Jessica's Blog

My kids hate to take showers.

All of them.

They hate it.

This only really becomes an issue when we go to our dream getaway at the Greenhorn Creek Guest Ranch because they only have showers in the rooms and cabins.

Showers conserve a lot more water.  Showers take up less space.  Showers are easier to clean.  Showers take less time to git the job done.  The kids hate showering.

So each time we go we face the same barrage of complaints.  Honey Girl whines and moans and Big Boy just tries to hide under or behind his bunk.  It's no matter if the shower is directed away from them and put on them only for wetting or rinsing.  They hate showers. 

We found simpel money to be a great motivator.  Money for fish food or air hockey for showering worked great until Honey Girl enjoyed showing folks that she was "rich" and enjoyed "sharing" he money with her friends... who she couldn't remember.... so they could all buy fish food.  Sweet, but who took the money?  What was their name?  Where are the now? 

Little Lady also almost joined in on the mutiny tuning up for her hysterical holler until I figured that if I used the washcloth on her instead of the shower stream, and showered with her,  she'd be fine.  She was.

The rest of the time, for Honey Girl, I am standing here with the shower door open coaching the 3 year old through the process.  Of course,  getting the floor soaked.  In a final fit of rage at the prospect of showering on one of our days at the ranch, Honey Girl *bright idea* kicked the shower door and cut her foot.  I think it was during the same hissie fit riddled showering of HoneyGirl experience I didn't know Little Lady had snuck into the bathroom behind me.  She slipped on the wet floor and smacked her head both on the cabinet and shower door on her way down.  I, of course, couldn't hear that she was in the bathroom over the sound of the water and Honey Girls' shall we say "issues"?  Hubby was wrangling Bog Boy back into clothing at the time.  Two good hollers and Little lady was fine.

While I could post a shout of of "how do you get  kids who love baths to get into the shower habit?"  I kind of liked our first baths upon returning home.  They were so happy to sit in the warm water.  They were so good at getting clean... it made up for all the hissies and such while at the ranch.  That, and it was clear they were actually more thorough  in washing at home.  They also went right to bed and slept perfectly.

How do you get your kids to like showers?

We're home.  yay. yipee.  so glad.  to be. home....not.

We've become a family that lives for our next fix of time with the Greenhorn Gang.  Time by the pond fishing.  Time in the chuckhouse with Mare and Carla, or listening to another cowboy tale from Ellie over our morning coffee.  Ellie is being inducted into the Canadian Cowboy Hall of Fame in October, and is doing so well. Time with my "boyfriend" the bartender Billy, or time out on the trail learning leads, continuing to perfect my seat, and cowboy poems from Ed.  Yes, I cowgirled up and had my yip n' holler rides through the trees and along fire roads.  I also had my peaceful walks along the babbling brooks, and heard the sound of winds coming and going through the pines all around me.  I had my horse spook from a stick kicked up by the horse ahead of it.  I had my body covered in dust and dirt only to have Shiela nuzzle me and add horse snot to the mix.  I became a faithful "Ed's Posse" member.  I watched as Honey Girl made many friends, all who would ask for her whenever they saw me.  I watched Little Lady dance, shimmy, and smile smile smile.  I danced Little Lady to sleep under the moon and stars on the deck of the Saloon to the quieted country music on the sound system before walking through camp back to our cabin.  I enjoyed quiet moments on the porch swing at sunset with Big Boy, and fishing with him too.  I watched proud and in glee as he took a bareback ride with a wrangler to the pond and was let off before she took her horse for a swim.  He was amazed and in awe at watching a horse learning to swim.  We all enjoyed watching a John Wayne Western movie under the stars after racing our bullfrogs.  I watched and smiled as Polly (wagon mule) nudged Larry over and over and nearly knocked him down each time at the cookout.  Hubby danced with me, we handled all the intricacies of extended family dynamics together.  He passed lope check and joined me on a more advanced ride.  As a family, we took over the pool and enjoyed each other thoroughly.

We met wonderful people from all over the place.  We fell in love with a Brittish family (Hallo Jess, Gurdun, Maddie, Sam and William!) and enjoyed the SoCal crowd of friendly fams that took over the place together as a group of 9 families!  It was a very busy week.

I want my horse friendly friends to come with us next time.  If you go,  Tell them Jess sent you!

The Washington Post's Mensa Invitational once again asked readers to 
take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting,  or
changing one letter, and supply a new definition. Here are this  year's
winners. Read them carefully. Each is an artificial word with  only one
letter altered to form a real word.

1.Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until  you
realize it was your money to start with.

2. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

3. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people, that stops 
bright ideas from penetrating.

The Bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down  in
the near future.

4. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the 
subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.

5. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

6. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the  person
who doesn't get it.

7. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

8. Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.

9. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

10. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these 
really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's 
like, a serious bummer.

11. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of gett ing through the day 
consuming only things that are good for you.

12. Glibido: All talk and no action.

13. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when 
they come at you rapidly.

14. Arachnoleptic Fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after 
you've accidentally walked through a spider web.

15. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into  your
bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

16. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in 
the fruit you're eating.

And, the pick of the lot...

17. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

"Vote republican: it's easier than thinking"
"Never underestimate the power of a large group of ignorant scared people"

I did it.

The kids have not watched TV since June. 

Why?

I got so frickin sick to the arguments.  At the end of every show Honey Girl would start in with her whining about what to watch next.  Then if designated tv time was over, there was a guaranteed whinefest from the both of them.  If the tv was on around dinner time, I had zombies that would spend time at the table, but would rarely eat their food.  I got sick of the wretched barrage of "I want"s from Honey Girl.  "OOOOooooo!  I want that because it's so pretty and so pink and I love it!"  *gag*  I was realizing that while Word Girl was truly a great kids show... it was still tv and Big Boy and I were getting more vocabulary from his Magic Treehouse books at bedtime.  It grossed me out when the bigger kids would ask Little Lady to move because she was blocking the tv. 

So I killed the television.  Cold Turkey.  Enough.  No, no tv.  Nope. Nada.  Zero. Zilch.

Granted, this could be why I have not communicated much with the outside world since June.  I've been with my kids!  As in playing games, doing projects, going on bike rides... talking, teaching them how to do chores... today we had a quiz show in the kitchen about "sometimes foods" and "healthy choices" since Honey Girl wants to live on only fruit lately.  We pilfered through the cupboards looking for examples of stuff, then cleaned up the mess.

Something I've heard referred to as "quality time"?

Hmmmm.

It helps that we're insanely busy with me working now and the kids having swim lessons this summer and that we don't get home until close to 5 or so.  We putter a bit, then it's dinner/bath/bed time.  Of course dinner/bath/bed is a near two hour process.... but anyway.

I wasn't going to write about the no tv rule in our house because I find folks who do that tend to do it to be smug or holier-than-thou.  I decided to do it to get peace back.  Basically to chill out Honey Girl, who just doesn't seem to be able to handle tv right now.  Big Boy doesn't mind because he's big on his legos, chapter books, cooking, and his baby sister.  The sibling arguments has gone down significantly.  Honey Girl has found *knock on wood* her inside voice, her ability to use her words, and basically how NOT to annoy the crap out of us much of the time.  The hissy fits are all but gone, the interrupting by yelling,  clumsiness of just not knowing where her body is. I used to put on the tv so they wouldn't argue, and now I find they argue less because they aren't fighting over what to watch.

For myself killing tv has been big too.  Really it was hard at first.  There were times when I was about to turn on the tv just to have a moment's peace from the kids, or to have something definitive to do.  But then I found if I just puttered with them, put on some music, or took a few deep breaths,  we'd have a good time.  I'll watch every now and then, usually when ironing to make the task more fun late at night. You know what I've found?  I sleep now.  I used to get all caught up in one show, then the next, and the next, and just like my daughter, I would be overtired and grouchy.  It's amazing what all else I have energy for now.

The kids are getting to be great dancers.... not that I'll ask them to exhibit their "SexyBack" skills anytime soon.

I overheard Honey Girl saying to a camp counselor at my son's camp today, "Um, well... you see.  I know this character.  I used to watch that tv show, but we don't watch tv anymore at my home at all.  Not at all."

Can you hear the teeniest violin playing??  yeah, me neither.

It may creep in again.  Who knows what the future will hold, but for now the big beautiful tv is for gaming and movies.  In other words, Hubby's game nights and the occasional in home date night, or Family Movie Night on a weekend afternoon.  The kids don't even ask anymore.  Well, of course Honey Girl asks from time to time, but those times are becoming fewer and farther between.  We put the tv on for her the other night while I was cutting Hubby's and BIg Boy's hair and when we turned it off... immediate hissy fit despite the clear negotiation at the outset that it would only be fore one show, enough time to cut Daddy's hair.  Lesson learned.

My daughter continues to be my greatest teacher.  She pushes us to new heights of awareness everyday.

Last November, I was beyond a full plate here at home.  I was honestly just overwhelmed in my own home.  Something had to give.  That something was giving Max (aka fatty booombalatty fatty Max -catty) and Cleo (aka Cleo-Leo Meeeooooweerrrr).  Max and Cleo were booted from our home to go live with my mom in San Francisco.

My mom willingly took them in despite the fact that she has a small apartment, immense strains on her time, and.. well... a propensity to step and/or trip on anything that isn't as tall as she is.  She loaded them and their accouterments into her CR-V and I breathed a sigh of relief of not 1)cleaning up cat hair 2) tripping on them in the night while putting babe down 3) not hearing them meoowwwr "just to say hello" 4) not climbing all over me the moment I had my body to myself.  It was blessing.  I found my legs again.

Sadly, my mom kind of lost one of hers.  She tripped on Cleo in the night just a week or so after taking the cats in, and broke her ankle, thus requiring surgery and an extended stay in our home .  She also fell madly in love with the cats and would often say we were never going to get them back.  I would cringe inside when she would say this.  The kids would then beg to get the cats back.

The grandkids started to cry and moan and miss the cats.  They didn't forget about them like folks would think kids would.  I started to miss the cats.  It had been 7 months.  It was time for them to come home.  I made the call and the kids (on speakerphone) told Grandma their wish.

Mom cried for a day.

The kitties came home on Saturday after a visit to Grandma's apartment in the city an my favorite meal form childhood:  Tater Tot casserole!  Nummy!

It is as if they never left.  Dog and cats picked up right where they left off with Max walking under the dog and between the dog's legs to trip the dog going down the stairs.  I woke last night to a teeny little Cleo curled up in the crook of my arm like always, and to the sound of one of them quietly calling to the other in the night in the house;  not full blown MEOWS, but their quiet chirpy "mmer---er???" s they do. The sound is like overblown purrs in a game of kitty cat  Marco-Polo.

Max interrupted my housecleaning routine this evening to voice a concern as to the placement of his food dish, and would I MIND giving him a lift to that unseemly high height?  I mean c'mon; at Grandma's house the food was at floor level and readily available every day at 6PM.  While here at home, the food is up away from curious toddler reach and it's Science Diet indoor "mature" cat formula?!?!?!?  WTF!?!?!?!?!?  To add insult to injury, it will now be BIg Boy's job to feed him?  Good God, what's an old cat to do?!?!

Big Boy is taking on a greater care provider role with them, and they seem to acknowledge his added maturity.  They are trying to give Honey Girl a chance again.  They allow Little lady to pet them, but then seem to study her with a look of, "Great, we get to train another one."  This evening at bedtime I got quite the chuckle watching Big Boy and Honey Girl attempting to "help" Max (at 17-18 pounds) over the baby gate at the top of the stairs.  Big Boy groaning under the weight and Honey Girl running to hoist up his back end while still trying to open the gate (as the fatty was refusing to jump spryly over the gate). I couldn't help because I was changing Little Lady into jammies.

Who needs tv?

Both cats put on some weight while at Grandma's.  Understandable.  smaller space, no one chasing them, no one hollering at them to get out of the way.  Not one begging them to play.  No one forgetting to feed/water them.  No diet food.  They had the koosh indoor cat life, fo' sho'.

Little Lady is the child in the house truly taken aback by this sudden addition (in her eyes).  She looks from one cat to the other in pure wonder and delight, following them around slowly and carefully, petting them oh-so-gently and quietly smiling back at us saying "ka?", then looking at Buck and saying, "Buh-duh!" (for Buck-dog).  This evening, she was petting one cat when the other came down the stairs and she seemed truly shocked... there are two of them?  They look just the same!

Thank you , Mom for taking such excellent care of the kitties.  I'm sorry it broke your heart to give them back.  They seem happy to be home.  I am thrilled to have them back. 

Three of the five of my immediate family have had pink eye since we returned from Disneyland last weekend. That, and I am a mom of younger kids.. so I wash my hands a lot.

A. LOT.

I wash before I leave the house, I wash when I drop a kid at nursery school or preschool.  I wash before I eat.  I wash when I go to the bathroom.  I wash If I handle a diaper situation.  I wash if I sneeze or blow my nose.

But since pink eye invaded our house.  I'm washing just when it crosses my mind to.  I'm ordering the kids to wash when I see them picking their noses, wiping their eyes, sneezing, coughing, eating....computer time.... I'm using actualy not-earth friendly disinfectant wipes because we had them and wiping eating areas, surfaces, and keyboards.  I've done the laundry.

Hubby came down with Pink Eye on Friday.

Honey Girl has a gross way of letting me knowing she isn't feeling well.  You'll love it.  When Honey Girls' throat hurts, I know this because... she sticks her fingers (as many as she can manage) into her mouth and slobbers all over them, then touches stuff..... or, she'll lick stuff.  Stuff.... like.... edges of counters, doorknobs.  It's like she's tring to touch the back of her throat where th hurt is, causes a mini-gag..slobbers like a teething babe and smears.  I know!  It is as if nature has her pegged to be the one to infect the tribe.  She seems to understand that this is a thoroughly undesirable behavior.... to say it politely... but it's her compulsion when she's feeling bad.  Weird, huh?  Not to mention somewhat aggravating.

Honey Girl came down with pink eye today.  The ped knew this would happen and told me to just get the refill of Little Lady's (our ground zero) meds.

Yeah, my hands are starting to look like a washer-woman's back before washers.

Let's hope at least such fastidiousness will payoff.  I don't like pink eye.  To put it lightly.  I had it a lot when I first started high school.  A couple times since I've ben married and my eyes always freak out so badly with the medication(I'm one of those "sensitive eye" folks who can't wear most make up), I end up going on another treatment prescribed by the doc after the anti-biotic to sooth my eyes back to normal.  soo......

C'mon Big Boy... it's you and me against the germs.... let's stand strong... let's keep clear of eye boogies and ick.

A CLOSED MIND IS A WONDERFUL THING TO LOSE.

These have caught my eye:

"If your gonna ride my ass, you may as well be pulling my hair"

"EMT: 911 makes me come"  ummmmm....ew

"Turn signals!  Not just for out of staters anymore."

"One nation, Under Bush, divided"

"Somewhere in Texas, a village is missing its idiot"

my fave I want as a t-shirt:

COEXIST

what is too long for a bumper sticker?  A generation to solve poverty but only 8 years to dissolve government and the middle class.

This is what comes from spending hours a day driving in concentric circles with complete morons. 

San Joseans.... learn to merge!!!!  Los Angeleans can do it... so.can.you.

Hang up and drive.  Please dont' text and drive.. thought I'm guilty of long signal texting.  I mean, c'mon I can feel myself getting older at these lights.

Ladies.. when someone puts on their turn signal, it is NOT a sign to gun your engine and pull into their blind spot just so they won't get in front of you.

Camrys, corrollas, priuses, Siennas... basically if you drive a toyota... please enter a freeway at the rate of traffic.  I swear to my grandpa the next time I am behind you getting onto 280 or 17 at rush hour and you are puttering along at 40... I just may honk at you, er, no.. that might WAKE YOU UP.  I will definitely salute you with my best out of sight of the kids.  Oh, and also... blind spots are not where you want to hang.

Any american made "muscle car" that is truly a serious piece  of crap (pontiacs, MUSTANGS, camaros, Neons, Magnums).  I get that the vibration your car may put off as you speed along may well give you some jollies you may not otherwise get... but... riding up my ass, then swerving around me and cutting me off is just... well.. juvenile and impudent.  Much as I imagine you must be.

American made minivans.  You make "us" minivan drivers look bad.  You are the reason why people assume I am a road boulder even if I'm booking at 70 in lane 2.

Blah blah blah SUVs.... blah blah blah... need I say more?

Contractor trucks.  Before 9am you gun it, run it, swerve it... but during the day you loiter, you lollygag... you. are. slowwwwww... but the second five o'clock rolls around, you're back to gunning it, running it, riding it.  hmmm.  What's that about?

SO to get through the *ugh* that is driving a lot... I look at bumper stickers and plate covers.

I really don't care whose purebread whatever is smarter than so and sos honor student.

I don't care that your W.T. or ghetto kid could beat up my honor student.

Bless you for supporting our troops, but blech!

I could give less than a crap if your kid is an honor student.

Who doesn't have a baby in their car these days?!?!

Yeah, who doesn't spoil their grandkids....or rather... who doesn't *think* they spoil their grandkids.

well... the stickers and plates do pass the time.

I got on facebook and my days are now riddled with gasps of who is getting in touch with me from my checkered past and where they are now.

I love it.

My, how we've all grown up.  Most who want to be friends have no idea I'm married or have kids.  It makes me laugh to think of what my life looks like on paper.  I'm no longer the opera girl, the stoner, the one that got away, the dorm-mate, the party hook-up.  Life is so great, isn't it?

give it a try.

I can't get enough of it.  Late last night I caught last week's episode of the most uncomfortable dinner party ever.  I was applauding the writing, howling at the awkward moments.

Very funny.  SO very funny.

Yes, it has been way too long since I wrote about my beloved hobby.

Why, night you say?

I just had to wait for the bruises to heal.

The "pole kisses".  These would be the nice words used to describe the bruising that occurs while in the learning process of new tricks, twists, twirls and flips.  Before you learn to do them with finesse, panache, or sultry sexiness... you go a little hard and fast or slow with your tongue hanging out and some grunting, ooofing, or full on laughing.

There were the bumps along the outsides of my ankles... from twirling down the pole and having a bit of drag on the wood floor before stopping, to ensure I was "facing" ( I use quotes, because it wasn't my face that was meant to be facing) the correct direction to move to the next "step".

At one point in the final class I got the tip of the heel of my stiletto caught in my undies before a crawl.  Classmates thought it was really cute and hot, I just dubbed it my own personal take on a modern coppertone add.

I am finding my great challenge in working the pole is the making-it-look-like-it-feels-oh-so-good part.  There were points when I'd be sliding down that thing thinking "what the hell, I swear I am stuck on here" as the skin of my thighs seemed to adhere to the steel.  In talking to friends and teachers about it after the fact... um, nope.. that's just how it goes.  Inner thighs nearly rolling in on themselves.  Thank goodness the music is thumping Prince's "Darling Nikki" so the sound of screeeeeeeeee! can't be heard.  Maybe the leg tricks while up there are simply a way of distracting from the pulling sensation.

For a bit there I had bruises on the insides of my ankles from the quick hooking of the pole when flipping upside down.  Yeah, as I learned that, it was feeling like I had to throw my head back, kick like hell and then grab hold for dear life.  But then I got it down and lost the *clang* of my shoes hitting the pole as I hoisted up and around and slid slooowwwwlllly down again.

I am merely such a beginner in all of this.  So I joke with myself "patience, grasshopper".  Rome wasn't built in a day, and when all is said and done... so little of the dancing has anything to do with the tricks and twirls.  I mean, c'mon.. when in use... all a lady really needs to do is stand there in stilettos and an "outfit" to get some seriously undivided attention from her partner.  But I soooo want to learn them alllllll.  I don't know why.  It's just fun as can be an hot as hell.

I really love the workout that is pole work.  Bruises and all.  Much like pilates with a trainer.. I leave feeling taller, longer and stronger... and it's not just the stilettos.  Also, the other students in the class make me laugh in all the right ways and with such support and fun.  My competitive nature stills resides in me as I notice I'm the only student who goes for the flip every time of the run through.

So now that the bruises have healed, and I get the urge to buy new shoes... it's time to sign in to the next class.  That, and the owner of the studio has been super sweet and has happily okayed Liz the use of the pilates studio much later than usual to accommodate my work schedule to keep me in tip top climbing condition.

huzzah!

Today at work I decided to change things up a bit.  Usually on my break I go and pump in the library.  I read an essay or two from my Brain, Child mag and snack as the pump does its job and then I go outside to warm my bones in the sunshine for a brisk walk before settling back behind the desk.

But today I felt like seeing my baby, so I tossed the pump into the Odyssey and drove to Katy's house. 

Little Lady, Teacher Katy and the other babes were in the back garden when I arrived.  They were goofing about on a big quilt in the partial shade of an oak tree playing with musical toys.  All in sun hats looking too cute. 

Little Lady looked up as I called to her and gasped, squealed, gafawed, and made her way onto the grass in a hell bend crawl.

Big hugs.
Lots of cuddles and kisses.
She likes to pat me on my back when she hugs me.
She likes to smoosh her face into my cheek really hard and hummmmmmmm to say hello.
Mom-babe conversation:  "Oh, I missed you!  Oh, it's so good to see you.Yes! That is Momma's necklace.  Are you having a good day?"

To all of that chatter, Little Lady hoots and hugs and ahhhhHHhhhhhs.  She also  points  around the yard at the flowers, trees, babes, and plants telling me, "Ah-da da da da eeeee ah daawa da da.... bir!" "awbu dawbu da da da, Momma!"

Then I ask her if she would want the "momma's milk" and I do the sign language for "milk".  She does a full body flop in my arms to assume the nursing position near yelling, "Muh-muh!" Her version of "more".  I laugh and kiss her head as I settle onto the quilt in the warm sun to nurse.

Katy and I have a nice chat about the day and what it is to care for three babies.. and how it's a whole other world than four babies.  I am amazed by this woman every day.  Her daughter was asleep in the wagon, she was playing with another baby while singing to my baby.  All babies happy and contented, trusting that if they need something, she'll take care of it. 

Little Lady finishes her repass and we talk some more.  She climbs on me, slobbers all over my jacket, gives me kisses and cuddles.  Burps a bit, but thankfully keeps it in.  I help her back to the house as it's time to go inside.  I get her settled into a new activity and let her know I need to go bye-bye again, but I'll be back in a little over an hour with Big Sister.  She looks at me in a very understanding way.. as only near 11 month olds will.  I give her kisses and wave bye bye.  She smiles and waves "buh-buh" back at me.

It was an awesome lunch date.

I just forgot to eat anything... ech well... I'm learning.