Adventure, One Soda Pop At A Time

My friend at worked had picked up this exotic soda somewhere and could not get anyone else at work to try it. This is apparently the only indigenous soda drink made in India. And it is SUPPOSED to taste like alcohol but have no alcohol in it. It was originally called Whiskey No and this apparently appealed to people.

My friend from work was who I went into the city in NY with and had adventurous dinner in China Town.. So he knew I'd at least try it.

What he might not have known is, I'd make my kid try it first. 

But that wasn't completely fair. So, I did try it. Luckily, my husband took a lot of pictures as I enjoyed this tasty beverage.

It tastes a bit like vanilla coke with rum and vomit.

What's even more sick, after a few drinks, you want more drinks.

Sorcery.

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Adventure, One Soda Pop At A Time

My friend at worked had picked up this exotic soda somewhere and could not get anyone else at work to try it. This is apparently the only indigenous soda drink made in India. And it is SUPPOSED to taste like alcohol but have no alcohol in it. It was originally called Whiskey No and this apparently appealed to people.

My friend from work was who I went into the city in NY with and had adventurous dinner in China Town.. So he knew I'd at least try it.

What he might not have known is, I'd make my kid try it first. 

But that wasn't completely fair. So, I did try it. Luckily, my husband took a lot of pictures as I enjoyed this tasty beverage.

It tastes a bit like vanilla coke with rum and vomit.

What's even more sick, after a few drinks, you want more drinks.

Sorcery.

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Panty Spiders of North Georgia

I have progressive lenses, which I had to get a few months ago. They're pretty weird to get used to, with three different prescriptions in them and so sometimes if you tilt your head wrong the world slides a bit, or you get weird bits of things on your peripheral vision's edge that turn out to be nothing.

I might've remembered that, as I sat on the toilet at work, reading my phone, when I glanced down and saw A SPIDER IN MY PANTIES.

I leaped up, screaming and swatting at the crotch of my panties stumbling backward out of the stall in an awkward crab-walk, still flailing in an effort to escape something that was IN my clothes.

It was about then, pants around my knees, that I got a better look at the spider.

Which was a knot of long brown hair that had gotten tangled up in the wash and sort of wound into my panty elastic stitching.

It was nothing like this. I swear.

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Panty Spiders of North Georgia

I have progressive lenses, which I had to get a few months ago. They're pretty weird to get used to, with three different prescriptions in them and so sometimes if you tilt your head wrong the world slides a bit, or you get weird bits of things on your peripheral vision's edge that turn out to be nothing.

I might've remembered that, as I sat on the toilet at work, reading my phone, when I glanced down and saw A SPIDER IN MY PANTIES.

I leaped up, screaming and swatting at the crotch of my panties stumbling backward out of the stall in an awkward crab-walk, still flailing in an effort to escape something that was IN my clothes.

It was about then, pants around my knees, that I got a better look at the spider.

Which was a knot of long brown hair that had gotten tangled up in the wash and sort of wound into my panty elastic stitching.

It was nothing like this. I swear.

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One Plus One Equals Six

I was given a bamboo plant by my friend Michelle K. when I had my first son. It had three stalks, and we felt it symbolized our family. We took good care of it until our family exploded into 5 just a short 19 months later. At that point, we didn't take good care of anything for a while and mostly keeping everyone alive every day was our big achievement.

The bamboo died.

The children did not. Victory was ours.

But when we relocated to Georgia we acquired a new bamboo. They call them lucky bamboo in the stores where you buy them, and I don't know about all that, but we felt that we needed a new one, and found one with five stalks.

In the past couple of years, it's really grown.

After starting out about ten inches tall maybe, it's over twice that now. In fact it burst open it's cute little pot.

And I don't know if it's lucky or not, but I know it's smart. After all, a plant that had five base stalks, grew a sixth one right on time.

If it's not lucky. It's kinda cool.

It's almost as if our bamboo plant knew what my husband says, one plus one equals six.

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One Plus One Equals Six

I was given a bamboo plant by my friend Michelle K. when I had my first son. It had three stalks, and we felt it symbolized our family. We took good care of it until our family exploded into 5 just a short 19 months later. At that point, we didn't take good care of anything for a while and mostly keeping everyone alive every day was our big achievement.

The bamboo died.

The children did not. Victory was ours.

But when we relocated to Georgia we acquired a new bamboo. They call them lucky bamboo in the stores where you buy them, and I don't know about all that, but we felt that we needed a new one, and found one with five stalks.

In the past couple of years, it's really grown.

After starting out about ten inches tall maybe, it's over twice that now. In fact it burst open it's cute little pot.

And I don't know if it's lucky or not, but I know it's smart. After all, a plant that had five base stalks, grew a sixth one right on time.

If it's not lucky. It's kinda cool.

It's almost as if our bamboo plant knew what my husband says, one plus one equals six.

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Girls Are Born Tough

My mom always says that. Girls are born tough. Boys, boys you have to teach to stand up for themselves and once they get it they go hogwire. But girls, girls are wired as badasses from day one.

I think maybe that's why we swaddle them in pink, and saturate their lives with softness. We're trying to take the edge off these power ninjas we've given birth to.

My own parents got me a kitten. I was too rough, I played rough and hard and I needed something soft and gentle to love, and so Morris came to live with us. He was my love and best friend for 18 years. And yes, despite the fact that I put doll dresses on him and also used to carry him around inside my Fisher Price Schoolhouse, he definitely had a softening impact on my person.

I was thinking of this truth today at soccer practice, watching Julia do her own thing, disregard the rules and generally display a general disinterest in anything BUT her own will and wants. As I watched her, from behind the plexi, she proceeded to do a kick line while the rest of the children sat down.

She didn't stop when they said stop, she used her hands. 

But I was reminded of just how tough little girls are, when they were playing sharks and minnows. Minnows are kicking their ball down the field. Sharks are trying to kick their ball away. Julia was carrying her ball, no reason to chance losing it to a shark, I suppose.

A little boy ran up and tackled her, knocking her ball out of her hands. As she rolled free of his tack, she kicked him directly in the face.

Hard.

And ran away and grabbed her ball, continuing to run up and down the field carrying her ball. The little boy went to the sideline to cry.I can't really blame him, he got kicked in the face. He also tackled a girl a lot smaller than him, so he might've earned that one.

Another girl got tackled by another boy. She kicked him in the nuts. 

Girls 2

Boys 0

It must be in their genes.

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Girls Are Born Tough

My mom always says that. Girls are born tough. Boys, boys you have to teach to stand up for themselves and once they get it they go hogwire. But girls, girls are wired as badasses from day one.

I think maybe that's why we swaddle them in pink, and saturate their lives with softness. We're trying to take the edge off these power ninjas we've given birth to.

My own parents got me a kitten. I was too rough, I played rough and hard and I needed something soft and gentle to love, and so Morris came to live with us. He was my love and best friend for 18 years. And yes, despite the fact that I put doll dresses on him and also used to carry him around inside my Fisher Price Schoolhouse, he definitely had a softening impact on my person.

I was thinking of this truth today at soccer practice, watching Julia do her own thing, disregard the rules and generally display a general disinterest in anything BUT her own will and wants. As I watched her, from behind the plexi, she proceeded to do a kick line while the rest of the children sat down.

She didn't stop when they said stop, she used her hands. 

But I was reminded of just how tough little girls are, when they were playing sharks and minnows. Minnows are kicking their ball down the field. Sharks are trying to kick their ball away. Julia was carrying her ball, no reason to chance losing it to a shark, I suppose.

A little boy ran up and tackled her, knocking her ball out of her hands. As she rolled free of his tack, she kicked him directly in the face.

Hard.

And ran away and grabbed her ball, continuing to run up and down the field carrying her ball. The little boy went to the sideline to cry.I can't really blame him, he got kicked in the face. He also tackled a girl a lot smaller than him, so he might've earned that one.

Another girl got tackled by another boy. She kicked him in the nuts. 

Girls 2

Boys 0

It must be in their genes.

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Fathers Day Failure And Being Happy Anyway

It might've been the influence of the Dark Side but our carefully laid plans for fathers day when awry about 45 minutes from home. 

The plan was simple, drive up to Brasstown Bald for our traditional Father's Day Mountain Time and then, quick snack picnic, then to the Outback for dinner. Simple, no?

It went sideways when my GPS took us off course - and then we were late. Then, I had forgotten to give the girl her dramamine and as we came down the second switchback....BAAAAAARRRRRF. All over the backseat of the car.

Plan B was invoked. We were 10 minutes from Helen, GA. So to Helen, GA we went.

We went to our favorite place, Charlemagne's Kingdom, to see the trains and just relax for a while. The kids LOVE this layout. The owners are amazingly sweet and nice, and let the twins in for free because they are autistic. 

It's a magical layout, and I'm not sure when we'll get to the point that we believe we've seen it all. There is so much detail and fun hidden all around it.

After we had taken in the view from the North Sea to the Alps - we decided to find dinner. After some considerations of here and there, we ended up at a place called Bodensee just a step off the beaten path in Helen, featuring more north German fare which was amazing.

The owner of the restaurant had a treasure chest for the kids and Julia got a little pink purse that she is now completely enamored of. This might be her third pink purse but you'd think it was her only one she was so in love with it.

So how was our day? Not the day we planned. Our plans were ruined. 

But how was our day? Really? It was amazing and wonderful and one of the best days ever. 

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Fathers Day Failure And Being Happy Anyway

It might've been the influence of the Dark Side but our carefully laid plans for fathers day when awry about 45 minutes from home. 

The plan was simple, drive up to Brasstown Bald for our traditional Father's Day Mountain Time and then, quick snack picnic, then to the Outback for dinner. Simple, no?

It went sideways when my GPS took us off course - and then we were late. Then, I had forgotten to give the girl her dramamine and as we came down the second switchback....BAAAAAARRRRRF. All over the backseat of the car.

Plan B was invoked. We were 10 minutes from Helen, GA. So to Helen, GA we went.

We went to our favorite place, Charlemagne's Kingdom, to see the trains and just relax for a while. The kids LOVE this layout. The owners are amazingly sweet and nice, and let the twins in for free because they are autistic. 

It's a magical layout, and I'm not sure when we'll get to the point that we believe we've seen it all. There is so much detail and fun hidden all around it.

After we had taken in the view from the North Sea to the Alps - we decided to find dinner. After some considerations of here and there, we ended up at a place called Bodensee just a step off the beaten path in Helen, featuring more north German fare which was amazing.

The owner of the restaurant had a treasure chest for the kids and Julia got a little pink purse that she is now completely enamored of. This might be her third pink purse but you'd think it was her only one she was so in love with it.

So how was our day? Not the day we planned. Our plans were ruined. 

But how was our day? Really? It was amazing and wonderful and one of the best days ever. 

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This Is Why I'm Tired Today

Last night I felt I'd scored a small victory, I'd talked the girl into letting me sleep on my own side of the bed. Actually, I told her - you sleep on Daddy's side. I want my own side. That worked for a moment, but then her brother came in to kiss her good night and she says "Lou will you come snuggle with us too?"

And then two of them are in bed.

I moved her over to the other side, putting me in the middle - he sleeps too hard and I worry that he won't realize he's laying on her, and then, I've got two children bascially draped across me. Every time I move, they fill the void in space where I was making it impossible to put that limb or bit of torso BACK in that spot.

I'm smooshed.

That's not why I'm tired.

From the boys room is a loud chorus of "Q FOR QUEEN" and other alphabet things. It's been going on for a while. But I get up and find my earplugs, and again this isn't why I'm tired.

I am tired because the girl keeps waking me up. She's wiggling. She's doing things but I can't ever wake up enough to divine WHAT she's doing. Something she's not supposed to be doing.

At one point I look over and see her holding her sippy cup - with her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. SWALLOW IT I whisper, knowing what she's doing. She does and giggles and gives me an unusually wet kiss. Her face seems wet. I can't figure out why. I fall back asleep.

I'm awoken when Miles needs changed, the husband has come to do it - apparently the ABC litany is secret code for CHANGE ME tonight. I get up and realize, the sippy cup is EMPTY and upon the girl moving to her own bed, her spot is soaked.

She has been laying in bed spitting fountains of water all over herself, and my pillow and spot in the bed.

So a towel was put down and I elected to sleep and extra thirty minutes this morning.

But that's why I'm tired.

(Pic is from my son's big 80s dance. I wasn't tired that day. It's my inspiration to survive today!)
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This Is Why I'm Tired Today

Last night I felt I'd scored a small victory, I'd talked the girl into letting me sleep on my own side of the bed. Actually, I told her - you sleep on Daddy's side. I want my own side. That worked for a moment, but then her brother came in to kiss her good night and she says "Lou will you come snuggle with us too?"

And then two of them are in bed.

I moved her over to the other side, putting me in the middle - he sleeps too hard and I worry that he won't realize he's laying on her, and then, I've got two children bascially draped across me. Every time I move, they fill the void in space where I was making it impossible to put that limb or bit of torso BACK in that spot.

I'm smooshed.

That's not why I'm tired.

From the boys room is a loud chorus of "Q FOR QUEEN" and other alphabet things. It's been going on for a while. But I get up and find my earplugs, and again this isn't why I'm tired.

I am tired because the girl keeps waking me up. She's wiggling. She's doing things but I can't ever wake up enough to divine WHAT she's doing. Something she's not supposed to be doing.

At one point I look over and see her holding her sippy cup - with her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. SWALLOW IT I whisper, knowing what she's doing. She does and giggles and gives me an unusually wet kiss. Her face seems wet. I can't figure out why. I fall back asleep.

I'm awoken when Miles needs changed, the husband has come to do it - apparently the ABC litany is secret code for CHANGE ME tonight. I get up and realize, the sippy cup is EMPTY and upon the girl moving to her own bed, her spot is soaked.

She has been laying in bed spitting fountains of water all over herself, and my pillow and spot in the bed.

So a towel was put down and I elected to sleep and extra thirty minutes this morning.

But that's why I'm tired.

(Pic is from my son's big 80s dance. I wasn't tired that day. It's my inspiration to survive today!)
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Ok Then This Happened

I was giving the three littler children a bath this evening. Over the years I've become on guard for every parent's least favorite episode, poop in the tub. Even though the twins are still in diapers, they seem to have gotten better about understanding that it's not appropriate. However, I eye them for odd stances, being "too quiet" or other signs that shenanigans of the poopie sort are about to ensue.

I am ever watchful.

Imagine my surprise when I realized the girl child was having a squat.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING??" I nearly shrieked at her.

She stood up, stared at me with a bewildered expression and said very calmly, "I'm going to poop in the tub."

OH NO YOU'RE NOT !!!!

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Ok Then This Happened

I was giving the three littler children a bath this evening. Over the years I've become on guard for every parent's least favorite episode, poop in the tub. Even though the twins are still in diapers, they seem to have gotten better about understanding that it's not appropriate. However, I eye them for odd stances, being "too quiet" or other signs that shenanigans of the poopie sort are about to ensue.

I am ever watchful.

Imagine my surprise when I realized the girl child was having a squat.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING??" I nearly shrieked at her.

She stood up, stared at me with a bewildered expression and said very calmly, "I'm going to poop in the tub."

OH NO YOU'RE NOT !!!!

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Days I Don't Remember

This is a picture of me holding Miles on his 7th birthday. Or his sixth. Let me think. 2010, no that's his sixth birthday. There is a funny story about this picture.

I don't remember it.

OK not so funny.

I was ten days out from the c-section experience from hell. I took Versed WILLINGLY to be knocked out as soon as my princess was cut away from me. I didn't know before I took it, that it has an amnesia effect. I am told they showed her to me when she was born. I don't remember. I remember bits and pieces of the surgery and afterward. My days beyond it were like that too. Drugged into a stupor on darvocet or whatever it was, I don't even remember this day.

It upsets me that I can't remember this silliness, and these presents. I admit I've looked at these toys and wondered where they came from sometimes. These pictures don't part the clouds for me though. 

This might be the only time in living memory that they ate cake. They hate cake. I can't believe I don't recall this day. I can't recall them EVER willingly eating cake. Where did these memories go? I was awake. Drugged yes but awake. I was nursing a newborn.

A newborn who was eating icing from her big brother.

I also don't even remember this bouncer. It's like looking at pictures from someone else's life, looking at these pictures. But I'm IN them, so I was there.

I WROTE a blog post.

I forgot that I wrote it. I don't remember any thing about it, and now that I read it, it's still a blank.

I have an unnerving feeling I am missing part of my life that I can't get back, it's just not in my brain. Stress, drugs, I don't know what. But these days that I lived are gone.

This is bothering me a lot.

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Days I Don't Remember

This is a picture of me holding Miles on his 7th birthday. Or his sixth. Let me think. 2010, no that's his sixth birthday. There is a funny story about this picture.

I don't remember it.

OK not so funny.

I was ten days out from the c-section experience from hell. I took Versed WILLINGLY to be knocked out as soon as my princess was cut away from me. I didn't know before I took it, that it has an amnesia effect. I am told they showed her to me when she was born. I don't remember. I remember bits and pieces of the surgery and afterward. My days beyond it were like that too. Drugged into a stupor on darvocet or whatever it was, I don't even remember this day.

It upsets me that I can't remember this silliness, and these presents. I admit I've looked at these toys and wondered where they came from sometimes. These pictures don't part the clouds for me though. 

This might be the only time in living memory that they ate cake. They hate cake. I can't believe I don't recall this day. I can't recall them EVER willingly eating cake. Where did these memories go? I was awake. Drugged yes but awake. I was nursing a newborn.

A newborn who was eating icing from her big brother.

I also don't even remember this bouncer. It's like looking at pictures from someone else's life, looking at these pictures. But I'm IN them, so I was there.

I WROTE a blog post.

I forgot that I wrote it. I don't remember any thing about it, and now that I read it, it's still a blank.

I have an unnerving feeling I am missing part of my life that I can't get back, it's just not in my brain. Stress, drugs, I don't know what. But these days that I lived are gone.

This is bothering me a lot.

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