Thursday, January 31, 2008

Chase's Candy-Final Chapter

Okay, this is the last I will write about the stupid Halloween candy. Anyway, the neverending story of the candy, so Marc reads my posting and dimes me out to Chase. Well really bribes him. "You're busted dude, Mommy know's where that candy is. If you give me something good, not some beat piece you don't want, maybe I can talk her out of throwing it away." My poor baby Chase has to part with some of his precious candy. Then yesterday Chase comes up to me and whispers in my ear, "I re-hid it Mom, you'll never find it." Can you believe him? The nerve. He obviously isn't aware that I have found every Christmas present I have ever got throughout my entire life, but it's cool. Let him think that. Then when it's gone it will be a surprise for him. I just ignored it, thinking, fine, fine. So this morning I notice some Starburst wrappers and a lollipop stick on Marc's nighttable. I say, "I see you worked some more out of him." Marc, still sleeping, mumbles, "Um hmm. He hid it again." "Where is it?" I demand. Marc will not fess up because then his supplier will be out of junk and how will he get his fix? I leave him and go into Chase's room. Now every morning when I wake up Chase it is the same thing. He has his eyes closed and he puts one arm up for me to lie down with him and he hugs me. Really, some day, some girl is going to be really lucky. Anyway, we're snuggling and I say quietly, "Tell me where the candy is Chase, make it easy on yourself." He says, "No, you'll take it again and throw it away." "You can't be trusted though." I say. "Yes, I can." he says. Really? Okay. If you say so. So here I go, "You promise, only one piece a day? And you'll brush 3 times." "Yes." he said as he held up his pinkie for a pinkie promise. So see, I had to let him keep it, he pinkie promised me.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Traveling with Rachel

Okay, this is kind of an older story but I was telling it today over lunch to my friend Lisa and thought it might be nice to put on here seeing as the last I wrote about Rachel she came off with somewhat a bad rap and she is really funny and a great hair stylist and a fabulous entertaining traveling companion not to mention a wonderful friend. This is what happened, Rachel and I were going to San Francisco together. I was originally going by myself for yoga and Rachel was kind enough to come along and keep me company. What a good friend. So I meet her at the airport and she shows up with this cloth Barnes and Noble bag filled with hardback books. Big, huge hardback books. One of those astrology every day of the year books, some self help rubbish, a big brand new diet book and two others I can't remember what they were. So I see her walk in and I am completely flabbergasted. "What are you doing with all those big books?" I say. Rachel looks at me like she has no idea what I am talking about and says, "What? I didn't want to be bored on the plane." "Do you think we're going to China? Have you never heard of a paperback novel? And don't think I'm carrying that at all." She seems completely unfazed by lugging all them plus her big huge parka (when I told her it was going to be in the 70's in San Fran) her enormous furry boots and her big purse. Whatever. What do I care right? I care because you know at some point this is going to become my responsiblilty. So I just sigh and we head on our way. Rachel is not a complainer at all. I do have to babysit her stuff everytime she has to use the restroom or walk away from the gate but no big deal. She makes a friend on the plane that she tries to get to read one of her books, he was having none of it, in fact, he looked at it and said, "Uh, self help, no thanks." Guess who read the books? No one. Rachel didn't even open one, she did however have about 5 vodka tonics and go to "sleep" while I clutched the armrests through turbulence and made the nice grandmother next to me talk me in off the ledge. Good plan with those books huh?

So, skip to the end of our trip, we are packing up to go home and I say, "You are not carrying all that crap through the airport again." She looked at her bags, which were already stuffed to capacity and said, "I have to, there is nothing I can do with them." "I will make them fit. " I said. "I can not tolerate watching you lug them around for a whole other flight." So we stuffed and crammed them into her luggage. When we got to the airport and were checking in they of course weighed her bags. The woman looked at her and said, "Well this ones a bit heavy. It's 19lbs. over. Do you want to take some stuff out?" Rachel looked at her like she was insane and said, "Please, enlighten me, what would you suggest I do with 19lbs. worth of S%#t in this airport?"

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

This is a Yoga Story

Okay if you don't do yoga, stop now. This will bore you. I must share it with my yoga friends because it is really funny. So I go to this yoga class tonight, that honestly I didn't expect much out of. It was just that everything worked out so perfectly. It was the first night Chase didn't have to be out in Thorndale for soccer. Right after school both kids got invited to friends houses. I had run today, needed to stretch. I thought, why not? Why not is because this particular studio teaches the same class over and over again. There are no tricks, no music and for some reason the teacher, whoever it may be is always talking about getting rid of your negative thoughts. Which bugs me because I don't really have any negative thoughts. Maybe they're trying to get me to find some, I don't know. Regardless, I wanted to do yoga, I felt like going to a class and this is basically the only game in town. So I went. I was a little late because I spent time chatting with some friends when I dropped Chase off so I went in and put my mat down where there was space. Which happened to be in the front of the room. So the teacher comes in and starts with the See Spot Run routine, warrior ones, warrior twos, blah, blah, blah. Now I do not do anything different than what she was saying but when she said jump to the front of your mat, actually she said, "Spring to the front of your mat." I do, but I go up into handstand. I do it all the time, it's no big deal. Well I guess I threw her off because she gasped and came up to me and said, "Can you not do that?" Huh? Really? You're serious? This is my practice. I paid money. I'm following along to the lame instructions. I thought of my friend Kirsten who would have rolled up her mat and walked out. I wished I had the guts to do that, but I actually like the teacher, she is just a bit clueless. So I just stared at her and continued on. I didn't jump into handstand again, but I did bang out some tricks. Which is my right. God. So anyway, at the end of class she pulls me aside and says, "Amy, I am really sorry. You have an amazing practice. I want you to come to my class. Could you just sit in the back corner of the room. It is to distracting." You know what, why don't I just practice in the bathroom. Maybe that would be better. Luckily the one voicemail I had when I got out was from Kirsten. I called her and we laughed and it made me feel better. Kirsten said, "What did you say when she said that?" I told her, I didn't say anything, there were only two words that were coming to my mind and they were completely inappropriate for a yoga studio.

This is Kirsten she would have never stood for this nonsense.

Monday, January 28, 2008

Oh No He Didn't

Okay so there was more to the Chase and his Halloween candy story. A long time ago, if you keep up, I took his candy and hid it. He worked it out of me though. Made me feel really guilty about taking it. I fessed up and with a lot of promises of him only eating one piece a day I gave it back. Stupid, I know. But come on, it's Chase. I do whatever he says. So things seemed to be going well for a while. I never saw a wrapper. Never saw him eating any of it. Truthfully I forgot all about it. Then one day a week or so ago I saw the telltale Skittles wrapper. Hmm.... Where is that candy? I let it go though, thinking maybe he had got them at a birthday party or something. Then a couple days after that there were Tootsie roll wrappers on the side of his bed near the wall. Now this is what I don't understand. Why would he not just throw the wrappers in the trashcan? It makes no sense to me. Trying to hide the candy from Mom? Show me how smart you are. Have I taught you nothing? So I started looking for it again. I found the bag in his drawer. Once again, I took it. I mean't to bring it downstairs and put it outside in the trashcan but I got busy and left it hanging on the top of the staircase. Totally forgot about it. Well a few days go by and I remember that I had taken it. It is not on the stairs anymore. Chase has not said one word about it. So a couple days ago I say, "How's that candy working out for you Chase?" He totally ignored me, like I had said nothing. Just walked away. I let it happen. I thought, maybe he's not ready to talk about it yet. Yes, I am aware I let this child get away with murder. Whatever. So, today I go in his room to wake him up for school. He had closed his shades the night before. I walk over to the window to open them and behind his tv cabinet is all his candy. Bag gone. Just spread out where he can reach whatever his little heart desires. I guess he showed me. Fixed my little red wagon.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Our Flight Home

First of all, for all of those of you who are e mailing me, I did not see anymore celebrities, if I did I did not recognize them. When we were walking around it was snowing, people had on hats and glasses for god's sake and I really forgot to look as I was to intent on shopping. I'm sorry. I am saying that in the voice that one of my kids does when they are not really sorry, just aggravated that I am annoyed with them. "I'm SORRY!" Can we go on now?
So since I shared the thrilling story of our flight out I thought I would share the mildly funny story of our flight home. So Marc and I were in different aisles. I guess I didn't confirm and we got to the airport really late (as anyone who has traveled with us knows is our habit) and so we got switched out of the seats I booked and reseated into beat seats. I was between this older guy with his earphones and suduko book and a girl who looked to be in her early thirties. She immediately closed her eyes. Now I am not afraid to fly, anymore. Since the death flight I was on a long time ago I have been reassured by my tarot card reader (that's what I said) that I will never die on an airplane. Let me tell you, people flying with me love to hear this. Anyway, before she told me that for a long time I was always afraid and would have to take a little valium so I didn't go into full on panic attack. I haven't had to take one for a while but I keep them handy just in case. So as I was between two strangers, neither who seemed to want to pay any attention to me and a very bumpy take-off I quickly reached in my bag and chewed one up. Meanwhile, the girl, who's name is Nicole finally opened her eyes and noticed that I was looking a little shaky. She was really nice and talked to me the whole time we were going up through the wind. Then the valium kicked in. So I politely said I was tired and closed my eyes. That's the last thing I remember until Nicole was literally pulling me off suduko guys lap. I had fallen asleep and apparently really drifted off into his personal space. She was laughing as she was like, in a little whisper, "Amy, I think you should move over a little." Whoops. I woke up then. It was a very bumpy flight. Nicole chatted the whole time though. Home safe now. Todays lesson. If you take a valium, make sure there's a friend around.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Chilean Sea Bass

I have a friend who loves Chilean sea bass. So much so that whenever we are planning on going out to dinner we have to have the same discussion. Her, "Do you think they'll have Chilean sea bass?" Me, "Don't know. Don't care." Her, "Do they usually have Chilean sea bass?" Me, "Don't know. Don't care." Her, "Maybe Chilean sea bass will be the special." Chilean sea bass. Chilean sea bass. Chilean sea bass. I swear to God I had to say to her one time, "Please never say the words Chilean sea bass to me again." Then, when we get to the restaurant if by some bad cosmic joke it is the special, and it has been, a number of times, there are countless, relentless questions for the poor unsuspecting waitperson, "Where is the Chilean sea bass from?" "How did the Chilean sea bass get here?" "How long has the Chilean sea bass been here?" "Who caught the Chilean sea bass?" Until the rest of the table is starting to stick the sharp knives in the palms of their hands. Let me tell you, nine times out of ten she doesn't even order the Chilean sea bass. So why all the talk of Chilean sea bass? Can you barely stand to hear the words Chilean sea bass again? Well, the other night we were at this dinner party and the two choices for dinner were filet and guess what? Chilean sea bass. This was actually difficult for me because although I have not eaten meat since I was about 17 the very thought of uttering the words Chilean sea bass to the waiter was very unsettling. I was hungry though, so I did. I ordered it. I don't even like fish that much but I was hungry. So I ate it. I was literally sick for the next three days. Directly after I ate it I had the sweats and stomach pains and they kept on, on and off for the next three days. You know what though? I don't blame the chef for perhaps cooking it wrong. I don't blame the restaurant for a bad batch, I don't even blame myself for ordering it. I blame her.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Sundance-Day 2

Yesterday Marc was hell bent on going to another film. I really just wanted to walk around town but seeing as I am so agreeable and don't care about getting my own way I said I'd go. At first the movie that he had decided on was called something like Bigger Faster Stronger about athletes on steroids. Hmmm... that sounds thrilling but okay, it's his deal. Sadly we couldn't get in that movie so he got tickets for this Italian film. I can't remember off the top of my head what it was called. Some Italian word. So we went in and of course there were subtitles. Usually this would not bother me but we had been up the day before for 23 hours and gotten 5 hours sleep and trying to concentrate and read them was not easy. Basically I fell asleep for a little while. I think this irritated him because when I did open my eyes I got a very annoyed look. So I tried to pay attention. The story was a guy and a girl with a baby, the guy leaves the girl and moves out. The whole time they are being filmed for a documentary on something. Of course the guy falls in love with another woman, the wife is devastated, there are some crazy friends in the mix and in the end the wife ends up with the guy filming her for the documentary. There you have it. Over lunch I said to Marc, "So if we had rented that, how long would you have watched it for?" His answer was, "Not very long." But, I went. So today we are doing what I want to to do, which is go shopping and look for celebrities. We are off to a slow start though.
Last night we went out to dinner with all the people that are staying in the house. I sat next to Elvis, he is the guy who did all the interviews for The Blacklist. He was also in an episode of Entourage.
Tonight there is another screening of The Blacklist. It is in Salt Lake City. We will go to that and then out to dinner there. Then tomorrow we will be coming home.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Sundance Day One

So we got here in Utah and rode down to Park City. We walked around a little bit and then came to the house that we are staying in to get showers and get ready to go out. This house is totally killer and when I get home I will post pictures of it. It has a media room, endless bedrooms, a gym, a pool table room, it's really cool. All the people staying here are involved in making the movie, the director, the ad people, the photographer, the producers, etc.....
First we went to this bar/restaurant called The Black House where HBO was having a dinner for all the people and friends who made the movie. It was nice. Then we went to the premiere of the movie The Black List, it was amazing. It is beautifully shot by this amazing photograher Timothy Greenfield-Sanders, some of the interviews include, Toni Morrison, Chris Rock, Colin Powell, P. Diddy, Al Sharpton (who was actually really cool, gave you a whole new perspective on him). There were many others and each one was unique and interesting in it's own way. It was really such a huge treat to be able to go.

After the premiere we went back to The Black House because HBO was having a party for everyone. It was really fun. There was great music, tons of people. I met Tommy Davidson. He was in In Living Color and a whole bunch of other tv shows and movies. All in all it was really fun.

Our Flight Out

We got up at 4:45 to get ready and get to the airport for our 7:00 flight. Everything went smoothly we got on the plane at 6:45 and then things stopped. Apparently there were engine problems. Scary. I hate when they say engine problems. I guess it's better when they say it and you are still on the ground and not spiraling downwards out of the sky. So I got busy, by 7:20 I had read a magazine, txted a couple friends, talked to Saige, listened to Chase's science report (which I swear he was not reading to me, just making it up as he was going along, but whatever), tried to call my Mom and then I was bored. I also tend to fidget in seats when I am not comfortable. I shift, sit on one foot, then on another, turn to one side, sit on both feet, I can be really annoying. I remember one time my brother Mark and I were at this Broadway show and it was really boring me. I was moving around so much that I must have been bugging the hell out of the people behind me. Finally Mark turned to me and said, "What the *#^+@ is wrong with you? Cut it out!" Which of course made me start to laugh and then we ended up leaving.
So anyway, we realize our plane is not going anywhere anytime soon. There was Marc in the aisle, then me, then this guy. The guy seemed nice enough but I was really wishing he would go away because I wanted that window seat. After an hour went by the steward comes up and tells the guy they are switching him to another plane because he is not going to make his connection to Seattle. I mumbled some, "Oh bummer. Good luck." but I was thinking, See ya! So he leaves, I get up and go to the bathroom and when I come back Marc is sitting in the window seat. Um, okay, get out. I just stare at him in disbelief. He's like, "What?" I say, "Move, that is so my seat." So he moved. At this point I got out my IPod and lied down on those two seats and I was so so so happy. Two hours of just lying there, listening to my music, thinking about what I did yesterday, what I might do tomorrow and there was not another thing in the world I could possibly need to do. No phone ringing, no laundry, no picking up kids, no errands, no taking out the dogs, no nothing. It was lovely. I really have to say I was so content I almost felt sorry for everyone who wasn't lying right there right then. Our plane finally left three hours late. No big deal, at least it was all fixed and ready to go. We got here safely. So what is my moral? Why am I rambling on about this? Hmmm..... I guess make sure you have good tunes and good thoughts on you at all times.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Sundance- The Black List

Photo by: Timothy Greenfield Sanders

Tomorrow Marc and I leave for Utah. We are going to Sundance Film Festival. Marc's business partner was involved with making a movie called The Black List that made it into Sundance. We are lucky enough to be able to go and hang with them. HBO just bought the rights to the movie and is having a big party for them tomorrow night. Chris Rock is in the movie. I love him. I really hope we meet him. That's all I care about. I am putting a link into the review that came out about it in case anyone is interested.

Chase and The Library Lady

Do you remember that epidsode of Friends that we found out that Ross made out with the library lady? Don't worry, that's not what happened with Chase. At least I hope not. I am kidding. Of course not, that's disgusting. K. Here's what happened, well, let me say first that last night we went out to dinner with Marc's Uncle Michael, Aunt Susan and cousin Amanda and Marc told this story, so it is coming second hand, but I remember it. Let me also say I will be dreaming about the seared ahi tuna at Buddakan for a long time coming, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, Marc get's home from work the other night and he's hanging with Chase making this bridge out of popsicle sticks for a science project they like the third grade parents to do every year. Just for a little fun. I know because last year I built Saige's. As they are burning their fingers on the glue gun Chase says to Marc, "Hey Dad, guess what? I've got an in at the library?" "Huh?" Marc says, "What do you mean an in?" "You know, Dad, like you always have them leave your car in front wherever we go, I get special treatment." Where could this be going? Marc says, "How do you get special treatment Chase, I'm not following." Chase says, "Well the library lady really likes me, so whenever I go in she finds all the books I need for me." Marc is silent for a moment, taking this in. Chase adds in, "And she knows I like sharks, so whenever a new shark book comes in she sets it aside. Nobody gets those shark books before me." While he told this story everyone was laughing. I was thinking to myself, either this is really funny or really disturbing. Since I try to be as positive a person as I can be I am going to go with funny and be thankful that, A. Chase visits the library at all, because let's face it, academics are not his top priority right now. and B. because of A. a little charisma can't be a bad thing, can it?

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

My Hair- A Really Long Story

Okay, this really is a story about my hair. If you think it might bore you, bail now, or laugh at my expense. Your choice. Makes no difference to me. On Friday one of my best friends (one of, don't get mad-you know who you are) Rachel came to visit me from N.J. Besides being my friend she is also my hair stylist and was kind enough to come do my hair at my house. I let her do whatever she feels like doing. She told me she was going to make the front, where it is usually dark, more coppery. Fine. Whatever. So she puts the stuff on and when she rinses it out it is really red. Like Spiderwoman red. As an added bonus my skin is red too. So I go to take a shower. She comes up and sees it and goes, "Man, that never happens." Nice. That's what I want to hear. Meanwhile, Marc comes home. He tells me later that Rachel ran downstairs and said, "I really screwed up Amy's hair. She's pissed. Okay gimme a kiss." She came back up. There was nothing we could do to fix it then so she just dryed it and we went out.
The next morning I went to the gym. I saw my friend Dan who said, "I love your hair!" "You do?" I said. He goes, "Yeah, it's so bold. It says, I'm living."Okay, I love Dan but I have got to get rid of this hair. I am already the mom with the tattoo on the back of her neck and the son with the pierced ear. How different can I be?
The next day, Sunday, I go running outside. I had a hat on, when I get home under the hat my forehead is all red because the stupid dye has leaked. I call Rachel and tell her that I am coming down tonight. It has to be fixed.
Saige and I get down to Cherryhill at around 6. Rachel has to start by putting this stuff on my hair to get the red out. Her boyfriend du jour, who is also a stylist, a bald, one arm tattooed, nice as the day is long, stylist, but a stylist nontheless put it on for me. I actually watched my hair turn pink as it was on there. That was fun. Frank (the boyfriend) rinsed it out and Rachel put this other stuff on to get the red that had run through the blond part of my hair. This stuff was all over with foils and whatnot. So much that Zeus, Franks rottweiler , who had been my best buddy up until this point got scared and started barking at me. Another fun part. So that stuff sits on there for what seems like ever. Frank rinses it out. He is silent. I say, "Is all the pink out?" Silence. "Is all the pink out?" Silence. "Frank," I am shouting now. "Can you not hear me?"
Frank finally speaks, "Well, all the pink is gone but it's purple now." Okay, this has ceased being funny. I have tried to be quiet and patient because I know that Rachel is more upset than I am but come on. Purple? Really? Let me add in that the night before I was out until 2:30. I got up at 8 a.m. and ran a long time that day. Tired was an understatement, and it was sleet raining outside and my friggin' hair is purple. I was running short on patience. Frank was finding humor in it though which was annoying all of us. Add on to that, that Chase is calling me from his cell phone telling me he is worried about me. This was upsetting me because it is out of character for him but also Chase knows things. You know, before they happen sometimes, so I don't want to hear that. So finally at 10:30 after another round of crap on my head and some treatment that sat there forever it is over. I want to leave. Rachel insists she is drying it. I am sitting in her chair and I see scissors in her hand. I am like, "Rachel, what are you doing?" She says, "It needs to be trimed." "No!" I almost scream. "Please, let me go. Cut it another time. Dye it blue for all care but let me leave." She is visibly annoyed with me now, she wants to finish what she started, but with a huff she puts the scissors on the table and starts drying it. Halfway through my phone rings again, Chase, again. I say, "Okay, I'm out of here." I stand up. She is just staring at me in disbelief. I get my kid and leave. End of story. My hair does look good now though.

Monday, January 7, 2008

Dr. Dave

I have a very good friend Lisa, who is a lot like me. Very liberal, very to the left, does yoga, whole nine yards. Her husband, Dave, is a bit more conservative. We love him, he is great fun, but just more conservative. The other night the kids and I were at their house having dinner and hanging out with Lisa and her three boys. Lisa and I were in the kitchen talking and Dave came home from work. So we were chatting, somehow the subject of kids hair came up. Their son Ethan, who is mentioned in this blog a lot as one of Chase's buddies has kind of shaggy hair. Dave does not like it at all. He wants them to have short, neat looking hair. So of course I had to say, "Dave, you must have had a problem with Chase then, seeing as not only is his ear pierced (since he was 5) but he had a mohawk for quite a while there." Dave looked at me and said in all seriousness, "Amy, if I didn't know you guys, I wouldn't let Ethan play with him." To which I replied, "Yeah, that's how we keep out the riff raff."

Saturday, January 5, 2008

What Comes Around.......

For as long as I can remember Marc and I have been torturing Chase with the question, "Who do you love more? Me or Daddy? Me or Mommy?" It's a joke because he is so adamant about never ever picking one over the other. He gets a bit belligerent about it. "I love you both the same!" We try to get him any way we can, Marc with, "Come on buddy, I'm much more fun. You definitely love me a little more." Or me with, "Chase, it's alright, you don't have to say anything, I just know that you love me a smidge more." For some reason this bugs him to no end, so of course we persist with it. You can ask Saige the same thing and she'll just roll her eyes and walk away. So it's definitely not as fun to do to her.
Last night Marc and Saige went to Atlantic City for the Hannah Montana concert so it was just Chase and I. Chase went out for a while and as soon as he got home he said, "Can I sleep in your room?" But of course. This morning I got him up extra early so we would have time to lie there. We had to get up but he wanted five more minutes. So I said, "Okay, but tell me something." He said, "I love you." To which I replied, "I love you too." He said, "I love you more than you love me." I said, "That is simply not possible." Then he took my chin in his little hand and gently turned my head towards his and said in the quietest little whisper, "It's okay Mom, we're alone, you can admit you love me more than Saige." Funny boy. I don't know were he gets it from.

Friday, January 4, 2008

Happy New Year

Okay, I need to preface this story by saying I wrote it a few days ago but didn't post it because I can already imagine the comments and e mails I will receive from my brother especially. So let me just say, come on, it's funny. Don't judge, just laugh, we did.....
Marc has been sick for a few days. Nasty head cold. He just keeps on going though. At work every morning at 7:30, not home until 9:30 or 10. Over the weekend he got a little reprieve from going out on Saturday because in addition to his being sick I hurt my foot so we stayed in and rested. So, on New Years he was still sick, he worked though and he can rally with the best of them. We took Saige out to dinner, Chase chose to stay at his friends. After that we went to my friend Lisa's party. It was really fun. Chase was at the party with his buddy Ethan. At around 12:30 Chase came up to me and informed me that today (Jan 1) Marc would be taking him to get him paintball equiptment. I petted his cute little head and brushed it off.
The next morning I left for yoga before Marc was up. On top of being sick he had had a few tequilas and I figured he just needed the sleep. When I got home his car wasn't in the garage. Very confusing seeing he was first of all sick and secondly probably slightly hungover. I called his cell and said, "Where are you?" He said, "Walmart with Chase, he just worked $300 worth of paintball equiptment out of me." I can't even respond to this nonsense, whatever. Anyway, later in the day I went to pick up Chase and Ethan. Ethans dad, our friend Dave said, "Marc's a better dad than me. If Ethan had called me New Years Day and told me I had to buy him paintball equiptment I would have told him no way." At which point Chase chimed in, "Yeah, but he promised me last night. When he was drunk." Nice. Let's hope he didn't share that one at school as to what I did over Christmas break.

Can You Feel It???

Waking up for school is never easy. Everyone's so tired. They need chill time in the morning, especially Chase, just time to sit and stare for a few minutes before he has to deal with the day. They would love if I would let them turn on the tv and space, but there is no tv in the morning in our house. However, music is a must. It is rare that you walk into our house and there is not music playing somewhere. Sometimes I think when they grow up their childhood will seem like one really long soundtrack. Which isn't really a bad thing, I don't think. So, every morning, in an effort to get them moving I ask them what they want to listen to. They usually just stare at me from their seats at the counter like either they can see right through me or I am possibly from another planet. I persist though, "Come on, what do you need to hear today?? Somebody, give me something." Usually it is Saige that will finally throw me a bone. "How about Love Like This?" Okay, now we got something going. Every once in a while Chase will pick and it is usually Akon's "Blame it on Me" or Akon and Snoop Dog singing "I Wanna Love You", both perfectly acceptable morning songs in our house. So, after I finally get somebody to pick something I try to get them moving. This is not easy on a school day. If Chase dances he wants to have one arm around my back and hold my other hand and in the morning it is very rare if he will do this. He has got to be well rested. I can get Saige going sometimes though and she will all out crazy dance, jumping up and down with her arms swinging, a cardio workout. To try and get them going I say, "Come on, can you feel it?" Which even if they won't dance, makes them laugh. That's all that counts right?

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Chris's comment from My Secret Keeper

The author is Thomas Perry and the reviewer was Michael Connelly who was asked to write a foreword to one of Perry's books that was being re-released 20 years after it was first published. Connelly had the benefit of knowing how widely read Perry had become but to me that only makes the comment that much more poignant.
As soon as I read your story about Chase and his unbelievable sensitivity Connelly's words popped into my head. Imagine a little boy understanding so clearly not only that another little boy is under so much stress. but that to help ease that stress all he has to do is quietly listen while his young friend unloads some of the weight that his on his too-small shoulders. Sometimes the world is a sad place...