little Man's bed, screaming and yelling and crying and holding my face, and wouldn't you know, none of the kids woke up. Not one, and certainly not the one who had inflicted the damange. BDF came running, but I was beyond help.

Still, no black eyes, no blood. But it's crooked, and swollen, though that's getting better today, and I can touch it again without wincing.

"You need to do a better job protecting your nose," says BDF. I didn't punch him in the nose, though the thought certainly crossed my mind.

Maybe I need to get a hockey mask.

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In other news, I won Best of Blog Exchange again, though they were ALL wonderful posts, and I was quite surprised to have won. Go here to see them again.

In the Moment

Yesterday it snowed here. Some other time I'll talk about what DC is like in the snow, where people freak the hell out at the sight of a single snowflake and fortify their houses as though for a 40 year famine. Yesterday they were calling for "up to an inch of snow" and, as usual, we got about three. The big kids were at school, I was cold and tired and grouchy, so the littles and I were hunkered down in my front room with the television on, and I was trying to figure out how I was going to get a nap in without the little kids destroying the house while I did it.

Some sort of nonsense song came on, and Nemo started to shake his little booty, grinning and giggling like the concept of a simple booty shake was the greatest thing in the world. Sunny joined in, she too giggling and grinning, so I hopped up and shook my big ol' booty, too. The snow continued to fall softly, gently, outside cold and gray and silent. Inside was warmth and song and movement and joy.

"Mama, let's do Ring Around the Rosie," urged Sunny, so we each took one of Nemo's hands and we held hands, me on my knees to take care of my back, and around we went, singing and gently tugging Nemo around in a circle, collapsing in a great heap of giggling and tickling on "all fall down." We did it two more times, and after the third time we lay there on the floor, Sunny, Nemo, and I, and it occurred to me, briefly, that I was happy, and it was not the first time in the last month or so that has happened.

Happy.

Recovery is, indeed, possible.

Stoking the Fires

Every year, on the two weekends following Thanksgiving, there is a craft show at the Frederick County Fairgrounds, and for most years for the past decade my friend Fish-Flopper and I have gone to the show, most times a break for me without the kids. We always have a great time, we eat what we want, and it's still hot, and no one is trying to get our attention. She is one of my before-kids friends, and has no kids herself. We used to work together, but haven't for a few years now, and since she lives in another state we don't see each other very often anymore. For whatever reason, we never seem to make plans well in advance of the craft show, and I don't know why because it's not like we don't know when it's going to be. We'll have to plan now for next year. Anyway, this year she couldn't go, so I asked BigDaddyFish if he wanted to go.

He did, and we went. We got a sitter starting at 10 am (thanks, Uncle Orca) and went to the craft show. We ate what we wanted. We idly looked at everything there, mostly repeats for me, but all new to BDF. We walked and talked and laughed and joked around. We did a ton of Christmas shopping, with a few things for ourselves. When we were done at the craft show, it was nearly sundown, and we drove around the wonderful city of Frederick, where we used to live and which we both still love. We bonded. We ran home for a quick check-in, and then went to a Japanese steakhouse for dinner. When we first drove by, it was packed to the gills, so we drove around and went to the train tracks and saw a train. We went back to the steakhouse, and had this conversation:

"We drove around so long that I don't want to eat here anymore."

"What?"

"I don't. I'm not in the mood anymore."

"Well, where do you want to eat?"

"Home."

"HOME?! But, there's kids there, and we have no meat."

"Well, we have meat. It's in the freezer."

"Yes, but that would make it FROZEN SOLID."

"Yeah, I guess it's a little too cold to grill out."

"Ya think? Come on, I got my heart set on the vegetables, and the meat, and the soup, and the salad. PLEEEASE?"

So we went in. As we were walking in, I happened to look in the window and see what looked like a familiar head to me.

"Hey, that looks like Minnow and Mr. Minnow!" We walked a bit further and I looked again. "It IS the Minnows!"

And so it was. So we went out, to the Japanese steakhouse, had a fabulous dinner, and got to sit with friends of ours. Grown ups. We had grown up conversation, and a wonderful meal.

And when we went home, our lovely, lovely children were sound asleep. And so we went to sleep ourselves, rejuvenated.