Costumes 2013

 We love dressing up around here.  Well, the kids do.  Talk of Halloween costumes has been topic of discussion for weeks.

Jackson, Dr. Who.  (The 11th Doctor.)

Libby, Nim.  (From the book, Nim's Island.)

Cash, Captain America.  (Enough said.)

Penelope, Rainbow Dash.  (My Little Pony)

Juliet, a bunny.  (inspired by her own lovey bunny)


My life is not a sit com

Last night as I was lying in bed I saw something run out from under the chair next to my bed.   It scurried under my bed, came right back out, and went under the chair again. 

I flipped out. 

I told Jimmy what I saw.  In a very loud and screechy voice. While clutching things. 

I did not know what it was. So Jimmy grabbed a laundry basket and prepared to lift the chair and attempt to catch whatever it was. 

We'll as you've probably guessed, it was a mouse. And as we lifted the chair it evaded the laundry basket and hid under my bed. 

And then my life was all of a sudden a sit com from the 80's. 

I am hysterical. I am now standing on my bed in my pajamas continuing to screech at my husband, my eyes darting frantically around the perimeter of my bed so that I will see if he escapes. (Insert laugh track.)  We formulate a plan. I block two edges of the bed with pillows and blankets (still standing...never getting any closer than necessary) while continuing to scan the perimeter as Jimmy goes to get something to capture it in. 

(I can see Cliff and Claire Huxtable trying to catch a snake in a pillow case.)

He brings back a broom and waste basket. The plan is for me to scare him out and force him in the one direction that isn't blocked. 

After encouragement from Jimmy I do get off the bed and do my job with the broom from one side while he waits on the other.  The mouse runs out and hides again under the chair.  Now it feels like an episode of I Love Lucy. We block every possible exit and prepare to tip the lazy boy chair forward and trap him under the waste basket. I look Jimmy in the eyes. I tell him this is it.  He needs to be the one. He can do this. 

The mouse is fast but Jimmy traps him, right next to the bathroom door, which we had closed so he couldn't get out of the bedroom.  I am doubtful. I am pessimistic.  I don't think Jimmy has done it.  He is sure he has. We talk for a moment, adrenaline slowing to a normal level. We discuss what to do with it. I am still asking if he is sure he got it. 

Sliding a book underneath ("How to draw baby animals" just happened to be on the floor in my room) we flip the waste basket over. I heard the mouse slide to the bottom.  Jimmy moves the book and peeks.  I can't bear to look.  He doesn't see him.  He peeks again.  There is nothing in the waste basket. 

He had crawled under the door.  

Now we have no idea where it is.  In the amount of time we stood there and discussed it the mouse could have gone anywhere in the house. 

I used blankets or towels or pillows to block the spaces under every bedroom door in the house. The kids rooms from the outside in the hall, and ours from the inside. I don't want the mouse bothering my babies! I was aware I could have been trapping it in there with them, but sometimes as a mother you have to feel like you're doing something. 

This morning Jimmy discovered that part of the peanut butter jar lid had been chewed on. (This would be our mega Peter Pan jar from Sams with the thin plastic lid and foil covered cylinder which I keep in a low cabinet.)

Tonight I am setting mouse traps. I don't care if it's cruel.  I don't care if he is just a tiny animal. He violated my quiet calm bedroom and he will die.  

Jimmy has decided to balance out my inhumanity. He said he looked into his eyes. That he's probably got a whole mouse family and that he's just out gathering supplies. Maybe they're getting ready for Christmas. They probably have a thimble. He rides a motorcycle. Blah blah blah.  

So anyway I am putting peanut butter on four traps and placing them strategically in our house. I will go to bed wishing that it has all been a dream in the form of an episode of The Dick van Dyke show and that Rob Petry would make funny faces, do a little slapstick, and make my mouse problem go away while Mary Tyler Moore stands distraught on a chair in her capri pants and apron.

But though it often feels like it, my life is not a sit com and problems don't go away in 24 minutes with a few commercial breaks. But I can dream. 


Tambourine Collage

I came home this morning from a photo session hoping everyone was ready to jump in the van and head to church. 

As I approached the garage door I could hear the sounds of my home coming through the open window. When I heard some tambourine playing I smiled and felt happiness. You never know what your children will be into day to day. And what it will sound like. But it is always full of life. 

As I opened the door and stepped inside I saw that the tambourine player was in fact Jimmy, and not a child after all. I still smiled. 

Friday I found these collages made by Cash and Libby.  They made me laugh. Posted here for all with love from the j train. (insert tambourine playing)


What's Going On, Reeds of Grass

A lapse in blog does not mean a lapse in blog worthy happenings.  It means there's no time to process life, you just ride it until it slows down a little.

So here's what's going on.

Class, art. 
Only one a month through the end of this calendar year, but lots of head space is devoted to this.  And new blog space, actually.

School, home.
Trying to find my way through the day and keep the academic agendas at the forefront of my mind for a K, 2nd, 4th, and 6th grader leaves me feeling a little drained at the end of the day.  I spend much of my time redirecting and honing people in to stay on task and finish.  And then as I lie down my head I begin to strategize new behavioral methods and reward systems to keep said children on task.  They want to build forts and play with toys and I want to do it with them.  But there is some sort of squawking parrot of sorts who sits on my shoulder and tweets "Math!" "Language!" "Reading!" "Science!" "You don't want your children to grow up ignorant!" and other such blips.

Appointments, photography. 
I have begun to schedule photography appointments for the next two months.  I have begun to be one of those people who doesn't remember life without a calendar.  I actually used to remember everything.  Now I'm sure there will be someone I forget even with a meticulous calendar.  I have filled all my slots and then some and I feel many different things.  Excitement.  Anxiety.  Humility.  Stress.  Determination.  Joy.  I sleep a little between all this.

Rental, house. 
Our first of the season this past weekend.  I stayed in town and worked a wedding and Jimmy took the children to Brandon.  I hate being away from my family but did actually enjoy the space a little and it went fast.  We are now living in the "let's keep everything clean" first few days but we know we will fail and we must return to our life as rock stars in a hotel room eventually.  Penelope knocked our her other front tooth Saturday.  Her mouth/chin has nine lives.  But less teeth!

Epiphanies, parental. 
What a nice word.  Epiphanies.  Epiphanies.  Epiphanies.  Watching my Ju Ju and Pip play last week I felt sad.  They were running around the FSU school of music courtyard (Capital City Children's Choir is also going on...) and deep down I saw the joy and wonder of my precious children.  But mostly I felt sad.  I wanted to be in the moment and laugh--or at least smile uncontrollably.  Instead I felt deflated.  Why?  Because they are growing up too fast.  They are so big.  There is so much behind us.  So many good times and pieces of life I can't get back.  But this epiphany was good.  I'm aware.  I'm going to try and love the present.  Run around with them and not be sad about the past that is gone.  It has brought us to this.  Joyful moments with nothing to play with but reeds of grass.