Wednesday, August 31, 2005

I've changed my mind.

Woe is not me. My knee is screwed up, but I have a house and clean water and food and my family.

Katrina sashayed
beyond the sea
blind to the destruction
her swirling skirts
erased the dreams
left behind an empty
flooded with tears

Saturday, August 27, 2005

Woe is me.

I blew out my knee at the waterslides. Some kind of ligament thang caused by weird landing to avoid taking out a cute little girl who forgot to get out of the splashdown pool. There was a big POP. It hurts and is really gonna mess with my plans. I have a list of things to do when the goob gets back in school, and all of them require having a working body. As it is, I am to rest, ice, wrap and elevate for a few days and go back to the doc. Grrr. The waterslides were a blast up to that point, though. And at least it was my left knee, so I could still drive home. First time I've been glad to have an automatic transmission. Oh, and I also stepped on a bee right after hurting my knee.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

heard in the hallway

The goob was cleaning his room (which actually means playing quietly in there until somebody notices there's no cleaning going on). Hubby peeked his head around the doorway to see how it was going. The goob was playing with little Lego guys who were having the following conversation.

Voice one: "Come on! Let's get into your Batmobile!"
Voice two: "But I don't have one."
Voice one: "What? Well, what kind of vehicle do you have?"

Monday, August 22, 2005

Best with lime.

Best with lime.
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.
Camping this weekend rocked.

And no, I don't drink Coke.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

forgetfulness + pancakes + microwave=

It wasn't me. It wasn't the little one. I half-expected to find the oil drain plug in there, too.

Monday, August 15, 2005

the best laid plans of mice and men...

So, I decided today's the day. I will take the boy shopping. For the first time in his life, he did not moan about being dragged shopping. He was actually excited. "Can we go right now, Mom? Let's go!" This from a child who hates shopping. Usually when I tell him we have some shopping to do he picks up the phone and calls Grandma and asks if he can go to her house while I shop. I was tres stoked. "Well, honey, I need some lunch and we have to wait for Dad to finish changing the oil in the car, then we can go." So we go out to see how Dad's doing on the oil change.

The goob tells Dad what we're planning to do. Dad laughs and they both start singing the lines from the Supersuckers song, "Your Mom Rules" about "summer's over, you need some school clothes, she's taking you to the mall..."

They start rocking so hard they decide they need to hear the song, so they come inside to get the mp3 player. They rock the song, singing along, serenading me, then decide it's time to get back to work.

And then... and then...
... hubby realizes he musta set the oil drain plug down somewhere. It's not in his pockets. It's not under the car. It's not on top of the car or sitting on the tire or anywhere to be found inside or outside the home or on the path between the car and house.

Thus, there is no way to keep the oil in the engine of the car, and we will not be shopping for school clothes. Unfortunately, we will also not be shopping for food, going to the bank, or many other things that were on the errand list.

It all happened because they were serenading me with "Your Mom Rules" and they actually believe that, and well, how cool is that?

P.S. Edited to add: It never showed up, despite much searching. I finally had to call my mom and ask her to take us to the car dealership to get a new one. The dealership is in a town about 30 miles away. We did a little shopping while we were there.

Sunday, August 14, 2005

School clothes?

School clothes? I'm supposed to go buy him school clothes? How did I forget this ritual that brought me such agony as a child? I didn't even think about it until my neighbor asked if we'd gone school shopping yet. Umm, no, not quite yet. I kinda forgot you're supposed to do that. I don't have a lot of experience as a mother of a school aged child, and I'm still refusing to believe that summer's almost over.

I don't want it to end. I want to frolick more. I want to stay up late and play. I want to sleep late and eat ice cream and splash in the pool. Please, don't let it end. Don't make my son and hubby go back to the classroom and leave me in charge of making lunches and providing adequate numbers of clean socks.

Does my little boy really need to spend six hours each day at school? Does it really take that long to learn what he needs to learn? Or are minutes stolen dealing with things like classroom management and discipline issues? I wish I had it in me to homeschool. A few hours of noses to the grindstone and a few hours of exploring and experimenting.

Alas, I am undisciplined and I don't know how to do it. He learned to read in kindergarten, and I am sure I would've had no clue how to teach him that. I would waste time and allow him to waste time and then I would panic and we'd butt heads and I'd be remorseful and painfully aware of my shortcomings.

So, I guess, compared to that, shopping for school clothes will be pretty painless.


Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Ese cosquillas mis barbas.

New favorite phrases, courtesy of the Otter Pops website:

I am a saltwater otter. Soy una nutria de la agua salada.
I am a freshwater otter. Soy una nutria de agua dulce.
Which way to the water? ¿Dónde está el agua?
Is the water cold today? ¿Es el agua fría hoy?
Those rocks are slippery. Esas rocas son deslizadizas.
Your musk smells lovely. Su almizcle huele encantador.
How old is your pup? ¿Cómo vieja es su nutria infantil?
That tickles my whiskers. Ese cosquillas mis barbas.
This kelp is delicious. Este quelpo es delicioso.

I want to make sure...

...that you love Mark Morford as much as I do.
If you don't know him, please go away now. Go right here and read at least five archived columns before you come back. Class dismissed.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Paint job

Paint job
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.
We painted my husband's missile, adorned it with a message of peace, and used it to draw attention to the lemonade, grape and cookie sale being held by the Junior Neighborhood Philanthropic Society.


I will sleep well tonight. This afternoon we had the first event of the newly formed Junior Neighborhood Philanthropic Society. The goob and his friends sold lemonade, homegrown grapes and cookies. They invited their customers to write down organizations they'd like the kids to learn more about. Soon we will help the kids research the agencies and decide where to donate the money. A local social activist came by and hung hard. He read to us from a book of haikus about cats and enlightened us on some local political issues. Many people stopped for lemonade. The Junior Neighborhood Philanthropic Society raised over forty bucks!

After we closed down shop, we decided it would be a shame to throw out leftover fresh lemonade, so we ordered pizza, herded the kids into the backyard, and drank tequila and lemonade margaritas. Forgive my typing. I've tried to correct most of the errors. Now I must nap.


The missile is 8 1/2 feet tall, not seven.
The boys spray-painted it yesterday. They very carefully chose the colors by rummaging through the shed and using whatever they found that wasn't empty.

Friday, August 05, 2005

Who can resist a free missile?

Who can resist a free missile?
My hubby was in the shower, when my son and I heard him yell, "Oh, the rocket! I forgot about the rocket!" We raced in to see what the heck he was talking about.

It turns out he had seen a 7 ft tall missile sitting on a street corner with a "free missile" sign on it while out rollerblading earlier and just remembered it while stepping into the shower. Don't we all do our best at remembering things in the shower?

So he turned off the water, pulled on his pants, loaded his family into the truck, and went to retrieve the free missile. He didn't even put on shoes.

It was quite fun driving the truck while my husband sat in back holding his missile.

In the hour we've had it, I've had a lot of fun. We needed help unloading it, so I went to get the neighbor. "My husband would like to show you his missile."

A little later, my best friend called and asked what I was doing. "Oh, just admiring my husband's seven-foot missile."

You get the idea. I mean, really, who would pass up a free missile?

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

File under "Ewwww, that's so gross"

From the local paper:
Avila Beach will be closed at least through this afternoon because of a raw sewage spill from San Luis Obispo's treatment plant early Tuesday.

San Luis Obispo City Utilities Director John Moss said a computer glitch prevented some pumps from operating properly, causing 30,000 to 40,000 gallons of waste to back up and overflow during the early hours of the morning.

The sewage -- enough to fill a motel pool -- flowed eight miles from the treatment facility near Los Osos Valley Road to the beach...

I can't wait to read the article to the goob, though. He always gets crabby that I won't let him play at the end of the beach "with the little river". I always reply with something like, "Honey, that there's a river of doom, filled with poop and disgusting grossness." Now I have proof.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

orange jelly

orange jelly
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.
Have I mentioned that I could watch jellyfish for hours?

Just returned from a fun trip to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. So much to see. It's always hard to pull me away from the jellies, though.