Thumper's big speech

Thumper is talking constantly. Most of his words require a trained ear. Here is a quick cheat sheet.

"mamabs" is for the city busses. These are the ones that Scully rides to work.

"skuuulbss" is a school bus. Like what we see when we are picking up Cousins from elementary school.

"catchdebs" (said with arms shooting out in a grabbing motion) is catch the bus. What mama says she is going to do as she runs out the door.

"Mukkah" is grandma. "Mupkkah" is grandpa. My folks are in Araby land (long story) y we have grandma's mini van. Every morning Thumper rushes to the window, sees her van y cries out "Mukkah! Mukkaaaaaaaaah!!"

Some phrases he really has down.
If I say, night-night time baby. He responds "noooo! Plaaaay!!"

If I ask, what song would you like? He says "idnknow" while shrugging his shoulders with a sly smile.

There's a lot more but I think this blog is set up best for post cards right now. . .

Okay

I know it is only 6:30 but the children barely made it this late into the day. Last night they were both up from 1-4 AM. That combined with daylight savings time = dinner at 4:30, bath at 5:15 y all of us struggling to make it as late as 6:30! And when we finally did, I called it good.

Hamdillah y god save us tomorrow morning!

Awesomeness

So Tia Lila is giving Majpaj a bath. He is talking about survivalist strategies if a sea serpent caught them. "know who I would call? I would call Aunt Scully and she would rescue me! Because, you know what mommy? She knows a lot of things. " I know she does, Tia Lila replies. "No mommy. I mean she knows ALOT of things--she could be a super hero!"

So Tia Lila laughs y agrees y dashes off to call me. And I dash off to post this. :)

You've Earned It

By the way, anyone still reading this after 2 posts in 2 years has earned a pic.

Rituals 2.0

I have so many blog posts bouncing around in my head but very little computer "face time." I have lots to say about Juan Williams and what is/NOT censorship. Plenty of thoughts on a local hater who is running for state house with his "get government out of people's lives (except for the queers)" Many Qs about "gender neutral" clothes for kids and why that only seems to mean "boy" clothes for the girl but no skirts and dresses for my boy???

All of these are platitudes and they bore me even writing them out in a mention.

But since this is my scrapbook of sorts I want to remember a few rituals. We have got quite a good rhythm going, the tribe y I.

Tuesday afternoons we wagon over to the bookmobile. Maj, Khubz and Thumper are all loaded in to a wagon. There's a little bucket that acts as a third seat. It is not far to the bookmobile but everyone wants the wagon so they can pour over their new books on the way home. On the short walk out there the kids are usually having afternoon snack--something not messy. We round the corner and the kids all shout out that they saw the bookmobile first.

Walking in is like walking in to a cathedral. The older kids become hushed. Thumper cries out "Elllmo!" like he has just seen jesus. We all climb in and begin the serious business of picking our special book.

The trip home is nearly silent. All three of the kids flip through their books. Cars slow down as they pass us just so they can smile at the train of budding bibliophiles. I am so proud of them. When we get back to our house the kids pile in and sprawl out. Sometimes they go to far corners for some space with their book. Sometimes they clamor around each other and begin peeking at each others' finds.

And we sit and we read for a loooong time.

Tuesdays rock.

what i have to deal with

There is a nest of robins about 10 feet from our back door.

Today we found, in a post-garage sale giveaway bin, a box full of kid kitchen toys: plastic cutlery, broccoli and cabbages etc.

I went on a 45 minute bike ride (yes I did!) today.

The children did not nap--either of them.

Scully thinks she is quite clever.

Here's how to put all those pieces together.

I wanted to go on a bike ride. The kids, having not napped, were bonkers. They needed to be outside. Scully can walk around but can't chase them for long periods of time. So the plan was that the kids would go outside in the back with Scully and do some sort of project to help centralize them.

We took all those kitchen toys and filled two washbins with soapy water. They got scrub brushes, towels and did the dishes in the yard. While I was on my (awesome) 45 minute bike ride they also dumped those washbins and made their own mudpile. Which they happily wallowed in until Scully brought them in for their bath.

Fast forward. The kids are now in bed and I ask Scully if the toys ever got picked up. No. Okay, so I'm heading out back to pick them up. Scully says, "look, one of the baby robins is sitting on the yellow washbin."

"Sorry baby robin," I reply, "I'm gonna make you move." I open the door, startle the baby bird who flies off (badly) and perches at Scully's vegetable garden. This must just be day 2 or 3 of flying school because the bird lost its balance on the chicken wire and fell into the garden. The chicken wire goes up about three feet and there was no way that bird was going to scale it.

Send the femme to rescue the bird!

So, armed with a kitchen towel, I go to pick up the bird and restore it to freedom.

CHHHHHHHIIIIRRRP!!!!!!

Baby bird calls for help. "Uh oh. Here comes mama" Scully chimes in laughing as a puffed up mama bird dive bombs my head.

"What?! Hey!" I throw the towel around. More angry grown birds appear. They are now lining the electrical wire above my house. They are swooping and trilling. I distinctly heard one say something like, "Don't you worry Horace! That bitch may get you but at least we'll peck her eyes out!!"

"Scully! You SUCK as a bat man!"

The bird is running away from my towel, still shrieking. We now have 147 adult robins swarming around our garden. I finally get a butterfly net and scoop up the reckless teenage robin.

Scully cannot stop laughing. She is crying, she's laughing so hard.

The baby bird spits at me, remarks that he and his friends will be watching for my car and flaps (badly!) away.

The mamas and mommies and papas and daddies and aunties and ex-lovers of the aunties and all the other bird relations ruffle their feathers, impressed with their own show of strength, and fly away.

"Unbelievable! What I have to deal with. . . " I complain to Scully. "You know when they tell that story they're going to make me out to be the asshole!"

"How many of them were there? Four?"

I give Scully my best glare. "There were at least eight or twelve!"

"Additionally," I tell her while smacking her ass to get back in the house, "I also had to deal with an asshole on the porch!"

"You so need to blog this."

"At last we agree."

Some day my revolution will come

We went to my niece's dance recital. She has been taking Irish dancing lessons all year and she got to put on a white dress with a pink ribbon, a curly-haired wig and some fantastic shoes. She got on the stage and hopped and kicked and danced her buns off.

Awesome. It was amazing.

Khubz was so excited about going to the recital. She put on her tights and leotard and a big fluffy skirt. She sat in her chair in the audience and waved her hands with each hand wave on the stage, rolled her head around, hopped up and down in her chair. At the end of the first song she told me "Mommy--I have to get on the stage so everyone can see my pretty skirt!"

It was all I could do to keep her in the seat.

"Look they're dressed like snow white!"
"Look they're bea-u-tiful!"
"Ooooh! Mom! Pooofy dresses!"

The whole time I am looking at her. She cannot take her eyes off these kids that are prancing on stage. Ballerinas come out--even boy ballerinas in skin tight body stockings. Then a stage full of four year olds in "belle" costumes from beauty and the beast.

Oh, we have *got* to get her in dance class. She is enthralled. She is entranced.
The stage fills up again with little snow white dancers. They begin twirling and prancing. And the music starts.

Some day my prince will come
Some day we'll meet again
And away to his castle we'll go
To be happy forever I know
Some day when spring is here
We'll find our love anew
And the birds will sing
And wedding bells will ring
Some day when my dreams come true

Ummmm. . . .
Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?

Okay, let's sign her up for gymnastics.