Friday, October 31, 2008

For Halloween I was a gay crane operator. I had a huge butt and leopard t-back underwear on it. I had a very hairy chest and armpit hair. Britt and the kids helped by dragging my shirt through the garden. I love it.
Every day one of these 6"5" guys I work with comes in and whines about something. But yesterday they took up a collection and repairs were made to my 1992 car and paid for by them.
You can't get any better than that.
Happy Halloween

baby got crack

I work with these guys

Sunday, October 19, 2008

neurological sub atomic warfare

Kale has declared war on my spine. It starts the second he wakes up. A sonic resonance designed to affect my nervous system like spikes driven slowly under the nail beds on all my fingers and toes at once. I could be more specific on the nature of the pain induced by the sounds he makes if I were capable of rational thought or speech during one of his fits. All I can think is "Please, make it stop".

There is no rationalizing with a 3 year old. He wakes up pissed off, or in pain, or in need of something, and he begins to make a noise like all the cats and dogs chained to hells gates have been presented with an ambulance, a fire truck, and intruders to chase.

I can NOT think, or breathe, or move fast enough to satisfy whatever monster inside this child creates the need to make this noise. And it is not just me either, his brother quiets, & his mother and I scramble to do his will immediately.

All the Chochate Nilt sippy cups on the planet align and form a perfect eclipse of happy Chochate Nilt rainbows and sippy cup fountains, and still that noise continues.

I strip the beds in the house and place all the pillows and blankets at the feet of the beast. Remove any and every potentially offensive object from his area, remote control every big screen and surround sound in the place until it is playing his favorite Sponge Bob episode, quiet every other noise in the house, and snap on every light ever created by man all at the speed of Sonic the Hedgehog on "super fast" so that the time I am tortured will be shorter, and still he makes that noise. Toys appear as if teleported by magic to make his royal highness stop, still it goes on. I have run down to his bedroom to find a plastic weed whacker and goggles in his bed because I believed that he would quit if he just had those toys back.

Luckily for me he only does it about 3 times a day. Most of the fits could be stopped if I could figure out how to intimidate him into being more scared of me than Goosebumps, or whatever he is shrill about at the moment.

Phoenix and he have been taking turns making that noise all weekend.

What good is 2 days off of work if you don't get to rest or recreate during them? Kale keeps me prisoner every morning with that noise so he won't have to walk in the cold to take Phoenix to school

Meanwhile his noise is doing permanent damage to my neurological system. When the torture is over I find myself laying down to attempt to recover. My limbs shake and my vision blurs with the tears of relief. By the time it is over, I am ready to sell him to passing gypsies.

Then he comes over and kisses me and tells me he loves me. I'm always scared during these times. The noise could come out if he perceives some wrong or problem in the universe he must shrilly lament.

You will be able to tell the doctors with absolute certainty what happened to me now at least.

Friday, October 10, 2008

What Halloween is all about

Scary things come in many sizes, shapes, and colors. I have compiled a list of the things we have done on this holiday which scared me the most, and all of them seem to center around children. Basically the scariest moments of my life have been my own fault because I looked away, lost concentration, believed in the goodness of the child, or just plain screwed up. Constant vigilance could have saved me many harrowing scares and screaming. Most of the time we are scared enough at Halloween by the costumes and movies to pay attention to weird and dangerous things. The normal things are much more dangerous.
Below are dire warnings which will keep you safe from ghoul's and gross consequences at Halloween.

So here it is my official NEVER DO on Halloween list:
#1 Never go anywhere in a car with children for longer than 2 hours.
cross country + kids + unlimited sugar - mobility = disaster
#2 Never let yourself be talked into the costume a pre-teenager wants.
11 year old + skimpy outfit + outdoors + boys = bigger disaster
#3 There truly is NO SUCH thing as a fool-proof contraceptive. (that one scared ya didn't it?)
#4 Never put me or Tobi in charge of which direction you go in any vehicle, no matter where or when.
Mom + one car + no clue where we are = lost half the night (see #1)
#5 There is not a limit on the # of pounds of icing and decorations any child can pile on pumpkin sugar cookies, do not try to compete with them at it, I have pictures.
kids + unlimited icing of varying colors + 5,000,000 sprinkles = hours of cleaning for mom
#6 You can keep trick or treating forever if you let the kids decide.
1 pillow case + Joshua + his best friend = 11:30pm & mom searching for them in the car (lost again)
#7 Never let a baby hold anything you think he or she can not swallow or hurt him or herself with or fit into his or her nose.
Tobi + beads + nose = emergency room visit
#8 Never leave the car, house, bathroom, (whatever) alone with a sugared up child for "just a second". Believe me it would be easier to just pack it all up and take it with you than clean it up or explain it to the police /doctor later.
see # 7
#9 Do not run through the house in the dark with a smoke machine on.
See #7 again
#10 Never move just before Halloween. Just put in a change of address and let the mail try to find you again. If you are crazed enough to want to move just box up everything in your house. Do not label any of the boxes with whats in them, just number them. Put all the boxes with an even number on them out on the curb and let the trick or treat-ers take them away forever. Now unpack the rest. Same results as moving, no truck involved.
moving + strangers in and out of the house all night = half your stuff gone