Ode to Alone

Posted on August 12, 2011 by Shoes

Alone mamma?
In the singular Mamma!
quiet as can be. Mamma, where are you!?!
I think that I almost forgot the sound made by a ticking clock. 

Being a stay at home mom to two rowdy boys ages five and three means that, while I can’t say never, I am almost never alone.  Alone is something I find I miss an awful lot.  At the end of most days, I have to grit my teeth together to keep from yelling “WHAT DO YOU WANT NOW?!?” when I hear for what must to the one millionth time “Hey mamma!!”  Sometimes I just can’t grit my teeth quite hard enough and the words slip past anyway.

For me, this year, the end of summer and the beginning of fall have an entirely new and wonderous meaning.  Yeah, yeah the leaves will change beautiful colors and fall in dizzying spirals from the treetops.  The air will have a sense of crispness, much like the exact moment you sink your teeth into a freshly picked gravenstein apple.  The days shorten.  There is caramel corn to eat and pumpkins to carve. 

Pretty leaves and all that jazz.

Whatever.  This year, unlike any year in the past, both boys will have some sort of school to attend at the same time.  I will have a glorious three hours and thirty-five minutes (if I have the bus schedules figured out correctly).  All.To.Myself.  Alone, alone, alone!!  My inner child is currently turning cartwheels and leaping up into the air clicking her heels together.  There is only the tiniest bit of guilt surrounding this glorious feeling of joy but I can write about that another day.  For now I am embracing the thought of alone.

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A New Scientific Discovery: Householdfilm

Posted on August 10, 2011 by Shoes

Merriam Webster defines clutter as (noun)

1 a:  a crowded or confused mass or collection
   b:  things that clutter a place
 

Merriam defines biofilm as (noun)

    :  a thin usually resistant layer of microorganisms (as bacteria) that form on and coat various surfaces
 

I would like to propose, for a moment that perhaps, just perhaps, a melding of these two has taken place in households across America.  Or maybe just my house.  Clutter in our house, like biofilm, attaches itself to a solid substrate and proliferates  In our house that substrate may be a table a countertop or the seat of a chair.  The first colonists, be it an innocent looking paperclip or a grocery store receipt, are weak and can be easily removed.  If left alone these items rapidly grow and divide.  In a biofilm this is called a quorum sensing.  The strength of a biofilm is in its ability to communicate and reorganize into a network, a community with tunnel like structures capable of supplying food and removing waste.  Biofilms are vastly more resistant to antibiotics and biocides than the individual bacterium of its making.  Once established they are very difficult to remove.  I find this to be true of what I shall call householdfilms; clutter at its finest. 

As I sit here typing this I can see that the top of my computer desk, my mom’s old sewing machine table, is a great media for householdfilms.  There are numerous bits of scrap paper, two dusty CD cases, a book jacket from The Greedy Triangle, a small container of bubble solution, two rocks, and a black feather.  And that is just the surface layer.  I am quite sure that if I walk away from my desk and return a few minutes later other objects, a pen or a pair of socks, will have joined this healthy chortling collection of household items.

Lots of householdfilm on this desk. *For the record this is not my desk.*

Biofilms have received a bad rap and for good reason.  They are responsible for a large percentage of nosocomial infections by clogging up catheters and happily growing on pacemakers and artificial joints.  But they can be beneficial too.  They may be the answer to cleaning up oil spills in nature and on a small scale can be used to treat waste water.  I wonder if I collect all the householdfilm off my dinner table (currently preschool workbooks, recipes to try, dead flower arrangements, a couple of board games, newspapers, a gardening book and some artwork from the boys) and sprinkle it on the oil spot in our garage if it would soak it up better than cat litter.

Does you house suffer from householdfilm too or is it just me?

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DVD Malice with Good Intent

Posted on August 8, 2011 by Shoes

I am not a movie buff.  I can not even tell you the last time I set foot in a movie theater.  If Husband and I still have the energy to watch a movie, and by movie I am referring to one that does not have talking cars or dancing penguins, after the boys are in bed we use Netflix.  We have hundreds of movies in our queue and are currently in the movie watching year of 2006.  I don’t know if this was a particularly bad year for movies or if we just picked some crappy movies to watch from this year but boy have we seen some bad flicks lately.

Last night was our second attempt to watch The Wicker Man.  The first DVD we received was damaged and refused to play thirty minutes into it.  It was right at the point where Nicolas Cage‘s character opened the empty desk lid and out flew that poor captured crow.  The children explained to him that they put the bird in there to see how long it could stand it to which Mr. Cage asked the teacher “Why in the hell did you let them do such a sick thing?”  Then nothing.  We skipped ahead, we washed the disk, but all for not.  I became obsessed with what her answer might be.

A couple of days later the replacement disk came in the mail.  We had not been impressed with the first thirty minutes but one must press on; especially when left with such pressing unanswered questions.  The second DVD froze with twenty minutes left to play.  We were able to finish the movie but the probability of a second DVD of the same movie having issues got us thinking.

Husband:  I don’t think I am going to report this DVD as damaged.

Me:  Why not?

Husband:  We just reported one as damaged.  pause  How many Wicker Man disks do you think we can report as damaged before Netflix takes notice?

Me:  Three.  Maybe four. 

Husband:  We could just keep getting Wicker Man disks, smashing them into small pieces and sending them back. 

Me:  Ah, rid the world of Wicker Man, one DVD at a time…

disclaimer – no DVDs, The Wicker Man or otherwise, were harmed by us before, during or after this conversation.

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Simple Sunday – On Top of the Water

Posted on August 7, 2011 by Shoes

Water lilies on Deep Lake, Millersylvania State Park.

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Treasures in a Jar

Posted on August 5, 2011 by Shoes

Yesterday the boys and I drove to Port Townsend where we met up with my mom for lunch.  The weather was perfect; sun, blue sky, light breeze, and a soft layer of fog over the water.  We got there about half an hour before my mom’s ferry was to arrive so we drove up and down Water Street noting various restaurants, a cupcake place, and a small grassy park.  My mom could only spend about two hours with us so we needed to make the minutes count.  And we did.  We ate pizza, coloring many-legged aliens and tracing our hands with crayons on white paper while we waited.

It is hard to trace a moving target but I think I did pretty well.

After lunch we wandered down the street to the park.  The boys quickly made a friend to play pirates with while my mom and I sat on a bench talking quietly, so as not to frighten the children or ourselves, I am not sure which, about the rapid progression of dad’s Alzheimer’s.

It has been about two years, maybe more, since I was really aware of it; much longer for my mom as she has lived with him for the past forty-five years.  The last several months have been bad.  Really bad.  And this week, while not the worst, ranks right up there as one of the top offenders.  We had been planning to get together this Thursday for a couple of weeks.  We were planning on meeting in the middle of the distance between us and spending a better part of the day together but things lurched sideways the night before.  Mom called and canceled her trip, not wanted to leave dad alone.  But I felt she needed this.  She needed to get away.  She needed to see her grandsons.  She needed to talk.  And I needed it too.  So we drove twice as far to see her for two hours.  She has an in home care person every Thursday for three hours so we made it work.

After we waved goodbye and watched her ferry leave the dock we found a cute neighborhood park with beach access to burn off some energy before our long car ride home.  I sat on the shore watching the boys fish seaweed out of the water, absently picking up pebbles and sea glass while mulling over the days conversation.  By the time we had to leave I had a pocket full of beach I decided I must bring home with me.  Out of the blue, I told the boys that I was going to store my rocks in my summer treasure jar, an empty fireweed honey jar from the local farmers market.

Today I stood in the kitchen looking at my jar of treasure thinking of my dad and mom.  The situation.  There is no way around it, no way out of it.  I feel as though I can help so little and it drives me to tears.  What do I have?  I have memories of my dad; my childhood, the rough teenage years, the relationship we have as adults.  I can offer those to my mom written on scraps of paper, perhaps rolled around a pencil to make them curl, and placed in a jar.  Memories in a Jar.  When she finds herself sitting in their house of forty plus years with a man who does not remember who she is, she can read them.  She can add to them her own memories.  Maybe it will help us all remember just a little bit more.  Maybe…

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The Rules for Hide and Seek

Posted on August 3, 2011 by Shoes

Every Tuesday evening during the summer our small town puts on a free concert at the downtown waterfront park.  The music variety includes rock, pop, country, Caribbean, and 50’s dance tunes.  Last night was swing music, big band style.  Not in my top 10 list of favorite music but it is fun to pack a picnic dinner, pull up a blanket and listen while the boys run around the park.

View from the grass out into the harbor. Note the non kid friendly drop off into the water.

 We ate our dinner while listening to Chattanooga Choo Choo and then the boys got up to mill around the grassy area with the other kids.  Cody made a collection of feathers, carefully stored in a Ziploc baggie to be brought home in the backpack.  Carter found a group of older kids and got involved in a game of chase with them.  I watched our three-year old out there running around with the big kids then he suddenly veered off and ran straight towards the porta-potty.

Carter in motion. Note the dreaded blue Porta-potty lurking in the distance. Foreshadowing for the events of the evening.

Now I don’t know about you, but I have a rather healthy loathing of all things resembling public bathrooms.  Porta-potties rank right up there with raw chicken and hobo spiders in my list of things I deem disgusting and to be avoided.  Maybe even at the top of the list.  But he is potty training and any initiation on his part to “go” should be encouraged.  I throw on my flip-flops and sprint towards the now closed door, my son inside.  I open the door and ask him if he has to go pee.  No, he tells me, he is playing hide and seek.  Ugh.  Then he reaches into the urinal, fully planning on picking up the urinal cake (who though that name was appropriate for such a thing anyway?).  I intervene in the nick of time, we get the heck out of there and use an antibacterial wipe I have stashed in my purse for just such an occasion.  I explain that Porta-potties are not used for hide and seek and send him on his way.

Enough said.

Sigh, such is the way of my life right now.  Pretty glamorous stuff right there, don’t you think?    

 

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Into the Wild

Posted on August 2, 2011 by Shoes

Over the weekend we cram packed our truck with various camping gear and headed into the great wilderness.  It was the first time we were brave enough to camp since the children were born.  We hired our babysitter to take care of our dogs (you though I was going to say kids, didn’t you!) to lessen the chaos of our trip.  I did feel guilt over this, as in their puppyhood they both loved camping, but it just felt too overwhelming to manage eight paws and four little feet.  Plus our tent is not big enough for all that madness. 

We were the first to arrive at the campsite and it was shortly after we “made” camp that Husband locked the keys in the truck with the headlights on.  Bummer.  No worries as we have AAA and they were true to their word about showing up in an hour or two.  Our friends showed up a bit later and we all hung out around the campfire eating these.

Now that is some good camping food, right there folks.

The boys were beyond tired and were asleep minutes after getting tucked into the tent.

Yes they sleep with their eyes partially open - kinda creepy, I know.

Other than the horrible nastiness that ensued many, many times that involves taking boys camping that are in various stages of being potty trained, the trip was a success.  I only completely lost my mind once and that was at the very end of the trip.  We did some canoeing, hiking, berry picking, and general lounging around a smoky campfire eating your typical camping fare.  My favorite meal was french toast with freshly picked red wild huckleberries drizzled with fireweed honey.  Yummy!!

It was a bit tippy to start but we got the hang of it and no one fell into the drink.

 

Carter's version of hiking involved lots of running down wooded paths.

I think we just may brave the wilderness again this summer.

The kids planted a pinwheel garden in our campsite - pretty nice huh?

 

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Simple Sunday – Banana Bread

Posted on July 31, 2011 by Shoes

What do you do when you come home from a long weekend of camping to several ripe bananas?  Why, you make banana bread, of course!

My method of procrastination. I did not want to unpack, make dinner, do laundry, and give the boys a bath. Banana bread is much easier.

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Is there a Doctor in the House?

Posted on July 29, 2011 by Shoes

I thought house calls were a thing of the past but apparently I was wrong.

Much to my surprise I was received by not one, but two doctors yesterday morning.  The shortest of the two took my temperature and declared it to be “80-99 bucks”.  After this there was a flurry of activity in which I was given a special humming bird-bleeding heart stamp on each hand, a flu shot in the leg, and was tucked into a rather small bed for a two or three-day hospital stay.  I was served soda from a blue Lego and animal crackers, which looked like ripped up pieced of brown and red construction paper, on an old Sesame Street plate.

I was feeling rather pampered by all this attention so I inquired to the older of the two doctors why, exactly, I needed all this special medical care.

He replied in his sweet little five-year old voice “Well Momma, you have had a couple February Seizures.  That’s all.” 

Oh my.  My heart dropped.

He proceeded to tell me that I would need an X-ray and an MRI.“But don’t worry, it won’t hurt a bit and it looks just like a big doughnut.”

Yesterday was also the second time in a week that we were making the long drive up to Children’s Hospital for more of his yearly follow-up appointments.  I guess all the talk of medical equipment and febrile (not February) seizures did not go unnoticed.  All his test results came back fine because he is a rock star and we are more than a bit lucky.

But I still have to say that I wish my five-year old had never heard of an MRI machine.

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Lions, Tigers & Shrimp – oh my!

Posted on July 26, 2011 by Shoes

Kids like teddy bears, am I right?  My boys have several that they have collected over the years: new baby is born gifts, gifts from doting grandparents, stuffed bears from hospital trips, the list goes on.

Cute kid with teddy bear to prove my point.

Cody’s favorite stuffed animal, hands down, is a purple and white stuffed shrimp whom he named Kissy Shrimp.  I bought the shrimp during a mad purchasing flurry of underwater-sea life themed items for his bedroom when we finally moved the crib out of our room and into his very own.  I found it at a local thrift store, took it home, washed it, and he has been attached to it ever since.  That was about four years ago.  He has other stuffed animals that are near and dear to his heart.  Tom, is a five foot long crocodile who wears a blue and white poka dot shirt.  He tends to get used more as a fire hose these days and less as an actual crocodile.  There is also a parrot with a multi colored tail and an armadillo named Arnold.

Cody and Kissy Shrimp. Please disregard the general household chaos in the background.

Carter has several bears that get played with, one normal sized bear named Big Bear and two smaller bears named Bear and Other Bear.  They dance and play games and sometimes get invited to picnics.  They are no match for Zebra or Snake.  Both of these stuffed animals were impulse purchases.  I grabbed Snake from a local gift shop as a last-minute stocking stuffer two Christmases ago and Zebra was another random thrift store find.  I can’t help but love that my boys have attached themselves to these rather unusual stuffed animals.

Hiss! What's not to love about Snake?

Other resident stuffed animals include a large orange and white polka dot hippo, three large sea stars, two horses, a small cow, a tyrannosaurus rex, an elephant, and an iguana.  Anyone out there have a favorite stuffed animal of the non-teddy bear kind?

Tonight’s Reads:

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