unashamed weirdness

i've been working on incorporating leftover bits of fabric into free-form-ish quilt blocks.  i take the scraps from the bags i'm working on, and sew them together, with various strips and scraps and pretty bits of other things.  it's becoming this giant quilt that i am seriously in love with. the improvisational, wonky, random nature of it really appeals to me. 

i've always felt kind of artistic and happiest when working on a project of some sort. the past few years i've worked really hard on a few things i did not feel confident in: color theory and sewing proficiency.  color theory is such a strange thing. you think to yourself, "for shit's sake, color is color and as kids we know what we like and what matches."  but do you really? what about color values? what about things that don't match? playing with colors is quite possibly the best way to work out whatever color theory means to you. sewing is the best way i know of, currently, for me to work on color.  work with color. to just sew things together; sometimes with great forethought, sometimes with none.  to see what happens and what i like.  what i've learned is this: i really do like red. i really, really, truly, 100% love the color red. it resonates with me. i want to use it in everything. in fact, did you know i only sew with red thread? if you can see it through the white fabric i'm using, even better. i've been doing that for years, and i realized why i do it and why i will never stop.  red is just my thing. like cocktails in mugs and wearing too many black t-shirts, red is my color. red is my spirit animal.

currently i am working on my stock and plotting out craft fairs and shows i want to do this summer and fall.  this means i am going to need to buy a phone that is nicer and can go online, so i can take credit cards and debit cards when i'm out.  i am not, and have never really been, into making pinprick a full time gig. i love it too much to put that kind of pressure on it. i also love sales and schmoozing and selling stuff i make. it gives me space to create for myself, and funding for other projects. it also gives me an ego boost.  i like it when people like what i make. 

i've had to do some tough-love, not-the-fun-parent shit the past few weeks and let me tell you, it gets old fast. i understand now why my parents hated grounding me. it's such a pain in the ass to enforce that shit.  lately i've also really missed having both kids at home. i know the boychik is doing his thing and becoming a mensch and all that, but i wish he were here. the worst part about step-parenting are the years you lose.  i sometimes feel like i'm playing catch-up, trying to make up for lost time.  i know they don't think of it that way, so i should chill out.  (but you know, i'm kind of neurotic. go figure.) 

knee jerk response

this is my senior homecoming, 1994 that dress was $7

 ever since the boychik got me all worked up into a frenzy, he's been an absolute doll.  aaaargh.  D thinks that maybe he's picking fights with me so that i won't ask him "real" questions about him moving out or his new girlfriend, or whatever.  i told him that i'm going to choose to think that he's pushing my buttons because i'm his parent and he loves me.  "kids do that, right?" i asked, "it's like a thing they do to see where your boundaries are?" in short; he's treating me like a parent, so i'm going to focus on that.

the girlchild got asked to homecoming.  i don't know why i wasn't prepared for it; she's really, honestly a lovely girl. getting taller and prettier by the day, much to her father's chagrin.  no, that's not quite true. we're both digging watching her grow into her face, and agree that she's more than just pretty, she's also very down-to-earth and funny and kind.  i should have been anticipating that she would be asked, because she's not a 14 year old girl who is afraid of boys.  having spent most of her life with her brother and dad only, she understands boys. there's no mystery, no angst or anxiety about hanging out with them.  she tends to bowl all the boys over with her mix of adorableness and fart jokes.

she got into the truck friday afternoon with a pink rose.  i asked her where she got it and she told me she'd been asked.  i won't lie, i squealed a little.  she said, "yeah, i guess i have to go now." i said, "no you don't, you go if you want to, not because you think you have to. don't do something just because a boy wants you to." she gave me a sidelong glance and giggled and said, "you know i want to go, i'm just giving you a hard time."  i told her that i was excited for her, but still full of feminist agenda.  "i know, amanda."  

we went dress shopping this weekend, and for all my feminist agenda, i had a few knee jerk reactions to the dresses she tried on.  too short! too tight! oh my god, you have a butt hiding under there! no, no, something more shapeless!  none of these things i said out loud, however.  i don't want her to be ashamed or feel weird about her body, and i don't think it's her job to be all prim and proper so boys won't get ideas, as i could put her in a burlap sack and they'd get ideas.  she ended up with a stretchy black dress with one strap, no sequins ("they itch!"), and when she puts it on and pulls her hair up it's kind of audrey hepburn.  all long neck, legs and arms.  she looks 16 when she puts it on, not 24, thank god.  it gave D a heart attack, but who can blame him?  that's his baby.

i'm glad she wanted to go dress shopping with me, though. she made me a little crazy at first, but i realized later it's because we both hate malls (THANK GOD) and she was anxious because she didn't know what size she was, what to expect of the dresses, etc.  we talked about the boy she's going with (he runs cross country with her, he's a sophomore, "really nice"), who else was going, what people have been saying about the dance.  she's obviously excited. i always had fun at proms and homecomings, so i'm excited for her too.  i told her i'd pull out some old photos so i could show her my ridiculous dresses. like the one above; bought for $7 at the thrift store, all velvet and 1970's.  that was my friend jonathan, who i probably should have made out with, but i didn't think he liked me.  we had a great time that night; jonathan was totally into wearing something 1970s (down to the buster browns!), we went to the city for the day and then stayed up all night. i think i got home at 6 in the morning.  we had a lot of fun.  i hope she does too (but i'll probably ask her to come home sooner).

in which i rage against the teenaged machine

aaaargh, i'm all frothy and full of rage right now because the boychik and i were talking about his job and how they might go on strike and he was like, "whatever, if they do that i'll just see if my boss will bump me up and i'll take so-and-so's job."

i was stunned.  i said, "seriously? you'd be a scab?" and he shrugged and repeated his "whatever." "you know, these are people you work with. when the strike is over, they get to come back to work. then they'll work with you and know you're a scab who doesn't give a shit about them."  again, nothing but a shrug. 

i kind of lost my cool.  which i guess happens, but the end of our conversation was me saying, "it must be nice to not give a shit about anyone else. you're an asshole." 

i hate this part of youth. this i-know-everything attitude and the idea that the very earth revolves around you.  he's worried about not working for a few days, and he's got over $5,000.00 in the bank.  he's moving into a house where he'll have to spend $200 a month in rent.  he's got fucking amazing health insurance because I PAY FOR IT.  he doesn't do chores, he doesn't tell us where he is, he spend as much as he can criticizing us and eating our food, and yet...i'm torn between knowing i'll miss the fucker when he moves and glad i won't have to hear him skulking around. 

he really just had no idea or regard for anyone else.  he's a happy white kid who's just charming enough to be dangerous, and handsome to boot.  why should he give a fuck about anyone else? the middle aged women he works with who have families and debt and no one else to look out for them.  the grown-up working at a grocery store to take care of their kids, who want a fair wage and health insurance that isn't shit.  i want to cry when i think about his blase attitude.  yeah, his mom is a fucking mess who bailed, and there were parts of his childhood that were less than ideal, but the world doesn't owe him anything. 

i know i shouldn't let it bother me, and i'm sure my therapist would have some tips for not thinking about this, or some words of wisdom about letting him learn his own hard lessons, but i feel so terrible.  this is a kid i'm at least somewhat responsible for, that i love, that i'm unleashing into the world with a chip on his shoulder and an alarming lack of care for anyone but himself. he's a selfish jerk. and i'm an asshole for pointing it out.  

this one is kind of long. sorry.

for those of you that don't know this, my kid's bio-mom isn't in the picture.  not because of anything heinous i did, not because of anything heinous anyone did, as far as i can tell.  she was young when the boychik was born, about 17, and only just 21 when the girlchild was born.  my husband was older (probably too much older, he'll be the first to admit), although neither of them were exactly grown-ups when the kids came along.  about 12 years ago, she decided that she didn't want to be a mom or girlfriend anymore, and she and D split up.  for a bit they worked on co-parenting, but that fell apart quickly.  there were drugs and parties involved, but it's probably not entirely fair to blame the falling apart on that alone.  i think, more than anything, that she resented having so much responsibility, and wanted a life of her own instead.  when i was 21, i had very little responsibility.  i had a part time cat, a share of the rent to pay, some homework to do, and many parties to attend and bars to go to.  it was wonderful, and i'm glad i had that time for myself.  unlike the bio-mom, though, at 17 i had also graduated from high school, came from an intact family and wasn't in a big rush to be an adult.  when she was 17, she was a high school dropout who had essentially run away from home and gotten pregnant for the first time.  she's only a year older than me, but our lives are pretty different. 

for ten years she was completely absent from the kid's lives. no child support, no birthday cards, no calls on the phone.  she practically dropped off the face of the earth.  the boychik took it harder than the girlchild, because he remembered her, had grown up with her.  the girlchild remembers nothing of her parents being together.  two years ago, right about the time D and i were getting ready to get married, she friended the kids on facebook.  i guess if you're going to parent long-distance, with as little effort as possible, hitting the "like" button is as good a place as any to start.  her sudden reappearance caused shock waves both big and small, and we all had to adjust to knowing she was around.  unlike a lot of stepmoms, i had never had to deal with the mother of my kids.  there wasn't a lot of memory about her either to compete with, no "wrong" way of making mac and cheese, no struggle to assert that i was actually doing parenting, or to fit in and/or complement a style already in place.  the kids already had a parent who was a bit outside the norm, and they made a place for me as easily as you would put down another plate at dinner.  i've always understood how lucky i am to have had an easy, good relationship with them.  it didn't take me long to fall as in love with them as i did their dad, and to be frank, marriage to me meant primarily solidifying our family.  i always referred to it as "our" wedding, because it was about the four of us.

at the back of my mind, though, has always been the fear that she's going to want more of a relationship with the kids.  that facebook isn't going to be enough, that soon the phone calls will start, and the awkward visits will commence.  (after two years of nothing but random facebook messages between her and both kids, this anxiety should be lessened, but anxiety not being related to logic or reality, is still just as strong to me.)  being an official stepmom is great and all, but as much as i love the kids, as much as i consider them my own, she's the wildcard.  bio-moms have precedence, you know?  bio-moms are THE important mom, stepmom's are never "real" moms, and there's this prevailing idea that the love and connection a woman feels for the children she's carried is the most noble, enduring, deepest bond two people can have.  which means that even though she walked out, she loves them more than i do or could, and secretly pines for them to return to her loving bosom.  or something.   

the point of all this is this: a year ago the bio-mom had another baby.  she told the girlchild about it last week.  she's never told the boychik, but he figured it out a few months ago after a lot of photos of her with a baby showed up on facebook.  D figured it out doing a google search a few months ago as well. ( i was the last to know.)  my initial emotions were all about the kids; how did they feel, were they worried, was it strange for them, did they want to meet their new brother, would this make the bio mom more involved?  the girlchild at first was shocked and excited, and wanted to know about the baby and meet him.  she's since settled into a more cautious interest, probably in solidarity to her brother.  the boychik said he didn't care, that he doesn't know or have a relationship with his bio-mom, and that he doesn't know the baby and just because they share a parent doesn't mean they're siblings to him.  "it takes more than some shared DNA to make us family, you know?"  i admitted that it freaked me out, but that my experience with my mom is pretty different than theirs is as well.  if my mom had done something like this, i'd be heartbroken, but i grew up with my mom.  i know her.  they don't.  i was also furious at the casual way she brought it up with the girlchild, and couldn't believe that this was how she chose to act. 

after all that, after the kids had gone to bed, i was swept by other, more selfish emotions.  anger that she would treat the kids like mere acquaintances who hadn't needed or been important enough to be informed she was pregnant, or that they had a new brother.  more upsetting to me was the overwhelming grief i felt.  marrying D meant no bio-kids of my own.  i had a choice; i could have him and the kids, or a theoretical baby with someone else.  i knew him and the kids, i loved them, and i don't regret my decision; but i was a woman who thought she would have children in a more conventional sense.  which is hilarious when you consider i wasn't so sure about marriage.  knowing that she can just have babies when she feels like it, that she gets to be THE MOM no matter what, that she was reveling in new motherhood while i get to deal with parent-teacher conferences and arguing over whose turn it is to clean the bathroom and all the tedious parts of parenthood that sitcoms are written of, made me break down and weep.  it's so easy for her to get to be a mom, and no matter what i do, i'll always have come later, and i'll never have that easy assurance that i'm a parent.  i never get to say, "just do it because i'm your mom and i asked you to." 

and while all that's true, it's also all bullshit too.  family isn't just DNA and inborn emotional connections.  you don't parent your kids because you have to, obviously.  our biological imperative doesn't automatically make us good people.  just because you make a person, or are related to a person doesn't mean you have anything in common with them or even like them.  our veneration of mothers isn't always honest or accurate.  i might not be a real mom, but i am a real parent, i do have children that i love and would do anything for.  unlike their bio-mom, i can't imagine severing ties with them, for any reason.  if D and i were break up tomorrow, i'd still feel like the kids were mine, i'd still want to live with them and care for them, and cajole them into taking out the trash.  i miss them when i'm away for just a day.  i can be sad and cry about the kids i didn't have, i think that's fair. i can be upset that she can make babies when she wants to, i have that right.  more than that, though, i have a family right here and right now, who i love and am grateful for.  my theoretical bio-baby would have been cute and chubby and had a ridiculous name, but i wouldn't trade the kids i have for the kid that might have been.  i hope their new brother has a mom that sticks around, and i hope someday the kids have some sort of relationship with him.  i think he'll like them. 

new year ahoy!

truth be told, 2012 was pretty hunky dory.  we're ending it on a high note, as well; december was wonderful, we all had a good christmas, and we're looking forward to a new year's eve at home. 

as usual, the plan is nibbles, followed by lounging.  this year in addition to all the little bites i make, i'd like to include some traditional good luck foods.  long noodles, for long life, little dumplings shaped like purses, for good fortune, a galette des roi, maybe even some hoppin john.  new year's eve is the first holiday i ever spent with my little family, so while i've always been fond of it, i'm kind of crazy about it now.  i like planning out the meal, i like that we stay home, it's a goofy, no-pressure holiday for us. 

christmas this year was pretty amazing.  D and i bought a new computer, and the screen is huge, it has a ridiculous amount of memory, and it's not in the living room, which is nice.  i need to clean up my laptop and maybe get a new operating system for it so we can use it for the next few years as well.  then! for our christmas present, the boychik got us a new tv and blue ray player! the amazing thing about that, besides the awesomeness of having a kid who buys electronics, is that because of his discount at work (best buy) and the fact that both were "open boxes" he got it all for under $100.  the blue ray player is also wireless, so in addition to being able to watch new, fancy, hi-def movies, we can stream netflix right on the tv. 

it's been so long since we've been able to cozy on the couch and watch a movie or tv show.  i had no idea how much i missed it!  the days after christmas found us all relaxing, watching dvds we'd gotten as presents, and lots and lots of tv shows on netflix.  it was a very thoughtful gift, and i can understand now why he was so excited to give it to us.  what a boy! 

this weekend i might try to clean up the holiday debris and do something crafty.  i might just also watch a lot of tv and drink tons of coffee.  we'll see!

four years

i meant to write this post yesterday, because four years ago yesterday, i had what would end up being the best, and last, date of my life.

i know, i know, i'm ridiculous, but seriously, the date i had with D four years ago was awesome.  he made chili verde, we drank wine, we both wore stripey shirts, and we made out in the kitchen.  don't try to argue with the math with that.  wine + porky goodness + kissing in the kitchen = grow up and get married. true story.

today, four years ago, i met my kids.  they sat on one couch while D and i sat on another, and they played their DS's and gave us sidelong glances, and there was a lot of giggling and happy times. i had literally thought for all of five minutes about being step-parent before that, and while i was not sure i could do it, i knew that day how much i liked them, and that if i already felt that way, then we'd probably be okay.

meeting them right before the holidays was a good thing. i remember that first christmas, after i'd met them, and mom making fun of me because my chin was all pink from making out (!), and making furtive calls outside to tell him how much i missed him, and how much fun we had on new year's eve.  to me, my beginning of my family will always be tied up in happy holiday memories, with us goofing in the kitchen and buying each other presents and having that doofy, newly in love feeling.  shy and happy and spending a lot of time together.  i never forget how lucky i am, how happy i am, how at home i feel with these three amazing people who made me part of their family.  

is it weird

that i am super duper extra excited that my nephew got an email address?  he sent me a note today with a million emoticons and i almost died it was so cute.  of course, i wrote him right back. 

then i made another mushroom ornament, only with this years felting technique. 

when i'm old and die and the kids go through my ornaments (and other stuff) will they be like, "jesus, amanda, what's with all the tentacles, skulls and shrooms? why was our xmas tree always so weird?"  wherever i go after this, i'm pretty sure i'll chuckle at that.  i hope they argue over who gets the gloomy bear. 

my favorite halloween costume

a few years ago, when i was working at the grocery store and dating a certain man who lived on the ocean, i went to work as a bearded lady. 

it was a silly costume; not even a full beard but more of pretty goatee with braids, some fake tattoos, and a tiara.  i won a $15 gift card for 2nd place, and was feeling pretty good about myself.

what makes that costume so special though, is this: while the guy i was dating thought the costume was so-so, and didn't get why i thought it was so rad, the man i would end up marrying and his kids came into work that day and were the only people who laughed with me and told me how great my outfit was.  i remember seeing them walk in the front doors, turn toward the deli, and instantly light up with grins.  it sounds so insane, but they looked so happy to see me, so pleased, and i felt so glad that they got the joke. 

D and i would go out on our first date over a year after that day, but that still remains my favorite halloween costume.  the moral of my story is, even if you don't realize it, you might just run into your family in the strangest place, and have a funny story for later.

always the bad guy

the hard thing about having a kid in school that isn't doing well, regardless of how smart or dumb they are, or how unfair the teachers are, or whatever, is this: you end up spending a lot of time being the bad guy.  taking away fun toys, cutting off access the internet/tv/video games, having serious talks basically to yourself because no way is a teenager going to talk to you about what is bothering them, and conferring with your partner about "what should be done."  it is such a fucking drag.  it's like the terrible parts of being in school with none of the fun note passing and gossiping in the bathrooms. 

i distinctly remember being a difficult student, and not understanding why my parents were so frustrated and irate.  they were my grades, what's the big whoop?  which is why when your parents give you that smirk and say, "just wait," you'll recall it later and think, "well, shit."  because they were right. 

i'm officially small and petty

the other day the girlchild did a "quiz" on facebook that told her what she would look like in 20 years.  it told her she would be all about doing drugs, and look terrible and wrinkly.  i pointed out that there was no way she was going to be wrinkly, and as far as the drug thing went, NO WAY.  then her mom, who only has contact to her through FACEBOOK, left a comment about how in 20 years the girlchild will be 34 and at 34 she had "8-pack abs" and everyone tells her all the time that she only looks 25.  that's great!  she's fit and looks young, but you know what? i'm raising her kids.  i'm glad she's so hot, but some of us who are actually living with kids, making dinners and working and paying for health insurance, helping out with homework, buying school clothes, don't have time for 8-pack abs.  i'm not just fussy because i'm a chubby stepmom, but because this woman gets to pop in with her two cents anytime she feels like it because she's the "real" mom and OF COURSE her life is more glamorous than mine! she's single and unencumbered.  i'm so glad her job is a natural workout, it would be nice if that job didn't just make her thin, but also paid for some child support.

she's also missing out on awesome times with her own kids.  let's hope those awesome abs give hugs and thank her for being around. 

i suggest

the fastest and easiest way to piss off a teenager is to disparage the chore they just did.  yes, they readily admit they did a terrible job, but they did it, didn't they?  doesn't doing it badly, and half-assed count for anything?! sheesh.

boy to mensch

i'm the first to admit i didn't grow the boychik in my body (i'm too young for that, i swear!) but i have been lucky enough to be his stepmom officially for a year now, and even luckier to have been his parent for a few years longer.  he graduated from high school tonight! i'm the stepmom to a grown ass man now! although to be honest, i hope he stays my boychik a while longer. 

look at that good looking family!

real quick

the teen ennui in this house is thick enough to choke a fucking horse.  it's not even funny, regardless of the joke i just made.  part of it makes me angry and confrontational, and i say things like, "how can you say you don't care about anything? you really, honestly, just don't give a fuck?! how is that a thing?"  the math that goes on in an adolescent head is like the new math, it's like quantum physics, it's truly dealing with imaginary numbers.  when i try to calm down, to speak rationally, to not just ground everything that walks past me with a stink eye (you're next lulu), stop and think "you know, i might just not get it, and that might be okay," it works for like five minutes and then i'm all rant-y and rave-y and back to wringing my hands clean off.  i swing back and forth, feeling alternately annoyed and then terrified that i'll push one of them to suicide and that will really teach me a lesson, a lesson in suffering, a class i will take for the rest of my life and whose final exam i will fail every time.  shit, i bet the ennui is contagious and now i have it.  i feel overwrought and fraught and in a funk. i love these kids, i really do, and i don't love them because i'm "supposed" to: i just do it because i feel it and i have moments when i wish i didn't give a shit because that would be so much easier.  if i were their bio-mom i could use the argument that i'm the mom, so of course i love them, no questions asked; but not only am i the step, but they have a bio-mom who shoots that theory in the foot.  one of them actually said to me, "you're here because you have to be here," and i was like, "nuh, uh, no fucking way. i'm here because i chose it." i picked this.  this is the work that i want to do, even when it sucks. i signed up for this team. if you had to stick around then their mom would live in state, would do more than answer random facebook questions about them, would make them the occasional dinner or at least order out, she would give a single solitary fuck and she wouldn't have bailed because parties sounded like more fun.  she made her choice the same way i made mine, and while those choices are obviously based on different things, even when i get this worked and want to do some drinking or yell or throw my hands up in disgust, i do my best to just try to let them be the people they are.  all i can do is tell them how i feel, i can't convince them with the power of my mind. i can hope they listen to me, and trust me, and don't do anything too stupid.  i am doing the best i can, and i'm sure i can do better, so i'll try that too.

seriously, though, nihilism was invented by teenagers.  you can't convince me otherwise.    

ring, ring, banana phone!

i keep waking up before my alarm goes off, which is kind of scary. does this mean even more adulthood is around the corner? am i "growing up" yet again?  i think it's just that we're entering that beautiful, short lived season here in the northwest where it's not pitch black early in the morning.  whew. i'm glad it's not more responsibility calling, because i think i have enough, thank you.

i broke down the other day and bought the girlchild a pay-as-you-go cell phone.  i don't want her to be old enough to have one, but when i was her age i just had to keep a quarter on me so i could call home if i needed a ride.  it's impossible to find payphones now!  i also don't want to admit it, but her "all my friend's have one" argument was fairly valid.  she borrows their phones when she needs to make a call now, but i realized that could be tricky if she were calling, say, because she was having a miserable time and wanted to get out of it.  that's really why i bought her the phone.  i remember being that age, and having some friends who were a bit more adventurous, or older, or who just made different choices than i did and having moments when what i really wanted was for my mom to come and get me.  that part of early teenhood is a weird place to navigate; on one hand you want to be independent and do your own thing, on the other, freddy krueger still freaks you out and OMG no one told me they would be showing this movie at the sleepover!  i figure if we have the one cell phone (another super basic pay-as-you-go), and she had one then if things got shady she could just send us a quick message and we can come and get her.  it's her own, personal, opt-out button.  i told her as much.  not that she cared, she was just thrilled i got her the unlimited texting.

birds and bees and all that jazz

i feel like as far as being a step-parent goes, i do an okay job. the kids and i get along, i take the parenting that i do seriously, we are a happy little family.  i have days, though, where i think "i'm totally supposed to be here" because i realize that i have skills that my husband doesn't. 

case in point; yesterday i came home from work and while D and i were in the kitchen fixing after-work chelada's, he very quietly told me the boychik and his girlfriend had been home alone for a big chunk of the day and that when he came home she was putting her socks on.  he put those words in italics, i swear.  he got even quieter, and said, "jesus christ, i hope they don't make a baby."  i asked him if he'd talked to the boychik about that, if the kid knew how he felt.  now i think D is a boss dad; he never once wavered in his dedication to the kids, he doesn't bitch about the years he spent being a single dad, he didn't jut give this kids to his folks when their mom bailed.  however, when i asked him if he'd talked to the boychik about sex stuff, he positively blanched.  i told him, "wait here. just give me five minutes. i'll be back." 

i'm not going to say those were the best five minutes of my life, or that i was smooth and suave and we had a hallmark moment, but thanks to all the sex-ed teaching i did in college i got through it mostly on auto-pilot.  if there is one thing i know, it's where to get free condoms and birth control.  so we talk. i try to explain that more than anything, i just want him to know he has options and that he's got his whole life ahead of him, and that birth control isn't just his girlfriend's responsibility.  at the same time, i don't really know if they are doing it, or if they've talked about it, or what, but if they are, they need the information and if they aren't, they're going to need it someday, right?  the boychik was cool about the whole thing, aside from some serious blushing he actually said out loud to me, "i know you just want what's best for me."  which is what it all boils down to.  i told him about the laws in WA about plan B, i told him that not having a baby is so much cheaper than having a baby, i told him that as excited as i will be when he has a kid and i get to be a grandma/nana/gangy, i'm hoping that doesn't happen for a while.  we both agreed that babies are awesome, but not right now. 

then i asked my husband to take me out to dinner, and he hugged me and told me i was his hero.  i don't think this is the last talk about s-e-x we'll have, but i think it sets a good precedent.  i also think i grew three new grey hairs last night. 

family farms!

this weekend was JAM PACKED with action and adventure, via the annual skagit valley festival of family farms. we went about two years ago and had an awesome time, so this year i took my stepdaughter and a friend of hers out for not one, but TWO days of farm madness.  we had a great time; we saw a million different animals, saw how different farms work, ate elephant ears and apples right off the tree (what, you've never seen an elephant ear tree? sucks to be you.), took a million photos and used a lot of hand sanitizer.  good times. 

the best part for me, beside seeing cute, baby animals, was listening to the girls in the backseat as i drove them around.  pre-teen girls are funny and sweet and completely wacko.  they come up with games that make no sense, they giggle at everything, they clam up if they know you're listening, but if you keep quiet and let them sit together in the back seat while you chauffeur them around you get to hear a lot. what i came away with was the certain knowledge that both kids had a fun time, and that this is something they'll remember fondly when they get older.

to add to my pot of good-mom-points, i also made them pumpkin, chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast this morning.  ahem.  you can send my medal right to the house, i don't need a fancy ceremony.  photos, as usual, are over here.   

lounge-o-rama

today the kids and i rented not one or two movies, we rented four.  i bought some flavored coffee creamer, which i never do (i like my coffee black) but today i was feeling like settling in for some serious film watching and knitting.  sweet coffee seemed appropriate.  i also bought a giant bag of chocolate chips, so tonight i can make cookies.  we had giant hamburgers for lunch at five guys, and at this very moment, both of the kids are sitting quietly with me in the living room, playing games and waiting for our lounging afternoon to begin. 

last night D and i went out and had drinks and saw friends, and we were talking about all the cool things the kids do, and how we think they'll have happy memories of us when they get older.  we don't know for sure, of course, but how can a memory of us all singing the same song and making up new verses in the kitchen be anything but a happy memory?  

back to school time

the kids started the new school year yesterday! they both had good days, which was nice to hear. neither one of them was whiny when they got up either, and i think even if no one would ever admit it, they were glad to go back.  this is the boychik's last year, meaning in a month or so we can look forward to getting fleeced by josten's.  i'm not sure why it because de riguer to buy a graduation gown; you wear them once for a few hours and then feel guilty throwing them away a few years later.  what happened to renting? did too many high school seniors get crabs? i'm going to try buying one on ebay. does that make me a cheap stepmother? probably.

the girlchild is in the 7th grade now, and i admit being more than nervous about the upcoming year.  last year her grades were terrible, her attitude was even worse, and we spent many miserable hours and months trying to figure out what was going on and what we could do about it.  this year she's enrolled in a program that is supposed to help her study skills and organization, as well as provide a little extra math and reading help.  when it comes to the girl and her grades, i admit that D and i approach it from very different points of view.  i think that's part of the reason i'm not looking forward to this year.  she's a bright kid, but if things are hard, she just gives up. she is also under the assumption that she's already "good" at math, and doesn't need to try anymore, and to be honest, she's not that good at math.  she doesn't consistently fail it, but she never aces it either.  she has a hard time finishing what she starts, keeping track of assignments, and on more than one occasion she's just flat-out lied to us about what she had to do/when she had to do it/what was going on.  i'm definitely more of the disciplinarian, which is a shitty role, but considering one kid does well and never needs much in the way of supervision when it comes to school, i guess it evens out.  my plan this year is to make things kind of hard to start with.  instead of taking away stuff like tv and computer time and going outside when things go bad, from the very start she's going to have to prove that she can do her schoolwork first.  meaning, no computer time until after 7:30, and if she wants half an hour of facebook and shit, she's got to give me half an hour of reading.  if she wants to be allowed to watch any tv (for us, netflix) or a movie, she's going to have to have all her homework done as well as her chores.  she has to tell us what is due and when every day, via her assignment log.  i know it sounds harsh, and it is, but last year she brought home a report card with three D's and 2 F's and didn't see anything wrong with it.  the way i see it, if things start out kind of gulag-y, then they can only get better, right? i don't necessarily want to punish her for last years grades, but i don't want her thinking she can skate until she gets caught again, either. 

just thinking about all of this makes my blood pressure go up.  i'm going to try to be optimistic, i swear, but if this year is like last year, i don't know what i'm going to do.  i'm not a very good tutor for her while sober, and this sort of thing makes me want a big old glass of boxed wine, and guess what? i'm worse at explaining fractions then.

lemon jelly

D likes dub, techno, whatever it is they call all those blippy poppy songs that kids high on E adore.  which isn't to say he wanders around the house in giant pants and blows a whistle when he gets excited, but he does like music that's a bit ambient and groovy.  the other night while looking at boat videos on youtube he stumbled upon a band that's new to all of us, lemon jelly.  specifically, he ran into this song, and was pretty excited to show it to us.  the past week has found us all singing it and goofing on it, changing the lyrics, looking up new songs and playing those too. 

the past two weeks have been like real summer break.  halcyon and warm, everyone in a good mood, playful and energetic.  it's a shame summer break ends always ends at this point; you spend a month getting things done, a month getting into a groove, and then right as you're actually having a fun time, it ends. part of me is ready for the kids to go back to school, part of me is going to miss the fist bumps and singing in the kitchen while making dinner.

we're brewing up our winter plans.  we'd like to build a canoe, which i know sounds crazy, but all of us are into it.  i want to build the hazelnut, the boys are into the prospector, and i think the girlchild thinks there is no way we'll get it done.  she does think building it will be fun, but doesn't think we've got the stamina to get it finished!  so far we've just looked at a lot of plans and talked about what to name the boat.  personally, i want to name it bollo, after the ape from the mighty boosh.  we're also unsure if we'll paint it red or blue.  or green.  these things are important!    

one week!

i've been married now for seven whole days.  i got asked a lot this week, "so do you feel different?"  the answer is, "yes."  it's hard to explain, but i don't feel like everything is just the same old, same old.  part of it is afterglow from all the lovey-dovey days leading up to and including the wedding, part of it is a generalized feeling of "wow."  i keep thinking to myself, "i got married!"  in getting married, that means everyone knows how much i love him, how much he loves me, and our intentions to be together for a long ass time. so it's not like i love him more, but more a sense that our families and friends are on board.  in a very general, overwhelming way, it feels really good to be married.  it's a subtle difference, but different anyway.  it's awesome.  i always felt like we were a good team before, but now i'm ready to buy us uniforms with our names embroidered on them.    

people were surprised to see me back at work this week, everyone thought i'd take some time off for moving but guess what?  i'm retarded and want to save that vacation time for the summer.  i have three day weekends and strong kids, so no taking time off for moving!  plus, i think next week i'll just rent a truck for a day and we can do it all at once.  whatever it costs will be worth it to not have to make a million trips.

i also cut off all my hair this week, downloaded and printed the million and two forms it takes to change your name, and sent out a billion thank you cards (i still have some left to do, of course).  overall, i think my first week of wedded bliss went well.  it's too early to tell, but i think i might be a kick-ass wife.  

also, here is the song we picked for our first dance. okay, our only dance. it's hard to dance when everyone wants to talk to you!