Memory Interruptus

10pm
Saturday
My son sleeps
My daughter models
her new
dress

Tomorrow
she takes her first step
off the dizzying
adolescent
precipice of
the
Bat Mitzvah circuit

She shops
in my closet
for shoes
a ballerina girl
twirling
in her first tutu

Smiles
laughter
sharing

Posing
pointing
next!

Frustration
hissing

SCREAMING
SLAMMING

Good night
sweet girl



*photo courtesy of tutufabulous.com.au

Dueling Cell Phones: My Relationship With My Tween In A Nutshell

"Hi, you've reached "M's" cell phone and...it's Friday, June 20... and until... Saturday, June 21 I might not be answering my cell phone...unless you're my mom because then I have to answer it or you'll get really mad at me so... yeah...okay, bye, leave a message, bye."

"Hi, "M", this is your mother calling and you're not answering your phone so... I guess I'm really mad at you...so... yeah. Call me back. Bye.

Casa de Cuckoo Part Deux, Trois, Quatre...

I love my family.
I love my family.
I love my family.

You got it?
Yes?
Good.

Cuz now that you know how much I love them, I can say this without guilt...

GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE, SOMEONE, RESCUE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm trapped in my house, one kid still sick, laundry piling, dishes stacking, dog hair shedding, and husband going away for three days on his testosterone-laden, action-filled weekend.

While he's boating on Utah's Jordanelle and hiking the majestic Wasatch mountains, I'll be cruising across smog-laden Los Angeles in my gas guzzling SUV, chauffeuring to karate, a sleepover, and a bat mitzvah.

Oh, yay! I can't wait for the weekend. I'm soooo excited!

I love my family.
I love my family.
I love my family.

WAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


**Note: I just downloaded a movie clip for Get Smart on Itunes. It is hysterical! I am DEFINITELY SEEING THIS MOVIE TOMORROW! I don't know how, I don't know when, but I'm going! Things are looking up!

photo courtesy of cinematical.com

Casa de Cuckoo

Your house would be crazy too if you and both of your kids were trapped at home instead of out in the summer sun blowing goobers into tissues and spray sneezing all over the dog.

Hubby's staying out all hours, washing his hands like Lady MacBeth, and raiding the pharmacies for vitamin C. He's got a manly man weekend planned and nothing, not even his family who needs him, is gonna keep him from that.

Since my daughter has been sick so many times this year, 24 school days to be exact, I've put her on vitamins to boost her immunity. I've tried this before but my girl is no dummy. She takes them for a few days and then stashes the bottle in the back of the cabinet counting on dear ol' mom to forget about them.

And yes...I do.

But not this time. No! This time mom is at the ready. I sweetened her up with some home- brewed iced tea with crushed ice, just the way she likes it, then I placed the teeny, tiny pill right next to her ice cold drink and told her "take the goddamn pill or I will shove it down your throat I will sit by your side offering comfort and support all day if I have to."

My daughter knows how to swallow pills; has for over a year now. She just doesn't LIKE to take them. Well, have you seen the pills I choke on everyday?


NO SYMPATHY HERE

"I can't swallow if you're watching me!" my daughter tried playing her old tricks on me.

But I've been fooled before, finding the evidence hours later at the bottom of the fruit bowl, wedged between the place mat and the table, or buried beneath her pillow.

I saw One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest AND Girl Interrupted. I know the tricks; hiding meds under the tongue and then spitting them out or slipping them to the nearest unsuspecting loon. (Hmmn, maybe that's why the dog's coat looks so good.)

My girl is going nowhere until I know that pill is safely down her rabbit hole.
Each day. Every day. Until she goes to college. Or until I forget. Whichever comes first.


Just call me Nurse Ratched.


**Thank you all for your nice comments on the last post. I did check on the nest yesterday, and while I couldn't see inside the street sign, I did hear some baby chirps. I have no idea if it was the same bird but I prefer to think on the bright side.

Just Another Monday Life Lesson

While walking around the corner to pick up my son from a play date, visions of a microwaved dinner and early bedtimes danced in my head. Sneezing and coughing my way through school volunteering and shopping at Trader Joe's tired me out; spreading germs citywide can do that a person. I dreamed of getting the kids to bed so I could lay my own congested head on a pillow sometime before midnight.

But the powers that be had something else in mind for me today. Halfway to my destination, I found my son, his two friends, and their babysitter, hunched over the grass looking at this:


"Mommy, mommy!" my son cried. "It's a bird. A baby bird! It fell out of it's nest. I think it's dying!"

"Help it, Fran. You have to help it!" his friend pranced around helplessly. "Call the animal doctor. Get an ambulance. Hurry!"

"Don't touch it," I screamed as they hovered over the little body. I explained to them that if you touched it the mother might not accept the baby back into the nest. (I learned this sometime, somewhere, but couldn't remember the particulars - better to be safe than sorry.)

"Help it, Fran. Help it," repeated the friend. "Do something, he's DYING!"

The little bird kept reaching it's neck toward the sky and opening wide it's yellow trimmed beak looking for it's mommy, for food. It's body was an bold display of exotic colors - blue, pink, yellow: Beautiful if it weren't so displaced.

I called a friend and had them call a local vet. She called back and asked if the nest was accessible.

No.

Is the mother bird nearby?

No.

We had been standing back, keeping some distance, hoping the mother bird would return and reclaim her offspring. We could hear other birds chirping nearby but saw no mother. My friend told me to stay there in case any predatory cats came by.

We waited a few minutes. Nothing.

I left the boys and the sitter keeping watch and my son and I ran home. I called the California Wildlife Center office (a suggestion to my friend from the vet). They instructed me to build a makeshift nest, place the baby in it (it's apparently ok to touch a baby bird - who knew?) and nail or tape it close to the nest in case the mother returns. He said chances of survival were slim since the featherless bird was so young but without finding the nest, it was the best we hope for.

This is what my son and I put together.

He picked the lambs ears for a soft bed. I don't know if he put the flower there on purpose but, either way, it was a nice touch.

I wrapped packaging tape around the tupperware nest so it would hang securely from a branch of the tree.

When we returned, I picked up the baby bird who continued stretching and gaping hoping it's mother was nearby. I placed it in on the bed of leaves. Within seconds the bird had the flower in it's mouth.


"It's poisonous! That's a poisonous flower!," screamed the friend. "Get it out, get it out! He's going to die."

The flower wasn't poisonous but it could have choked the bird so the sitter pulled on the flower while I held the bird's body for leverage.

It took two grown women and a dozen attempts to pry the flower from this baby's beak. It's frail body belied it's strength.

The sitter noticed pieces of a nest inside the street sign right above where they found the bird so we taped the temporary nest to the pole beneath it.


She and her boys needed to get home. My son left, too. I remained. Keeping watch. Me. The nest. The bird.

A few minutes later a neighbor came out of her house, "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Trying to save a life."

I explained the afternoon drama. She left and came back with a ladder. Within minutes, bird and soft leaf bed in hand, she ascended the ladder and deposited the baby back where it came from. Where we think it came from. There were no signs of life but we hoped for the best. (I'm sparing my kind neighbor photos of her butt on the internet. I feel I owe her that.)

As we took down the ladder we noticed a bird watching from a nearby tree. We hoped it was the baby's mother. We don't know. We left to let nature take it's course.


My son wondered all evening about the bird's fate. I couldn't honestly give him a happy ending but I tried what I thought was the next best thing. He had brought home sweet pea flowers from his school garden. They had wilted in his backpack. He wanted to throw them out rather than give them to me as planned. I secretly put the flowers in some water and called him over when they'd had time to refresh.

"See, sweetie? They're not dead. They just needed a little help."

He fell asleep worrying about the bird. I told him sometimes all we can do is help out the best we know how and let nature do the rest. I assured him that whatever happened, the bird was resting comfortably, thanks to him.

He smiled.

Happy Father's Day: Love Works In Mysterious Ways

My hubby did such a nice job this Mother's Day as written in this post, that I thought I'd do the same for him on his special

So to make him feel like an extra special Dad...

I chose today to catch a nasty cold,
I chose today to sleep while he made everyone breakfast,
I chose today to sleep while he fed and walked the dog,
I chose today to sleep while he drove our daughter to her dance recital,
I chose today to sleep while he dealt with our whiny son.

See how that works? I let Dad be an excellent Dad on Father's Day. That's just the kind of loving wife I am.

Sorry, Hubby. Better luck next year.
Happy Father's Day to all.

***Merlotmom has been published! (By someone other than herself.) That's right, I'm a somebody now. Please, please, sit down. No more applause. No, really. Please. Oh, you're so kind. Okay, seriously, please check out this page in today's Opinion section of the Sacramento Bee and please comment. I love company, NICE, POLITE, company.

Woo hoo! That and $4.75 will buy me a gallon of gas...oh wait...that was last week.

Spin The Bottle: Beer or Wine? Take Your Pick

Help!!!! I've been meme'd! Someone call the paramedics!

Okay, I'm not dying but I have been tagged. Tammi at Love the Eclectic Life spun the beer bottle and it landed on me, ms. merlot. Don't much like the combo but stranger romances have survived.

I don't much like memes, either. Don't like chain letters (I break 'em, so don't send 'em), but this one seems harmless and literary, so I'm game.

Here's the task at hand:

1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged you.

"Put him on the line," said Brian.
I handed the man the phone. He held it to his ear.

Not very interesting or illustrative of Anne Lamott's charming essays in, Grace Eventually: Thoughts On Faith, but who am I to break the rules.

Now watch me spin the bottle ???

slouching mom
because she'll like a literary meme
baby on bored
because she and I are practically neighbors
vintage thirty
because she makes me laugh
boobs, injuries, and dr. pepper
because her chronicles are incredible
help, i have a teenager
because she is wacky, wild, and entertaining