Problem Solver

Jane looked at me, strawberry ice-cream ear to ear and neck to nose and said, “Mom, will you lick my nose off?”

Unperturbed with getting “no” for answer she took her sweaty little hand, smeared it all up and down her face, over her nose, held it out and said, “Well, then will you lick my hand?”

Then, still un-bothered by my refusal to lick anything, promptly wiped off her sticky hands on her car seat, gave me the half eaten, and now unwanted, ice cream cone and ran off to play.Jane at the top of the slide

 

So you see, it’s really not so bad that I forgot the napkins.

I was just helping Jane exercise her problem solving skills.

Lawnmower Fix

Today I fixed my lawnmower with two tiny pony tail holders.

This either makes me brilliant (for obvious reasons) or completely ridiculous (because the workshop is full of tools and supplies that likely contain the appropriate items for a normal fix) depending on your point of view.lawnmower fix

I’m going with brilliant.

 

When Mom Goes Down…

We’ve all been there, the family ship is cruising along, life is good – and then the mom goes down. What had been smooth sailing is suddenly rudderless chaos.

And when that mom also answers to the titles of daughter and grandma the ship doesn’t just flounder, it crashes in fantastic Titanic form. It sinks in a way that ripples across the generations and pulls in an army of helpers to do what one woman’s right arm used to accomplish all on it’s own.

But my mom and her army are getting things done.

Nobody is exempt from the draft in this army!

Nobody is exempt from the draft in this army!

“Who says a one-armed grandma and a five year old can’t pick rocks?”Clara and Mom pick rocks

Ummm… Sorry mom.

Nobody says that.

Nobody would have even thought to challenge a lady who had recently broken her humerus so high up as to be considered part of her shoulder, to a rock picking contest, with or without a five year old.

But if they had, you guys totally would have won.

The rocks have been picked, the baby chicks have arrived and the garden is planted…but the sheep are coming.

So, if my posts are a bit spotty, please forgive me, I’m part of the army that’s saving the Titanic.

 

Sending RawrLove

Just over a year ago, our favorite internet dinosaur Rarasaur wrote “ Sometimes the benefit of fighting for truth isn’t worth the cost of winning,” and shortly after surrendered herself to police custody. And there she has remained.

The last letter I received from her told of her excitement to be counting her remaining days in prison in double digits and of the first hug she shared with her husband in over a year.  It was a letter full of hope and the daring thoughts of future plans.

Just days later, I heard that her husband had passed away.

A year ago, facing an unknown prison sentence, she left the her internet friends with these words:

“I know some of you have aching hearts right now, as I would if I read something like this about you.  I wish I could be here to comfort you, but I won’t be– so instead, let’s go over some Rarasaur lessons together, alright?

Take the deepest breath you can.  Then take one more.

Now let it go.

See? You are capable of so much more than you expect.  And so am I.  Let your worries about me fade away.

Wiggle your hands around.

Be dazzled by the miracle that is your perfect body!

Press your hands to your heart.  Do you feel the heat and rhythm?*

It is as constant and warm as my gratitude for you.

You are loved, and you have changed my life for the better.

Now that you’re unbeatable, try to remember what I asked of you oh-so-long-ago. I want you to laugh.  So laugh, joyfully and with strength.  I can hear it, and it brings a smile to my face.”

Now I would like to turn around and say those words back to her.

If you’d like to send her a note, a bit of RawrLove from afar, you can send it here:

 

Radhika Jaini WF0124
CIW LA 249 UP
16756 Chino-Corona Road
Corona, CA  92880

#RawrLove

That’s a genuine Rarasaur “Rawr” surrounded by all the love we could wring out of our art supplies. I’ll send a picture of it along with my next letter to her.

 

Egg Hunt – Clara Style

Take off at a run toward the highest egg you can see.Clara

Stop at the bottom of the tree. Carefully hang your (optimistically sized) bag on a convenient branch.Clara

Climb tree.Clara

Grab Egg.Clara

Climb back down as you place your new egg in your giant bag.Clara

Repeat. Clara

Come to the sad realization that while you’ve got the best climbing style around, you’re never going to fill that bag.

Monday Night Ski Lessons

For six weeks in mid-winter, Monday night is cross country skiing night.

Ivy and Clara both take lessons, (with Peak Nordic Kids of course!) while I follow along with Clara’s group as a volunteer. Today was the last of this year’s sessions and looking back on the last few weeks I don’t feel that telling people it’s cross country skiing night really sums up the event.

You see, it starts at 1:30…

I figure 1:30 is the latest I can start gathering everyone’s skis, boots, and snow apparel, while double checking that we have extra socks, hats and gloves, without forgetting to collect a pair of p.j.s and a blanket for each girl’s ride home, all while on the phone consulting with my mom for a dinner plan. Because by 2:45 we have to be headed out the door to pick Ivy up from school. If we don’t make it there by 3:05 she’ll get on the bus and then we’d never make it to my parents’ by 4:00, so that we can enjoy the previously planned dinner with them by 5:00 so that at 5:30 everyone can put on their ski stuff. We have to have ski stuff on by 5:30 so that I’ll have time to switch Jane’s car seat to my Dad’s truck, say goodbye to the two of them and be out the driveway by 5:45. That way we can be at the ski place by 6:00 so that the kids can finish getting their ski duds on, while visiting with my mom (who is one of the coaches) and we can all be out to meet our respective groups on the trail head by 6:30.

While skiing is done at 7:15 it seems a bit insane to just go home so we take another half hour (or until someone’s toes are frozen) to play around on the trails with my mom before we go back into the warming house. Once back inside, we need to change into p.j.s (an activity that manages to spew two giant bags worth of gear all over the place) then pack everything back into bags and load all the skis, so we can be ready to go when my Dad gets there at 8:00 with Jane. But of course we never actually manage to leave at 8:00 because there are snacks, and adults to talk to and I’m never excited about getting back in the truck. So it’s always more like 8:30 that we get going, which means that it’s already past bedtime. Once we get half way home we have a “one last thing” request and then it’s officially bedtime in the truck.IMG_0541

Which means when I get home at 9:30, I have three sleeping kids, two giant bags, three sets of skis and poles, at least two pair of boots that have been kicked off, Ivy’s school bag, and random other debris scattered about the truck that needs to be transported inside.  Usually by 10:00 it’s all sorted. Everything is inside, the chores have been done and the wet ski clothes are hanging up around the rekindled fire in the woodstove.

Then I eat everything in the house, collapse on the couch and wonder how a 45 minute lesson can take eight and a half hours.

But worth it?

For sure!

Mardi Gras!

Thanks to a super fun package from John’s aunt in Louisiana we had our own little Mardi Gras celebration tonight!

Laissez les bon temps rouler!

Mardi Gras mask and beads

Thanks again Aunt Kathy!

 

 

Kids, Keeping Me Humble Since 2007

Jane fell asleep the way only small children who shouldn’t take a nap can fall asleep, suddenly and completely – just as we pulled into the grocery store parking lot.  No problem, I thought, I’ll just pick her up, carry her in and she’ll wake up.

By the time I checked out my three bags of groceries, my left bicep was cramping from the strain of hauling a sleeping three-year old through the store in one arm while pushing a cart and shopping with the other. But I was pretty convinced I was Super (strong) Mom. After all, I just grocery shopped with my thirty plus pound kid in one arm. And while it’s true that I was rapidly passing from uncomfortable, squarely into the realm of what one would call pain- I did it.

It was extra justification for all that working out, all those push-ups and lunges. All that time that I take for myself. Time away from the kids.

Time spent on myself that, no matter how much I know is the right thing to do, still brings on a bit of guilt. But look at me now!  Not only does working out keep me a sane, happy person but look how much better of a mom I can be with my muscles! My girl can get an, apparently, much needed nap while I shop and it doesn’t even phase me to squat down and get something off the bottom shelf- repeatedly. While it’s true I cheated the express line people and sailed on through with my load of kid and over ten items.  I carried them all out to the parking lot by myself. Me and my rapidly failing left bicep were awesome!

And with that smug thought I gently set Jane back in her car seat as she woke up saying, “Where are we?” ” Are we goin’ to the grocery store?” “I didn’t fall asleep!” “Why are we going home?” “I want to go to the grocery store!

It was long before she saw the toilet paper sitting next to her and exclaimed in surprise, “We do have toilet paper now!” finally accepting our trip to the store had indeed occurred, that my smugness evaporated.

It was disappointing to be brought back down to the level of ordinary human, but despite my fall I’ll keep working out.

I’ll keep working out because I love it and because it makes me a happier, healthier person. And all that makes me a better mom. But after that ride home I shall forever leave my grocery store prowess out of the equation!

 

 

The Day of the Possesed Shower

It all started with the possessed shower.

You see, I was enjoying my morning by taking a nice warm shower when I noticed that the shower drain wasn’t draining.  “Uh-oh,” I thought. Then it started draining, “Phew.” Then it stopped draining, and started, and stopped and, “Oh my God my shower is possessed!” No one stays in a possessed shower so, of course, I jumped out. Only to find that the demon in the pipes was also controlling the toilet which, while nearly empty of water, was still pulsing with a bubbly gurgle. And that is right about when I heard the kind of noise nightmares are made of. The sound of a geyser in the house.

Soaking wet, in nothing but my towel, I flew downstairs to discover that while the jury was still out on a poltergeist in the pipes, I did indeed have a geyser in the basement. A giant pulsing geyser that erupted an inch below the ceiling, helping it to spray the water in a ten foot diameter circle – every twenty seconds. Luckily for me I didn’t get any wetter when I dove into it to start shutting off all the water valves I could find. Sadly, when the water main didn’t stop the erupting, I was forced to the unhappy conclusion that the geyser originated in the septic pipe.

I swear I did not take this picture for a future blog post. I took it to send to John to try to clear up our muddled conversation. The blog post is just a happy coincidence.

I swear I did not take this picture for a future blog post. I took it to send to John to try to clear up our muddled conversation. The blog post is just a happy coincidence.

 

Meanwhile, while I’m running around in the cold basement being sprayed by water I’d rather not think about in nothing but a towel talking to John on the phone trying to figure out how to make the geyser stop, Ivy is building legos. And then she’s bringing them down the stairs and interrupting my panicky phone calls to show me that she built a building with a roof for all the animals to live on.

I was not suitably impressed.

Perhaps it was because I was so cold my knees were knocking together and I still had geyser issues.  But the fantastically roofed house was brushed aside and as I was unable to turn anything else off, I ran for clothes and called my Dad. Because that’s what girls do when their husband is out of town and they have a geyser.

Dad and I had a pleasant conversation where I ineffectively described things and he told me to do (and I tried to do) unpleasant tasks that involved both standing under the spray of water and sticking my hands into the water sump crock trying really hard not to think much about the source of the water. Unfortunately, all that got me was ickier, wetter and brought us to the realization that I really needed a plumber.

So, I took my soggy self out the door, hat-less and jacket-less (because I’m a moron) through the snow to the neighbors’ barn, where I found my fantastic neighbor happily enjoying the peaceful morning while making a phone call. Or he was until his crazy neighbor flew down looking for a number for a plumber and a could-you-please-come-look-and-help-me-figure-out-what’s-happening-so-I-don’t-sound-like-a-moron-when-I-talk-to-him-plea. Which he did, because he is fantastic. By the time we had traced lines together and talked things through, both my panic and the spray was lessening but I was turning blue. Happily, that same fantastic neighbor also has a fantastic shower.

I left a message with the plumber (who doesn’t work weekends and was watching the Packer game anyway) and ran back outside through the snow, hat-less, jacket-less with a soggy towel (because I was still a moron) and a lot of soap to the hot shower. After using a significant amount of soap and putting on all clean clothes I felt better… but colder because even fantastic showers can make you cold when you’re in an apple barn.

Then it got worse.  I still had to run back through the snow to the house, (still hat-less, still jacket-less because of the moron thing), where I found that in all the excitement of the morning the fire had died and the house was only about 63 degrees. A temperature that is in no way warm enough when you are soggy and frozen to the bone. But, duty called, I took my goosebumps down to the basement to check and was happy to see that the geyser had wore itself out. Back upstairs I, finally, put on a hat, built a fire and Ivy who had been happily building through the whole escapade brought me more Legos to see.

And then we made the best plan of the day; a late lunch at Culvers and an afternoon of Lego building. By the end of the day we still didn’t have running water and couldn’t flush a toilet but we did have a zoo, complete with dolphin tank and wizard couple.

lego wizard couple visits dolphin

And that’s something.

Update: The following morning on the advice of the plumber (who really was nice, even if he does abandoned his phone during Packer games). I sat on John’s feet while he dove headfirst into the septic tank with a stick to unclog our main pipe. We had flushing toilets by 9:30 the next morning!