42 1/2 Inches

The inches keep stacking up. The penciled in lines along the bathroom door frame keep getting higher and higher. My daughter just keeps growing. The planes and angles in her face subtly shifting and changing with each passing month. Her laughter keeps deepening. Her reasons for giggling change. She can do handstand forward rolls and bridge kick-overs. Her mathematic ability and her ability to reason keep growing.
It has been so amazing being here and being her Mama on the sidelines watching her grow and change. Its like watching a speeding train.
I want it to stop. It won't though. She will just keep growing and changing and eating up life. She wakes up every day with a smile on her face and a go get 'em state of mind. I want it all to stop..and yet... And yet I am sitting here waiting breathlessly for the next stage of awesome.
I can't wait to see how this girl will take the life that was given to her and live it. I can not wait to see who she is in 10 years, in 15 years...
She is like a white, hot light that fills you up and makes you believe in Santa and Fairies and mermaids.
She is incandescent.
Look out world, she's coming.
Ready or not, she's coming.

Here's to you Kepler 16b

NASA has discovered the first circumbinary planet!
It's Tatooine!!
This Universe is vast and amazing and so much cooler than we could ever imagine.

Tatooine aka Kepler 16b

NASA sez...

Oh my little geek heart is singing a song!
What song you ask?

 Why, THIS  song, of course!




And if you don't know what Tatooine is? Shame on you.
But you can get your daily dose of geek factoidery right here:
Factoidery
 I love it when the best of human imaginings match up with the design of the Universe.
Don't you?

Time at the beach is time well spent.

September 11

It is so very hard for me to take my memories and emotions from this day and set them to words. The words have all been said before and by people who can say them more eloquently than I. The emotions, even after 10 years are too raw and tangled for me to be able to do anything with.

We took our time yesterday, time for reflection and grief. We spoke the words that we hold in most every day of the other 364 days of the year. That day. The War. The loss. The pain. The big hole that is left in the skyline and in our hearts.

And then we did what we do every year, we tried to get back to normal because what else can we do?

The Price of Adventure

Well, one step forward, two steps back.
We moved Liam into a toddler bed when we moved here to the new house. Big mistake. He was not really ready and though it caused no real emotional issues we did have, shall we say, issues of the wandering out in the morning and playing in the cat litter variety. So I had to devise an alarm system for his door. After a week or so, he stopped wandering out of his room. Great. I took the bells off and we have chugged along with no other issues.
Or so I thought.
Three days ago, I put Liam down for a nap and then went in to take a shower. When I was drying off, I heard him yelling his, sweet and innocent, "Mama". The call that says, I slept and now I am sitting here and waiting for you to come and get me and hug me and tell me what a good boy I am.
But he didn't, he wasn't and he most definitely wasn't.
Here's the scene when I walked into his room:
Toy box open and toys strewn everywhere.
Fan off.
Light on.
Kid in the middle of the room with a gun in one hand and a shit-eating grin on his face.
You guys? I know how he plays and I can tell you that he was out of that bed and causing mayhem from the time the door hit its frame as I was on my way out. He got in trouble and seemed contrite so I thought we had this issue settled.
Silly Rabbit . . . Trix are for kids.
Tonight.
Bedtime routine.
All goes well.
Les and I are just sitting down to a movie when Ev comes down the hall and says, "Guys, Liam is in my room." And we were all like, "Aww hells no."
But he was.
As we walked down the hall, we saw this little figure dart into Liam's room and try to close the door. We got there, opened the door and what to our wondering eyes appeared?
Well it was one little man and another gun.
The light was on.
The fan was off. The curtains were opened.
His step stool was out.
Yes.
Yes, he got out of bed, illuminated the scene, played, got bored, and decided to go get Sissy.
Looking back, it was the getting Sissy that did him in. He forgot she works for the Other Team.
Now, the Little Recidivist is back in his crib.
Considering the Refinement of his techniques and the fact that he went down the criminal spiral from a Misdemeanor to Mischief with Intent, it had to be done.

We had him stand there and watch as we took his big boy bed out and reconstructed his crib at 10 pm. Yes we did. The fact that we made him watch does not make us mean but, the fact that we enjoyed it? Well, that MIGHT qualify as Cruel and Unusual, but he had a tough Judge and a Public Defender.

It Has Begun

Last Friday was our first day of school. I will confess to being underprepared and a bit on the unenthusiastic side. Not my student! She was up at the crack of dawn getting ready. Bless her little heart, she had he bed made, her dress on, her hair done and a little bag packed by about 7:45 am. She happily came to the family room and jumped into the school year. I think it's going to be a good year.
Liam remembers the routine a bit and he was a bit easier to wrangle and keep out of her hair as she worked. Ev seems to remember the difference between our regular realtionship and the teacher/student realtionship. I think she is also aware of how close she came to being out into public school this year, so she is rather appreciative.
Les and I will catch up on the planning end as I am deadly serious about not winging it 90% of the time this year. I want to have time to have fun, and have lots of projects and experiments. I mean, we are getting to do Earth Science this year and that thrills the geek hearts that beat in the chest of her father and I!
I do not have a complete list of our curriculum yet, as we are still trying to figure out a few things but I will post about that soon. I do know that in about 3 weeks we are having Family Olympics complete with togas and laurels and Greek food! (shhh! no one tell Ev she doesn't know)
We are also still coming to terms with the environment of our little school as well. I need a good table like surface, some storage and more book shelves. Anyone have any good ideas?

So here she is, my big Second Grader!

Slicing Pineapples

It seems like one of those kitchen duties that should slide by without notice, a thing you do and just move on. The thing is, I love slicing a fresh pineapple, and when I am at that task, you will probably catch me standing there, slicing and chopping, making a huge pineapply mess with a dreamy look on my face and a smile on my lips.
It's the power of smell you see. It's the memories that rise up as I smell that fresh pineapple.

As I slice into the fruit and that scent drifts up and hits my nose, I am transported. I am taken all of the way back to a dark summer night in 2004 and I am in a car. It is dark as pitch and I am with Les, the windows are down and we are cruising about in Hawaii, he's driving. There is soft music playing and we are talking and laughing like we do most anytime that we are together.We are driving up the road and then, suddenly the most delicious scent of pineapples wafts into the car. The air was thick with that sweet, sweet smell. We were driving by a pineapple plantation and it was...amazing. That smell in the night air. My husband there next to me.

I don't even remember what we were talking about. I can make a guess that some of it had to do with the little girl we were waiting to meet- alot of it actually. But I know there were other topics, and silly jokes and a fair smattering of sarcastic commentary.

I love that he has been with me for 17 years- that I can always count on him, that he is the perfect fit for me. Our life has changed so much since that dark night when we smelled the pineapples, but many things are the same. The way I feel for him, how I still like to drive around at night with the music low and air rushing in the windows and talk to him -I don't think those things will ever change.

When I slice a pineapple, I remember just how cool it is to be his wife. And that's why I buy fresh pineapples and go through the trouble of slicing them when no one here really likes to eat them.

Surviving Irene

Well, we did it. We survived.
For the record, we did evacuate for no good reason. Oh ok, if you want to call the "better safe than sorry" mentality a good reason, I'll give you that. Despite all of my lollygagging and complaining that was my ultimate thought- "better safe....and all that jazz."

So, in a sort of homage to refugee life, I am about to lay out the top few things NOT to do in a hurricane induced hotel stay of 72 hours.

*Do not forget a bag of toys for the two year old in your party. This will ultimately be your Doom. Yes. Yes it will.

*Do not forget rain gear. Because? You know? In a hurricane? It (bleeping) rains.

* Do not opt out of the whole , "Should I pack a cooler?" thing. Trust me, you will end up schlepping around in the rain (with no rain gear) re-buying the exact shit you have at home,  in your fridge.

*Do not bypass that Dollar Store trip that you told the 7 year old would happen. She WILL remember and her lamenting a lack of glo sticks over a 72 hour period is only slightly less annoying than having a completely strung out and bored 2 year old.

*Do not forget your razor. Hairy legs are NOT the new black.

*Do not book a hotel room online until you figure out if it is two doors down from a porn den complete with peep shows. This may be tricky but, the driving around Philly with every other family that is fleeing the storm trying to secure a room experience will force you to research more carefully next time.

And that's it. We are back home now, with some yard clean up and no damage.
And toys! There are toys here! And a few glo sticks rattling about the joint. And pillows that don't dissolve with the slightest amount of head pressure.
Ahh home.

Evacuation

I was just saying to myself, "Self don't you want to pack up your family and go sit in a hotel room all weekend?"
And I answered, "No"
But it seems that Irene and the United States Coast Guard and the Governor of New Jersey all had other ideas.
So we are packing now to bug out and sit it out.

Hopefully we will all feel silly come Monday morning.
The alternative is to have evacuated for a good cause which means potential loss of life and property for this area.
Yep. Let's do this for nothing, then.

See you all on the other side of Irene.

Herpetology 101

...or "How Evelyn Handles Snakes"

Step 1 Let your cat flush out a snake. Any snake will do but, psychologically the "gardener" snakes are best.

Step 2 Scream loudly for your Papa to come and rescue the snake from the clutches of your cat.

Step 3 Frantically locate one of your "snake jars" with help from your Mama or your Papa

Step 4 Begin your side lecture to your younger brother. Your topics should include, but should not be limited to: general safety with glass jars, cold blooded reptiles and proper temperatures for them, collection of habitat decor, snake safety, not looking too long at the snake....etc. etc. etc. ...

*Please note that Steps 1 through 4 have left a certain 7 year old with absolutely no actual physical contact with specimen.

*Also note that is completely acceptable to ignore your mother's calls to take note of the earthquake that is shaking the house because you have a freaking snake in a jar. (true story that.)

Step 5 to... whenever your parents have had enough and release the snake before it dies of fright or suffers internal injuries from your brother shaking the jars when you are not looking.

                                                                      Who?? Me??
Some additional tips:
 >You may, at some point, cautiously reach out and lay the veeereee tip of a single finger on the snake. (While Papa holds it of course. A good Herpetologist never actually holds the snake. Are you mad?!)

                                                        Ummmm? Well. No. Thank. You.

                                                              Well....Umm...Still, "No".

                                                       "Aggghh. OK. Just... Hold it ok Papa?"

>Taking time to sit and draw a lifelike portrait of your specimen to be laid along side it's release spot is always a nice touch. A Hostess Gift of sorts.

>Just enjoy your time spent with one of nature's most squiggly members.

This post brought to you by a Papa that has loved snakes since he was a boy with a snake in a jar himself. All those looonnngg years ago.

Please Send Help

Please. Please someone tell me if it's normal for a girl child of 7 to be experimenting successfully with Passive Aggressive Commentary.
I would love to know.
I thought the first PA (passive aggressive) comment was a one off, so I just sort of looked at her quizzically and shuffled off.
The second PA comment was met with a bit of, "Whaaa...?"
The third PA comment was when I had to wake up and smell the coffee.

 Ev's PA Takedowns go along these lines:
Dinner is served.
She makes a slight face (open dissent at the dinner table is prohibited).
She eats while asking a question about your prep, like, "How long do you cook noodles?"
You, in all of your ignorant glory, answer her.
She huffs.
She eats- not alot- but enough.
After she eats, she asks for fruit.
She eats the fruit while happily chattering away about her day so you are lulled into a place of unsuspecting contentedness.
Then, when she sees you are relaxed and enjoying things, then- and only then- just she lets fly The Zinger.
"I sure do love fruit. You know? It's like, you never have to worry about how long you should have cooked it. It's always perfect"

sidenote: apparently al dente noodles are considered "raw" in her book.

Right?!?!?! The first time I thought, "Wow. That was eerily similar to a passive aggressive volley." Silly woman. Silly unsuspecting woman.
I should have known better.

So then,  how to handle a 7 year old with a perfect and stunning grasp of passive aggressiveness?
Anyone?
Bueller?

No really. Leave a comment, call, e-mail, messenger pigeon, text, telegram, smoke signal. ANY advice would be appreciated.

It Rained and Washed the Boredom Away

No Pictures Again?!?

I know! I have been struggling with a terrible migraine- this is Day 5. That's fun. No really. It's eff-yoo-en. Before that however, I have just been in a picture slump. And I need to get my rear in gear as Ev got a new dress from Granmaw and I know The Big G wants a picture of her in it; we are gearing up for Liam's last visit with a Social Worker,and that requires a specific set of pictures; and I just need to be documenting the cuteness that is Ev's toothless smile.  So yeah- I'll try to get right on that whole picture thing as soon as someone takes that ax out of my head...

I also have a question. Why does it seem like folks put in jobs never quite know how to do their own job?!?!?! This has affected my life in so many ways- I am afraid to count it all up. But let's see:
My favorite show of incompetence so far has been when my nephew's Day Care decided it would be ok to out him in the car of a 16 year old girl and transport him from one location to another- with no car seat available. OH! And no one bothered to call my sister either and the only way that we know about it and thus can do something about it, is because my Mom got back to the school before he did.

I also am loving how I had to go through the rigamarole of filing a grievance to the insurance company because of the inability of folks on that end to do their job. No really that was like 5 people messing things up and in reality one mistake was ongoing for nearly 4 years!

I am currently wrangling to get my son the Speech Therapy he needs and simultaneously attempting to get myself in to see a specialist. This means that I am in an  endless cycle of "he said, she said"  between four Doctor's offices and the Insurance Company. It goes like this, the Speech Facility needs A,B, and C done in a certain order but the "Referral Specialist" at the peds office is like "whaa? Huh??? Oh no. I am very good at my job, just look at me being brusk with you. " And I am calling and laying things out for her and the other office tells me that Step B is not done yet and ....it's endless. And this is not the first time that this Referral Specialist has sent a patient to this facility for speech. AAANNNDDD according to the Speech Facility, it's not the first time she has had to be walked through the process. Niiice.
Then I try to get my stuff in order, because It's been like 2 weeks and no Authorization yet. The Insurance says, "You don't have Authorization because we never got a request." GAAAHHHH!!!! So I call the Doctor's Office and SHE says, "Well, I have letters of Authorization already on file for you" and.... I went blind.

No really. I swear to you, I experienced 5 entire minutes of Hysterical Blindness. I am glad it cleared up because I don't know how I would have managed to call 500 people to get in to see a Hysterical Blindness Specialist while Hysterically Blind.