Planet Lew

I love those those rare moments when you get to sit down and really talk and share with just one child. The other night, somehow or another, it was just Me, Matt and Lewis. Della and Max were still out roaming the neighborhood, I think.

We sat, eating and chatting, and the conversation came around to what Lew was going to do with himself as an adult.

"I am going to name my children." he said.

"Well that's big of you, Lewis." Matt said.

"What are you going to name them?" I asked.

"Well, if it's a boy, I'm going to name him Groin." he threw it out...just like that.

It was all downhill from there, I can assure you.

Doesn't that make you want to come have dinner at our house?

Or if you have a daughter and would love to have a grandchild named Groin, please just give us a call in a few years and we can work on some sort of arrangement.

Kids are too good to be true. I will laugh about this one for YEARS to come.

huh...

We are driving home from school.

Max chimes out from the back seat...

"Mom. What's the difference between a lesbian and pedestrian?"

Well. Lots of thoughts came immediately to mind....most of them pretty humorous. But I wasn't really in the mood to go into great length. I actually don't even remember what I told him. I just remember the question.

Because WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT?

How does one even come up with a question like that?

But now that I've had some time to assimilate it, please let me answer it for you.

Max, my son, in some cases, there is no difference whatsoever. There are many lesbians who are pedestrians and many pedestrians who are lesbians. On the flip side of this unusual coin we will find the pedestrians who are NOT lesbians.

Are they different and what is the difference?

We would have to take that on a case by case basis.

And that, gentle reader, is where you come in.

If you are a non-lesbian pedestrian please feel free to comment at the end of this post and let Max know how you might feel 'different' or 'not different'. And in the interest of equality, if you are a lesbian pedestrian, how do you feel?

Inquiring minds want to know.

the authorities have been notified

On Sunday, Della was at the next door neighbors house playing with her favorite little girl friend.

She came home sooner than expected.

She walked in and sat on my bed, looking pensive.

"Was there a problem, sweetie?" I asked.

"They prayed to Jesus and sent me home."

So. I guess it's all taken care of then.

Maternal instincts?

As you know, I teach preschool.

I have a darling little group of kids.

But you just never know what's going to happen next.

This week we are talking about the letter B. When they think of a word that begins with B, I write it on the board. I asked them if they could think of a snack that begins with the letter B.

One of the girls shouted out, "Baby!"

Always the educator I said, "We can't really have a baby for snack."

"We can kill it and cook it and eat it." she said.

Alrighty, then.

hey hey

My dear friend is going through some tough times. I called her yesterday to say hello and offer what I have to offer....colorful curses aimed at her soon to be ex and playmates for her children. And look what she brought me! We finally had time to chat, just as she was going into the thrift store. I'll call you back in a sec, she said, they close in 5 minutes. One minute later the phone rang.

Size 40 dansko? she said

we're old friends.

Score! I said

And then she delivered these beauties to my doorstep.

$6.00.

Yep.

Thank you Suzanne!

And Listen Up Friend! I know this is yucky and hard, but you are tough and wonderful and very soon you will find yourself with an exciting new path before you and you will fling yourself down it to wild adventure and greener pastures.

Mark my words.

why not?

Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat....absolutely overwhelmed by the the wealth of knowledge that I must pass on to three eager and receptive little souls. If I stop and really think about it, it freaks me out.

There is always basic daily maintenance to attend to... the feeding, clothing, watering, and sheltering. Making sure they have all the proper gear is a full time job in and of itself. Then of course, there is their EDUCATION. That is a huge category and I'm always worrying that they aren't getting enough, except for the times when I have worried that maybe they are getting too much.

They need to know some language other than their own and whine-ese. Should it be french, spanish, german? What about latin? It forms the foundation of all the romance languages, they should probably know that, too.

They need to play an instrument. Which one? Or two? I want them to also know how to sing well, to harmonize, to know all the great broadway show tunes, to be able to dance to those show tunes. To know and appreciate classical music, opera, hymns and James Taylor.

And then there is literature and poetry and fine art. That's a lifetime of learning, alone!

Classic movies and plays.

What about sports? They need to know the basics of the biggies...soccer, basketball, football and baseball. Then there's lacrosse and tennis and golf and jai alai. Let's also throw in mountain biking, skiing...water and snow, track, skate boarding, ultimate frisbee, swimming, and juggling.

This is just the tip of the iceberg. And, of course, it comes together gradually over time with the help of many. But I still sometimes feel the responsibility of it all sitting on me like an elephant.

So right now, today, Max is working on a very important piece of his musical education and we are sharing it with you.

Because it's very important that we all know the classic hits of the eighties.

Rock On.

P.S. We are both having a hard time with Steve's pants? Were we all OK with that look, I can't remember?!

conversation

Parenting is mixed bag of some wild stuff. I don't know what I like best, I like it all, but it's conversations like this one that just pull it all together for me. And probably no one else will find this as hysterically funny as I did. ( Probably not even remotely funny, actually...) But here it is, none the less.

I must preface this by saying that Seekan WAS my mom and dad's dog. She's dead now and has been for a few months and Lew hasn't laid eyes on this dog in over seven months as she lived in Georgia and we are in Colorado. But keep in mind, ....she's DEAD.

We are driving into town for a soccer game on Saturday and Lew is in the backseat sniffing his fingers, apparently.

Lewis: "Mom, my fingers smell like Seekan"

Me: "What?"

Lewis (holding up his fingers) : "These two fingers smell like Seekan"

Me: "That's gross, Lew."

Lewis: "But they do."

Me: "Well, what does Seekan smell like?"

Lewis: "LIKE THESE TWO FINGERS!"

I nearly wrecked the car I was laughing so hard. And boy do kids love it when they get a good laugh out of mom or dad, so I probably have not heard the end of this.

Rest in peace, Seekan.

head cold

i have a head cold. a bad one. i'm numb from my neck up, and i'm actually getting used to it. i can't taste food at all but can taste this bizarre chemical scent in the top of my mouth, i can barely hear, and if i lean forward too far shooting spears of pain ricochet around my head. there is a deep hack and more mucus than i like to think about. other than that i'm fine. my sister had something similar and said it lasted 3 weeks. so i've got that going for me, too. but really, i'm fine. and that's the clincher, i think. because i'm a mom, there is really no choice, but to be fine. it has nothing to do with martyrdom, as some are probably grumbling under their breath, and everything to do with just plain old physics. newton's first law. a family is an 'object in motion' and an object in motion tends to stay in motion. that's us. we're moving. we never stop. sometimes we might be moving backwards or even upside down, but i'll be damned if we're not ALWAYS moving. and mucus doesn't arrest that motion.

so, the other night, between chorus and my tuesday night job, after a playdate, but before my anniversary date with that man who created this situation with me, i took the kids to grab a quick bite at a taqueria near our house. we all stood in line. i was holding della, because she hadn't napped and was cranky and max and lew were bickering softly amoungst themselves. (i think it was softly, i can't hear ...)it was nothing special or unusual. as we finished up in line, an older woman approached me. she wanted to tell me how charming my children were. thank you i said. it's one of the few compliments that i can take without a qualifier... what? these things? i got them for 75 cents at the thrift store.... they ARE charming and i am so proud of them. always. actually, people often compliment them and for that i am grateful.

but what she said next really tickled me. and i tried not to laugh in her sweet, elderly face.

 she said, " your children are darling and you just seem so unflappable". that was her word. unflappable. she also said that 'i had such a peaceful demeanor'. and right then would have been the proper time to just say thank you, as i was taught.

but no. i guffawed.

i told her that the more appropriate word would be 'zombie'. as in, the walking dead. that i could neither hear nor feel my offspring and that i also wouldn't be tasting my dinner, except that i had ordered a habanero sauce on my burrito in the hope of having some sort of meaningful relationship that day. i went on. i was there in body, not in mind or spirit, and thank god my children were as worn out as i was because there's no telling what i would have done had they been climbing the walls, which they are fully capable of doing.

we all sat down and ate. and i looked at my 3 children lined up on stools across from me and a funny thing happened. while i had a hard time accepting that compliment up front, it sort of washed over me like a wave of warm saline. (a comforting metaphor for me right now) she made me take a mini snapshot of my life with kids right there in that restaurant. with me feeling like hell.

and like she said....it's charming.

hey wait lady! thank you!