lady bug kisses and a fallen little giant

one step closer or two crazy moms with paint

part II of Beach's room... talked my friend (artist) into 'helping' (doing it for me) paint the mushrooms on Beach's wall.  Beach has been asking, "When is Sarah coming over to do shrooms with us?" and it was today!!!! 

Pizza and painting and 4 kids and me driving a mini van to drop ninjas at gym...

Honestly I don't know how she does it....

Sarah rocks!!!

to be continued...(again)

sugar sweetened ninjas

After school snack via the pastry shop

A ride up town on a nice winter day in a little bouncy truck, 

windows down & music up

Semi safe evacuation of the vehicle 

>childhood sublime<

Gym drop off successful!

Good luck, Coach!

Santa must be a drinker...

So BC is over at the neighbors house and like any good neighbors they are there for us.  They offer a beer, a place to hide a co-owned unregistered vehicle when the inspector comes around, saves your life a couple of times, and gives your kid a giant biting spider.  Cool.  Hold on a minute.  I complained a little when I got a beer (that is one beer) from them and it was said "You feel like getting fucked up, right? Have fun getting all fucked up."  One beer. Smile.  Walk away. Call BC and complain about the cultural barrier between a misunderstood Irish girl and a male Hispanic neighbor.  "You need to explain to him how much I can drink...."

And I didn't really say too much about the whole pushing the car out of our driveway UP into the street then UP into their driveway, it is sort of sweet I suppose minus the hard labor and law breaking.  Totally grateful for the life saving bits.  But while I'm thinking about the whole me accidentally flashing the Mormon missionaries who were coming from their house! WTF?! Why are the missionaries always over there the neighbors are Catholic and a few other things I won't mention? Awkward. But a spider?!?!?! Really?????

Let's review: I am afraid of spiders, nightmares, the kind where I wake throwing and breaking stuff, break out into hives, write off whole sections of the house for days.  In fact one day back when I was married to the X I left a message at his work (a garden store!) that he had to come right home because there was a very deodorized spider under a glass jar in the kitchen that needed to be killed and removed.
My feelings aside I agreed to the spider, turning down a very respectable pair of homeless female rats who happened to be offered to Beach on the very same day.

BUT it gets better...as BC was introducing me to the spider, please forgive me for not remembering his name I tend to blank out a little bit when I am traumatized, BC mentions the best part: He bites.  Oh great!!! So she can't hold it?  Oh-no, I was assured she can through thick leather gloves cause it bit Jr., one of the big boys from next door, through a cotton glove that's why they wanted to get rid of it- it scared them.  It's not poisonous it only feels like a getting stung...I remember the last time I got stung would not sign up to do it again....Right, this is making perfect sense the BIG BOYS next door are afraid of the spider let's give it to Beach she loves scary shit!  Merry Christmas Boo-Bear hold on a minute while mommy goes and gets a shoe....    

a white wash on the past

Beach's room is finally getting an overhaul.

So long big sister wall art.

Farewell to much of the clutter of the years of childhood,

sent off in donation bins and bags for friend's little sisters.

Three thick coats of white.

She is making her own place.

In a room with the perfect afternoon sunlight.

 To be continued....

is that a pheasant in your jacket or are you just happy to see me?

I am having a perfectly normal morning, or so I thought.  I woke up sick. Drank too much coffee then switched to black tea. Moved from house work into school work and then BC got an idea.  Standing in the kitchen looking out the glass sliders into the yard (in desperate need of a hair cut) he says, "I bet I could catch the pheasant." ...yes, because that is what we need a pheasant, not a water pump in little red or some sheet rock on the unfinished walls before the holiday envelope stuffing party I have been asked to host by our Elected Official or a light bulb in the upstairs bathroom.  We defiantly need a another bird to feed.
Twenty minutes later in the middle of a spelling test he pops back into the kitchen. "Told you I could catch it."   

how ninjas watch tv

making of a cat lady

Translation: Don't tell I am not suppose to.

Found this scribbled on the wall behind a poster in Beach's room.  I'm spending today de-cluttering, organizing, cleaning the wood floors, and moving furniture around preparing for tomorrow when I plan to finally get around to painting the room (been threatening for years!).  But as I started garbage bag in hand, laundry basket on the bed, donation box in the hall, and a broom in the corner I realized I am destroying some pretty great sociological evidence.  Not everyday one stumbles upon the clear roots of a crazy cat lady in the making.  Holy Shit Batman someone call Hoarders, Collections Gone Wrong, and maybe even Ghost Hunters.   

meadow hot springs

 i could so live here...

egg-scaping

BC: Okay, what's the plan?

Me: I have a book I want to read and....

BC (cutting me off): Okay, Mom has NO plan that means you kids are with me.

Nicely played right? 

this isn't what it looks like

Beach is sweet but not really child friendly

Last night at gym from far far in the back a little girl in one of the preschool classes told her young coach she needed to go potty.  Now this particular coach is the older sister of a little girl who Beach has taken classes with so naturally said sister-coach looking across the gymnasium and the 20 different ways this little girl might get squashed on the way to the bathroom, knowing she couldn't leave her class, flagged down Beach and handed the little thing off to her.
Okay, from the moment Beach took the hand of the little girl dressed head to toe in pink the parent bench erupted in laughter.  Of all children to pick!!! Beach, a shamed dog in a cone smile, dragging the girl behind her made her way around the mats, her teammates in stitches over the sight.  Beach gets them safely around a crowded Monday night on the mats to the bathroom and three seconds later without the little girl Beach pops out of the ladies room, "Mom, can you help her..." and she takes off running back to her team.
Okay my child has just abandoned it as it turns out 4 yr old girl who needs to potty and is wearing what boils down to a skin tight full body balloon type leotard.  I dash into the bathroom to find the girl standing right where Beach left her in the open bathroom stall.  I smile at her and in case you are wondering I am a grownup this child has never seen before and I am wearing a black sweatshirt that says psycho on the back (not that she can read but I am aware of this), "Do you need help?"  "Beach is helping me."  Yes, obviously she is... SO the same person who created the child who figures a preschool is not much different from a puppy and had ordered her to "Go" went about 'helping' this kid.  In the back of mind as I undress a child that does not know me is "where the hell is your mother?!?!"  I leave the stall door open and kneel down on the floor (gross) trying not to scare her or myself.

Dear Missing Mom, 

This may come as a surprise to you but little kids tend to be unpredictable and it is generally unwise to assume they don't need you near by.  I cannot even put into words how crazy I find this whole thing.  Your kid is fine but I am a touch traumatized.  Have you never watched the news?

From a Parent who is a really nice person luckily for you & my bit less compassionate Child.

  

After we somehow managed to get her safely on and off the pot, redressed, and hands washed I asked her how old she was, "I'm 4. I'm big!!!" She grinned.  Well you had better be because this is rough world and you seem to be at its mercy.

I saw her mom.  At the end of the hour she strolled in looking beautiful and polished. Unlike me, her hair was nicely done, clothes carefully coordinated, holding a well dressed toddler in her arms.  For all I know she was taking that hour to cure cancer or read to the blind or sit bedside to her dying mother but I suspect not and as she walked past me I said a little prayer for that kids; May she always find good people at the other end of the hand she is being offered.

no place like home

On a snowy night at the end of a snowy day, long after a steamy soak, a winter walk, the rise and fall of snowmen, when all the news falls silent, showers taken, suppers eaten, fires content, and stories all told is this: home.

rx for the body, mind, and soul

church of hot water