What's Going On Here?

What's Going On Here? is MOVING

2010-05-08T23:36:00.001-04:00

What's Going On Here? has a new permanent home!

http://www.whats-going-on-here.com
click here to go to our new home

Guess Where We Are?

2010-05-08T06:00:00.007-04:00

Somewhere they don’t want to be.
Kiki could be looking at Greyson because he's doing something weird.
Greyson could be doing something weird.
Tristan could be bowing his head in disbelief.
OR
Greyson could be stretching.
Kiki could be looking at him because she wants to avoid the camera.
Tristan could be scratching his head because it itches.
A myriad, a MYRIAD of possibilities.

But, where are we?

I’ll give you a hint. Can you see fear in the eyes?

How about now?

This expression spells it out:

D-e-n-t-i-s-t.
They'd already been in for their exam and cleanings, this was the down and dirty trip. The you're-going-to-feel-a-little-pressure, trip. And if a dentist tells you you're going to feel a little pressure? Buckle up.
credit to Brian Regan

There was a lot of waiting involved.

A lot of time to anticipate your turn while you listened to the drilling and suctioning in the adjacent room.
Hey, look! A mustache? Is that coming through on your monitor?

Hey, look!

James Dean.

But I guess James Dean would never have done this.

Are we bored to tears yet?

How about now?

Nope, James Dean would definitely never have let anyone see up his nose.

I take that back.

Don’t worry, Tristan, not too much longer until the dentist can

yank out your tooth by it's roots, I promise.

Audience, I jest not…

That sucker was dug in tighter than a cuttlefish in a mud bucket.

You can make anything sound like a colloquialism if you just throw in a southern accent.

Can I Go Out in the Hail, Mom?

2010-05-07T09:13:00.001-04:00

The morning started dark and gloomy outside. and then–SHAPOW!–a sudden hail storm.

Hail on the trampoline.

Hail swimming in the patio umbrella.

Kerplunking off the patio furniture.

Finding refuge against the house.

Huddling in a corner.

But the picture he wanted captured most of all was:

“Mom! Look how shiny the basketball is! Take a picture, can you take a picture?”

Yes I can.

And then, as quickly as it started, it was over. In the words of Greyson:

“Today, was a weird weather day.”

This post was brought to you courtesy of Wordpress, where I composed and uploaded it, copied it and pasted it all over here. If Blogger has room for that, I don't get why they don't have room for just doing it the old way. Because they want to make Life as hard as possible?

Ode to a Spider

2010-05-06T06:00:00.002-04:00

We didn't have time to figure out what to do about running out of room on Blogger and not being able to upload anymore pictures. Todd thinks I should move to Wordpress (and that it's long overdue). So until we do figure out the fate of What's Going On Here, I went into the "drafts" folder and found this post that's almost exactly a year old. I didn't post it then because I thought it would be mean. But I think it's okay to post it now. I think. I hope. But I've made REALLY bad decisions before, like my Homecoming dress in 11th grade. So if it's not okay, please let me know.

Every once in awhile we find an overdone fruit hiding in the fruit bowl.
This is the first time we've found a guest....

Thomisus spectabilis

Haj is coming to visit. With Georgie!
They hate spiders. Because this is what they do--

Spiders, spiders, everywhere
Spiders hiding in a pear
When you think you're safe in bed
Rappelling spiders overhead
Spiders don't respect your space
Spiders skip across your face

I bet they can't wait to come now!
Don't worry Haj, we've got 8 spider hunters on full-time duty.

Strangest Things My Kids Have Said

2010-05-05T12:10:00.002-04:00

"Mom, who was the first person ever to think of chewing with your mouth closed?"

"I don't know, Tristan, that's a good question."

"I think I know. I think it was me."

Now pretend there is a darling picture of Tristan here, chewing with apple in his mouth, his lips pressed tightly together. Pretend I did not get this message instead: Unable to upload file (DSC_0213.JPG) because the site has exceeded its file upload quota.
And if anyone knows what that means, please inform. Is this the end of "What's Going On Here?"
No more pictures?
No more creative outlet?
No more purpose?
The rug has been ripped out from under me.
Remember that picture of the tulip I posted just the other day?

It had opened it's delicate petals in promise of the sun's warmth and care...

...and had gotten a face full of slush.

I feel like I'm in 7th grade all over again. It was a tough year.

The truth is, the truth is, His hand is behind, before, and upon me, and just like I survived being told in 7th grade that "if you stood sideways and stuck out your tongue, you'd look like a zipper", I will survive not being able to post pictures anymore. And God knows, maybe something will happen to fix it all.

I'll keep you posted.

Camera Mess-ups

2010-05-05T06:00:00.002-04:00

These are camera mess-ups. But like anything else in life, give it the right title, and suddenly it's art.

I'll call this-- Waiting in Tanzania.

And this is-- Mona Kiki

as in..

There's something similar about the expressions.

Mona Sawyer?

No. There's something about the eyes that just isn't right.

Caught in the Headlights.

Move Over, Monopoly

2010-05-04T06:00:00.001-04:00

Move over, Monopoly...

There's a new game in town.

It catches the interest of young and old.

With pretty much the same components.

And confusion. (Note the fudgesicle smear on the left cheek).

The same reading of cards.

And waiting your turn.

Oh, and look!

Clean fingernails.

This has nothing to do with Horseopoly.

He just proposed trading-back with Tristan. Trade-backs are illegal in our house, thus the unsure stance.

What does he want to trade back?...

This. Which used to be his, but he traded it with Tristan for something, or maybe it started out as Tristan's and Tristan traded it to Sawyer and then Sawyer wanted it back--this is why it's illegal in our house. It's exhausting to keep track of.

Anyway, it's his now.

You'd think wearing fudgesicle all over your face would dampen your spirits a bit, but not when you're holding the object of your heart's desire: a gadget! Nevermind that you'll never pry it open, you've got a gadget!!!

Teaching the Younger Generation How Not to Excel

2010-05-03T06:00:00.002-04:00

The kids love to play computer games on a website called Webkinz. Kiki recently got very good at playing one of the games and received the following message:

Award Fail

Notice how the "Final Score" has "NaN" as the tally. We think this stands for (sing-song voice) "nan,nan,nan,nan-nan!"
This note qualifies as passive-aggressive if you quote it with the emphasis on the word "not"--"Your score will NOT be submitted and your KInzCash will NOT be awarded. So there."

Mr. Grumpypant's Lullaby

2010-05-03T06:00:00.001-04:00

"Mom, come, come quick! Kiki's holding Shiloh like a baby and there's pretty music!"

A Perpetual List

2010-05-02T06:00:00.012-04:00

Please check the following lists and see if I forgot anything.

Biggest annoyances of childhood:

Trying to open a pocket knife with a flimsy thumbnail

Catching the back of your heel on the screen door

Sticky popsicle juice and no place to wash your hands

Dud firecrackers

Balloons too hard to blow up

Gum that lost its flavor after 45 seconds

Hitting your teeth on a pop bottle

Bazooka comic strips that you couldn’t understand

Plain slush left in the bottom after sucking a slushy dry

Being last

Getting your hair caught in a closing window

Waxy crayons
That panicky feeling of not having a hiding place in hide-n-go-seek

Getting hit with an iceball in a snowball fight

Cats that slid out from under your petting hand

Dogs that knocked you down

The kid holding the hose and spraying everybody

Tasting baking cocoa and feeling betrayed

Grasshoppers that flew drunkenly into your face
Finding out your brother ate all the chips
Breathing in powdered sugar
Falling on your tailbone

Dodgeball

Biggest Annoyances of Adulthood
Customer service people that can't think outside the box
Waiting in line

Paperwork
Paper cuts
Dull potato peelers
Static cling
Losing the whole email you just composed
Stuck staples in a stapler
Low batteries
Weak flush toilets
Losing the cordless phone
Losing the tv remote
Waxy chap-stick
People who merge out of turn
How the smell of vanilla extract and its taste are polar opposites.
Clerks who act annoyed when helping you
Pens that won't write
Wearing socks and stepping in something wet
Recorded phone options when you need a live person
The copyright warning on dvds that you can't skip
A hair in the shower
Cats that slink out from under your petting hand
Finding out someone ate all the chips
Dodgeball

Guess What's Growing in the Backyard?

2010-05-01T06:00:00.006-04:00

He had an inclination to plant seeds. We were fresh out. But then it hit me--we have wheat kernels. So we planted them and...wallah!

He's growing wheat grass.

Tristan got a haircut.
I wonder what's going on in that little noggin of his? Do we truly ever think of nothing? What did I think of when I was his age?
candy
candy
my turn
I get cherry
I get grape
not it
you're it
I'm telling
me first
no fair
just go
beat'cha

can I have one
wanna trade
look out
watch this
dibs
wait up
can I come
you're mean
can I play?
candy

It's got to be one of those. Except that Tristan asks really deep questions out of the blue, so he could be thinking of something like he said last night, "Mom, how did God think of sounds? Like when you drop a glass and it goes chink, how did He think of that?"
Let's take another look......

Neh, he's thinking of candy.

The downward bounce on the trampoline makes Greyson's face go down,

And Kiki's hair go up.

I'm playing with my camera. I like this lighting, but I think it's technically incorrect because there is not enough light on the face. Is it a technique or a mistake? Maybe this is why photographers carry a silver umbrella, to throw light on the face. Dare I walk around with a silver umbrella?

Camera jockeys please inform.

Almost Put it Away

2010-04-30T06:00:00.001-04:00

This is a snowballer. Cousin Heather gave it to us for Christmas. I almost put it away for the spring, but since the Supersoaker 2000 watergun stayed in our backyard all winter long, I figured I shouldn't break my streak.

This is a dog chewing on a dog toy. I almost put her away too. Just kidding. I point this out only to call your attention to the slippery chew toy she's gnawing on.

Dog toy and snowballer--A happy marriage.

It can be employed all summer long now.

And it holds up to the most strenuous use. Do you think they could have doubled their sales if they had included these pictures in their catalog?

Steering Lord Chesterfield

2010-04-29T10:11:00.005-04:00

It seems like God has endowed everyone with little gifts, little gifts that maybe others don't even know about, like the ability to tie the perfect bow or an uncanny sense for finding shortcuts. I think mine might be--keeping the ball rolling. If you've ever watched those black and white movies from the 1930's where a grand lady sits at the head of a dinner party and gently steers the conversation with, "Lord Chesterfield, I hear the hunt went remarkably well yesterday?" and then as soon as Lord Chesterfield is done regaling the table with the harrowing events of yesterday's hunt, the hostess says, "Lady Dalton is freshly arrived from Austria, what's this about a narrow escape you met with on the steamer?"--that's what I mean by keeping the ball rolling.

Yesterday I discovered it wasn't so much a gift as it was a compulsion. I went to get a haircut. Luckily, it's only around the corner in a neighbor's shop/home. She's a french neighbor, so conversation is somewhat difficult, but you pay no heed to that when you must keep the ball rolling. I had debated if I should even keep my appointment because I was fast running out of steam with this Post Viral Syndrome. I had an inkling it may have been best to stay at home and rest. But my reasoning won out--I'll just be sitting there, I can rest--I'd forgotten about keeping the ball rolling. So even though my lungs were begging me to keep quiet and not use the precious air they needed just to breathe, my neighbor and I discussed a myriad of topics while she wielded her scissors on my shorn head-

post viral syndrome (of course)
the square footage and layout of her backyard
the french/English conflict in the province of Quebec
the social and environmental impact of the Inuit territories
our first pick for traveling abroad
how she lost 20 pounds
the extracurricular activities of her children
museums and culture in Ireland
transport options
starting dates from transplanting gardens
good neighbors vs. bad neighbors

I had no breath, but I was compelled. I really just couldn't sit there and let the conversation fall flat. Compulsion is a blessing and a curse. After that hair cut appointment I was rendered useless and had to go to bed, after I made dinner, and after I called to see how my mom made it through her hip operation, and after I saw all the little haircuts the boys had. I should have just gone to bed, but I was...compelled.

Why I Hate Canada on Tuesday

2010-04-27T17:21:00.003-04:00

Monday

Tuesday

Monday

Tuesday

Monday

Tuesday

Spring was here. And then, like these tulips..

It bowed it's tired head beneath winter's last blow.

It had opened it's delicate petals in promise of the sun's warmth and care...

...and had gotten a face full of slush.

I feel a "Life is like a blooming tulip..." saying coming on.

What used to be...

Is no more.

Tuesday lasts forever.

Hey, I see some deck furniture.

We bought it to herald the coming summer.

Pull up a chair, and have a seat.

Tuesday is so-

wrong.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Kickin' it Up a Notch

2010-04-27T06:00:00.001-04:00

Out of a gumball machine comes a toy that can amuse you for hours.

And if you get tired of it...

Just add legs.

Silly Putty makes very disappointing legs.

But all is not lost. The neighbor kid gives up some guns he is too old to play with.

A matching set of orange and green.

And when you get tired of them....

Just add a trampoline.

Guns AND a trampoline, can life get any better?

Why, yes. Yes, it can.

If you can acquire this highly valued kidlife skill.

The Girl

2010-04-26T06:00:00.002-04:00

What's so intriguing?

Wow, she's really captured by this genre.

It's Poe.

Why would a nice girl like you be interested in Tales of Terror?

So sweet, so serene...

Wait.

I think I see it now.

The pull of the dark corridor and the dying ember.

It's been instilled by... Monster Daddy.

Poor little thing just can't get left alone.

Laying Around Eating Bonbons

2010-04-24T06:00:00.004-04:00

If you've been reading posts here lately you know that I'm on doctor's orders to convalesce, but that doesn't mean I'm laying around on the couch eating bonbons.

Or am I?

We bought this book from Scholastic. It's a DK book, so you know it's good quality. I wanted it to inspire Kiki in the kitchen since she is so visual.

And inspire, it did!

She was able to make these all on her own. No help from me;

I was in bed.

Waiting for my bonbons to be served.

She's picked out 3 recipes to make already--she's making these next. She said, "Mom, I should make one of these a day!"

Why, yes. Yes you should.

And even though it's a cookbook made for girls, it certainly would not insult the intelligence of an adult.

unless you turn to the craft section...

...and observe the Top tip!

But I think that "tip" would insult anyone's intelligence.

It's rather obvious. Or demanding, depending on your take on it.

They have the "see inside this book" feature on Amazon, so you can see if it's for you. Overall, I'm glad we got this cookbook. In her words: "It has good recipes, it's creative." There ya' go.

It's fun to see her excited about cooking. And at least something's getting done around here.

Speaking of things getting done, I give you--

The Laundry Basket that Swallowed a Boy.

Everyone is helping out, pitching in.

Conquering mountains.

How Does Everything Seem?

2010-04-22T06:00:00.007-04:00

Boys are jumping.

Smiling.

Dogs are eating salad.

Cats are ignoring.

And all is right with the world.

Drawing Class

2010-04-22T06:00:00.005-04:00

I saw him trying to drag a blue chair, a red box, and a white lid out the front door.

"What are you doing?"

"I"m going in the front, to draw."

It's a good thing we're the kind of family that keeps a spare pizza box around for adjusting desk heights.

Do you think the neighbors think we're weird? Or just resourceful?

Spring has just begun to sprung in our neck of the woods. And he was inspired to capture it.

I'm framing this.

How do you interpret purple flowers?

Pretty good.

( I told you those clean fingernails wouldn't last long)

I love the way the light shines through these leaves.

I'd say the color is spot on.

A gaping mouth was integral to the process. Why do we do this? Someone ought to do a study.

Here's Mr. Robin. We call him ours. He came down to hunt for worms, undaunted by the going's on. He's such a friendly little thing.

Jaunty. Do you think anyone would dare to cross you if you stood your ground like that? This is what I feel like doing when someone tries to merge ahead of me in traffic. Except I'm in a car. So they wouldn't see me. So never-mind.
Don't robins have such spindly legs for all their fluff?

I think he knows we're talking about him behind his back.

He does.

How Did We Miss This?

2010-04-21T06:00:00.004-04:00

They love it.

Oh, they do.

We went back to the skateboard park and saw that they had added something while we were gone.

Oh, boy.

They weren't quiet sure how to tackle something so big.

Whoa. Let's get a close up

of this one---

I feel your pain,Tristan, I really do.

Funny how they bounce back so readily. God knew just how to design kids.

They still used the other side of the park, too.

Here's a rogue head without a helmet. Then the helmet police noticed and yelled,

"What are you doing? Cover your noggin!"

They love it when I'm The Mom.

They brought bikes too, which would have been a lot of fun, but...

He'd psyched himself up to go down this ramp. It was one of those situations where everybody had to wait while he mustered up the courage.

Can you tell how bored Greyson is?

It took a long time.

A really long time.

This long.

In the end,

He did it. But we'd already moved on to other things, so I missed the shot.

Poor kid, this was the competition.

Greyson brought his scooter.

There weren't enough prize toys to go around so there was waiting involved.

Unless you wanted to use a dud toy.

Tristan finally got the Ollie.

Sawyer finally got to ride a half-pipe.

And a cool skateboard guy...

...even stopped to show him some tips.

He just loves cool skateboard guys.

Ya' know what I love?

Using my offspring to hone my photography skills.

They've come in quite handy.

The Face

2010-04-20T06:00:00.005-04:00

What do this face and...

... this, have in common?

This might look like a bunch of wooden block cast-offs so I'll give you one more picture as a hint.

It kind of gives it away.

Do you recognize the Car Face now? Every boy makes it. It's necessary to produce the correct sound effects.

Frogs and snails

And puppy-dogs' tails,
That's what little buoys are made of.

They were both out here, setting up the park.

Curiously enough, most of the cars sat unused on the sidelines. So I guess I was wrong about the Car Face.

It can be a Skateboard Face too. And just look at how it's hanging on by the seat of it's pants.

I know how it feels.

I might just make a poster of that and hang it in a central location.
There are a lot of people who could use it right now.
When they are asked, "How are you?", they could just throw a glance toward the poster and not say a word.

This could be big.

One more thing,

I just wanted to share this rare moment with you--

Clean fingernails.

What I Love Finding...

2010-04-19T06:00:00.002-04:00

Sapriz notes.

Surprise chores,

done.

And "S's",

backward.

Laundry,

monogrammed.

In individualized piles, sorted by family member.

Taking credit, where credit is due.

The humble helper.

It's My Fault

2010-04-18T10:56:00.016-04:00

The air was pulsating with expectation, the kids were so excited to show their hard work at the Homeschool Expo. And I was able to go just long enough to capture it all on film. Eva said she'd take the kids home so I could leave as soon as I needed to.

As a mom, it was exciting for me to see them stand publicly as individuals.

The rewards of all that planning and execution were finally here.

Pride and a sense of accomplishment were almost tangible.

There was a huge variety of displays,

Creativity galore,

And in the midst of all this, what was I thinking of? What was standing out in my mind more than anything else?

See the gaping space there, just under "Coca-Cola"?

See that vortex, that vacuous expanse of immense proportions?

That was MY fault.

Greyson put his report "down low", heeding my warning that if it were too high it would be covered up by the title sign. He was just following my instruction, and when we got there it was too late to change it.

This gaping hole is what haunted my soul in the whirl of otherwise enjoyable festivities.

It didn't bother him at all.

He was too busy doing taste tests of Coke vs. Pepsi.

Coke won, by the way. Something like 30 to 17.

What you see here is a master shot, with Todd!

And what I see is a gaping hole that was my fault.

This is more towards the middle of the gym,

and My Fault there on the left.

This is the opposite side.

My Fault is mercifully out of the picture but not out of my mind.

I also came away without a picture of Tristan's diorama. It's hidden there, just in front of those spectators.

I'm sorry you can't see all the special touches he put into it to create The Environment of the Wolf.

But hey, enjoy this fur rimmed brown hooded jacket as a substitute.

These happy accidents so seldom occur, I should be thankful, I know.

How to Do a Chin-Up

2010-04-16T06:00:00.002-04:00

Step One: Purse lips.

Step Two: Flail lower appendages.

Step Three: Look at The Mom.

Believe. You can do anything.

Half-Way Pretty

2010-04-15T06:00:00.006-04:00

Come visit us, and we'll take you here. But it's only half-way pretty right now because the trees are still bald.

Bonus bird.

It has some really interesting architecture.

And roaring,

Falls.

Lots of them.

A bridge,

With towers.

A staircase,

A protuberance,

A place to tie your shoes,

Here's a picture of Tristan.
Oh. And a smokestack.

Rocks,

Old buildings,

A Big lake,

A bald tree house,

Stones for one,

Stones for two,

Running commentary,

(click on him to see his cool eye)

Aerial views,

Ice cream,

And Climbing trees.

Really, it's a must see. And just wait 'til you see what you can do here--

Must.

Make.

Big.

Splash.

huh.

Something tells me that was anti-climactic.

Important Public Service Announcement

2010-04-14T07:13:00.001-04:00

To all trampoline owners and those who jump on neighbor's trampolines: Look closely at the warning signs posted on the trampoline pad. Do you know what this one means? Well, luckily we have Sawyer to interpret it for us. Are you ready? The above sign means-- "No Humans Allowed".

Thank you, Sawyer, for clearing that up for us. The world will surely be a safer place.

I'm afraid non-humans aren't off the hook either. Only those non-somersaulting, non-shoe wearing and non-offspring bearing are welcome.

And please leave your knives and cigarettes behind.
Thank you.

A Use For Recyclables

2010-04-13T10:00:00.000-04:00

If you don't move your recyclables out to the recycle bin in due time, they will be found and put to use:

Poor Motorcycle Guy. He had no idea his life would turn out like this.

I can relate.

What else is a Munch supposed to do?

Here's a flower to cheer you up. Amanda brought it to me, it perfumes the whole house.

The kid's think it "smells like bad breath!" and is tantamount to spraying a Home Fragrance spray called "Bad Breath" throughout your whole domicile.

Poor little Easter Lily. Beauty is in the nose of the beholder.

Two Good Things About Convalescing

2010-04-13T09:09:00.004-04:00

First, the kids step in to help. This morning while I was getting ready, Tristan called through the bedroom door, "Mom, there's a surprise for you on the table!" He was so excited. I came out and saw this:

He'd done it all himself. And made the executive decision that the pitcher there on the far right should be used for maple syrup. It's the size of a tea pot. It was full.

The second good thing about convalescing is that they get to eat cereal for breakfast:

And this is how they feel about that.

Just after the lovely tea table discovery there ensued a squabble over the benefits of cereal:
Kiki proffered, "You guys eat cereal like pigs, you don't need that much. It's like dog food-- dry kibble full of nasty stuff."
"There's no sugar in here." Tristan countered.
"There's five gallons of sugar in there."
"Huh-uh!You're so weird!" Tristan said.
"How much is a gallon Tristan, how much is a gallon?" said Wise Girl.
"It doesn't even say how much sugar is in here. There's not a gallom!"
"It's gallon, Tristan, a GALLONNN."
"No, Kiki it's in GRAMS!" he said, brandishing the cereal box.
And then Sawyer, the youngest, innocently said the wisest thing of all--
"Kiki, how come you're eating cereal when you don't like it?"

A valid question.

The Whole World's Coming Up Roses

2010-04-12T21:22:00.002-04:00

Guess

What

Have?

Yes!

Oh, they've needed this.

For a long time.

But Daddy wasn't too keen on it for several years because he thought it was too dangerous. Suddenly he changed his mind. Kiki was so happy she made this cake to thank him:

Complete with a demonstration of the reservations Daddy use to have.
This--

And this.

We love our new trampoline.

Lessons from a Couch

2010-04-11T07:14:00.006-04:00

I never guessed that part of God's plan for me would be to stop doing the things I thought He created me to do. I am a wife and a mother.

I do laundry.
I cook.
I clean.
I cart.
I teach.
I host.
I help.
I partner.
And now...I stop.
I rest.
I sit.
I lay.
I cry.
I watch the things I used to do go on without me. And I ponder verses like:

"In Thy book, they were all written, the days that were ordained for me when as yet there was not one of them." Psalm 139:16

"Behold, I have refined you, But not as silver; I have tested you in the furnace of affliction". Isaiah 48:10

And I pray. I pray for people like the young wife I know who is incapacitated by disease. Her hopes of being a homemaker and vigorous help to her new husband are replaced with waiting to get well and watching him serve her.
And I marvel that part of God's perfect plan for us is giving up everything we thought we were supposed to be, and becoming who He intended us to be through waiting and not doing.
And I see.
I see that "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him". Job 13:15 I used to say. But now I see.
And I plead for those whom God has designed to sit and wait.

A Face For All of Us---The Sequel

2010-04-10T06:00:00.006-04:00

Did you know, if you want to work in Canada, you have to have special papers? And if you want to live there without having to renew these papers every two years, you need to become a permanent resident. You could become a citizen, but who wants to do that? Just kidding, just kidding! We are die-hard Americans, so all we wanted was to work in Canada without the hassle of renewing our paperwork all of the time.

Almost 2 years ago to the day, we started the permanent residency process. It's not supposed to take two years to complete, but they're also not supposed to lose your paperwork.

When they do lose your paperwork, you have to go back to the border and renew your work permit every two years until they find your paperwork again. And waiting at the border means wearing a face like Sawyer there, above.

Today we went again, and of course I took my camera. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. I kept it handy and chronicled what happens to you while you wait for your papers to be processed by an agent:

You arrive and take a seat, thankful that there isn't a line.

It isn't long before you realize the lack of a line was a lie.
.

So you wait.

And wait.

And wait. Your head sinks lower with your hopes.

Some acclimate to waiting easier than others.
Dr. Suess-ish, ya think?

Here's the happy family. Yay.

Someone's in trouble for something.

All manner of bad behavior evidences itself while waiting here.

It's satan. I just know it.

And when you get really bored, you result to things like this:
nostril bokeh

So, the short version is, now we are the happy recipients of work papers, good 'til 2012. And now there are TWO faces to choose from when you find yourselves in a line waiting for something that could have been preempted by competent behavior on the part of the government (and I really hope they don't read this blog).

Take your pick:

2008 2010

Raw Footage

2010-04-09T10:06:00.001-04:00

I just found this on my camera-- What my children do with the talent God's given them.

Lumber Jack

2010-04-09T06:00:00.006-04:00

Did you know that before you can set up a 14 foot trampoline in your backyard, you have to clear a place for it? Because it just can't fit in the same space as 36 twelve foot 2by4's. That's a lot of numbers in a row, and I'm not promising I got any of them correct. Let's just say a trampoline can't share the same space with a LOT of lumber.

Although Tristan started the job, it was too much for a little guy. So a big guy took over.
He did the whole thing.

Who's cloaked beneath this hooded benevolence?

His name is Greyson Jack.

He's cool. He has an iPod. And the look. And the attitude. And Easter egg chocolate on his upper lip tying it all together.

How cool is that?

Chez Sawyer

2010-04-08T11:20:00.004-04:00

"Hey, Sawyer, what'cha doing?"

I just love this little face.

He's very busy.
And cute.
And munchable.

I can't stand it.

Today he hurt his heel somehow and came to me saying,
"Mom, my foot elbow hurts."

I really can't stand it.

"Hey Sawyer, is your restaurant open for business yet?"

I see the makings of a fine menu.

Condiments and wood screws.

I've eaten worse.

Adventures With an Umbrella

2010-04-06T15:44:00.001-04:00

Our new deck needed a new patio table. And then our new patio table needed a new patio umbrella.

Sawyer had a brilliant idea.

Which was quickly confiscated by Tristan. Older brother's have the power to do this. Do NOT take your good ideas to them.

They'll let you help, but they almost always take over the implementation of a good idea because they can see so clearly how it should be done.

Unless Mom intervenes.

Time to see if it works.

And if there's a problem, suddenly the good idea will revert back to being the little brother's idea.

Which will need a quick assessment...

And then Big Brother is back to being the boss and Little Brother is relegated to being the umbrella holder.

But little brothers almost never just hold an umbrella.

Because that's not what they were meant for.

Umbrellas were meant for twirling, and swinging, and poking eyes out and such.

Like so.

But back to the business at hand--

Just try as hard as you can...

And if that doesn't work, MAKE it work-- by trying what didn't work before, a little harder.

Are you getting all this down, Sawyer?

Little Hands

2010-04-04T18:19:00.007-04:00

What's there in your hand, Tristan?

Note the condition of the hand. This hand would reach into a bag of chips if I let it.

It never ONCE enters their mind to leave the creek, or pause drawing on the driveway with chalk because their hands are dirty.

It just isn't an issue.

Unless they are sticky from Popsicle juice, because that won't wipe off on shorts.

But just about everything else can be found right at home on their hands at any given time.

Worms included.

They've Always Wanted a Treehouse

2010-04-03T09:37:00.001-04:00

Doesn't every kid?

So Tristan made one.

It made me wonder what else could have happened if we'd had these boards earlier in his life.

Sawyer was too small to navigate the tricky path it took to sit on these boards, but he didn't seem to mind.

He's either completely at home with the world, or taking evasive action against boards dropping from the sky.

I think the former.

With Sawyer, no state of being lasts long. I'm across the yard, snapping away, waiting to see if anything transpires.

Oop, looks like something might be going on here...

What could that look mean? How did he even know I was taking pictures of him?

From this...

...to this, in a matter of seconds.

It's so hard, being a Sawyer.

Do Skunks Pee on Food?

2010-04-02T18:04:00.004-04:00

These are the kinds of questions it is handy to have an answer for when you become a mother. Nobody tells you you'll be needing this information. I believe, if investigated, we would find enough knowledge tucked away in the folds of a mother's brain between-- "Mom, why do they call it 'Good Friday' shouldn't they call it Bad Friday?" and "Mom, could there ever be another color?"-- that it could qualify all moms for an honorary doctorate. Sadly, only their kids are privy to this information because only their kids ask. But we have our own reward, because as every mom knows, if you get to the origin of the question you'll hit pay dirt.
Case in point-- "Do Skunks Pee on Food?"

Here is what it looks like when a skunk has not rooted up your yard for grubs:

Here is what it looks like when a skunk has rooted up your yard for grubs:

We know it was a skunk doing the rooting because last year we saw him making his nightly rounds rooting up our neighbors' yards. He never visited our yard and that is how I knew we didn't have grubs, information that served me well in negotiating a price on our yard service. I felt smug about this until yesterday.

Here is what it looks like when Sawyer decides to have a picnic on our driveway.

And here is the conversation that proceeded the picnic:

"Mom, do skunks pee on food?"

sproinging sound of brain leaving current task of business on computer
Rolodex in brain spinning wildly-- skunk-- food-- pee-- computing outcome...

"No."

He is obviously relieved as he replies, "Whew, good" and then continues with just a hint of self-importance as if informing me of something I didn't know, "because if they did, and I ate it, you would have to give me a potato bath!"
He turns to leave with an aren't-you-glad look. And I try not to laugh because I know he is really referring to the old remedy of taking a tomato juice bath to remove skunk odor. Tomato, potato, it's all good.

He's happy with the results of his inquiry.

But just in case, there's an ample supply of potatoes on hand.

Here is what Tristan had for his picnic.

Ten pound sack ought to be enough to cover both.

It's Starting....

2010-03-31T19:26:00.000-04:00

This is what spring looks like here.

No daffodils.

No tulips.

Just, the crocus.

One.

Wait, Tristan found a purple one.

With the yellow one, that makes two.

Two crocuses. Croci?

We're so deprived here, after living in 7 feet of snow.

It doesn't take much to make us happy.

Lessons From a Cat

2010-03-31T17:42:00.000-04:00

When life has a strangle hold on me I am never as submissive as Merri. I am petulant, and moody, and bemoan my plight. It doesn't ever get me anywhere though. Maybe Merri has learned that lesson. She'll just lay there waiting for a chance to make a break for it. Hey, that doesn't sound like a bad idea either....

The Animal Chair

2010-03-27T12:55:00.000-04:00

If you sit in this chair to watch TV, you will always have a friend or two.

This was the first time a rabbit jumped up and voluntarily offered his companionship.

We should have expected it of Charlie. He loves everyone.

When you forget to rub his head, he scoots it under your hand to remind you.

Such a sweet little thing.

It's Ugly, but it Works...

2010-03-26T06:19:00.000-04:00

The weather is warming up and Big Sister is eager to bring her rabbits outside. But alas, this depends on the construction of a new rabbit cage for the backyard. The old one is beyond repair.
Should she wait on Daddy to get his tools out and build a new cage?
Or should she take the matter into her own hands?

It's amazing what you can find in the garage. Enough boards and enough supports to keep them from falling over. So what looks like a junk yard...

Is now a rabbit run.

With a boys' side...

And a girls' side.

Squirt bottles come in handy when there's a scuffle to break up. Shiloh, our black and white lop, hasn't taken to Scooter, our gray grandpa, but a few episodes with the squirt bottle changed Shiloh's mind.

I don't know how bunnies decide who they want to be friends with. Our brown and white bunny, Charlie, gets along with everyone. You can see here that he and Scooter are the best of friends, while Shiloh sets sullenly by. Maybe he doesn't want to share Charlie?

I feel like I'm back in 3rd grade at recess.

And, let's see...what else is going on in the backyard?

Oh. Here's Tristan.

Remember when you could do this and no one would question it? Try it as an adult and suddenly you're weird.

I miss being a kid.

Someone to Watch Over Me...

2010-03-25T15:19:00.002-04:00

What have we here? It seems someone has taken it upon themselves to make sure Juliette, our new bunny, has everything she needs.

Including a napkin.

And baby toys. Hey, I was saving those! Nothing is sacred around here, nothing.

Julietttt's Place. With 4 t's. I think it lends it a certain pizzzzazzzz.

So, who is responsible for all this?

Aw, Sawyer. Do you love Julietttte?

Are you taking some water to her? Where is she?

Hiding in the pet supply closet. Scared to death.

I think Julietttte's Place might go under-appreciated.

You Know You're Ugly When...

2010-03-24T20:33:00.005-04:00

I've never been a natural beauty. I have some friends that look as fresh-faced without makeup as they do with it. But when I don't put on my makeup people tend to say,
"Are you okay?"
Makeup does a LOT for me.
Today I had to make a trip over the border into America to see an allergist. I could have seen one here, but it would have taken a couple of months. I've been feeling sick, and I had no energy this morning to do my hair OR my makeup. I pulled up to the border crossing and the agent took my passport. He held it up next to my face and said, "I have a hard time believing this is you," not realizing he'd just given me the biggest slam a woman could receive. But I was at my worst so I just accepted it as the truth. I've had a hard time believing my own face lately when I look in the mirror. If I'd had my makeup kit with me I could have whipped it out then and there and blown his mind away, I imagine.
While he was thinking stolen passport, suspected criminal activity, I was thinking, I knew I should have done my eyes...
I put on my best smile.
"Are you okay?" he responded.
I said, "Well, I am going to see a doctor."
"Well, you don't look well enough to drive."
"Really?" I said.
"Really."
"Well, I am on medication."
"Well, you look like you could pass out and I don't want you to get hurt."
"Really?!"
"I'm serious." he said with a grave expression.
I was at a loss. I'd never been held up at the border before, I feebly offered the only thing that came to mind...
"I've made it this far." (Did I just say that?)
There was a slight pause as I held my breath, then he reluctantly handed me my passport and waved me through.

Morale of the story: Never, ever, do yourself up good for a passport photo, or at the very least, do your eyes before crossing the border.

That's Not a Good Sign

2010-03-22T10:50:00.000-04:00

For those of you who've been looking for The House of Miscellaneous and Unidentifiable Items, we've found it for you. It's straight ahead.

The Best Place to Have Pneumonia

2010-03-21T21:42:00.003-04:00

This weekend we were supposed to go away for our anniversary and I thought I'd be too sick, but it was either have pneumonia at home or have pneumonia in Lake Placid. I had my doubts, but after I walked into our room and saw this:

They melted away.

It was a nice big room.

With a kitchen, which we didn't use because...

We could order room service.

I like room service. With Pumpkin Spice Bread Pudding.

The best thing about the bathroom...

was the heated floor. I never knew I needed a heated floor, but I'd trade my car for one.

Everywhere you looked, you saw special touches. Like water with glasses you could use...

and cross-country skis that you couldn't.

I forgot to show you the lobby. One side,

And the other.

Wood, everywhere.

And places to sit. If you look at the couch on the right, you can still see my imprint. You sit a lot when you have pneumonia.

The way upstairs to the restaurant...

...where we ate all our meals because they were included in the special deal we got.

And Providence had us seated by this huge fireplace, every time! Perfect.

We took a tour of the grounds and saw the Clubhouse.

Heated pool, with a heated sidewalk that leads alllll the way up to the hotel there, in the background.

Hot tub. Which we didn't use because pneumonia and outdoor hot tubs don't mix.

Fire pit. Todd.

Clubhouse from the outside, sans Todd.

The grounds were sprinkled with unexpected findings like this lean-to by the lake so you can watch the ice skaters and be protected from the wind.

And unexpected guests.

We were content to spend the whole weekend just in the hotel. You could go exploring and run into...

an ice cream parlor downstairs.

Movie theater. Todd.

Bowling alley, sans Todd.

We only ventured to town once, and I only found one thing to take a picture of there...

This sign in a PriceChopper Grocery Store window. Don't you find it oddly specific?

They're putting pressure on all the other businesses: "Fiction and Non-fiction Books Sold Here" is sure to follow.

It was the best vacation ever. The perfect place to celebrate 17 years together, pneumonia or sans pneumonia.

Yesterday

2010-03-18T10:47:00.001-04:00

I've been too sick to think about more than laundry and schoolwork, but yesterday at about 3:00, the kids discovered that it was St. Patrick's Day. The took the holiday into their own hands. No green shirts?
Washable markers substituted.

Sawyer almost couldn't believe it was permissible to draw on himself.

He took full advantage.

And McKenna whipped up a lemon cake with this frosting, and it was the best frosting we've ever had.

(Best to eat it all the first day though).

They got in a good round of pinching before any of this happened. Sawyer couldn't believe it was permissible to pinch his siblings, and I'm still not sure he understands. But any holiday where he's asked to draw on himself and inflict pain on others is good enough for him.

The Opening of the Pool

2010-03-18T07:36:00.002-04:00

Can you tell there's water in there and Beaver isn't just pretending to float in a yellow boat on the bottom of a mud caked sand box lid?

They lack for no ingenuity. I can say with all certainty, that having a mess of a yard has contributed to the imagination of my children. That water bottle was left over from the team that did our roof and lay dormant under the snow until spring's thaw, and now, wallah! A raft!

And did you know a trebuchet doubles as a car? It kind of reminds me of Fred Flintstones vehicle.

Incidentally, "trebuchet" was NOT in my spell-checker when it indentified it as a mistake. I had to go to dictionary.com to see if I spelled it correctly. And I'd like to know why a word defined as:

a medieval engine of war with a sling for hurling missiles,

is NOT considered pertinent for today's readers?

Every year when the snow is (mostly) melted and the sun can warm your back, they break out the kitchens.

Each differs in design depending on what's available for confiscation.

Let's take a closer look at what's for dinner:

Dinosaur soup. Or a hot tub.

You decide.

Those aren't freckles.

Remember the herd that was only thawed out yesterday?

Here they are, conspicuously apart from the pool scene.

"What about those animals?" I asked Sawyer.

"They aren't invited. They have to make their own place," he returned dispassionately.

I'm telling you, our backyard is a hard land.

How to Use a Baseball Bat

2010-03-17T06:00:00.003-04:00

Get a firm grip.

Because we all know what can happen...

When you're trying to free frozen animals.

And if a bat won't work...

A stick can usually do the trick.

I'm suddenly reminded...

It's a delicate operation, and it's time to call in Stage 3.

And when your kid comes in and says "Mom, I have to fill this with really hot water.."

You don't ask questions.

Because there's always a good reason.

I'm freeeeeeeeeeeee, just in time for spring frolicking! Scampering! And general springtime scuttling!

Disappointed!

Suddenly, Tristan thought if he had freed one animal with hot water, spraying it haphazardly around the yard was bound to yield more.

And uncharacteristically for a hair-brained idea, it worked!

"What--what just happened to me?"
"Welcome to the herd. Get used to it buddy, this is as good as it gets."

What Have We Here?

2010-03-16T06:01:00.000-04:00

Can somebody go get the towel laundry?

Woops.

Sorry, Charlie.
Nevermind about the laundry.

Hey, go grab that bag of clothes for Goodwill.

Whoa! I beg your pardon.

Really, I didn't know anyone was in here.

How can I make it up to you?

That ought to do it.

A little more, right on top.

You're welcome.

Somebody, let the cat out of the bag.

Introducing...

2010-03-16T06:00:00.001-04:00

Juliette.

Our smallest bunny yet.

Someone saw our ad for a Standard Rex and really wanted a good home for this Mini Rex.

So we decided to make room for her. She is just a wee bit of a thing.

How to Confuse Little Minds

2010-03-15T08:51:00.003-04:00

"What's that say?", he said, gesturing towards the window with the "H-o-p-e" sign. Trisha had given it to me as a Christmas ornament years ago, but I'd hung it in the window over the kitchen sink where it stays all year round. That way I am reminded daily to hope.

(Incidentally, I discovered the best camera setting to enhance a dirty windows effect)

I was surprised he'd never asked about the sign before. Maybe it was new to him because I'd cleaned all the cobwebs off of it. (there's a picture for you, the word "Hope" covered with cobwebs). I'm not good at dusting window hanging things, they can collect dust for years before I notice. Anyway, Sawyer asked "what's that say?" and I answered "Hope" and then he said in a puzzled voice, "What does it say 'Hope' for?" and I answered, "Because we can have Hope that Jesus came to earth when he was a baby--" but before I could finish, Kiki pointed out that Sawyer was really talking about something a few inches under the Hope sign.

Sitting on the windowsill was his potted basil plant, that Kiki was so kind to have made a new sign for.

If I were him, I'd be intrigued what hoping in Jesus had to do with growing basil too.

So I nixed the story and said, "Oh, that. It says, 'Basil'". And that was that. Although it's not a bad idea to label my potted plants with the word 'Hope'. At the rate that they expire in this household, I'd say it's a pretty accurate classification.

When Typos Make SEnse

2010-03-14T12:05:00.001-04:00

I've never been a very good typist. I can still hear the drills Mr. Shuffleburger made us do in 7th grade--asdf space jkl;--and I can type without looking, fingers flying. But if I left my emails completely uncorrected you'd see they are even worse than what shows up in your inbox. Lately, a few of my mistakes could have passed for real words.
When talking about my mom's heart condition that has to be controlled before she can go into surgery I said, "She has to get her heart murmur under control with medication or it could cause a stork in the operating room."
When making a list of party foods for Todd via email I typed:
Super bad ruggles (big bag of ruffles potato chips)

and for a post on breakfast I typed:
Bluberry muffins? (I was all out of blubber, so substituted bacon fat, instead) shedder shedder, which is another typo because i meant to type, shudder-shudder but you could use those terms interchangeably, because shedding does make me shudder if it's left all in one pile on a surface meant for humans.

Morning Routine

2010-03-14T10:32:00.000-04:00

Hey, Sawyer...

What do you want for breakfast?

Blueberry Muffins?

he's thinking about it

Oatmeal?

he's disinclined

Cookies?

automatic eye-contact for cookies. try it, it works with any kid.

You knew I was just kidding about the cookies, right?

But we just might have some bran bud cereal left.

The Skateboard Park

2010-03-12T13:59:00.001-05:00

We never made it to the huge indoor skateboard park over spring break because the kids had no shoes. They left their shoes at basketball practice and the only way to get them back was to wait for the next practice. So they donned Heely's and embarrassingly worn out Crocs and we went to the local outdoor skateboard park:

He was too scared to try this ramp, but it was useful for hanging on to escape the red hot lava.

He knew it was too steep because he did a test run with just the empty skateboard.

Ready,

Set,

Go!

Test results showed that sitting was the preferred mode of travel.

Through the Lens

2010-03-11T06:00:00.001-05:00

You can see a lot through the lens of a camera. Discoveries are everywhere. For instance...

Our Christmas lights are falling down. I suppose if we wait long enough they'll unstring themselves and save us a lot of work.

I was experimenting with the ISO button (I should know what that stands for). Here you can see the last dapples of the winter sun...
Incidentally, remember on The Today Show, or is it Good Morning America, when the hosts are in Times Square and behind them you can see the audience holding up signs and trying to get on camera?

Tristan would be one of those people.

Sawyer was outside practicing with his Heelys and waiting for Kiki to walk the dog so he could tag along.

Here he is noticing that he missed her,

and that she had the audacity to leave without him.

Listening to my counsel.

And finding it lacking.

Really lacking.

Life is over.

Really over.

Until the neighbor kids come out to play.

The occasion of neighbor kids coming out to play has headed off many a trauma.

What I Love About Kids

2010-03-10T06:00:00.001-05:00

Do you know what I love about kids?

They can have Nacho Cheese lips and a dirt smudge nose, and not know. Or care.

And when they take their hood off...

They never check their hair.

Surgery

2010-03-09T06:03:00.003-05:00

Here is Tristy's guitar, in for minor surgery. It needs its stock pickups changed for better pickups. Or so they tell me. All I know is that it reminds me of the game "Operation" by Milton Bradley. Remember that game?

Daddy was the surgeon, and Tristan was the assistant.

Which means he did a lot of this.

While Daddy did a lot of this.

It always seems like a good idea to involve the kids in how-to projects but somehow they seem to just watch aimlessly while the grown-ups do all the work.

Ah, the glorious Fender Stratocaster, an American Icon. Wait..."made in Mexico"...what?

The way of all Americana--outsourcing.

While Tristan was busy "assisting", Sawyer was waiting impatiently to go outside with him. "When are you going to be done? When? When? When?" Finally, Sawyer gave up. This is his face for that--

He took his forlorn-ness outside into the big lonely world. To skateboard, alone. And ride his bike, alone.
But since he isn't allowed to leave the driveway, alone, he promptly came back in to say...
"When are you going to be done, Tristan? When are you going to be done, Tristan? When are you going to be done, Tristan? When?"

It's a never ending cycle.

And I wonder, it's such a forlorn face for such a little hurt, compared to the hurts of adult life. But since they are small, maybe the little hurts hurt just as much from their perspective.
Ya, know?
So I hobbled outside with my broken toe and watched the road for him so he could play with abandon.

Mom's are made for these types of things.

Until our fingers start to freeze.
Then we go back inside and make Tristan come outside whether he's ready to or not.

Outside

2010-03-08T06:00:00.002-05:00

Most of North America is enjoying the inklings of Spring.

This is the only green thing in my yard.

Winter's fingers are slowly uncurling their icy grasp.

For the first time in months the kids are able to go outside...

And do things like ride a bike.

There is enough sun to make you squint.

Kiki came out to walk the dog.

Tristan came out to hang his Heely's off the windowsill. Because it was such a kid thing to do.

And lay in the last snow drift.

So we could enhance our reputation as "that family". You know, "those people".

Thank you, Tristan!

When Cinnamon Rolls Aren't Welcome...

2010-03-06T09:22:00.006-05:00

Our family is weird, even for here. Case in point:

Recently we were invited over to a friend's house for a sleepover. "Bring your ice skates!" they said.
"We don't have any iceskates." I admitted sadly.

"But we can bring our Supersoaker 3000."

There it is, in the middle of winter, in the middle of the backyard. Actually, it's the end of winter, but it has sat right there through the season, handy for all those snowball/watergun fights everyone has.

In Canada, EVERYONE has ice skates. I suppose if we had grown up here, our garage would be littered with various pairs of out-grown ice skates that we could dig through until we found some that fit. But we spent too much time in Los Angeles and ice skates just aren't in our blood.

Cinnamon rolls, on the other hand, are. I made these from the Pioneer Woman's recipe that's big enough to make 7 pans full! The idea is to share. Hayley did it. She passed them out to people in her apartment complex. But when you live in Canada, you find out that's not such a good idea. I learned my lesson when I tried to spread Christmas cheer. The first year we moved here I gave 4 of our neighbors plates of Christmas cookies. They all acted surprised, but not in a good way. In a puzzled way. I asked a friend, "Do people give cookies to their neighbors here?"
"No."
So if you come to visit, don't say "hi" to anyone you pass in the street, and DON'T share your cinnamon rolls.
One thing you will find is the nicest drivers. They let you ahead, they let you go first, they let you in. They are very polite in traffic, things only go awry when baked goods get involved.

Back to these. It would be nice to think I rose when it was still dark and had them on the table for breakfast. In reality, I made them in the afternoon and was so tired after it all that I hadn't the energy to make dinner. So we ate them instead. Cinnamon rolls for dinner!? Did I really just admit to that?
To redeem myself I'll show you what we had for breakfast today...

Much better.

Although...

I'm not sure what the significance is of the ambulance there on standby in the background.

Thirty Degrees and S'mores

2010-03-05T06:00:00.001-05:00

Oh, how we long for spring. Until it comes I guess we'll keep enjoying winter. Day, after day, after day, after day.

March! And Roasting marshmallows.

I have no idea how my camera did this.

But, hey, isn't that my barbecue fork?!

Whatever works.

They were bound and determined to make s'mores.

With Aero bars. Do you have those in the states?

Eating them was a two-handed operation.

Am I going to regret we chose to do this 30 minutes before bedtime?

They're giggling, they're piercing the air with screams of joy.

Was it worth it?

Oh, yes.

Shiloh's Towel

2010-03-04T06:00:00.002-05:00

Whatever you do, don't touch the towel...

It's mine.

On a Dare...

2010-03-03T08:13:00.000-05:00

Someone dared me to post a picture of my broken toe. I won't say who because their inbox would likely be flooded with a host of complaints, but the person (who's name rhymes with taj, as in, mahal) is going to get that dare accepted. I'm going to copy a technique the Pioneer Woman uses and if you are squeamish about bruised flesh DON'T scroll down. Others who are curious about what it looks like when the tip of the big toe gets broken into 4 pieces, tallyho!
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It isn't a very focused picture because I've never taken a picture of my big toe, and because soon after I attempted to...

Jupiter got involved. He thought the photo session was an invitation to use my foot as a rubbing post. Oh, the pain! Don't ever let a cat rub against your broken toe. It feels like those bumps Fred Flintstone used to get on the head that would magically sprout and throb.

I Should Have Stubbed My Toe....aka, The Loooongest Post

2010-03-02T06:00:00.018-05:00

It took six hours to find out my toe was broken in 4 places. They taped it and sent me home. They don't cast the tip of the big toe. So I'll use a cane for 2 weeks and be as good as new.
Since changing the American healthcare system is much in the news, it strikes me that now would be a good time to go on a diatribe about my experience with socialized medicine. Care to hear?

"Free" health care here is costing our family $25,000 a year in taxes. For that sum, we get no doctor, and no assurance that we will be cared for when we need it. When I say no doctor, I mean there's no way to look in the yellow pages and call a doctor's office. They all work for the government, remember. So you are reduced to going to a clinic or hospital. Private medicine is not allowed. You can have a family doctor if you can find one, but when you somehow find a number to call, and ask, "I'm new here and looking for a family doctor.", the receptionist will likely laugh at you (true story). That's IF you can get through to the receptionist. And typically, appointments are made three months from when you call. So for urgent care it doesn't help to have a "family doctor".

Say you have troubling symptoms like shortness of breath and decide to go to the emergency room. You are triaged by a nurse who gets to decide how dire your circumstances are and then sent to wait. In my case, 16 hours (and I'm not exaggerating) Of course, it depends on how many people are in more dire straights then yourself that day, and you might get lucky and only wait for 5 or 6 hours. You may well be saying to yourself, well, I've waited in an emergency room here in America for 6 hours. Yes, but did you pay $25,000 a year to do it?

When I said earlier that you have no assurance of being cared for I mean that before you can be treated for a troubling illness you must first see a specialist. To see a specialist you must first see a general practitioner. After waiting 6 hours to 3 months to see the GP you will be given a slip to see a specialist. "Finally, we're getting somewhere," you'll say as you call the phone number given. That hope dies away as your appointment is made 6 months to a year away. Or more. (no, I'm not exaggerating). Imagine this conversation:
"Hello, I'm calling for an appointment with the dermatologist."
"For what?"
"For skin cancer."
"Okay, the next appointment is in 8 months."
"Well, if I might possibly have skin cancer are you sure it's okay to wait that long?"
"I have 9:00, Jan. 17 in the year 2011." the receptionist will reply.
sigh
"If I die before then how do I let you know so someone else can have the appointment?"

Remember when I said there are no doctors listed in the yellow pages? You can find 295 dental entries for the area--because they are not free-- because you have to pay for them--because the government does not. I could get an appointment tomorrow because dentistry is based (mostly) on a capitalist system.
The town I go to for healthcare had an official population of 42,000 in 2006. You can imagine it's grown since then, thus the 295 listings for dentists. Yet, I can only think of four places in town you can go to see a doctor. And when you go, there is only ONE doctor available to see patients. No wonder the waiting rooms are chock full.

As I sat in the waiting room this morning, where every seat was full, and a sign was put up at 10:00 saying "Emergency Closed", meaning, "our sickness queue is full for the day, please take your illness elsewhere", as I sat there, I couldn't help but want to stand up and announce: "It doesn't have to be this way! You could open the yellow pages, see scores of doctors' offices you could call and get an appointment with this week, if not TODAY! You could walk in, barely have time to sit down before they called your name and then be escorted by a real nurse to see your very own doctor! And he would have another nurse there to help him! And you'd see another nurse as you left, just to tell you goodbye and have a nice day!".
But I didn't say a thing. I just sat there and listened to the receptionist announce numbers until she got to mine--"sixty-seven?"

There may be people in Canada that could tell you a different, more pleasant story about their healthcare experience, although, my friend Julie, who is a doctor here has had similar, nightmarish experiences and she is a DOCTOR. For my part, I've lived in the states with private insurance, group insurance, no insurance, HMO insurance and I can tell you, all of it, ALL of it, was better than socialized medicine. Even if I had a horrible illness and had to mortgage my house for healthcare, I'd much rather be well-cared for and face poverty than be getting "free" healthcare and never know if I was going to make it through the waiting list alive.

Some Canadians have a poor view of the American medical system. I've heard a few arguments against it. They say people are turned away from emergency rooms. Actually, that's against the law, everyone must be treated. Another argument is that you can go in for a simple procedure and be handed a bill for $10,000. My answer is that none of my healthcare bills in America ever totaled $25,000 much less the $225,000 that we've paid to date for our healthcare in Canada. The other complaint is that poor people suffer because they can't afford health care in America. In reailty, there is free healthcare available to poor Americans, provided by the taxpayer. It's called the County system. Our own little socialized system, but we are taxed MUCH less for it. If you are an American reading this, who has been helped by the County system and thought it was sub-standard care, well, that's what you'd be getting if you lived here, with NO choice for something better.

What has this diatribe led me to?

After living under both systems for several years I've come to a simple conclusion:

Capitalism works.

Socialism--not so much.

Spring Break!

2010-03-01T12:14:00.000-05:00

Aw, the glories of spring! Behold, the crocus, the sunny daffodil, each heralding the coming of a new season.
Or, if you live here, soggy snow with more to come, burying any hope beneath it.
I went to the clinic today, to get help for my big toe. I dropped a barbell on it. Which was ironic because I had just been thinking "If I leave this barbell on the floor it would really hurt if I stubbed my toe on it. I better put it up here on the table." It wasn't on the table long before it was knocked off and landed with a bang squarely on my big toe.
It only took an hour at the clinic for them to tell me to come back at 12:30 and then, maybe then, if the doctor was in a good humor, they might condescend to tend to pesky people who drop barbells on their toes.
But this post isn't about that. It's about what I found when I came home.
It was a heartening sight. They had been doing schoolwork instead of running wild. McKenna said, "Mom! I found out the most exciting thing in my science book!" And then proceeded to explain to me that gravity wasn't really a force at all, but space, bending. Did you know that time and space bend? Or so theorizes Albert Einstein.
Then it was Tristan's turn. He asked, "Mom, what's 'lad'?"
Oh, I thought, he's reading those quaint readers from the old days where they use phrases like lad and lass.
"It means a boy." I informed him proudly.
"Oh, because on Spongebob, Mr. Crabs is always calling him 'lad'".
We hit both ends of the spectrum today. It's 12:11, time to back to the clinic and hope they will see me.

Quietly Plotting

2010-02-27T06:00:00.002-05:00

We let the rabbits our of their cages every day, so they can stretch their legs and explore in the rabbit room.
This is how Snickers and Coconut choose to spend their cage-free time:

Huddled on top of a bag of shavings.

Eyeing me and my camera lens suspiciously.

It must be an interesting life, sitting on top of a bag of shavings, on top of a plank, on top of an aquarium.

Kiki came down to see how they were doing and thought they were gone. Actually, now that I think about it, that might have been their intention in the first place. It's a great way to make a break for it later. Yes, yes, let's take another look at that earlier picture...

"She's found us! I told you this wasn't going to work!"
"Shush! It's not over yet, just hold still. I heard they can't see you if you don't move."

Vicariously

2010-02-26T06:00:00.002-05:00

Welcome to the "Indoor Lesson Skateboard Park", as so christened by Sawyer. You can see the cool lego guy there, at the counter, center, and the stack of gigantic money to the right of it. I'd hate to have to handle those bills. I have enough trouble with the regular sized ones in my own wallet.

Supplies.

And this is where all the action takes place.

Breathtaking, isn't it?

I mean, really. Think about being lego size and having to tackle that ramp. And attempting a grind on that, that, box.

Good job, Sawyer.

He's been asking every hour of every day when we get to go. Poor kid finally had to make his own.
Here are some more things he's been doing lately:

Only Human

We were discussing our new bunny and had this conversation--

Kiki: He's not afraid of humans

Sawyer: Is he afraid of me?

Mom: No, he's not afraid of kids.

Sawyer: Am I a human, Mom?

Who's Calling?

Sawyer heard me answer the phone and then hang up.

Sawyer: Who was it?

Me: Wrong Number.

Sawyer: (in incredulous tone) His name was Wrong Number?!

Empty Noggin?

We were talking about how tall we all measured and Tristan claimed he was 5 feet tall so we had to compare him to Daddy. Sawyer must have gotten age and height mixed up because he proclaimed: "Guys, Dad is 44, and Mom is 45." Kiki replied, "Sawyer! We are talking about how TALL Dad is, not how OLD he is!

What is going on inside of your little brain?!"

"NOTHING." he retorted.

Age Wins

Sawyer was trying to finagle a trip to the Skateboard Park and had already talked to Daddy about it. Next, he came to me and asked if we could go. I said I didn't think so because Daddy had already said no.

"How old are you Mom?" he asked.

"Forty-Five"

"How old is Dad?"

"Forty-Four"

"Well, aren't you older?" he reasoned.

In a kid's economy the oldest one wins.

Saving Shiloh

2010-02-25T06:00:00.000-05:00

Don't let the cute face fool you.

Or the adorable washing of the paws.

Or the huge-ness of the hind feet.

This bunny has issues. His former owners were alarmed at how aggressive he was and took him to the vet to be put down. A Rabbit Rescue contacted us and asked if we might rehabilitate him.

McKenna was all for it.

We brought him home, and so far, he has lunged, grunted, charged, and boxed the air whenever anyone comes into his territory (cage).

But outside of his cage, he does cute things, like you see above.

McKenna has a lot of experience with bunnies, so she is not afraid of him. She thinks we should keep him.

She thinks we should name him Shiloh.

I think we should name him Mr. Grumpypants.
Stay tuned...

MOM, Come Look, On the Side of the House!

2010-02-24T06:00:00.007-05:00

The kids found an icicle bush.

So they did what any self-respecting kid would do,

and harvested some.

The coolest looking one also doubled as...

A gun. sigh. Just about everything around here doubles as a gun.

What are you guys doing?

This is a perfect example of caught-in-the-act face.
Guns this, ladders that, I tell ya, it's a dangerous world. They ought to make a board game for kids like mine:
"Guns and Ladders"

This was a necessity to reach a really cool icicle they saw way up high.

Incidentally, this is also what little brothers were created for--holding the ladder-- because they'll do it without question. "Come hold the ladder so I can reach that bucket of nails perched on top of that voltage tower overlooking that broken glass that looks like a gun."

"Okay."

Little brothers are good that way.

I hope this is worth it.

Yep. It was worth it.

And they learned some valuable skills ta' boot-- problem solving, team-work, harvesting, and an eye for icicle art.

Charlie Claims His Next Box

2010-02-23T06:00:00.000-05:00

Charlie and Jupey have established a strange struggle for power in :

King of the Box

Someone's in the Basement

2010-02-22T10:15:00.000-05:00

Introducing, the basement man:

Not only is he in the basement, but he's in a closet in the basement no less. Is it possible for a scarier scenario in a kid's life? I wonder if they can ever grow up normal now?

He even scares me when I forget about him and whip on the light to store some clothes or something.
Poor little closet man. He didn't ask to be a horror, it just can't be helped. He started out as a life-size model for Todd's paintings. Colonial era, can you tell? But now he's relegated to haunting childrens' dreams.

It's especially fun when someone comes over to spend the night. The kids have all kinds of entertaining ways to introduce their friends to....the basement man--bwah-ha-ha-ha!

Box-ing Match

2010-02-18T17:39:00.001-05:00

Our bunny Charlie has made himself right at home. I don't think he had cats in his old house. He decided Jupiter was worth investigating...

It's kind of hard to feel sorry for him like I did at first. In fact, I'd say it's an even match.

Training Interrupted

2010-02-18T14:33:00.000-05:00

There are times during the day that I pull my kids aside and talk to them seriously about some matter that they need a little help in, such as-- don't hit your sister. They look at me during these serious talks with a face like this:

But today, they included a face like this:

And it was very hard to keep a straight face and continue with my little lecture because I knew what they were looking at.

Tristan needed at little talk today too.

And he also included this face. I can't say I blame him.

Fashion Fail.

It ain't pretty. It's convenient.

Could Have Been a Restaurant

2010-02-17T14:23:00.001-05:00

Everyone had something different for lunch today. They all made their own.

Tristan opted for the ol' standby.

(incidentally, isn't it amazing how clay can mimic dirty fingernails?)

Greyson had a vanilla shake because he was sick and that was all that sounded good.

Kiki made chicken noodle soup.

And Sawyer had a Lunchable because...

He made this face when he asked for one and I lost my resolve.

Tristan made the hoping-for-face and he got to pick out his own juice.

And they both went to the store and helped me pick out their choices. Which can be good and bad. You have two extra pairs of hands loading up the conveyor belt, but then you have two extra voices asking, "Can I have my juice? Where's my lunchable?" as they paw through the bags being loaded into the van. We all know, it might be lost forever in grocery bag land if you can't see it sitting there, accessible and available, right on top.

In a Sawyer World

2010-02-15T17:31:00.001-05:00

Today I was going over days of the week with Sawyer-- "Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday! Can you say them, Sawyer?"
He could. But that wasn't good enough for him.
"Mom, I wish there was another day."
"Like what?"
"Oh, like, like...um...like Nunday"
"What would you do on Nunday?"
"That would be the day I go at the Indoor Skateboard Park and learn a lesson. Everytime. Can we do that, can we?"
YES, we'll go next Nunday. And every Nunday after that. (because the Skateboard place he is talking about is several miles away and expensive)

I would like a Nunday too. But on my Nunday, none of the regular stuff in life would happen and all the stuff you were behind in would magically get caught up.

What would your Nunday be?

Mr. Tiger's Fate

2010-02-14T19:43:00.000-05:00

I was rescued from a block of ice by steaming hot water for this?

An Ear For It...

2010-02-12T06:00:00.003-05:00

After blogging about the kids' exploits for two years, you think I would have developed an ear for good material. Case in point: Tristan comes in the backdoor with a determined face, strips off his gloves and announces, "Mom, we need hot water. We need HOT water."
"Okay.." I answer distractedly as I type away on another post at the computer. "Just turn it all the way to hot and wait a little bit..." I can see a few moments later that he is carrying a mug outside.
Why am I not wondering what he is doing?
I don't even notice when he walks back in and rummages around under the sink, until he raises an old bottle and asks, "Mom, do you use this?"
I turn around to evaluate the item in question.
"Wait. Yes. You don't want to put hot water in that. Put hot water in this," I say as I walk over to the sink and hand him an old pitcher.
As I make my way back to the computer he explains, "We're saving the tiger, he's trapped in the ice. It's so cool."
Finally, my this-is-post-worthy brain kicks into gear and I race to put my boots and coat on. Where's the camera, where's the camera? I reach the back door just as everyone is tromping in-- The triumphant return with tiger in tow.
Too late.
Sigh.
Blogging has kept me from blogging.
I have no play-by-play pictures of the event and so I give you:

Tiger. Post ice.
Buddy, I'd feel the same way if I were you.

Somebody Turned Nine....

2010-02-11T11:09:00.002-05:00

Early Morning Loot.

Surveying the Field.

Scarey Cat.

just had to throw this one in here

Birthday Cake with Arm.

If you haven't guessed it by now, we had a birthday. Tristan's birthday. He ordered an Ice Cream Birthday Cake and I tried my best to oblige. I smushed two different flavors of ice cream into a pyrex with a layer of caramel sauce in between. And topped it with crushed Oreos and whipped cream.

It tasted really good.

He wanted M&M's on his, but they were too much for me. Doesn't cold, hard, chocolate bother you? So those got scraped off.

The caramel sauce I found at the store was perfect for an ice cream cake. And confusing at the same time. Have you ever seen this?

I think they use it here as some kind of breakfast condiment.

Quebecois please enlighten.

You can't beat the simple ingredients though, so I took a chance and bought it. It turned out to have the consistancy of peanut butter and it was not glisteny or stringy like you'd think a caramel spread would be.

I'm not sure what it's supposed to be used for.

But it was perfect for ice cream.

If you don't take away anything else from the post today, just remember this...

He's watching you.

Miracle?

2010-02-09T15:35:00.000-05:00

You know how people from time to time claim to have found a miraculous image of someone like Mary on a wall?

Or even claim to have seen the face of Jesus in a tortilla?

Well, we have had a visitation of our own.

In the spaghetti bowl....

Stick Man.

It's clear he is trying to escape.

"You'll never get out alive!" bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha!

Face your fears. Embrace the Ragu...

How to Put on a Basketball Jersey...

2010-02-08T12:10:00.000-05:00

Donning a basketball jersey is a simple matter. Most slip easily over your head.

First,

Find the neck hole.

And line it up.

Like...

So.

Once your jersey is on you can practice what the sport is all about...

"Did you know I know how to do this? It's easy. Watch."

Without a jersey, this would hardly be possible.

His Name...

2010-02-08T11:36:00.001-05:00

Merry, we've named the new bunny.

Daisy, Bonnie isn't Bonnie anymore.

Bonnie is...

Leaving! Wait, wait!

Whew, he's only going to his cage.

And by his cage, I mean...

Charlie's cage.

Charlie the bunny, resting in a pile of coats left on the floor.

I think he'll get along just fine in this household.

Thanks guys, for all the name suggestions. You made us laugh, you made us cry. Most of all, you met our needs and named our bunny.

Oh NO!

2010-02-05T09:48:00.000-05:00

Remember Bonnie?

Bonnie ain't Bonnie.

Bonnie is a boy! Now what are we gonna do?

First off, we need a name. So please help us out with any suggestions, even off the top of your head. She was advertised as a female. And I thought we ought to check. We've been rabbit owners long enough to know that when a baby is young, it's almost impossible to tell if it's male or female. And it is a likely scenario that a family could walk into a pet store, be told they were taking home a girl bunny, and just never check again. Even if they did check, they might not know. Then if they ever gave it away, they'd call it a "girl" and the hapless people who they gave it to...that's us!

WE were smart enough to check. And we didn't. So, it's our own fault.

Lesson learned.