Brain Dump and a Video

I've been avoiding the blog lately, for several reasons.

1. I've got some heavy stuff on my mind (heavy, like spiritual seeking and meaning-of-life questions, nothing bad), and to write about these thing require time and brain power, both of which I am sadly lacking lately.

2. 24 hours is quite simply not enough time in a day. Bad planning on someone's part. I refuse to bow down to the dominant paradigm and am therefore declaring that my own personal days are now 32 hours long.

3. Greg, in another bit of bad planning, was born in the month of June. That means his birthday and Father's Day are less than two weeks apart. He does such a good job planning my birthday and Mother's Day weekends (which are conveniently placed five months apart) that the pressure is tremendous.

4. One of the things he wants for his birthday is for our hours and hours of videotape to be transferred to DVD. I had a video service do this with about half of our videos a few years ago, and it cost an arm and a leg and part of a torso. So this time I'm doing it myself which takes FOREVER. You have to transfer it from the video camera to the computer in real time, then you gotta put in menu markers, then it takes twice as long to burn the DVD. Forget editing. You took 30 hours of video of people opening Christmas gifts, you get 30 hours of people opening Christmas gifts.

Occasionally, though, we find a treasure, which is the reason we videotape all those hours to begin with, isn't it? A. was just three and he thought he could read. He's reading David Sedaris' "Me Talk Pretty One Day" here, but he turns it into something about Disneyland and "Sowf Amewica" which is amazing, as he'll tell you. Then he finds info on how to sell your child. Unfortunately, he was making it up and Irving Yalom doesn't actually write anything on that subject.



(I wish the quality was better, but I haven't figured out how to do that. It's amazing I'm even able to get this up here, frankly).

Guilt

Ah, Mommy guilt. I'm not talking about the kind where you aren't feeding your child all-organic produce or actually try him on solids before one year, or don't breastfeed every hour, or park him in front of Sesame Street every day because goddamn it you have to get SOMETHING done.

I'm talking about the guilt because my beautiful 4-year-old has been away from me for almost 3 days and how much do I miss him? Not at all.

It's been so EASY this weekend. A. pretty much does what I ask him to, when I ask him to do it. I haven't snapped at him once in the last 3 days because he doesn't have to jockey for position, defend himself against his younger brother's attacks, nor is he tempted to annoy his younger brother and make him scream. He has no audience for his poop and pee jokes, so I haven't heard them.

There's been remarkably little whining. I'm burning all the old home movies to DVD for G's birthday, and what do I hear in the background of almost all the videos? Benjamin whining.

Don't get me wrong - he's a beautiful star in my life. But, he's also very, very social and wants attention 24/7. G. and I joke that the perfect present for him would be a full-time aide.

I'll pick him up tomorrow and kiss his dimples and get some snuggle time when we get home, and I'll love on him as much as I can. But I'm afraid that tomorrow between 5pm and 8pm, when the boys are at their sibling-rivalry worst, I'll wish he was back in OR.

No pithy conclusions, no insight. Just guilt.

Directions

So the husband and the four-year-old are safely in Oregon, while A. and I stick around here. A. had saved up his money for a large pack of Pokemon cards at this one tiny store in San Francisco that neither he nor G. could remember the name of, but it's purple and has Pikachu painted on the side.

G. said, "It's on not the main cable car line, but one of the other ones, and it's about a block from the cable car museum, and it's on the left elbow."

Usually his directions involve the word "hypotenuse." The "left elbow" is a new one. Being the super-internet-sleuth that I am, I found it on Yelp. And, we found parking right across the street:

And, we walked around and found another store that actually had a rolling Pokemon backpack. You don't see those every day, so I consented to buy it as long as A. promises to use it for the next 5 years.


Then it was off to Pier 39 because I was determined to show A. the sea lions despite his not really caring about them. Once he got there, he liked them:

He kindly shared his pretzel with the pigeons, making sure the smaller birds got their share:

And we found parking right across the street again! It only cost me $3 at the meter, while cars were lined up down 3 blocks to enter the parking garage and pay $20. It was our lucky day.

Adios, Buckaroo

G. is taking Ben to Portland for a quick 3-day visit with the grandparents. I'm really looking forward to time alone with A., but I'm also gonna miss the little rascal. And his dad.

Diminutive Mom Has Great Mother's Day

I am giving up iGoogle as my home page because I put local headlines on the top center of the page. The headline for the last week has been Diminutive Teacher Earns Mountains of Respect. Besides being an unbelievably bad headline, it pisses me off because this diminutive teacher is "a few inches over five feet." That makes her a few inches taller than me. Anyone refers to me as a diminutive anything is getting my diminutive foot in their ass. I realize that's not iGoogle's fault, but it annoys me.

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Mother's Day Riddles by A.:
Q: What is the gudust thing in the world?
A: Mom.

Q: What is the diferens betewing Mom and Dad?
A: Mom is much preteer.

Q: Whats a Moms faverit thing?
A: Her kids.

Then on the inside of the card he wrote an old A. blessing: "May the sun shine brite on your Mothers Day."

I can't show you pictures because I forgot to put the damn CF card back in the camera after uploading all the pics from the day before. So we bought a disposable camera, and I had to figure out how people develop film these days. Our drug store still does it, but the counter has shrunk from about 1/4 of the store in the old days to now a tiny tiny little shelf. And it takes 5 days.

The boys made me a Tokepi pancake, then set out little easter eggs with coupons inside for me to find. I got coupons for free hugs and kisses (I guess they won't charge me anymore), free cheez sticks (meaning A. will go get one for me out of the refrigerator if I desire one, but I still have to buy them in the first place), and one for a free dime.

Then they blindfolded me and G drove all around in crazy loops to disorient me, until I didn't know where we were headed. He took off the blindfold when I guessed our destination correctly - the California Academy of Sciences. Very cool, a bit crowded, but overall a very cool place.

Happy Mother's Day, Early (now with photo!)

Ben in the car on the way home from school: Mama, I have a surprise for you. But I'm not going to show you what it is.

Me: Great. I can't wait to see it.

Ben: Teacher said we can't never never show it to our mommies until Mother's Day.

Me: OK.

Ben: But I'm going to take it out of the bag. Don't look!

Me: OK, I won't. I'm driving.

Ben: I'm going to keep it behind my back. Don't look behind my back.

Me: OK. I won't.

Ben: I can't put it behind my back in the car seat, so I'm going to hold it here. Do you know it has candy in it and buttons on it?

Me: Don't tell me.

Ben: But did you know that?

Me: No, but now I do. I thought it was a surprise.

Ben: OK. How 'bout you forget I told you that?

Me: OK.

Ben: Do you want to see it?

Me: No, why don't you keep it for Mother's Day?

Ben: But I want to show you now.

(Keep in mind, this is maybe a 7-minute drive home)

Me: Well, I'm driving now. Didn't you want to keep it for Mother's Day?

Ben: Yeah. Yeah, it's a surprise and I'm not going to show you.

Me: Terrific.

Ben: But what day is Mother's Day?

Me: Sunday.

Ben: Is today Sunday?

Me: No, today's Thursday.

Ben: Weeellll, I'm going to show you on Thursday.

Me: Don't you want to keep it for Mother's Day, like Teacher said?

Ben: No, I just want to show you today.

Me: OK, how 'bout we wait until we get home?

Ben: OK. I'll hide it until we get in the house.

Me: OK. Here we are. (pulling into the driveway)

Ben: HERE IT IS! LOOK! IT HAS BUTTONS! AND CANDY!

Me: OK, Ben, let me get your seatbelt off.

It was a little Altoids tin covered with felt and buttons and had two miniature Hershey's bar inside, which Ben thought were rightfully his, but I ate them before he had a chance to steal them.

The Beginning of the End

For a few days now, it seems like every freakin' building's air/heat system has been wonky. First it's hot, then it's cold, then they turned off the air, then they blasted the air conditioning.....Then I realized that if it's happening in every building I am in, including my own home and the supermarket and the car, it's probably me. FABULOUS. I'm starting to get hot flashes?!

Last night, after medicating my monthly migraine and trying to fall asleep, I got out of bed, tore off my long-sleeve t-shirt, and dug through my drawers for my extra-light pajamas that I wear during heat waves. Then I tore the covers off the bed and wrapped the sheet around half of me (I can't sleep just with nothing - have to have at least a sheet, no matter how hot it is). The sweats aren't as bad as they were in the weeks after I gave birth, when G. christened me "The Swamp Thing," but they're still annoying.

Then this morning, everything was going along fine, but all of a sudden the boys turned into small devil-monsters who were put on this earth to torment me. They were always such needy, whiny little leeches and why did I want children anyway? I had to bite my tongue because what wanted to come out of my mouth was not intended for children under 30 years old.

Then we're driving to school, "Feels Like Home" comes on the CD, and I start singing along, Benjamin starts in with the chorus and we're singing together, "Feels like home to me...feels like I'm all the way back where I belong," and I begin sobbing. It's just so...sweet and tender and I love my little boys sooooo much.

WTH???? I'm only 43 and if this is peri-menopause, just shoot me now because there is no way I (or my family) will survive the next 10 years. Aaaaauuuugggghhh!

KaBOOM!

So when A. was a tiny one, and I was desperate for new places to go out with him besides the grocery store and the gas station, I trolled our local playgrounds. I even pulled out an old-school map from our glove compartment to try to find new ones.

"You know what would be a good idea?" I thought, "If someone would create a website rating all the local playgrounds for moms." I was just starting this blog and thought I might do something like that for our local moms. I live in a very diverse (read: lower SES than the rest of the Bay Area) community, and although there were resources for moms in the wealthier communities, we local moms valued clean, safe playgrounds, too. And we have them, but they're not really listed anywhere and some are tucked into residential areas and hard to find.

"I'll take my camera and take pictures and post a review every time we go to the park!" I thought.

Yeah. So that didn't happen. It's still a good idea, and someone else has had a similar idea and run with it. KaBOOM! is hoping to host reviews and maps for playground all over the U.S. , Canada and Mexico (it may reach farther, those are the countries I tried). Their overarching goal is to create playspaces within walking distance to every child in America.

They've got a campaign to register 100,000 parks in 100 days. Another cool thing is that you can create a group for your cause, and each park that you register (with a photo) earns you $$ for your cause, plus enters you to win some prizes like a Kindle. Win-win-win.

I'm really going to take pics and post pictures now that someone else has set it up for me.

Oxygen Etiquette

So at some point on Earth Day, A. learned that each tree creates enough oxygen for 8 people. He went outside for a while, then informed us that we can't have more than 48 people in our house at once.

Because we only have 6 trees and it would be rude to invite people over and then not have enough oxygen for them.

I think I'm raising Dwight Schrute.

You Know You Want to See My Gallstone

Look at that sucker
Originally uploaded by ColleenAG

Check out that sucker!

There were more stones, but the surgeon told me he saved the prettiest one for me to view. I didn't get to keep it. It looked just like a large piece of dry dog food. G. was impressed, which was worth it.

Random Thoughts on Gallbladder Surgery

1. I found it rather disconcerting that everyone who talked to me asked, "So, what are we doing for you today?" Like a hairdresser. Shouldn't it be written down somewhere?

2. The surgeon came and said hello in the pre-op room, and then took out a marker and wrote "YES" on my belly. I'm glad he approved.

3. I told the anesthesiologist that I had a wicked caffeine-withdrawal headache before the surgery and she ordered up some Fentanyl. Fentanyl's like 80 times stronger than morphine. This chick wasn't playing around. No wonder it's been about 36 hours and I'm still feeling the effects of the anesthesia. I think she gave me enough for an elephant.

4. My contribution to Earth Day was to recycle the ginormous stack of papers from the pharmacy listing all the possible side effects, etc. in LARGE TYPE of the Metamucil they sent me home with.

5. We took pics, but they're on my sister's camera. You can see the prettiest gallstone for yourself. They wouldn't let me keep it, which made me wonder....at exactly what point did it stop being my property?

Goodbye, Gallbladder

So tomorrow I'm going into the hospital and when I leave, I plan to be gallbladder-free. They can do the whole thing in less than a day and I should be home tomorrow afternoon, amazingly enough.

It's practically a procedure rather than a surgery, but don't suggest that to my surgeon because he gets very bent out of shape and all of a sudden it becomes "Major Abdominal Surgery," the likes of which I can't appreciate because I've only had two C-sections, which I guess would be considered "Minor Abdominal Ripping-Open and Gutting of the Uterus." At first he was all, "It's no big deal, easy recovery," until I suggested I knew about such things because of my C-Sections, and then he told me I would feel like I'd been hit by a truck. But in a kind of way where I could go home the same day, I guess.

So I'll have some time on my hands in the next week. I'll let y'all know how it goes.

10-10-10

New book review on my self-help, thrifty living, life hacking blog: 10-10-10.

Hemochromatosis

So today I found out I've got the genetic mutation for hemochromatosis. It's a mutation on the sixth chromosome, and I don't have any details like, which mutation is it (there are a couple, and one is worse than the other), is it on both chromosomes, etc., but I do know I have it so I gave the vampires at the hospital more blood today (good thing I'm not afraid of needles) so they can run more liver tests to see if I've got iron overload. This thing basically makes your organs absorb too much iron, which damages them over time.

One of the possible symptoms listed on this site is "Setting off metal detectors for no apparent reason." That sounds kind of fun ("No, seriously! Nothing but cotton!"). I didn't pay much attention to the magnetic science portion of high school, so I don't know if I could also use my forehead as a portable magnetic message board, but I'm hoping so.



And, no wonder I always find myself pointing north! (ba dum dum)

It can also turn your skin bronze, which is kind of cool because I could throw out my bottles of sunless tanning lotion.

But really, I'm not going to get any of the cool side effects. I probably don't have the organ damage yet, and fortunately, I probably won't get it because the treatment is really easy and effective - bloodletting. No kidding. Women are usually not diagnosed until menopause because you know, they bleed monthly. Men don't, so they get diagnosed earlier, if at all. People with hemochromotosis sometimes have to give blood several times a week until they get their iron saturation levels down. Bring on the leeches!

The biggest bummer about this disease is that I may very well have passed it on to my boys, and they're at risk for organ damage, cancer (apparently cancer loves iron - who knew?) and heart disease if they have the mutation and aren't successful at keeping their iron levels down. That part bothers me.

Grateful

The fact that I had 2 C-sections is a minor blip on my parenting screen. It's not what I'd hoped for, and certainly not what was in our elaborate and doula-inspired birth plan. But, you know, the boys came out fine and it does seem that they weren't going to come out any other way. Still, I find I have a hard time reading accounts of home births. They sound so wonderful - peaceful and powerful. Maybe it's jealousy, maybe it's hope dashed since that kind of birth will never be among my experiences. Then I found this video on F-Bomb's blog, and all is better now. I've never before actually been grateful for a C-section. (Warning: the forceps segment will make you squirm).

Heaven Has Another Angel

So, I've followed The Spohrs spohradically (hah! See what I did there? BTW, the server keeps crashing due to all the traffic, but they're working on it) after BlogHer08. Their lovely, spirited, Matt Lauer-loving daughter Madeline died unexpectedly a few days ago. She was planning to roll alongside her parents at this year's March of Dimes walk. They're still collecting donations, and if you support saving more premature babies with beautiful eyes, I hope you'll consider donating in Maddie's memory.

Keep Looking Up

At the Grocery Outlet today, Ben and I found kites for just $3. He'd seen the Spiderman one and wanted it, but what clinched the deal was finding a Pokemon kite in the display for A. It's not easy to find Pokemon-related stuff, given that the series kind of hit its peak 10 years ago.

So, it was a nice windy afternoon and we took the kites out to the backyard.

Oh. My. God. I had totally forgotten how frustrating it is to get a kite up in the air. I tried to remember why I'd thought this would be fun.

I was cursing under my breath, yanking the string away from the kids, and was just about to give up when the Pokemon kite caught the breeze and sailed up about 20 feet.

"Look! Look! Look! It's flying!" I handed the string to A., told him to hang on tight....and watched the kite sail over the roof, and disappear from view with the string trailing after it. The kite fell, and string holder settled near the chimney.

"Why did you let go???" I yelled.

"It just pulled out of my hand. How are we gonna get it?" he asked.

"Beats me. Go see if it made it to the ground on the other side." Fuck me. I finally got the damn thing up and he let go.

Meanwhile, waiting for his turn, Ben completely tied himself up in the string from his kite. So I untangle him, pick up the Spiderman kite, and run from this side of the yard to that side of the yard. Again. Again. Throw the damn thing up. Run. Stop. Set it on the lawn. Run. Stop.

Me: "Ben, get off the string."

Ben: "Can I fly it now? Can I fly it now?"

Me: "Ben, do I look like I'm flying it? Does it look like it's up in the air?"

Ben: "Yes. Can I fly it now?"

Heavy sigh. "Once it's up you can fly it." Shouldn't G. be here to take over by now?

A couple more laps, and the breeze finally lifted it way up in the air. I quickly unwound the string and watched it climb at least 4 stories high.

Ben: "Ha HAHAHA!"

I could hear A. yell from the courtyard that he could see it flying from where he was. It soared and dipped like I was doing tricks but I wasn't. I kept the string taut, and handed it to Ben, "HANG ON TIGHT!"

"Ha ha ha ha HA HA!" Ben shouted. It was glorious. The long red streamer just floated behind the spiderman face. The wind was perfect. I started singing the kite flying song from You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown. Oh yeah. That's why we try to get kites up.*




*It seemed a lot more profound at the time.

More Funny Stuff From the Kids

Gah, I'm such a cliche. But you know, the reason I started this blog was so that I wouldn't forget what happened when my kids were little. Because, God knows, we can't depend on my brain to remember all by itself. That was true even before my little brain injury.

Benjamin is a little done with A. getting all the book-making glory, so he made his own book. He copied A. by tracing states, coloring them in and adding text (dictated to G, who dutifully transcribed Ben's thoughts). Then he drew a cover and had us staple it together. My favorite is Nevada. It's also very typical Ben, as he is one of the most loving kids in the world.

Cover: I was walking to the museum of science... (that's him with the green hair. A. and I are in the back)

Page 1: South Dakota is on the world that you can't see, but I wish I could go to this continent but I'm too old.

Page 2: Virginia: I love this continent because I love it so much because it's in Pokemon world but it's not too far.
Nevada: Now let's go to the next continent. (Sorry, Nevada)

Florida: I have never in the world seen this continent on too far!

Nebraska: I love all of the Kansas! (sorry, Nebraska)

Kansas: I love this continent so much but you can't go on the sun because it's too hot!




He LOVES his book and asks us to read it over and over again, while he dissolves into giggles. It's pretty cute.

Uh Oh, I Think God's Trapped Between My Curtain and My Window

I realize I've been totally coasting this blog on Ways My 6-Year-Old Entertains Me. But he's been making it so easy. Especially when he comes home with stuff like this, from sunday school. I think the lesson was that everyone has a different idea/picture of God. So the kids were supposed to draw what God looks like to them.

Here's A's:

Look Out, Arizona

A's latest get-rich-quick scheme is to create U.S. atlases to sell. He traces one state shape on each page, colors it and then adds a fact about the state. I'm not entirely sure where he's getting his facts.