Inspiration

Just as I'm musing over no longer feeling the motivation to write, Jax up and gets himself sent to the Principal's office at school today. Well, The YMCA's Mother's Day Out version of the Principal's office, which technically is the office of the lady in charge of child services at the Y, but you get the point.

His teacher is a lovely lady who taught Ryan in the program when she was 3, and lucky for us, she has a son a few years older than Ryan who was exactly like Jax at his age. She's always saying how happy she is to have the opportunity to teach him, and goes out of her way to paint any "incidents" with Jax in the most rose-colored of ways.

Today, for instance, all she said at pick-up was, "We had to visit Miss Toni's office today, but afterwards he did much better. His energy level was just a little higher than normal today."

Which is like saying Rush Limbaugh is just a little pompous. That's all. Just a smidge.

Once in the hallway, I question Jax as nonchalantly as possible, asking him if he got to go see Miss Toni today, and what, per chance, did they talk about? "Yeah," he responded. "I don't know."

"Okay, well can you tell me why you got to go to her office?"

"'Cause I was like jumping and jumping and jumping and then I jumped on the big blue thing and was like ahahahahahaha." Oh. Okay. I can only assume that by the "big blue thing" he meant the big blue tube-slide, and that by going ahahahaha, he meant jumping/scooting all the way down on top of it. Or something.

My questions were quickly dismissed as we were walking by the elderly grandmother of one of his classmates, and he said, "WHOA! She's OLD!"

"Shhh," I scolded, bending down to his eye level. "It's not nice to talk about people like that, Jax."

"Okay," he reluctantly grumbled. Then, in the time it took me to straighten myself up, he'd run over to her, grabbed her dress and yelled, "HEY! YOU'RE OLD!"

And I'm back to blogging. Good time, good times.

Another one from Jax

I know these QOTD's are trite, but I've not been too inspired lately. Unless you want to hear me rattle on about screaming tantrums, hitting, kicking walls and slamming doors. Personally, living through it every day is enough for me. No need to hash out the details. So, in lieu of an actual post, and because I'm digging deep to find humorous bits about this boy, here are his latest quotes:

"Mommy, I'm the FART MASTER!!"

"Hey Mom, I'm going to find the poop with my binoculars."

"How come when I poop it makes my butt hot?"

I'm seeing a theme here...smelling it, too.

QOTD

Jaxson, looking at my many many freckles: "Mom, why you got so many polka dots?"

"Ohhh, Baxter. You are my little gentleman..."

"...I'll take you to foggy London town, because you are my little gentleman."

(Ten points if you can name that movie!)

Just Another Day At The Office

After my workout this morning, I picked Jax up at the Kid's Gym, and as we were putting on his shoes, I asked him how it was.

"Great! Greta was there and I played with her. And I took her jacket and ran and she didn't win, I won."

"I'm glad you got to play with Greta, but maybe no more taking her stuff, okay?"

"Okay....and I played with these guys," (holding up five fingers, then counting them off one by one) "this guy, and him and him, and him, and me!" Excitement oozes.

Right about then, one of the boys comes out of the Kid's Gym to put on his shoes, and as he does, Jax says, "Hey, there's one of those guys!"

"Hey, dude," He calls nonchalantlyin a voice 2 octaves lower than the one he was just using.

The little boy doesn't hear him, but a second later looks up, sees Jax and says , "Hey!"

"Hey," he responds, again, in the casual, non-committal way his dad answers just about all of my questions.

He finishes putting on his shoes, starts to walk away, and throws over his shoulder a "later, bro" as he goes.

And I stand and stare, wondering who exchanged my chatty little 4 yr old boy with this 12 year old pre-man.

Live from ESPN...

NASCAR is definitely back in season. How am I sure of this fact? As I sit typing this in the living room, I can hear Jax in the next room performing his own one-on-one interviews:

(In loud Dad/Announcer voice) "So, Jimmy, what are you doing?"



(Apparently answering as Jimmie Johnson) "Well, I'm winning 'cause my car is big, my wheels are big, and I smell good, and I eat chicken after my race."



(again, in the Dad/Announcer voice) "So, Earn Earnhardt, what happened?"



(As Dale Jr, aka "Earn Earnhardt") "Well, I got in a crash. I went a little like this, and then a little like that and then CRASH! And Jimmie was doing this, and then woohoo! Jimmie wins!! I really crashed, I don't know what happened."



(announcer voice) "Start your engines, get set, go! Vroom, and Jimmie is in the lead, and OH NO, Earn Earnhardt is crashing, and now Jimmie is in the crash, and Jimmie wins!"



"What happened Jimmie, buddy?" Jimmie: "Well, I was in the crash"



And then the loop starts all over again... P.S. In Jax's head, Jimmie Johnson is GOD.

Apple. Tree.

Today's been "one of those days" with Jaxson. He's ornery to a fault, stubborn beyond anything I've ever seen, and when he's forced to go against his will, extensive damage is done to his lungs, our ears, his fists, and any surface strong enough to withstand his blows.

Shawn was grumbling about him this morning, which only made me giggle, because it's days like this that he reminds me of his Daddy the most...

Helen Marie Duplantis, 1929-2009

"The good French lady has left us..."

Mysterious Ways

We've just finished dinner and have been talking to Ryan about excluding friends at school, being mean to someone just because they were mean to you first, and all that other glorious cattiness we encounter when girls are concerned. I can't tell you how much I look forward to these "talks".

It's possible I may have gone on a tad too long this time, muddling the point with examples and explanations, because after my "everyone-is-different-and-that's-okay-because-that's-how-God-wants-us-to-be-He-can-do-anything-He-wants-and-if-He-wanted-us-to-all-be-the-same-He-would-have" speech, she concurred with the following story:

"Yeah, Mom, because you know, He really can do anything He wants. Like today I was sad and not feeling that great, but I still tried to be nice and good, and so when I was watching Phineas and Ferb today, they usually go straight to the cartoon after the beginning song, but this time, God said, 'You know what? Ryan has been really good all day and I know she really has to go to the bathroom, so I'm gonna put a commercial on so she doesn't have to miss anything.' And He DID!!"

Clearly, my work here is done.

Happy Chinese New Year!!

We just got back from watching the Chinese New Year parade at Ryan's school, a 5 minute long procession involving reams of butcher paper & a whole mess of First Graders banging drums and bumping into each other. Eat your heart out, Macy's.

This is Ryan's class dragon and...

this is Ryan as 1/15th of the dragon's tail! Woohoo!

Making Amends

So I have this friend from Back Home, who as a girl was known to cause me to crap myself and crumple my self-esteem just with a glance. Supposedly, she never knew her looks could kill, but one can never be too sure.... Anyway, I love her very much, mostly because she's just as silly as me, but also for all those other hearts and rainbows and lovey reasons we all love our friends. So imagine my surprise when I heard she was (gasp!) embarrassed by a hilarious picture of her I posted on my Facebook page (cringing as I type that) from Shah's wedding last weekend. Of course, she says her protests and "HOOKER" catcalls were all in good fun, but she mixed guilt with a Catholic, and I will not let the matter die without full flogging of myself for all the internet to see. Not that anyone other than my mom and a couple of my friends who've seen me look much worse will read this, but I feel gratified anyway.

So Kellie, this one's for you:



You touched a nerve with the "hooker" bit, so I thought I'd show you just what a hooker I can (could, was) be. Pre-reduction, pre-highlights, this was me as "Angel" from Best Little Whorehouse, my first and only role on the Mainstage, but one nobody will ever let me forget. (Especially not Ninny, who calls me every.single.time. she hears "Hard Candy Christmas" on the radio.) Anyway, there you go, pretty embarrassing, no? Although you could say it doesn't really count, since I was dressed for a part, so here's another one...

I'm not sure what part of this picture is the most horrifying -- the face, the bangs, or the copper lipstick. Either way, it's bad. Bad bad bad. But again, perhaps you don't think this picture suffices, having been taken over 13 years ago, so I've got one more for ya, taken just last year:

Me as Shawn last Halloween. This is the best I've got (for now) but I'm sure if you wait a few days I'll find more. And yes, he will make me pay for posting this pic of him, so now I'm doubly punished.

There. Now. The slate is clean, I've absolved myself of my sins, and I'm off to devour my humiliation by way of a nice big box of Thin Mints.

Hustle and Flow, Baby

It's Cookie Time at the York house, which basically just means a lot of anxiety for Mommy. Anxiety over how I am ever going to avoid eating these things by the ton, and anxiety over forcing Ryan to be an underage travelling salesman. I know the process builds character, initiative, goal-setting and all that gobbledy-gook, but none of those lofty ideals have any power to stop my hands from sweating and my stomach from flipping every time she approaches a new target. I hate selling. Hate hate hate. Hate. I take rejection to a completely ridiculous personal level, so watching my child get rejected is the type of vicarious living I don't strive for. Not that she's been rejected all that much (twice -- and I will remember who you are), or even that she'll have to do all that much selling -- she's got Shawn's delegating gene. (Big Daddy, Lea and Ninny are currently in a race to see which of them can sell the most cookies for Ry). Anyway, we all have to grow up sometime, so I guess age 31 is just as good an age as 6.

Not to mention, Jax is completely in her corner. Not only did he point out to me how big Ryan is ("She's so big Mommy. She can drink beer now, I think."), but he's also informed us exhaustively that if anyone tells her "No", he'll "punch them in the head, sucker". So, there you go.

HOPE Springs Eternal...

In honor of the resurgence of HOPE, I've decided to come out from hiding. It's a new start; we've seen the dark before the dawn, and now's the time to sprout anew. Or something a little less corny, but no less meaningful...

I haven't written in a while because I didn't really have anything to say. Also, my time is no longer really mine, and any time I try to "steal" is taken from my kiddos, and that's not what I want for them. So I'll try to post as often as possible, when I have some "Mommy Time" on my hands, not just in an effort to vent or delight, but also because I didn't realize how many people have missed me. I may not have thousands of readers (Thank God!!), but the ones I have I cherish, and I want you to know that!

A quick update to satisfy curiosity:

Shawn is at a new restaurant now -- same company -- and he is flourishing. He works hard, but now his work is geared toward us -- toward canceling the non-essentials and making room for me and the kids. It's been fun to watch.

Jax has grown so much since this summer. We've been listening to him and validating him and through that effort have found ways to communicate and grow that we were beginning to doubt were possible. His tantrums have cooled, but his enthusiasm for life keeps growing -- and we are so grateful for that!

Ryan has been working hard at school and on the gymnastics team, and every day she gets stronger, smarter, and more beautiful. She's also got some brass balls on her and a mouth to go with 'em, but I'm not complaining -- hopefully she'll eventually use those traits to battle evil rather than Mommy.

I'm the same, but different -- trying to let go of my demons, and slowly but surely they are disappearing. I'm growing more thankful every day for the trials that come our way, because I know they are there to make us better, and that they will pass once they've accomplished their mission. I'm reading and cooking, playing and sleeping and trying to keep my butt from getting bigger.

That's pretty much it -- see why I haven't written lately?? I hope I haven't left some of you deflated, although I'm pretty sure I've managed to set the bar low enough in the past that maybe you'll just be mildly bummed.

Before I sign off, let me say: NO MORE LURKING!! Talk to me: comment, email or call. Part of the reason I haven't felt inspired to write is because I haven't felt a sense of community with all of you out there. I want to know how you're doing, what you're feeling, and if and how I can be of service to you. It's a new day, peeps, a Happy, Happy Day!!!