September 11

As you know, I am easily overcome even in the best of sleeping times. But this is year ? of questionable sleep and it is really showing. I forget moments immediately after they happen, like beating Big M at a third game of backgammon in a row. I triple book weekends (sorry KMK). I also no longer wear my emotions on my sleeve but brazenly across my chest. So September 11 is quite hard for me. And, when I try to offer a brief explanation after that sentence as to why, I just sit here writing and re-writing for over an hour whilst my youngest two sleep. So. I won't write why it is hard for me. It is. It will be. That's all I have right now. In honor of September 11, I am offering an update on our honest little girl. She too wears it all on her brazen chest and offers no pretense. Thankfully most of her emotions are varying degrees of pleasure as long as no bodily functions are involved. Eating, burping, pooping and the like are all very disturbing to her. Little M calls her our cockatiel. She is very fond of her recently grasped hands. That in fact is the second most cool thing on the planet to her - grasping her hands and looking at her thumbs and fingers be very thumb and finger-like. The most cool thing on the planet to her is settling into the crook of your arm and cooing up at your face. She can gurgle in the back of her throat and stick her tongue out and growl. Both of these acts were taught to her by her siblings. A good gurgle and growl. I have taken her lead and found that a good gurgle and growl can indeed get one through just about any day even with emotions on one's chest.

just an update...

 

better than dessert

My 7-year-old asked to watch "Super Man-Eating Snakes" rather than have dessert to top off a really great summer day.

motherhood according to the ever-loyal G-love

What is happening here is my listening my way through a G-love tantrum. A big bro with anaphylaxis, a little bro with some questionable delays, and a newborn sister means that my incredibly capable G-love takes too much on and gets lost in the shuffle. When she hits her limit, she tantrums. The cause of this tantrum is big bro breaking Social Rule #1 in my house: no moaning. Apparently, they agreed to go halvsies and trade half of their different flavour Z-Bars. Mid-trade, big bro decided to moan. She decided to discipline. The world did not understand that she had my back and the tussle in the back resulted in such a tantrum that we had to pull over and get her out of the car as she broke Social Rule #2 in my house: only listening children are invited into my car. In all fairness, big bro moans a lot, yet, we still had to review our personal jobs. Mummies enforce Social Rule #1: no moaning. Sisters must follow-thru: go halvsies when you say you will go halvsies.

I asked her, "Am I a sister?"

She said, "No. (insert red faced wailing and snot/drool/tears dripping onto my forearm. She does not "cry pretty" as they say in the movie industry...) You do not have a moaning brother. "

I said, "Then I am not the one who can go halvsies. Are you a Mum?"

"No," she said and without breaking for me to tell her that my job was to stop big bro from moaning, she wails, "I do not have milk in my breasts or a higher education."

So. That's me. A highly educated pair of lactating breasts. hm. hmmmm. In all fairness again, I don't think that the Greedy Tulip even knows of my higher education as she doesn't even know she has opposable thumbs. G-love has my back. She is loyal.

jimmy fallon

'
Grumpy corners lurk in the dark of the early morning in my house. To tell you how I combat this, I must first tell you that I love Jimmy Fallon. I love him. I love his late night show. I record it so that when Greedy Tulip arises from her bed at 3 am I have something to keep my mind from going to unecessarily grumpy places. Last night I thought to myself whilst watching him slip-n-slide crash into a tower of toilet paper for a world record, "I would be a great sidekick for him when Higgins is sick." Then I thought, "How would I apply?" Then I thought, "No, they would never even let me through the trap door as they think I've not paid dues."

Ha! Not paid my dues.Ha!

Okay Mr. Television. I've not done time in front of beligerant drunks. But I guarantee my crowd of kids in polyster costumes every day of summer in 90+ heat constitutes a tougher crowd to keep laughing. Thank God the Greedy Tulip lacks head control, awareness of her opposable thumbs, language, and enough core strength to insist thru words and actions that a horse/lion/darth vader suit is vital summer attire. 3am alone with her is not too bad after the sun comes up. Have your people call my people Jimmy. Wait, don't. My people only breath heavily and stare blankly after hitting the talk button.