How this happened? Anybody? Drop me a line, because I turned away for a second, and there it was.
You are the one I can write the most about and you are the one that leaves me with my pen poised in the air over my paper, unable to find the words that fit. You did this to me when you were just ten days old, when you reached for my face with your little hand, when you heard my voice. You left me astounded, speechless, then, and you still do now.
When you were almost 2 years old, you brought me a picture of a tiger you had drawn, complete with black stripes and green eyes, swishy tail with the hair tuft detailed at the end. I didn't even know you could hold a crayon yet. Your drawings still leave me shaking my head, in disbelief.
When you were almost 2 years old, you spelled your name out with the wooden alphabet train letters we had. Not a single letter was missed. I have the picture. I knew no one would believe me. People still don't.
When you were almost 2 years old, you scared my oldest sister by naming all the planets in the solar system, while you climbed on the swings at the park. She asked me that afternoon in the summer, "aren't you scared he can do all that?" She still doesn't get you, and I catch her watching you with curiousity.
You've never scared me.
You've always amazed me. A-mazed.
You are the least like the me I am now, and the most like the me I would have been, if people had let me.
Your needs are clear, direct, and never require guessing.
Your feelings are public, where mine have been tamed into society accepting quiet.
You know what you need. The way you have been able to organize all your passions, kept in order in your room, the need to rush upstairs for quiet after you return from a fully scheduled day, your dislike for being hurried. I see you, and I remember all these same feelings.
I understand it all. I did when you were small, and I still do now.
You are direct with your communication, there is no gray.
Which is why this picture, this picture, is one I can't tear my gaze away from today.
What is it that you really think? What do you see? Does something make you wonder?
For your birthday today, I've tried to complete the list you carefully and deliberately detailed for me, about the things you want.
Do you think you could, today, as a small token of affection for me, provide me with the same careful, deliberate details, about you?
*******************************
Happy, wonderful, birthday, to my sweet, sweet poet Maximus.
I love you.
I hope you have an amazing birthday day, and receive everything you wished for.
Love, forever, mama
*I decided to call this post "Still Fits," since a poem I wrote for Maximus, when he was 4 yrs old, still fits him to this day.
I always knew I loved you. I never had to live the "don't know what ya got till it's gone" with you.
I knew what I had.
Coffee, my coffee, the perfect drink. Black gold. Brings you up, yet calms you down.
Revs you up, powers up the brain. All the cylinders firing.
Like a good Colombian family, our day began with you percolating in the pot, coffee. I received my own first percolator at age three, which my Spanish grandmother would fill with coffee and my brother and I would sit and sip in the warm, sweet soul smoothness of our coffee. We were masters of slowly stirring in the cream till it was the perfect caramel brown.
We just knew how much cream to add, it's part of the DNA we came with.
I was not new to the power of caffeine, oh, no, not then, not now, not ever.
I understood all the coffee jokes, I got it--- I'd even poke fun at my own twitching eyes.
I also confess that it was me that began my husband down this same, indulgent path. Poor soul, he never stood a chance.One morning, after a particularly focusing round of the bean, I almost had him convinced he could run for president, and win. After one more cup, emitting a Howard Dean primal scream, he was submitting papers.
Coffee. You can have intelligent conversation when you hold a mug in your hand, you are confident with a mug in your hand, you are clever and witty, sharp, focused, and the ideas are firing off in your head like a little boy with a cap gun.You'd be left with such a good feeling, that at times I could scarcely believe that something this good out of Colombia was legal.
My days are built around coffee. Get up, get going, have that cup, be in a good mood, get it all done, do the exercising, the smiling, and wow.. the ideas for the posts... bing bing bing. 50,00 lined up and ready in draft and celebrate me! Woo hoo! Ima get the stuff done today.
I'd finish one cup and start another. People would mention they were cutting down to two a day, and I'd quip, "yeah, me, too... TWO POTS!" Hilarious, coffee made me hilarious.
On the days of that perfect, centering caffeine buzz, where the balance of coffee ingested was just right that you loved everybody and everything and Life is sooooo SO good, you'd look in the mirror and loved that, too, with that youthful, adrenaline cherry flush in your cheeks and only the two second attention span courtesy of coffee to not stare much longer.
To those of you who know just what I'm talking about, your mouth is already wetting and salivating as you read this post. You have the thought of a good, hot, fresh cup of coffee to hold in your permanently coffee clawed hand, fingers molded by the mug's handle, don't you? You know you can smell it if you close your eyes. Ahhh... nothing. like. it.
But, 'tis a dark day for me here in my small town.
Even my children understand what is happening today. Middlest said today in the car returning from the Doctor, "Mom, I feel so sorry for you. I can't believe you can't have coffee." Smallest added his points of concern, "You were so much fun, Mom, you'd drink your coffee and then chase us, Mom." Oldest understands, "Mom, you love coffee. what are you going to do? "
Yes, yes, oh, yes, I do love my coffee.
But, last week, you remember the night, don't you, Coffee? Where I found myself sitting up in bed all night, unable to sleep, panicking at the symptoms of the worst reflux I have ever had.
Sensations so bad, I almost took myself in to the ER at 3 a.m.
Promising God anything in exchange for surviving the night.
I endured the night and was able to wait it out until morning. I drove to our family health center and sat outside in the parking lot, awaiting the last few minutes out in agony until they opened for the day. The staff there allowed me to see our family physician before his other scheduled appointments. At the sight of him, along with being so grateful to finally be receiving medical attention, and with the fresh memories of the longest night of my life just hours behind me, my lips were loosed. I let go the floodgates of truth and disclosed the details of my until then secret two pot consuming lifestyle. He, in his $700 cashmere blazer, decreed the unholiest of the unholies, the diagnosis and prescribed medication along with firm orders of "no more coffee."
No more coffee for your overcaffeinated body. Swallow these three pills twice a day and stay away fromyourcoffee.
Like that. Like.that.
And that's how it went down, coffee.
I love you, I miss you, I gaze at you from a safe distance, where you can't hurt me. I think of all who get to cradle you now, both hands encircling their favorite mug this morning, feeling the warmth of you and the satisfying almost burning hurts so good sensation of you sliding down their throat.
I think of them, because it can no longer be me.
I watch them, as they gently blow across your smooth surface before they take that slow, measured sip, then I see them close their eyes and softly inhale the steam rising from their cups.
Oh, the magic of that steam, the steam that opens up more than your sinuses; the steam that gives way to confidences exchanged through lowered voices. I know these moments so very well.
I miss you.
I still keep you around, just a small amount, in a rolled up shiny off-white bag, hidden behind the vitamins, so that I can for a minute, open you and inhale you and linger on your seductions. But I have thrown the coffee pot away.
Had to. So powerful is your siren's call to me, so weak is my resistance.
Too many weak moments potential.
Too many "just this once, and then, never again," lurkings.
And, now, here I am, coffeeless, at a loss for what to write about, and the only thing that comes to my mind, is
Coffee, I love you.
I wish I could quit ya.
--------------------------
I am tremendously better since off the joe, and on the healing meds. I haven't slept this good and uninterrupted in ages. I move very slowly, as slow as Uncle Joe, and I do stare blankly back and am stuck for a response when you say "good morning," but I feel good. And I haven't slipped off the wagon yet. Those four nights of sitting up awake, in mid-chested pain, pretty much scared the pants off me. So, yeah, there's that memory keeping me unleaded.
Monday, only 1 more Monday, and then it's Christmas~wish I were kidding. So, being Monday, it's Baby E's Post Day. And this is one he has been taking notes on.
This post is for kids only.
And he is very serious about the topic: "How To Get What You Want For Christmas." So, gather the kids, and Baby E will let them in on his sworn to work tricks of working the parental units. And, now, Baby E speaks:
---------------------
My mom loves this picture. It's just me playing around. But this is a good trick to getting your Christmas presents. I'll tell you why.
Tricks To Getting Your Christmas Presents
The tricks I'm going to tell you about today are for kids only.
They only work for kids.
If you have a kid that doesn't read, it's OK if you read this to them.
If they can read alone, then they can read this.
These are the tricks that always work for me. To get what I really want for Christmas.
1. These tricks only work for the stuff you really want. You can't use them for everything you want. It can't be for goofy things. Only the stuff you really want. Like "have to have" stuff. The stuff you want more than anything.
2. You first have to make a list of everything you want. Even if it is 3 pages. Make a long list, and have lots of things you see on there. Make a list that looks like you want 10050 things and then do that. You don't have to write, just cut out the picture of anything you like you see and gluestick it to paper.
You can make this list as big as you want. Then your parents will see how much you want. The trick is this: when they see how much you want, they will only get you what you really want. It works.
3. Sing Christmas carols...all the time. Sing in your loudest, happiest voice and they will love this. They will feel like shopping for you. Sing "Away In A Manger" as loud as you can while you do good and quiet things like saying, "mom, I'm making Christmas cards for my brothers." This trick works. She will feel like buying you something that day. Make your mom ornaments, too.
4. Tell your mom to play Christmas music. Always ask for that. This works.
5. Put on a Christmas play called "A Christmas Carol." You can be all the ghosts. You can be the Ghost of Christmas Past, The Ghost of Christmas Present, and The Ghost of Christmas That Will Be. I got this idea after we went to seeA Christmas Carollast week.
You do this: make a play sign saying there is a play. Call your family to sit on the sofa. Have only one light on. Use a blanket for all your costumes.
The Ghost of Christmas Past can be you showing how happy you were last year when you got your favorite gift.
The Ghost Of Christmas Present will be you showing them how happy you will be when you get that one gift you really want.
The Ghost of Christmas Future will be you showing them how sad you will be when your one gift you really wanted isn't under the tree.
This will work. I practiced this morning, and my mom, well, I could tell it will work.
6. Your Christmas lists are important. I showed mine to my dad and he told me I needed to rank them in order of wanting and to write on top of the list "Updated" and "Newest Version" so that he would know. He said this would help. And so I do that when I add to my list. Next week, I will have my mom show your kids my lists.
7. I told my mom that I cannot do chores today, I have to work on my updated list and it is the most important. And she said OK.
8. Have your mom watch the Target.com commercials together with you about the kids who are so happy when they open their presents. This will work.
9. It is IMPORTANT to be the nicest person in the world starting right now.
10. Do stuff without anyone asking you to.
11. When your mom shops, ask your brothers to go with her. So she doesn't buy crazy stuff.
12. When you make an updated list, you have to shout "Updated List is up!"
13. Put the catalogues with the stuff you really want all over. I put them in my dad's bathroom, his favorite room. He can look at it then. When he goes to the bathroom, I knock on the door, and say, "Dad? Do you see the catalogue in there?" He says, "Yes, Baby E, thank you."
These things will work. Next week I will show you my lists.
I have one more thing to say:
Why do people do ornamental dumping?
My mom was driving, and we went past a house that had a HUGE Frosty the Snowman next to a Candy Cane Lane and next to a Baby Jesus and next to a giant snow globe and then there was 2 reindeer with a Santa next to them! That is ornamental dumping!
You cannot have Baby Jesus next to a snow globe! You have to decide what you want and can't have everything in front of your house like that.
Bye!
It snowed today like a blizzard and church was cancelled and so was my brother's volleyball game and we stayed inside in pajamas!
--------------------------- Happy Holidays to all of you!
The emails and comments came in all "For Narnia! " and "Keep Baby E!" and I thought, "heck, yeah, I'll keep Baby E." And so, here you have it.
I don't know what mental state came over me and I thought I'd change Baby E just because a few emails told me that they hoped I had already started to save my money now for the future therapy Baby E would surely need since I'm calling him "Baby" and clearly, he is no baby.
Whateves.
It's Baby E. Back to Baby E. And here he goes. Thanks so much for stopping!!!
--------------------------------------
Hi! I'm glad my mom kept my name. I'm used to it.
My new friend I made even calls me "Baby E" now and he says he feels cool when he says it. He said, "I feel cool when I call you Baby E."
My mom got a mug with Baby E on it, right, Mom? ("shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....baby e....it's going to be a Xmas treat...." ) OK, Mom.
This weekend was great
This weekend was great.
It was all sports.
Oh, I have so much to say about it.
I go to a SpeedSchool here.
They teach you how to go so fast, and I got fast after 2 times only.
My dad takes me. My mom says it's too hard for her to watch how much work they make me do. But I love that part. They have me push tires over and over. And when I'm done with SpeedSchool, I say to my mom, "touch my hair" and she goes "oh!" cuz it's soaking sopping wet with sweat.
My dad jokes and makes me laugh when he takes me, he says, "Oh! I was getting so mad when I saw how hard they made you work, I almost jumped in there and let them have it!"
My dad cracks me up.
And basketball started, too. I'm good at that. I love our coach, Lenny. He's funny, too. So, on Saturdays now, I am very busy.
After SpeedSchool, and basketball, I had to go straight to Scouts. And I mean crazy straight. Like a movie. My dad picked me up from basketball and had me put my scout shirt OVER my basketball shirt and I went to Scouts like that! Like in a movie.
We went to a Nursing Home to give out these ornaments we made to the people that live there. My mom always says she loves old people, and that we will all be old one day and to always think of that. I know she says that's true but I can't imagine that of me.
I loved this weekend.
TurtleMan
My older brother next to me is a TurtleMan. He does everything slow. S-L-O-W. I call him TurtleMan. He eats slow, he comes when you call him, slow. He gets his shoes and coat on slow. He prints and draws slow. My mom says he is just being "careful and exact." He doesn't care, he even calls himself TurtleMan.
Sometimes my mom gets frustrated and says, "Maximus! We have been waiting for you since the dinosaurs toget your coat on. Come.On.Now!" and I say, "Mom, look at at this way, at least he can't getany slower." And that makes her laugh.
I Think I Want A Little Brother
I think I want a little brother sometimes. I want a little brother because he would be fun to have and my friend has a little brother and he is funny. And my other friend is going to have a little brother soon, his mom is popping!
I do want a little brother. But, sometimes, I think I don't because I would lose my rank in the cuteness factor. I know I would fall out of the cuteness range, so I think no, maybe, I won't have a little brother.
Who Would Do This
My mom read the Aesop's Fable The Tortoise and The Hare to me.
And all I could think is "who would do that?" Come On. How can you be surprised to lose when you hello? take.a.nap during a race? Who does that? Just cuz you're winning does NOT mean you say, "oh, I'm winning, I think I'll take a nap."
You keep going to the end. My dad says you keep running and don't slow down in a race until AFTER you get to the finish line. After you cross it, then you take your nap.
We went to see MegaMind. I really wanted to go and was excited when my mom said we were going. It was me and my middle brother, TurtleMan, and me.
It was boring. I never laughed one time.
I can't believe that. They made it seem so great on the commercials.They said, "Have you heard what they say about MegaMind? Hilarious!" And I think what I didn't like about it was I didn't like the bad superhero, Tighton. He was mean.
Bye.
And it's almost Christmas. Next week I'm going to teach your kids how to make sure you get what you want on your Christmas List. There's a trick to it.
Bye. Did you get your kids something for St. Nick's? We had hot cocoa and candy canes stirred and melted into it.
-------------------
A VERY special THANK YOU! to Dana @Bungalow '56 and her wonderfully wonderful eldest daughter for the "cleaner" look on this blog today. They eliminated the plane that had automatically come with the background design--and that drove me nuts--"Off with it's head!"
Thank you, to you both, for all the "little" things you did that make this blog look so much better.
I can't even look at this picture today, without my throat getting tight on me. It's a picture of my now oldest, who was one on the day this picture was snapped. He is 15 now.
I had dressed him in his first grown up clothes that day: a navy blue polo shirt and pleated, pressed khaki pants. He looked just like his dad, and his dad was beaming. I was beaming at finally having my baby, at 36 years old.
Looking at my three boys' baby pictures kills me, anyway--I don't know why I do it---torture myself that way, but, I do. Anyway, today...this picture is killing me.
Since the first second I became their mother, I was transformed into their very own "Ripley." I was untouchable, unbeatable and nothing stood in my way when protecting my children.
It became what I lived for, without question, and I rose up to meet my role. When they cried at night, I'd swoop down and lift them and felt as if I were rescuing them from some lonely tower.
They were soothed by only me.
Life continues on this way, with days that trick you into thinking they will never end. You will always be Ripley, you think, armed and ready, to save them from everything.
Then, the day comes, out of nowhere...where the first live superaction heroine they've ever known, is powerless. The day where she can only sit and watch, and is not able to swoop in and pick them up out of their crying crib.
I watch, feeling a golfball in my throat, while my 15 year old firstborn apple of my eye, struggles with a life lesson.*
I can barely stand it.
The Umbilical Cord
Oh, Doctor, are you sure....
the day he was born and you cut the cord-
that cord that connects child to mother-
did you make it a clean cut? complete?
Because sometimes I wonder
when the sound of his cry would cause
the strange pain, prickly pins,
"letting down" the milk to meet his need.
And when, as he advanced to solids and fed with a spoon my mouth popped open
with every attempt to spoon food into his; my tongue licked the corners of my mouth
when the baby food spilled out on his face.
If the cord was cleanly cut, complete
why the sinking sick stomach in me
at the sight of his blood after a fall?
Why is my mouth dry
when he is the one on stage to say the lines?
Why are my palms sweating
when he is the pitcher on the mound? *Why does my heart ache when his is broken?
Doctor, could you check?
I think the cord is still intact.
~Jana Vick
PostScript: a HUGE thank you to Shell @Things I Can't Say, for writing the perfect post for me to find today. Thank you, Shell. I needed to read just the words you had for me at your site today. Thank you.
On Thanksgiving Day, much happens. Much busyness happens. How wonderful if we stop for just a few minutes on that day, and think of how we are to model Thanks Giving for our children. They learn more by watching than by what they hear. ---------------------------------------------------------
Baby's Skies
Would you know the baby's skies?
Baby's skies are mother's eyes.
Mother's eyes and smile together
Make the baby's pleasant weather.
Mother, keep your eyes from tears,
Keep your heart from foolish fears.
Keep your lips from dull complaining
Less the baby thinks it's raining.
M.C. Barlett
Happy Thanks Giving Day to all of you, and may you be blessed with a grateful spirit.
I am truly grateful for each of you that stops over here, each of you. I love my readers.
*Li'l E: "Mom, how much do I have to write about grapes?"
Mom: "As much as you can remember. You know, just go back and remember what we read. Write all that down."
L'il E: "But, Mom....that's so much stuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuufffff."
Mom: "Just do what you remember. What makes grapes, grapes. Why they're important. How unique they are, the different kinds of grapes, why we like them...all that you remember. Just close your eyes and pretend I'm reading to you, and write that down, alright?"
L'il E: "But, Mom....there's so much to wriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiite."
Mom: "Do what you can, what you know, about grapes."
L'il E: (voice brightening up a bit too suspiciously) "Mom, can I use pictures?"
[yes, readers, I totally missed the alert message on this red flag. Should've been paying more attention to the"loophole alert loophole alert" message being sent ...] Yah. And since I was not listening with both ears and brains, I said....
Mom: "Suuuuuure, Li'l E. Go ahead. Pictures will be great."
[famous last words]
And, so, you see, Dear Reader, this is why we have the wonderful Food Group Report on Grapes above, telling you all about the different kinds of grapes:
Mommy Grapes
Baby Grapes
Grapes on Parade
Grapes Rolling Down A Hill
Grapes Hiding in a Box
Grapes Standing on Their Heads
Grapes SideView
Grapes that are Happy Grapes
*IN OTHER NEWS: This will be the last post entitled Baby E posts.
Name Change Explanation: *sigh*. I do not like negative comments. I do not like negative emails. I do not like people worried and concerned that I am treating Baby Elike a baby and not letting him grow. I have received emails and comments this month letting me know that I am screwing Baby E up royally (royally...just couldn't pass that up) by calling him Baby E.
In my culture, "baby" does not mean, a literal baby. It means, "my little one." In this case, meaning is lost in translation. But, the concern about the concern about Baby E concerned me enough that we will publicly changeBaby E posts to Li'l E posts.
Estimated costs to raise one child are $220,000. Multiply that amount by how many other children you may have and you could just puke at the thought of how much money you need to make.
And if you don't have children, still, who doesn't need money? We all need to make money. Money.
You may have been thinking "there's no money in blogging, why should I blog, and blog a lot?" and you may be thinking "No, no, I Can't Spend Any More Time Blogging for Nothing. I Need To Spend My Time Making Money." Everyone tells you there is no money in blogging. Do you know why? Because they want you to stop. Close up shop. Drop out. Bring in the shingle. Just give up. That way, there'll be one less of us out there to reap it all in. Yes, they know what I'm about to tell you right here. That nasty rumor that there's no money in blogging, well....
Here is where everything in your life just gets so sweet and good.
The following information is from an article in last week's Wall Street Journal, dated November 12, 2010. WSJ asked, "is it possible to become successful simply from hard work?" You know the answer by the giddiness you sense at my hand, don't you?
The answer is YES.
The theory they propose--and stay with this, because you will be walking on air and sashaying those who-me-I-got-no-problems-no-mo' hips in about 3 minutes--the theory is this:
In England, it's called "the ten year rule," in America, it's known as "the 10,000 hour rule."
Simply:
To become successful at anything, you must spend 10 years working at it for 20 hours each week.
JUST THINK! We now HAVE to and MUST spend 20 hours a week for 10 years blogging!
Gather in a little closer, and let's just not pretend with each other, alright? Like we don't already spend hours a week doing this? You know we do. That's the beauty of this set up, it doesn't change what we're already doing. IF we're all being honest here.
Minimally, this is the amount of time they say we must put in."Do so, and success is all but inevitable."
Their beautiful words, not mine...can you people hear my maniacal laughter? it's as good as delivered. In a brown uniform, with the doorbell ringing. All I have to do is keep on doing what I'm already doing. Except, now I can do it GUILT-FREE. I am blogging for our future, honey, selflessly tapping away. I am sacrificing today for tomorrow. See what a good wife/parent/friend/partner/person I am? I could be spending time with you, but instead, I am slaving away at the keyboard, perfecting my craft. Getting better with every keystroke.
It is believed that all the hours spent doing just one thing form a skill-based expertise that meshes with growth of knowledge, that will be a valuable asset to an audience just starting out, and your skill based expertise will be sought out. And rewarded. Zippity doo dah.
As Bobby Fischer said when he became the U.S. chess champion nine years after playing chess since age 6, "All of a sudden, I just got good."
Ready, set, see you in 2020--party, my ranch. I'll send my jet to pick you up.
*Add on: As of this afternoon, I've received 3 emails telling me that there is no money in blogging, and I can't be serious. Yes, you're right...I'm not serious. This was just a poke at never making money from blogging, but still putting in the hours because the payment is in the fun, and the people you meet. And, yes, I do know, there is no ranch for me at the end of ten years. Just kidding around here...
It's Monday, and Baby E's day to post.He has a few bones to pick today, mostly about his brothers. This is his place to vent, so I will let him have at it. And he is soooooo very ready. He speaks, I am only his scribe.
------------------------
FRUSTRATION
Hi.
It's me. And I am frustrated about a lot of things.
I used to say mad, but now I learned to say Frustrated. Frustrated feels like mad, but it's different because frustrated feels like you are going to explode.
My mom taught me to go away and count to ten, sometimes higher, till I can come back and talk about it. It's when you get so mad you just want to cry and run.
My brothers make me frustrated. They are bigger and older. I love my brothers but sometimes they laugh when I say stuff. My mom goes crazy CRAZY! crazy when they do this. She goes all crazy. Here's what happened.
I like surprises.
If they are big or small is not what I care about. I just like surprises.
My mom knows this and will bring me home surprises.
Today, she went grocery shopping and usually, at home, what we have is that my mom mixes cinnamon sugar for me, home made style, for my toast. But today! she came home with already mixed cinnamon sugar that was poured inside of a clown's body with his yellow hat being the shaker for the stuff. She got this at the store.
When my mom is done grocery shopping, she comes home and me and my brothers all go out to the van and help carry in groceries. We all help unload them onto the island, too. I like to do this because sometimes there is a surprise for me. This time, there was a surprise! It was the cinnamon sugar.
I opened it right away by pulling off the silver top that was under the yellow hat BUT when I did pull off the foil circle smoke! came out.
I dropped it and was surprised, and said, "Mom! There's smoke coming out!"
My brothers laughed and said, "there's no smoke in there, it's dust from the cinnamon. hahhahhahhahahahahahaha" and they wouldn't stop laughing.
I ran upstairs because it makes me so mad when they laugh.
I heard my mom get mad at them and told them to finish with the groceries and she came up by me. She told me it was dust that comes out that looks exactly like smoke and to come down and experiment and see. But I didn't want to. The truth is I didn't want to because I was embarrassed to see my brothers because they think I'm dumb. My mom told me they don't think that, they just don't think. period.
I stayed up for awhile and she went down and then she said, "Baby E, cinnamon rolls!" And I just had to come down. When I came down my brothers both hugged me and said, "sorry, brother." And that felt good. And that is what frustration comes from, so mad you just want to go away. But that is over now.
OUTSIDE IS CRAZY
The outside of our house is crazy. My mom says this is because winter is coming and the animals are looking for warm places.
But it creeps me out and I just want to go to bed early.
Like, THERE IS AN OWL LIVING IN OUR CHIMNEY!
At night, you can hear him rustle and settle and go "whoo whooo whooo" he does it three times in a row and it's loud and echoey cuz it's in the chimney and only at night so I like to go upstairs so I don't have to hear it. My mom says he is fine and to leave him be. But it just scares me.
Also, WE HAVE COYOTES BEHIND OUR HOUSE!
Like, one night, my mom thought she heard sirens all night, and she said "hmmm....what is going on? The sirens are running all night." And my mom said she was going to call the police to see if maybe something was wrong with the sirens or something. And so she did and the police laughed and told her, "those weren't sirens, those were the coyotes and to please keep any pets inside at night." She did not like that last advice.
And she said she made the mistake of telling my older brother and now he is afraid to take out the garbage at night and my dad laughs because my brother wants to be an air force pilot and my dad says, "Yup. America's finest, right here, fearless, under our own roof" and my brother gets mad at that and says, "I'm only afraid of coyotes in case they think I'm a pet and attack me."
THE DEAD FLOP
I like to playThe Dead Flop.
It is the funnest game.
What I like to do is wait till everyone is busy doing something by themselves in the house.
My mom can be cooking, my brother can be drawing, my other brother can be reading, and my dad can be on the laptop. Then, I like to just lay down and not move in one of the rooms in the house. My mom will always say, "where's Baby E. Brothers, go find Baby E for me, I haven't seen him for awhile."
Then they get up and look for me and I am laying quiet and still and not moving and TRYING SO HARD TO NOT LAUGH when they find me. And I am laying still doing TheDead Flop where I don't move and they can't pick me up or make me talk or anything.
And they say, "MOM! He's here but he's not moving. "
And she always comes, and goes, "Oh! Baby E!" And she picks me up and I don't move a bit and am just like a floppy fish and I try so hard not to laugh and she says, "Quick, boys, go get the Swedish Fish. That's the only thing that helps with The Dead Flop" and they go get Swedish Fish--but skittles work, too, and SourPatch Kids--and they come to me and they put a Swedish Fish in my mouth and I come back to life and I love that game.
MY HAIR
My mom says she is combing my hair but I say she is "ripping my hair" cuz she attacks me with the comb. I don't like my hair. It is curly. I cut it myself a while ago because some kids called it "Curly Girly Hair" and so I went upstairs and cut it. My mom took me to get it cut shorter now so that the cut parts match.
She says girls love curly hair.
Bye and December is almost here. PLUS: come see me here for the month of November.I'M FAMOUS!
Hello! It's finally a time where Baby E can post. Mondays are his days, and we've been so busy. But, finally, soccer and football are over...so we are back. As always, he speaks, I type. I am just the royal scribe to Baby Emperor's decrees. Thanks for being here... and here are his thoughts for the week:
Hi. It's Me. And I have lots of stuff to talk about today.
The important stuff has to be first. The most important thing is how to make money. This is about how I make money. You can tell your kids these ideas. They work.
HOW TO MAKE MONEY
First, you can just ask for it. Sometimes, you can say, "Mom, can I have a quarter?" and sometimes your mom and dad will just say yes.
I always make money that way first.
Next, I go to jobs. There are always jobs. My mom always has jobs for me because there is lots she didn't do. Like to vacuum is easy and good and I like it. She plugs it in for me and that job costs her 50 cents to give to me. She always says yes to that job.
Also, there is picking up the garbage cans from all around and bringing them downstairs. That job is a quarter. That is easy and that is a good job, too.
My favorite way to make money is to do Classes. I will tell you about that. After that, I do Shows. I will tell you about that.
CLASSES TO MAKE MONEY
I do Domino School. You can learn Dominoes from me for 35 cents for 10 minutes. I will show you how to build any pattern you want, or I will build you a pattern, but I will let you knock it down.
Everyone in my house likes when I make a sign for Domino School.
Oh! When you do a school, you have to make a sign telling of when your school is, and where, and how much. You just can't sit and wait for people to come. You have to make signs. Then you have to announce super loud with your hands making cups over your mouth, "DOMINO SCHOOL!"
SELL YOUR ART
This one is so easy. Draw a picture, your mom will buy anything you draw. Also, put her name on it and say, I Love You, and she will buy it.
Also, make a sign that says you are selling art. You have to do that. Then make pictures of what your family likes. My brother likes bugs, my other brother likes anything, my dad likes cars, and my mom likes flowers. Make it in their favorite colors. Those pictures are 10 cents. Make a sign. Also, you can make drawings on demand, that means right away. My sign says, "wait...then enjoy!"
PUT ON SHOWS
Put on shows. Make stuff for your shows, and then put clothes on to match your show's name. You have to make a sign.
Today I did a show that was a play. It was a house made of paper that I cut and taped into a circle from big paper, and then cut out animals. I made a sign.
The truth is this: I haven't really made up the play yet. The truth is that I make up the play as I go along, but I don't tell anyone that because I want them to buy tickets.Tickets are 50 cents.
HAVE AN ULTRASTORE
This only works if you have collections. People don't want to buy extra stuff that doesn't rhyme together. They like to come and look at collections. I have a rock collection from all the places we go to that sell rocks, and I line them all up and they are 5 rocks for a quarter. And people like to see collections and choose for themselves. I am open from 10:00 until 6:00.
READ
I will read to you for 25 cents a chapter. You pick. My dad picks the Wall Street Journal. Then he laughs. I don't get it.
ADVICE
I will give you advice and solve your problems. I am very good at it. My dad always ask me what to do about work and I tell him. Advice is 10 cents.
DO WHAT YOUR MOM WANTS
In the morning, I give my mom choices of what she can have me call her all day. She says she loves this a lot and always buys this.
I say to her, "Mom, what do you want me to call you all day?" And you have to do what your mom picks all day for you to call her. I give her these choices. And she picks and I do it all day:
My Mom's Choices For All Day:
"What is your bidding, O mighty pharaoh?"
"Yes, my Liege."
"As you wish..."
"I shall return with your bidding.."
"How can I serve you, my queen?"
"What can I offer you today?"
"Yes, O Wise One."
"Speak it, and it shall be done."
"I shall not fail you, O Supreme Commander."
When she picks out what she wants me to say all day, I have to say it and bow down at the same time.
At first, I was kinda shy, because, Mama Lori, let me tell you: there are NO other ladies in this house.
Only The Empress.
It's all men, boys, and noise, and...not really quiet, you know.
But, then, I met Oldest's backpack, he was SO nice, but pretty young, and then I met thefamous Baby E's backpack, and he was just so little, and cute. And I met Middlest's backpack, who was really smart. And, then, oh, Mama Lori, I don't know how to begin.
I........
I........
I looked up, and there. he. was........Mr. Big.
Picnics with Mr. Big
The Emperor's Laptop bag.
Spending sunny afternoons together
Mr. Big gave me my first rose. EV-ER.
I felt so special.
We had sweet talks together in the yard
We played on swingsets together
Sometimes we sat and just said nothing
We did so much. Mr. Big taught me to scooter. Mama Lori, I LOVE the feeling of speed! I felt so free, so young, so ALIVE with the wind blowing through my sequins! Mr. Big told me, that when the sun hits my sequins just so, that I look like a star that fell right out of the sky. He said, "So, did it hurt?" And I asked, "did what hurt?" and he said...oh, Mama Lori, he said, "When you fell down from heaven." *sigh*
Our scooters
We played a game called "Chess" together, and he is so smart, and good at teaching things. I won after only one afternoon of playing. He said I could learn anything, I think he let me win.
Chess matches in the game room
There is so much to do in this town. Everyone had something happening for Halloween. It's a wonderful weekend to be here, Mama Lori! We spent a wonderful Friday here, I can't wait till tomorrow, Saturday!
We went on a Gothic Tour of the town to see the first cemetery
That was a wonderful Saturday, Mama Lori! I'll never, ever forget it. I fell asleep, dreaming of what we'd do on Sunday. I am so very happy.
We began Sunday with coffee at LaMonde Bakerie
I had coffee today! I love it! It makes me feel good about EVERYTHING! It's the perfect drink: it calms you down, but brings you up. I had a great time laughing and talking and wishing my cup was bottomless!
We sat and felt the warm sun
We joined in on the town's pumpkin walk
And, still, more of those strolls along the creek......
I could have lived in that day forever, but we had to hurry home, we were going trick or treating with the family. Our costumes were waiting for us!
Ready for Trick Or Treat!
Family ready to Trick Or Treat
We came home, bags full of candy, so very tired. I was happy, and sad, because I knew, and Mr. Big knew, that tonight would be my last night here.
Mama Lori, you were young once, right? Please keep that in mind, when I explain to you what happened next. Do you remember when someone would walk into a room, and your heart would race? Remember that? Please say you do, it'll make it so much easier for you to understand what I'm about to tell you.
It had been chilly, so we decided to use the jacuzzi......
I'm not sure how this happened......
.....or this.....
He loves me, Mama Lori. Mr. Big is going to take care of Purseylette while I honor my commitments. The Empress is so happy to have a baby girl in the house, she, along with Mr. Big, will take wonderful care of Purseylette. Everything will be O.K. They will be reading about me to Purseylette, and showing her where I am on Project Purse And Boots. And, after I finish what I promised I'd do, Mama, and meet with The Bloggess at BlogHer 2011, I'm hoping I can come back, here, and be with Mr. Big and Purseylette.
I feel good about this, Mama L., and now I'm ready to leave Monday, to meet Meg at BestOfFates!
The Mom: "We need to leave in about 5 minutes. Is your bed made?"
15 yr old Angsty Son: "Yup."
The Mom: "Pleeeeeeeeese, oh, please, don't say "yup." You sound like a baby coyote. Say, "Yes, Mom."
15 yr old Angsty Son: "Yup. I'm kidding! Yes, Mom."
The Mom: "So. The bed is made. Your bed is made."
15 yr old Angsty Son: "Yup."
The Mom: ".........audible extended puffy sigh............"
The Mom: "So. If I go upstairs now, to your room, and look at your bed, it'll be made. Is that right?"
15 yr old Angsty son: "Yup."
The Mom: "................second audible extended puffy sigh.........."
The Mom: "Okay, then, let's go take a look."
15 yr old Angsty Son: "I told you. It's made."
The Mom: "Then this'll be good, right? Let's go look at your made bed together."
15 yr old Angsty Son: "It's made. I know what a made bed looks like. I don't have to go see what a made bed looks like. Maybe you need to go see what a made bed looks like...I don't. Especially when I'm the one who made it."
Baby E: "Ooooohhhhooooo!....owned!"
15 yr old Angsty Son: "High 5, baby bro..."
The Mom: "No. Don't encourage that, Baby E. You go finish breakfast, I'm talking to Alec."
The Mom: "Alright then, Bedmaker Man. I'll go up and look, and if it's not made, you will make it before school, got it?"
15 yr old Angsty Son: "You said to make the bed, You asked if I made the bed. I made it."
The Mom: "I'm going up now. To look at your made bed. And if it's not made..."
15 yr old Angsty Son: "It.is.made.Mom."
The Mom: "Going up now. Up the stairs. Last chance. I'm on my way. I hope you're not late because you have to makeyour.............. ALEXANDER!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Perfectly Made Bed
15 yr old Angsty Son: "You asked if it was made, you didn't ask if it was Perfectly Made."
Gender disappointment.There's even a name for it. It's when a small corner of you is wistful for a daughter, or son, that you didn't have.
How many parents harbor a smidgeon of this wish? 3 out of 4, according to a survey I came across.
Today, I guest post at LifeWithoutPink, and discuss gender disappointment. Do you have it, have you gotten over it? Are you at peace with your life now?
I'd like to know what you think. I hope you'll stop over at LifeWithoutPink, and let us know if you are among the 3 out of 4, that did yearn for a son or a daughter. And if you did, how did you resolve that wish? Or haven't you?
Thank you! If you don't know Tina yet, you'll enjoy meeting her. She has a blog that always has something happening. I call her "the party house." Because that's what it is...contests, guest posts, features, projects, you'll never feel lonely knowing Tina. If you're new to blogging, LifeWithoutPink offers you so many ways to get involved and quickly meet others. She has the nicest readers, too.
