Poke Poke

The Ninja Princessa is a vegetarian.  Steadfast and true.  (Though not preachy!  She had to agree not to try to convert anyone else as one of several conditions for letting her take complete charge of her nutrition at age 12.) But she is passionate.  Ethical and humane treatment of animals is one of many causes close to her heart.  So having four carnivorous brothers is somewhat of a trial.  Especially when one of them (Bug) works hard to live up to his moniker by coming home wearing this:  

Yep.  I'm thinking the boy has stepped out from under the umbrella of the No Preaching Zone.  I think I'm gonna let her have at him.  This should be fun. Peace.

***Edited to add:

More parental cackling:

Bug was all woeful in the kitchen talking about how OLD he was getting.  How TIRED he felt working 9 (whole) hours in one day - programming his little heart out after a late night spent drinking too much and sleeping too little. (<--I think that was the last part.  I wasn't able to hear it clearly over Linus' guffaw. Linus, mind you, had just flown to a trade show, worked two 18 hour days, and flown home just in time to jump on a two hour conference call.  While Bet and I haven't been *quite* as busy - we have both been working pretty non-stop and training and having our share of nights out to boot. That we all laughed instead of lecturing or taking offense was restraint I believe. Or maybe it was senility.  I don't remember.  I'm just sooo OLD.) 

Fast Forward

So...perhaps a bit of an update is in order.  

Here's my crew as they look today (or really, three weeks ago but whatever.)  Top Right and going counter-clockwise (or widdershins as some of us like to say): Chaos, Mayhem, Havoc, Bug, and the Ninja Princessa.  It was amazing and wonderful and unusual to have them all home at the same time in October.

A bazillion and twelve things have happened in the what, 27 months or so, since I last posted and it was scanty fare before that.  But here is where we are and I'll try to back fill later -

Chaos - age 19 as of this summer.  Still sassy (as you can probably tell from the picture).  Graduated from high school last spring (after some pretty serious drama which may or may not be the subject of a future post.)  He is living with my mother - after getting "kicked out" of his father's house (hey - another long story!) I wanted (very much!) for him to come back home and live with us - but he wants to stay working where he is and be around the friends he has there. He is working technically part time but about 40 hours a week at a fast food place.  He is an amazingly hard worker and is getting paid next-to-nothing.  He talks about going to college in the spring or summer or someday.  He is still passionate about history - especially World War II - and says he thinks he wants to end up being a history teacher.   Whatever he chooses is fine with me. He's a great guy and we (he and I) had a rocky summer (during which he refused to talk to me, answer my texts, or acknowledge my existence) so it was fantastic that he came home with the younger boys for Fall Break.  (He had to take a week off of work to do so - which is a big deal and not something he does. It meant a hell of a lot to me.) He's brilliant and wacky and opinionated and empathic and ... very much himself.

Mayhem - age 17 as of this summer.  A junior, handsome and suave, completely into lacrosse (goalie) and all around congenial guy.  Very interested in fashion.  He is a seriously sharp dressed man - and will have to get a job at Buckle very soon to support his shopping habit.  Still ADD as hell and struggling in school - but smart and enthusiastic.  He is one of those guys at the football games - bare chested painted up - cheering his team on.  He is kind of dating (I think) - a girl here.  They talked and texted after he left this summer and went out a couple of times when he was back for Fall Break.  He is so easy to be around.  He's in the throes of deciding which colleges he's interested in.  He is working on his art portfolio for Governor's School.  Now if only he can pass Latin this semester...

Havoc - turns 13 this month! - with Tallulah and Wasabi (4 and 6 respectively).  Havoc is in the 7th grade.  OMG - we have no more in elementary school.  And only one in middle school!  The last one to hit the teens.  It is crazee to think of.  Anyway...Havoc is wicked smart (and on the gifted track still - in spite of my continuing reservations about it). He struggles with ADD and repelling paper like Mayhem, but for some reason he is able to maintain and get enough assignments in to have great grades.  He's a lacrosse goalie too.  It has been wonderful to see him so active and physically conditioning.  He is still in love with the idea of becoming a chef. And he's gotten into drama.  He had the male lead (Daddy Warbucks) in the school musical (Annie) this Spring.  He dropped band.  I think he never got over the fact that they didn't let him play tuba.  (They gave their one tuba slot to a girl in his class.  I think it is ... weird enough that he wanted to play tuba but I truly can't imagine a girl wanting to play tuba.  That's probably sexist.  I don't know.  Of course, if she wants to I'm all about her having the chance to. But really? Why does ANYONE want to play the tuba!) Havoc jumped from instrument to instrument last year and finally said he didn't have any interest this year.

Bug - turns 21 this month!  He is putting himself through community college - getting a double associates in two things IT related.  He was working at Staples but has just gotten a much higher paying and far more interesting (to him) job as a programmer of some description.  (I'm sorry but like car information - IT details do NOT stick in my brain.  I think they are cool and understand them at the time in context - but cannot for the life of me recall them specifically enough to pass on to anyone else.  Go ahead - ask me what Linus does for a living!  It is something involving one or more of the following: data architect, systems, policy, design, chief,  technology something or other. So Bug is a chip off the ol' silicon block.) He is way more social than ever before and has become interested in fashion. Or at least in crafting his own style.  So he and Mayhem spend a lot of time together shopping for clothes.

Which brings us to the Ninja Princessa - age 16.  I love this series of pictures because it is soooooo her!  I was being silly and zoomed in for a close up and out for a full body pic and then when I zoomed in again, she made this little sound like "mweep".  I cracked up when I saw the camera.  She's a junior and in the social justice track at school.  She's president of the QSA (=Queer-Straight Alliance) at her school and on the board of Inside Out (the regional LGBTQIA youth organization).  It's interesting.  She has been a very involved member since her Freshman year.  She didn't date anyone for a long time.  When she first joined we asked if she was interested in girls.  (Not a surprising question.)  She said she thought girls were too much drama but then she went on to say she wasn't particularly interested in boys either.  "I have four brothers after all.  I KNOW what boys are like for real."  Ha!  She said she's passionate about people getting to make their own choices; she supports her friends of all varieties.  She did end up dating a very nice boy who'd been a friend for years.  But they recently broke up. :(  She is still a vegetarian and an activist for animal rights (though she is smart and informed and not like the animal rights activists I detest.)   

In short - my kids are just completely AWESOME.  I have no idea how I got so freaking lucky.  I hope to write an update about the rest of us (me, Linus, and Bet and Tallulah and Wasabi - who should have their own post I think).  Sooner than 2 years at any rate!  But don't hold your breath.  :D  Peace!

Things That Make A Parent Go "Hmmm?"

This morning I noticed that our 13-year old Ninja Princessa's facebook relationship status was updated. She went from being "single" to "married". Intriguing, no? We didn't even get to trot out the Rehearsal Dinner Box! She is so grounded.

I asked Bug what was on his "to do" list today and he said, "I have to remember to sell my camel and buy a lizard." Alright then. Makes my day look downright boring.

I did find out that both the camel and lizard are virtual. Still waiting to hear back about the 13 year old's husband. Peace.

**Edited to add - the virtual husband turned out to be a girl. She and the Ninja Princessa are friends who are on opposite "teams" at school and thus feel like star-crossed lovers (of the platonic variety?). Romi (short for "Romeo" AKA the Princessa) posted a comment after her "married" status went back to single. She said something along the lines of "Oh well. That didn't work. We decided that was enough for bi relationships for now." Hmmm. Not sure what to make of that. They're still fine friends - so I'm assuming that the cross team part was fine but the lifetime commitment was not? And - on a totally different but tangential topic? She and I had a great talk about Planned Parenthood - at her instigation. One of the things she said in that conversation was - "Not for any religious reason, but just for me - I'm planning to wait until I'm married to have sex." It's probably not universal - but the teenage girls I know are waaaay more comfortable with, informed about, and more willing to follow their own path in terms of sex/romantic customs than my friends and I were. I'm all for fewer hang-ups.**

You Know Your Daughter Loves You When...

The other night the Ninja Princessa had a dream that I died. Sure, some smarty pants psychologist could make a case for the Princessa working out her anger at her evil step-mother by killing her off in a dream but I choose to see it as proof positive that I am well and truly loved. I offer my evidence thusly:

Point 1 - Apparently my funeral was a huge success. Fabulous people (including none other than Lorelai and Rory Gilmore) came to say how sorry they were and to offer the Princessa their deepest sympathies. (Now you may not be the Gilmore Girls fanatic that we are so you may not realize what a testament that is to my beloved state - but take my word for it. When the hippest, most articulate and beautiful mother-daughter duo attends your funeral, it's a good sign.)

Point 2 - After my funeral, our whole family moved into the house of my dreams (the Twykham House in Stars Hollow) and the Princessa was sad that I was, you know, dead and couldn't enjoy it so she had my grave moved to the back yard. Yep - they took my dead, mouldering self with them!!

Point 3 - (And this is the kicker.) Not long after the move, I rose from the grave and shuffled back into their lives - ZOMBIFIED!! Me. A zombie! How utterly cool is that?! (You do have to get past the relentless, brain eating, putridness of the zombie archetype and move on to the "wow, my children think about zombies more than they think about anything else in the whole wide world" aspect to see this as a sign of love and devotion, but I am there.) Remembered, resurrected (reanimated, whatever) - I am SO loved. The undead step-mom. There is no higher pinnacle of my children's esteem to which I aspire. Just saying.

Daily, Meaning What Exactly?

Well dang! Totally rocky start. Every day was supposed to be every day? I've double blown it - starting late AND skipping. But it's either go on imperfectly or quit, right? Year Two - and still flawed. Maybe third time's the charm for me and NaBlo. Still, rather than quit, here's some catch up:

Rock the Vote: Election Day was long - about a 22 hour day for me. I worked at the precinct and LOVED every minute of it. We had an unbelievable 73% turnout. (That is roughly twice our usual turnout for a general election.) After our polls closed and we got our precinct reported and squared away, it was off to a returns party. I have said it elsewhere but I'll say a bit of it here. I am energized and hopeful and so grateful for the outcome in my state's and our country's presidential elections. I also completely understand that there are those who feel otherwise. I was a blue girl in a deeply red state for far too long not to empathize with the fearful and disappointed looks on some of the faces around me. I will do what I can (little though that feels like) not to fuel any rancor from partisan divides. I hope that showing this cute picture of the Ninja Princessa and her friend Ki in their Election Night gear will fall on the side of the line that is "tasteful celebrating" not "gloating". (Although since Ki kept referring to her temporary tattoo as a "tramp stamp", I'm not sure the word tasteful applies.)

Remember, remember the fifth of November: Yesterday I spent the day trying to catch up on sleep and household chores. We had a family movie night watching, what else but V for Vendetta.

On the slate for today: I'm still playing catch up! I had meant this post to be quick and do something fun with my profile but five interruptions later I'm thinking my plans were overly ambitious. There's always tomorrow though, eh? Peace.

PS - Hello to my NaBlo friends from last year! Good to be back and can't wait to get a chance to visit everyone!

Where Do I Go Now

Hmmmm, May 27th to July 9th is a long time. A lot has happened. Here's some of it:

We enjoyed hanging out all together while we could as school wound down.

The Ninja Princessa turned 13 and started taking martial arts again. (Tae Kwon Do this time, not karate but I'm not changing her name because it just wouldn't have the same ring. )

She got a silver bracelet from her brothers that says, "A sister is a forever friend." (They picked it out!) She almost cried which made them go all boy and start hitting each other to relieve the tension. (They did not put up with hugs.)

I got a hair cut. Woo hoo!

Chaos turned 16 and had a Cthulu tentacle "cake" only someone stole one of the tentacles before I could even take a picture. Boys! I'm sure I should have posted about this earlier too because I won't do it justice here, but Chaos has this new routine that he does about being oppressed because he's a "Ginger". It's a hilarious play on a combination of the red-headed step child being left out and Black Power rhetoric. (NOT to make light of real civil rights struggles. He more or less walks that line carefully.) I'll ask him to take out the trash and he starts in on how it's always the Ginger has to do the unwanted tasks (even though the chores rotate by week and it's his week on the schedule). He's got a couple of red-headed friends at school too that he calls his Brothers In Red. We've made jokes about him being the Ginga Ninja etc, etc. At one of our hilarity infused family dinners, Chaos interrupted a story the Princessa was telling and she interrupted right back saying something like, "Can it Ginger Snap!" We lost it. Hence the "Ginger Snap" on the cake.

Chaos tried to steal my Israeli Paratrooper canvas satchel so I got him one of his own with a skull on it.

Bet went to an oceanography institute for a week and built an underwater ROV (which I will have to get pictures of because it is very cool. She's going to do some great things with her students involving the topics she studied. She's trying to write a grant to get some sextants for her classroom. How cool is that?

We took pictures of the dogs' noses:
Tallulah -

Wasabi -

And Linus had a birthday. Bet and I decided to make it a "theme" birthday. We woke him up with the Secret Agent Man theme song and sent him on "missions" all day long (mostly to get his own birthday presents and to eat). He got clues and maps and had special agent assisting him.

Bet and I were Agent Smith and Agent Smith. We were bad ass. And we got to boss Linus around. It was all kinds of fun. Everyone had to wear X4/GM12 Eco-transponders (i.e. nametages). Agent-In-Training "The Bug" had a cool beetle on his and Agent "Slim Dunk" had a crazy cartoon WWF Wrestler. The evening ended with a party of 12 Special Agents converging on a little Indian restaurant around the corner for dinner. Good times!

There has also been some complete crappiness - mostly involving Mr. Tapioca. The court stuff is ridiculous and the tactics his red neck lawyer employs are stupid. (I hope Mr. Tapioca isn't paying that guy very much. I have yet to receive a document from him that has fewer than five spelling/grammar/punctuation mistakes. Seriously, the last thing I got was a list of questions that weren't even numbered correctly! That doesn't even go into the insanity of the content. I have had such a hard time resisting the urge to post that document here!!!) I think one of the reasons I haven't blogged is because I haven't wanted to spew about it all.

Chaos, Mayhem, and Havoc are all with him for the summer. I get to go visit and have the boys every other weekend. The Princessa is gone for 6 weeks (which used to seem long but is 3 full weeks less than the boys are gone!) Bug is an only child with us for the first time ever. It's a very different dynamic. Bug is still in school - and kicking ass. He's gotten nothing but A's so far! (Chaos finished his semester with straight A's too! The Princessa and Mayhem? Lucky to simply finish the year - especially Mayhem whose attention span was strained to the breaking point with weeks left to tough out! Havoc breezed through but doesn't get letter grades the way the middle and high schoolers do.) Bet is home for the summer and Linus is working from home. It is a summer completely different from any other.

The good news is the triathlon training is going well. We're on track for the San Francisco half marathon in a few weeks. (Our long run this weekend is an 8 miler!) We've already done a "mock tri" the same distance as the olympic distance we're signed up for in September (swim a mile, bike 26 miles, run a 10K) and we did it in less than the cut off time for the course. Since our main goal is to finish, it was a huge confidence booster!

I'm not sure what direction Lilymania is headed. There are some challenges to mommy blogging. It's hard to find the time to blog in the moment when we are in the midst of family activities and it's even harder to blog about my kids when they are all gone for the summer. I've found on my few attempts this summer that those posts come out pretty whiny! And there are only so many cute dog posts I can write. I don't plan on abandoning ship but I'm relatively content to drift aimlessly for a while. Maybe I'll play around with the format and layout and that will spark something - but until then... PEACE!

Photo Mania

Mayhem - did I tell you he's back on restriction? Yeah, FOUR D's on a progress report will do that to you. Good thing he's cute, eh?

Bug wanted to dye his hair black. It's a little blue and kind of elfin, but I think those are pluses in his book. He got A+'s in both of his classes! Yay! We like adult high school!

Wasabi says, "Where are mah eyes?"

Tallulah says, "Treats please!"

Kira says, "But I'm not even yours!"

The Ninja Princessa says, "Yay! I'm off restriction! I can play video games for the first time since February!"

Action shot of Havoc. And a close up of the dimple.

Linus on the porch with a look of "Quoi?"

Bet from faaaaaar away. Obviously I hadn't figured out the zoom yet.

Chaos being Calvin (will post more in this series tomorrow because they are pretty funny) and also him snuggling with Tallulah on my bed.

The kids brought me tortellini in bed (b/c I don't like breakfast foods). They were cute and silly and I love them to bits!!

Guess what I got for Mother's Day?? (And if you didn't guess cute pink camera then dude, what's wrong with you?) Peace.

Listful

Biked for an hour then ran for 20 minutes yesterday. That's known as a "brick" in triathlon lingo. I think it's called a brick because that's what your legs feel like. Either that or it's short for B-ike, R-un, ICK! Bricks have sucked for me in the past but yesterday's was awesome. I biked on the trainer which is boring but makes the transition to running easier for me. If I've been riding through the world at 12-13 mph and then hop off to run about 5 mph, it's makes me feel even slower than I normally do running (which is saying something!!) Yesterday, my run was strong and fluid. I kicked ass on the finish. No legs of brick for me. So, yay for the first real week of training. Only twenty-three more to go.

I keep trying to tell y'all about mediation but it keeps coming out as unmitigated, toxic spew so we'll see if that post ever gets finished.

This afternoon Chaos starts driver's ed. He's ready for it. I am not. I should be. It's only because of convoluted state laws designed to prevent drop outs that Chaos couldn't start driving this past fall. Ready or not, I signed him up for the very first class I could. Ay yi yi. DRIVING.

Friday was a good day for Mayhem. No more restriction and he has a new girlfriend. (Good thing he got his cell phone back, eh?) Not so for the Ninja Princessa. While she is no longer "The Princess and the D" she is learning that three C's don't cut the mustard either. Poor Princessa. She started off being angry with her teachers for giving her such bad grades, managed to let that slide into being mad at us for enforcing the parameters that have long been set, to finally, finally admitting she was upset with herself. It took her a while to move from a whiny "but I'm trying really, really hard" to a more realistic understanding of how little she has been doing, even though that little bit is more than she was doing at first. If she'd turned in her homework every day, asked questions in class, and not gotten reprimanded for attitude and reading outside books during instruction - I would be ok with C's. But she has - so far - chosen not to do the work it takes and she's learning what happens. No fun all around. Being the bad guy is a drag. Do you know how much it SUCKS to have her still on restriction - especially now that she is all alone in misery? I don't like having to be the "mean" parents! I very much want her to get her act together so we can play a bit before she goes away for the whole summer. For starter's I'm dying to take her to see this movie!!!

I cheered the Lady Vols on to victory last night. What a nail biting finish - winning by one point in literally the last second!! Why, why, why do these things last until almost midnight? It would be much more civilized to play the games earlier in the evening. So I could get some sleep. Because I'm sure the NCAA is itching to switch their schedule around to accommodate my beauty rest needs. Oh well. That's what the Finals are all about, eh?

Sorry for yet another disjointed list-like post but I'm saving my limited ability to write coherent paragraphs for the fiction word count of the day. Love y'all! Mean it! Peace.

Old MacDonald's Farm - Version 5.1z

I'm not sure that washing dishes is good for my children. Sure, they're learning great lessons in terms of cleanliness and responsibility. It's the intellectual contamination that has me worried. KP spawns absolutely weird conversation here in Lilyville. Some while back I was called in to referee a debate about which animals are smarter - dogs or pigs. (That part is normal enough, I think. Most people don't really know - or don't want to know - that pigs are pretty darn smart. Wilbur and Lassie could go toe to toe (or hoof to paw) in an IQ test. But bacon is too yummy to have to eat with a side of guilt so we conveniently ignore the idea of smart pigs. To return to our muttons - or dogs and pigs...) After putting in my two cents, I went back to the library while they continued to argue loudly enough for me to hear. They debated which kind of smartness would make a better guard animal. How loyal are pigs? How trainable? How sneaky can they be? (Stealth pigs.) And how strong are they? Could they carry Uzi's?
Errrr, WHAT??
Their conversation veered off from there. They began equipping different barnyard animal armies with various weaponry. Pretty soon they had chickens with grenades, cows with semi-automatics, and pigs with plastique. Nice, eh? This is apparently a game they are designing. There is a forest version too. It has upgrades with foxes, squirrels, frogs, and manatees. At that point I did have to butt in and point out that manatees do NOT live in the forest. "That's why it's an upgrade," they explained. Ahhhh. For a low, low extra charge you too can get the Manatees of Death!
Lest you think my children are merely bloodthirsty wackos, I must tell you that the next part of the conversation is worse! Zombies! (Naturally. It seems like every single darn conversation my children have these days includes at least a token mention of zombies.) Overheard:
Mayhem: Dude, zombie goats! We gotta have zombie goats.
Chaos: Goats? Naah, how about zombie weasels?
Mayhem: Dude, have you seen a zombie goat?! They're AWESOME!
(In my head, I'm thinking, "Dude, have you seen one? Because maybe we need to go to the doctor or something if you have.)
Ninja Princessa (not to be outdone): What about vampire cats? That would be better.
All three boys (shouting): NO VAMPIRES! No, we hate vampires! Vampires suck!
Silence.
Gales of laughter. Finally Chaos gets a hold of himself enough to say, "Zombies only."
Mayhem: What about fish?
Chaos: Oh! Piranhas! Zombie piranhas!
Bug: How could you tell they were zombie fish as opposed to regular fish?
Mayhem: Dude, they'd try to eat your brain!
Bug: Piranhas already try to do that.
Chaos: Good point. No zombie fish.
Mayhem: I'm telling you. Zombie goats. They're awesome.

I have no idea what the eventual outcome was on which zombified animals got the nod. They had finished up their chores and carried the conversation upstairs. The kitchen was spic and span. I had absolutely nothing to complain about, except... zombie goats? It's just weird, man. I'm telling you. To make matters - well, not worse - just more public, this whole conversation happened on a night when Mayhem's best buddy, Justin, had stayed for supper after ultimate practice. When Jan came to get her son, she and I had such a nice talk. She's articulate and put together, but still down to earth. She has two sons (the youngest of whom is Mayhem's buddy). I think we could be friends - if she wasn't secretly put off by the zombie obsession my children are foisting off on those around them.

Jan: Thanks again for letting him stay. I thought his dad would be at practice or I never would have made a doctor's appointment.
Me: Oh, he was no trouble. Polite, fun, and he helped with the dishes even though I told him he didn't have to. We love having him.
Jan: That's great to hear. Wish he'd help me once in a while. (<- Said archly, eyebrows raised, looking down at her son.)
Justin: Well, I helped the kids. The kids do the dishes here.
Jan: Oh! Great tradition! Let's start that too.
Justin: Mom! It's no fun at our house. Here they have lots of kids and they talk about cool stuff.
Jan: We talk about cool stuff.
Justin: Mom, I mean really cool stuff. Like zombies. And manatee bombadiers.
Me: Zombies. Their favorite topic of conversation. I try not to worry about it. (I may have laughed in a nonchalant way at that point. Or perhaps it came out more as a worried chuckle.) Do your boys talk about zombies?
Jan: Not that I know of really.
Me: Ah. Hope it's ok with you.
Jan: You know, if it takes talk of the undead to get kids to cheerfully clean the kitchen, I'm all for it! You should write a book.

Don't you LOVE her? What should my book be called? Zombies Onboard? Parenting Teens The Undead Way? Peer Pressure: The Z Factor?

Peace.

The Saturday Morning Post

Thank you for the support about the teacher. I can't get Havoc out of that classroom, but I have decided to go talk to the principal. I have also decided to talk to Havoc very frankly about this situation. He LOVES school. He is a pleaser. I want him to know that he does have to figure out how to live by this teacher's rules and function in her classroom. That's an important skill even in (or maybe especially in) a situation where there is a personality conflict. However, I need my kid to know that I have issues with his teacher. I don't want him internalizing something she says (like "Havoc, you are just not creative.") It's the same way I am with my kids about music and tv and books that express a value or opinion that I either don't share or that I'm totally against. I don't forbid (most of the time) but I do make them talk to me about what they understood and what they think and I let them know where I stand and why. I can't figure out anything else at this stage - but I very much appreciate your comments!

In other news, we are off to a bat mitzvah. I've never been to one and I'm really looking forward to it. The Ninja Princessa's friends are incredible. They read and study together. They have been asked out by boys but they've decided they'd rather be friends with boys right now. (And they mean that. The Princessa stayed good friends with a boy she had a crush on and who asked her out. He totally understood her. She even thinks he's more comfortable with her now than before.**) The girls are organizing a bake sale to raise money for mistreated animals. The Princessa openly wears her pentacle and there is no issue. They talk to each other about their beliefs and experiences and affirm each other even though they are very different. It is SUCH a change! The girls from last year (with few exceptions) were boy crazy, materialistic, righteous and preachy, exclusive and bratty. Their entire repertoire was shopping for slutty clothes, gossiping about what a bitch some other girl was, sniping about whose church was better, and whining to/about their parents. I was tempted to think at first that The Princessa lucked out with her closest friends here, but even her casual friends seem like intelligent, sweet, and quirky girls! I am so willing to help the Princessa invest in these friendships. Not only are the girls great, but I've enjoyed all of their parents! (Well, duh. With just a tiny bit more thought, I suppose that's not so surprising.) I'm truly looking forward to the bat mitzvah. The only thing that has me the least bit trepidatious is that I don't know what to expect from the ceremony itself. I'd hate to make a fool of myself. Surely they'll have some way of guiding visitors through the appropriate protocols, right? Hanukkah and Passover Seder are both full of instructions and easy to be a part of (sing this, repeat that, and best of all - eat this!) I think we'll be ok. We care, we're respectful. Really we'll be ok. I'll stop worrying. Any minute now.
Peace.
**In a weird twist, it turns out that we were already friends with this boy's moms. Bet taught the boy's older sibs but since she's not teaching him we didn't put it together. At the housewarming party the Ninja Princessa eeked at me, "That's HIS mom! That's HIS mom!" I guess the Princessa's still a little crushy. The inadvertent shrieking up there in those bat frequencies gave it away. She may not be as calm and cool about this boy as she'd like to be, but I'm ok with her wanting to go slowly. Linus would like her to go even more slowly. In fact, he'd like her to move so slowly as to have all motion in the dating direction imperceptible to the naked eye. Scratch that! He doesn't want the word naked coming anywhere close to his daughter. Poor dad. Being realistic, I think we've got a few short months before the boy friends start becoming boyfriends. Still, the Princessa could do worse than this boy. He's kind, very goofy, and has nice mamas. But Linus can rest easy for at least one more night because this boy won't be at the bat mitzvah. Anna's mother told her she could invite boys and she said, "Eew. Why?" LOVE these girls.

When The Locusts Try To Cook

For kids who eat a lot (and I mean a LOT) - my children are not very savvy when it comes to cooking. The exception here being Havoc, the eight-year old chef. It's really the other four - the ones that range in age between 12 and 16 that I'm talking about. You'd think with them being the ones closest to being out on their own and having to fend for themselves that they'd show a teensie bit of interest in the process. But you'd be wrong.

We've started taking turns cooking supper. Linus has Mondays (as that's the day he's least likely to be out of town); Bet's got Tuesdays; I've got Wednesdays; and the kids have Thursdays. The weekends are mostly fend-for-yourself - which comes as a relief after the kids' night. At first we tried to have the kids cook as a group, deciding on the menu by consensus. Normally, they're pretty good at consensus building (as it's a pretty important skill in a family of eight) but when it came to food they just sort of stared at each other hungrily. We decided to have them take turns being in charge. Accountability, task delegation, planning - all good skills to develop.

The Princessa's turn was first. She did a great job, to a point. She decided she wanted to make a variation on Havoc's stuffed shells by making them with white sauce instead of red sauce. She gave me a shopping list two days before (part of the requirements), she wrote out what each brother was going to do (although they then got together and swapped jobs), and she cooked supper. I stayed out of the kitchen entirely (also part of the requirements.) In addition to being out of the kitchen, I was out of it in general due to my amnesia horseradish. I was not watching the clock. Mayhem (the skinniest and always the hungriest) came in to my room around 7:15 and asked if they could eat supper. I told him the Princessa was in charge and if she wasn't done making dinner then he just had to wait. He told me that dinner was done - it had been sitting on the counter for 20 minutes. Where was the Ninja Princessa you ask (as did I)? She had gone back upstairs to her room to listen to music and read her book. I asked her why she hadn't served supper and she said she was waiting for me. I asked her how I was supposed to know dinner was done if she didn't tell me. She said, "I don't know." I asked her why she didn't call everyone (including me) to supper. She said, "I don't know." There is a bizarre lapse in teenage cognition. Not only that but the table wasn't set, the salad she had planned wasn't fixed, and the pasta dish was cold by the time it made it to the table - an hour later than our normal time. The Ninja Princessa had nothing to offer about her deviation from our well-established dinner routine other than, "I don't know." Bet talked me out of my tree. She was exactly right to remind me that these are precisely the challenges we want the kids to face and figure out on their own.

It's Chaos' turn tonight. It was supposed to be Havoc's next but Chaos started mouthing off about the whole process and got his turn bumped up. To say that Chaos is not quite on board with this system would be an understatement. I told him on Monday night that he needed to have a grocery list to me by Tuesday if he wanted me to get anything. I reminded him on Tuesday. Yesterday when I asked him what his menu was (and mentioned it now needed to be able to be made from ingredients on hand already since he hadn't given me a list), he told me that his plan was to make ramen noodles with alfredo sauce. If "bleck!" is the first word to come to your mind, then you are not alone. Bug thinks it sounds great, but both the Princessa and Havoc made faces of complete disdain. Bet has magically got work she has to do and won't be home. Linus is home but has just had a work call that has pretty much ruined his appetite (as if he had an appetite for ramen alfredo to begin with). Mayhem is planning ahead. He's called dibs on the leftover pizza in the fridge. I'm trying to stay out of the kitchen - but Chaos sounds pretty bossy from in here.

A conversation topic that is sure to come up at supper tonight? What is working and what is not working with this new supper plan. Am I a bad mother if I admit that I am looking forward to Havoc's turn? The dinner bell has just sounded. Pray for me.
Peace.

On Parties And Parenting

We had a fantastic housewarming party last Saturday. Our dear friends C is for Coffee, Salsa Man and their two kids made the drive out. Bet's mom and Karl (a troll boy) also came for the weekend (uh, separately - in case that wasn't apparent. It would be terribly odd to think of them showing up together. Karl is 6 ft 8?9?11?! - a red headed, former rugby-playing giant of a (bisexual) man and Louise is a 5'2" smart yet scrappy, gum chewing grandma also known as Ya-Ya.) Anyway, I forget how many people we'd invited to the party, but I think about 75 showed up. Food, friends, crazy loud conversation (especially from the corner of our kitchen now known as Mojito Bend) all warmed the house. Havoc had chosen to make a special appetizer for the party. He'd listed out all the ingredients the week before, made most of it the night before, and had it perfectly displayed at the head of the food table the day of. I wish I could show you a picture of his scrumptious cheddar cheese, white wine, pecan encrusted cheese ball - but I didn't take a picture of it before the party. And it was gone before I knew it. I did have C is for Coffee take a picture of the plate - scraped bare with a few forlorn crackers abandoned and adrift. Havoc was pretty darn proud of that empty plate! I personally loved that our closest friends helped us hang shelves and art work mere hours before the party. Their touch, their mark, their laughter - it's still here even though they had to leave. I think that's what a house warming is all about. (That, and Dude, if you ever need some mums, have a housewarming party! Seriously, we have more mums now than we know what to do with and they're gorgeous!)

The rest of this week has been by turns fabulous and irritating. Parenting teens is more of an emotional roller coaster than I thought possible. I thought the infant stage (with the new mom hormones, the lack of sleep, and the baby changing every day) would be the most volatile. I mean, I knew teenagers themselves were volatile and challenging but I guess I expected the process of parenting them to be an unremitting struggle - a constant slogging. It's not. It is up and down and all over the place. We've got good grades and smiling faces. We've got a bit of slyness, a nudging of the boundaries, and a wholesale trample of the rules followed by, "Wuh? What did I do?" We've got restriction and recrimination. We've got hilarity at family dinner and full participation in family movie night. We've got treat wheedling and homework frustration. We've got a first break up for the second child to date. He's ok. Not quite broken hearted. Maybe a bit confused. Apparently it was a mutual break up for no reason. Sometimes that's the way it happens. We've got a kid scratching the word "Justis" into his arm. (Clearly, we've got spelling issues too.) Decoration by Sharpie is one thing, decoration by sharp object a whole other thing. We've got a call in to the therapist. ("Oh hey, Dr. Smith - you missed something here!") We've got hugs and tears, beautiful school pictures and kids who are even more beautiful in real life. We've got memories of our own teen struggles overlapping our understanding of what our kids are thinking, doing, and saying. In short, I think we've got the usual quota of joy and terror. I could use a little less terror, but hey!
Peace.
And speaking of peace!! How about that kick ass committee in Stockholm awarding Al Gore (and the global warming group) the Nobel Peace Prize for all of their work?!! I think it is awesome and far sighted and much deserved. We have the movie "An Inconvenient Truth". We're watching it on Family Fun Night next week.
More Peace.

Hally Podder

All four of the Princessa's guests arrived within three minutes of each other. That, in and of itself, was amazing. More impressive was the geometric progression of the decibel level. Even at that, I think we were spared slightly as their voices screeched beyond the range of human hearing and into bat-intercept-only frequencies. Mayhem was horrified. (You'd think he at least would have been prepared since he's the one in school all day with them.) He looked at me and said his ears were bleeding. Then he nattered on about the signs of impending apocalypse. "The darkness approaches! What's that I hear (with my bleeding eardrums)? The sound of locusts?" I took pity on him and took him to the dance early. (He had a fabulous time but right now I'm all about the Princessa so you'll just have to content yourselves with that cameo appearance in today's post.) Duncan met the girls and immediately declared that he would take Chaos and Bug to the game store. They were gone in under five minutes which is impressive speed for a mini herd who as individuals take about 15 minutes to get out the door. As far as kids go, that left only Havoc and his buddy Brandon exposed to the deafening giggles of the Harry Potter fan club. The little guys are smart as well as cute. They ate their pizza and scooted upstairs to build a "Lego community." I'm tempted to say we heard nary a peep from them - but how could we have over the noise the girls were making?! They might have been peeping away and we would never have known. With everyone thus arranged and Linus out of town, it was just Bet and I on the front lines.

I remember being 12. I have distinct memories of my father covering his ears and leaving the room when I had friends over. I thought he was weird. Now? I have sympathy for him. Somewhere in the last couple of decades my ears have lost the ability to interpret piercing shrieks as something pleasant. Bet and I did discover that putting a couple of walls and a door or two between us and the girls baffled the sound to bearable levels. Actually, by some trick of the acoustics, we were able to distinguish their words better from two rooms away. It reminded me of Harry's finally being able to understand the golden egg's clue when he opened it underwater. Then again we had Harry Potter on the brain. As would you, had you been around these girls. It is ASTOUNDING how much HP they can pack into one evening. There was not a moment free of HP. They sang songs (and chants and epic poems) - each about some facet of the Harry Potter universe. Bet could not stop asking me, "WHERE do they learn this stuff?" To say the girls "watched" the Harry Potter movies might be mislabeling what they were doing. They played scenes, replayed scenes, skipped to another part, switched disks, jumped to special features, went back to the original movie, had a shouting match analyzing certain lines, dissected each character's appearance, flung spells at each other and at the people on screen, etc. It would not have been a pleasant viewing experience for the less than thoroughly indoctrinated. One of the girls brought a pirated copy of one of the movies from China. They played that one with the English subtitles on just to laugh at the mistranslations. I had to laugh with them at the one scene I saw. I don't know nearly as much about HP as these girls, but I'm fairly certain that there is no scene where Ron's mom is discussing yogurt with Hally Podder.

It was a fun, but long night. I woke up several times to check on the girls. At 2:30 a.m., they had turned off the movies but were still up talking. (Duh. Slumber party.) I inadvertently interrupted a game of "Would You Rather." (Do boys play this game? One person poses the question, "Would you rather kiss soandso or whositwhatsit?" and everyone has to state their preference. No fair saying something like, "Would you rather kiss Mr. Bean or Daniel Craig?" The choice can either be between awful and repulsive or handsome and charming. In my day you got extra points if you could make the first names the same, e.g. Tom Cruise or Tom Selleck, Sean Connery or Sean Penn.) As I shut the door behind me, I heard one of the girls say, "Ok, I've got one. Would you rather kiss Dobby or Goyle?" Bwa ha ha.

Moving to a new state is such a leap of faith (or a crap shoot - take your pick.) It could be the best thing you've ever done or it could be disastrous. My kids are resilient in so many ways, but of course I've worried about their adjusting. My worries on that score are fading. I love that my sweet, smart, goofy kids are attracting sweet, smart, goofy friends. I love that they're having fun and fitting in. If my daughter starts kissing house elves, we'll reassess, but until then - I'm thinking we're on the "best thing ever" end of the scale.
Peace.

It's Gettin' Hot In Here

Hotness Story #1:
The Princessa has made a bunch of new friends. The only problem? They all think Mayhem is "hot." It TOTALLY squicks the Princessa out. Mayhem thinks it's hilarious. All of last week the running gag in the family was, "Is it hot in here? Oh it's Mayhem." He rolled with it and dished it back saying things like, "Don't touch that pan. It's hot like me. Oh yeah." Middle school is such an interesting time.

Hotness Story #2:
In an encounter with a totally different kind of hotness - Havoc got a chance to tour a real, working restaurant kitchen. We'd gone to the mall to sign him up for Cub Scouts and we passed this great kitchen store. We ducked in to gaze admiringly at all the cool utensils and pans. We were about to leave when in walked a man in a chef's jacket (Chef Benjamin, according to the elegant embroidery on his chest) speaking in French to a man in a suit. They began comparing glassware. Havoc's eyes were THIS BIG. "Mama, that's the first chef I've ever seen who wasn't animated." The chef caught Havoc's stare and came over to speak with us. I explained that Havoc wanted to grow up to be a chef and this was the first time he'd seen a real chef in person. Chef Benjamin said, "And I am French. A real French chef." Havoc said he'd just started studying French that week and offered a tentative, "Bonjour." Chef Benjamin smiled and quickly spoke to the man in the suit, who we learned was named Alex. Alex looked at his watch and nodded yes. Chef Benjamin bent down and asked Havoc if he wanted to take a tour of a real kitchen. Havoc's smile could not possibly have gotten bigger as he said he'd LOVE to. Alex took us down the way to a gorgeous, exotic fusion restaurant. We saw the sushi kitchen and the experimental kitchen where the chef was developing his new recipe for tiramisu. We met the dishwasher (=the heart of the kitchen) and the pastry chef who was making expresso cookies in a mixer that looked just like our Kitchen Aid would if it had been raised in Chernobyl. We met the sous chef and saw the pizza ovens. Havoc was following Monsieur Alex's directions exactly - stepping carefully and keeping his hands tucked close. We got near the grills and it was hot. Monsieur Alex told Havoc that he should be careful but not fearful of the heat. If he really wanted to be a chef then he needed to know that kitchens were HOT. "If you can't take the heat, stay out of the kitchen." Havoc assured Mr. Alex that he could take it! It was such an unexpected treat. They were so nice and encouraging - offering my child a once-in-a-lifetime experience that he will remember forever (no matter what he ends up becoming professionally.) Havoc could not wait to get home and tell everyone about it. When I kissed him goodnight, he told me his face hurt from smiling so hard. He also said that he really believed that one day he'd be a chef. "Mama, I have this feeling inside me that is so big. I can't imagine it ever going away." I told him that if that fire continued to burn in his belly then he'd be one of the most wonderful chefs ever. I also told him that if his fire burned dimmer later and he didn't want to be a chef professionally - he could continue to enjoy cooking for himself and friends for his whole life. It was a rewarding and wonderful skill and I'd support him at every level. He hugged my neck and said, "Cool, mom. But I just know this is what I'll do." And he fell asleep smiling.
We're writing a thank you note to Chef Benjamin and Mr. Alex this afternoon. I'm going to have to let Havoc do it mostly by himself because I cannot for the life of me figure out how to convey his smile in words - but I bet Havoc can do it.
Peace.

We Needed That Extra Dash Of Stress

One week from today we will be in transit - halfway between homes. There is so much to do that I get the screaming heebie jeebies if I think about it too long. I want to navigate this transition as smoothly as possible for my kids. We are having fun with many aspects of it all, but there are distinctly hard parts to it. On top of that there has been additional emotional drama. One example is that the Ninja Princessa was forbidden to open a myspace account - clearly, expressly, and with lots of explanations as to why. In ongoing revelations coming from her mother's home in Colorado, we have been finding out that not only did she try to sneak in getting permission to open one there with her mother's blessing, but after her mom presented a united front with SH and said no - the Princessa did it anyway. Only now it turns out that she didn't just do it - that she opened her account in April and lied about it directly on several occasions. Not only that but upon reading email that has been sent to her - there is at least one troll that has sent her pornographic email. I suppose she gets credit for deleting that email - but it is disturbing that when she was faced with evidence of exactly what we'd told her we did not want her exposed to - that she covered that up and proceeded with her own agenda. It is not surprising in the sense that it is completely normal for kids her age and in her situation to push these boundaries, to try to sneak this type of thing past, and to learn about the consequences of lying. Just because it's normal does not make it easy. Adolescents experiment with a vast array of risky behavior. As parents, we expect it. We prepare as much as we can - forearming our kids with information and empowering them to make the best choices. We keep ourselves informed and on alert to detect what we can - knowing we'll miss something, knowing there are dangers that we can't even imagine, knowing that in some ways it's a total crapshoot. Somewhere out there - there is a kid who has done things a thousand times worse than anything our kid will ever think about and that kid (against ridiculous odds) is fine - maybe even stronger for having walked that particular road. Somewhere out there is also a kid who did nothing - or did something very minorly risky and that kid is dead or traumatized for life. Parenting is about staying open to information without becoming paralyzed by frightful possibilities. Somehow we frantically try to shepherd our kids through the Scylla and Charybdis of adolescence.

And for some of us - we are trying to do that while being attacked, evaluated, judged, and found lacking in our parental abilities. I am having some fun with my mom and my ex - can you tell?

Peace.

A Month Of Sundays

Happy Fathers' Day to all the dads out there! Here at Lilymania, we are going to play catch up while the man of the house snoozes. (He and Bug - his first born and also the only child at home this weekend- stayed up until the wee sma's playing PS3, so it may be quite some time before they awaken.) The plan was to make the Dad Of The House a lovely breakfast - until we realized we'd packed up the kitchen and the oven won't be fixed until Wednesday! Plan B: IHOP.

News:
Who knew that selling the house would be the EASY part??
Turns out that buying a house is an adventure in crazymaking. We have been looking at houses, online and in person, since April. We have seen dozens of houses. We have learned a LOT about each other - and about our realtor. We found a house that would work. We went to see it three times. Sweet Hubby left with the kids to get back home. I stayed with VBGF to help close up her classroom and get her grades in. Robbie the Realtor said she had two more houses for us to see. The plan was that unless either of these two houses trumped it, we'd put an offer on the one we'd seen three times. Wouldn't you know that both houses trumped it? There was a clear top choice though. This house - oh man! We loved it. LOVED it. Naturally, the list price was 30K above our upper limit. Here is where the fun came in.

We spent the better part of the week (=Tuesday morning through Friday afternoon) "negotiating". The first step was to offer 20K less than list price. They countered by going down 2K and wanting both triple the earnest money we offered and triple the cost of repairs contingency. That was weird. They wanted a LOT of our money and they wanted us locked into the contract even if there were repairs of ten grand. Danger Will Robinson! The house was built in '56. We said back - meet you half way on the price but that's ALL the earnest money we've got and we'll up the cost of repair contingency a little bit (NOT to ten grand!) Mind you - these people are in Chicago, Sweet Hubby is back in TN, and the realtors, VBGF, and I are all in NC. Getting answers and signatures and initials is not the smoothest of processes. We went back and forth and back and forth - and finally arrived at a verbal deal. Yay! Minor celebration ensued. Robbie the Realtor told us we couldn't really celebrate until it was all signed. We waited for the signatures. Signatures were not forthcoming. Major sadness and anger ensued. Turns out the young couple could not "afford" to sell their house at the price they verbally agreed to. Note - they were already getting a discounted commission rate. Their realtor said she was in shock and this had never happened to her and she was so sorry - but she could only relay what her clients said. We thought about it. We all decided that this was the right house for us. We raised our offer up to their original counter offer. They still couldn't afford it. Our realtor was irked and said that the sellers were not acting in good faith during the whole of this process. Their realtor agreed! What to do? Walk away? Make an offer on one of the two other houses that would work (just barely) for our family? We decided that we'd make one final effort and offer the list price. [There were other weird contingencies this couple tried to throw in, but all of those details are too tiresome to go into. At one point it truly seemed like the sellers were not hip with the whole concept of what selling entails (i.e. releasing ownership of the house for an agreed upon price).] At long last, however, all documents were signed and faxed (we made them sign first before we wasted time faxing again) and celebration recommenced. (Robbie the Realtor told us we could celebrate 75% - that there was still the home inspection to get through.)

More of the story -
We saw that the house had been listed in April for 90K more than the list price for which we bought it. Somewhere near the end of all the negotiating, our realtor turns up the fact that before that it was listed for 75K more with a different realty company. I guess we should feel like we got a deal, but really? I think they were smoking crack if they thought they'd get their original list price. Yes they did updates (oh, wait until you see the pictures in a minute!) - but the house is still 50 years old and has very little curb appeal (according to R the R.) We did get a deal because we got a house we love, that suits us all, that is close (walking distance on sidewalks!) to the schools and public library and community center, AND that we could afford (even if it's a bit of a stretch!) Keep your fingers crossed for us until July 18th!!

Here are a few of the previously promised pictures!
First, Mayhem and the Princessa as they tested for their black belts. This picture was taken at the beginning - about a half an hour into the three and a half hour test. They are both still so nervous they look like they're about to hurl. The posters on the walls behind them are lists and lists of the techniques they are being tested on.

I have fantastic movies of their freestyle sparring match and grappling match. They are not usually paired in class because they are siblings so it was surprising to have them fight each other during the belt test. The sensei was both amused and impressed. The Princessa didn't slow down one bit when Mayhem sent her earrings flying and Mayhem didn't let up even when the Princessa snagged and ripped out the ties on his gi (you can see them dangling in the pictures.) This is a picture of their final test element: to hold their belts straight armed, out in frontof them (not below their chins or above their foreheads) for 3 full (and very long) minutes.
Here is their first formal bowing out as black belts. Yay!!!!


Next - Chaos is 15! We celebrate with decorated birthday cookies instead of cakes and everyone gets to pick their own theme. Chaos likes skulls.

He also likes the two new holes in his head. One of his closest friends (Nate) got Chaos a scholarship to go to camp. Nate is super excited that Chaos gets to go. Me? Not so much. It's a Baptist summer camp - away for a week. I talked to the youth minister and explained that my son was Catholic and I did NOT want to send him if he was going to be told that his baptism didn't count or that he wasn't a real Christian. The nice youth minister said that didn't happen. ("Since when?!!!" was my sister's response to that.) We'll see. I've explained to Chaos that by choosing to go, he has accepted responsibility to modify his behavior, dress, and attitude to fit within the boundaries of a much more conservative group. He says he still wants to go. I think it will be good for him to follow through on a choice like that, but I'm also a little worried about it. (Can you tell?)

And finally - I have to show off my new kitchen (squeals with delight!) Look at the skylight! Do you see the coolie, cool purple, lavender, and lilac glass mosaic above the range? Have you ever seen an island that big? It's either 9 or 10 feet long!
This is the other end of the kitchen. The black is chalkboard. Painted right onto the wall. Ok - it's weird and not really well done - but it's the only thing I don't just love, love, love about the kitchen. Havoc, however, thinks it's perfect! He can't wait to write out his menus.
Give you one guess as to what he now wants to be when he grows up!
Peace (and keep those fingers crossed for us, please!)

Field Trip To Hell

I was just handed a permission slip to sign so my sixth graders can go on a field trip. Where are they going? The local Baptist McChurch. To be innoculated against the evils of alcohol and tobacco. I'm not overly excited about signing this form.

Don't get me wrong - I don't want my kids smoking or drinking. We talk with the kids about it a lot - the dangers, the realities, the health risks, the social consequences, the legal issues - we talk about it all. And by "we" I don't just mean Sweet Hubby and me. "We" means our whole village: other parents, closest friends, aunts and uncles, grandmothers, mothers of peers, karate instructors and wrestling coaches. I would add the "Teen Living" teacher to that list of village voices except that sex, drugs, and personal hygeine seem to have garnered all the glory in her class. Smoking and drinking have gotten short shrift. I want the kids to hear the "Don't drink" and "Don't smoke" messages at school. I don't know that I think a field trip to a church known for its "purity programs" counts (in my book).

I don't believe that pressuring kids to sign pledge cards in front of hundreds of their peers is the answer. I don't think that portraying kids who smoke and drink as villains is particularly honest or effective. I despise the pious crap that this type of program pushes. And yet...

The school was pre-emptively defensive about the location - praising the church for offering to host the event in order to accomodate such a large group. Um, this is just for the sixth grade - and I know for a fact that they can all fit into one of several venues right at school! Isn't that what places like the cafeteria and gym and auditorium are for? Anyway... I'm going to sign this form and let Mayhem and the Princessa go. I think I'll plan on some deprogramming time afterwards.

***I wrote this post last week and never posted it! Today is the day. I talked to them about what I expected today to be like (pressure, scary information) and what they expected today to be like (pizza, no classes or homework). They both assured me that they weren't interested in smoking or drinking. Mayhem added the ominous word "yet" to his statement which almost launched me into a round of lecture until he pointed his finger at me and said, "Gotcha." Both he and the Princessa thought it was very funny. Then they reassured me that they both felt very centered in themselves and they just wanted to go have fun. OK. I guess. ***

A Blogging Fly By

I've been out of range for a week and then out of energy on the comeback. Last week VBGF's mother had her other breast removed and I went up to help VBGF take care of her dad and then to help her mother settle back in at home. I have a long list of posts I want to write but I'll have to start another day as I'm going back out of town tomorrow. Today I'll relay some recent conversations with the Ninja Princessa:

NP: Dad, I don't have any books to read. (Since we give the kids chores to fill their time if they ever say they're bored, this is as close to saying "I'm bored" as possible. Sometimes this gambit pays off in a trip to the bookstore and sometimes it just gets you pulled down the hall into our library but it almost never gets you in "trouble".)
Sweet Hubby:(starts pulling books off the library shelves and handing them to her) You'll LOVE this one.
NP: Is this a good book or is it one of yours?
I can only imagine the mock frowny face my husband pulled on her because then I heard: Ok, ok. I'll read it.
(If only my dad had handed me Marion Zimmer Bradley's Hawkmistress! I got handed Blake's Songs of Innocence and Milton's Paradise Lost. Bleck.)

The Princessa was on a roll because later I was sorting pictures and came across one from my junior year in high school. She grabbed it out of my hand and exclaimed, "Wow! You used to be pretty!" I think she heard herself because she started babbling things like, "I mean you're still sorta pretty," and "Gosh, that's not what I meant either. Forget it." I responded with "beep, beep, beep - CRASH!" but then I chuckled and gave her a hug. She had the grace to blush and hug me back. She's still a tween. I love her to pieces but I'm dreading 14 in a big way.
Peace.

The Ninja Princessa Diaries

Guess who won the "Celebrate Literacy" award for the middle school?


This is the Princessa's workspace. Butterflies and Buddha, laptop and mini lava lamp.

Early morning Princessa. (My favorite time of the day with her.)

Who does the family turn to for hair straightening expertise? The Princessa, of course. (Chaos' cool points would probably go down the tube if his friends knew how much he primped for school - so shhhhhhhh!) And since we're on the subject of hair - arrrrrrgh - I HATE today's middle school hair fashions. See the Princessa's? She wears plenty of headbands and bandanas - but always with most of her hair pulled forward and in her face. And they straighten it stick straight and flat. The boys too! Apparently the more hair plastered to the front of your face the better. I am such a square. I want to see my children's eyes and sweet faces!

Changing of the guard: the Princessa announced she is no longer obsessed with Jeremy Sumpter. She still likes the Peter Pan story but gone are the days when she quizzes the family on Jeremy Sumpter facts. Even the birthday cards she made for Jeremy have been taken down from her door. She has settled on a new obsession. His name is Josh. She's pretty sweet in her dramatic enthusiasm for boys she doesn't know. I hope this stage lasts a while. Obsessing about safely unattainable celebrity boys is a whole different ball game from noticing the boys who sit next to her in social studies class. Though now that I think about it, she's probably safe for the rest of middle school if the current hair trends continue. They all resemble Cousin It. How can they start relationships? They can't even see each other through the many layers of interceding bangs.