what's the dealie-o?

enlighten me, if you will. i have this nagging question that i can't find an answer to. so i'm reaching out to you, my peeps. tell me, if you can-
what makes someone a sore loser?

i have thought about it for a very long time. i've even googled it, but all i got was a bunch of hits on "new york jets fans".

at the risk of being too personal and exposing my weaknesses to the general public... oh, who are we kidding... if you're reading this and you know me, you know how much i HATE to lose. i have always been like that. ask marji, my friend since age 5. there isn't a game on earth we haven't played that i didn't cheat at. and while i did grow up some, and pretty much quit cheating by the time i reached high school, i still have a really hard time losing.

i think the reason it's on my mind is that i see it becoming a very prevalent trait in my son. i've sort of learned to deal with it myself... although, when i say i "sort of" learned how to deal with it, i am about to confess a very humiliating thing: i cried a few weeks ago when skip spanked me in rummy. yes, i actually quit before we finished because i was losing so severely, i couldn't handle it anymore. and then i exploded into tears! all the while i was thinking, "what the hell is going on here? am i five?" we play a game almost every night, and we're pretty even on the win/lose ratio. and i usually handle my wins and losses with grace. but for some reason, which totally escapes me, that night was a complete fiasco.

so. then there's my son. it's like a mirror image. and i really want to help him deal with that, because unless he finds his own personal marji, every other kid is gonna say "great. game time with whiny boy. WICKED fun." obviously, to get to the root of a problem, you have to find the cause. it has to be some kind of insecurity, right? but honestly, i believe i'm still a decent person in spite of my shellacking in rummy the other night. so why the devastation?

anyway. maybe it's one of those "hello, idiot" things (see above). i dunno. maybe everyone in my circle of trust is keenly aware of something that i myself am blind to. but if you can shed some light on this for me, or have any tips on how to help my son over the hurdle, please comment or email me. if not, then i'll be forced to teach him how to cheat like a pro.

the shagadellic man who stole my mojo

so skip had to travel to ft. lewis for some army stuff. do you see this man? would YOU want to sleep a night without him? possibly yes, but only because you're not married to him. but if you were, i guarantee the answer would be no. he left today, and every mile he drove marked a significant decrease on my mojometer. (pronounce mo-JOM-it-ur)
while i will admit that i love having the whole bed to myself because i can sleep in my preferred "L" position, i really do hate sleeping without him. and is it weird that i can't really think of anything to do other than get on here and blog about missing him? maybe it's because we're still in that first year of marriage. a seasoned wife would probably take advantage of this time to read a good book, or catch up on scrapbooking, or maybe even go out with the girls. but i just returned my book to the library yesterday, i've pretty much quit scrapbooking, and i haven't lived here long enough to have any friends. so there you go... it's me, blogspot, and a bedroom void of shagadellic adventures. COME HOME SOON B!! i love you.

NATIONAL HOLIDAYS!

NATIONAL 'FOUR-YEAR-OLDS DO THEIR OWN HAIR DAY!' (make sure you have no less than 2 tablespoons of gel handy!)

NATIONAL 'MOMS ARE STUPID FOR TRYING TO FIX FOUR-YEAR-OLD'S HAIR ON NATIONAL FOUR-YEAR-OLDS DO THEIR OWN HAIR DAY'!

Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday's Schizophrenics

it's a love-hate relationship with my calendar-

so i have some alter-egos. it's probably no secret, i know i can be a little off at times. but when all is said and done, i blame it on a sybil of disproportions. allow me to introduce you to a few:

1. erasmus b. dragon: busy week? better believe it. tuesdays, wednesdays, and thursdays we have soccer at 5:00, football at 6:00, and scouts somewhere in between. my husband has labs on one of those nights, which leaves one parent, three kids, and way too many places to be. erasmus b. dragon is fighting to break through.

2. yvonne a. peesamy: not my nicest persona. after erasmus checks out, and the fatigue is gone, yvonne has a tendency to rear her ugly head. about 6:15 on a thursday night? bad time for PTA to check on my progress with the bulletin board. even worse time for opposing team's parent to yell out, "hey, your kid just tripped my son!"

3. rick o'shea: when yvonne cools down, there's some kind of adrenaline leftovers hanging around. picture the car ride home: "mom, i'm hungry!" "do i have to take a shower tonight?" "he's looking at me!" "noe's breathing on my side of the car!" "somebody farted! can you put the windows down?" "mom, what's this sticky stuff back here?!" i can tell rick is in charge when my brain cells begin pinging off the interior of the minivan.

4. gladys overwith: gladys is secretly my best friend. when i get home and the kids are finally bathed and in bed, i lay myselves down. skip will usually ask me about our day. sweet little gladys replies, much to his good fortune. i fear what will happen should he ever ask when erasmus, yvonne, or rick are in charge.

p.s. here's my resource insert, not in APA format: i listen to car talk on NPR on saturdays. it's hilarious- 2 brothers from boston giving average joes across the nation advice on their vehicles. they give a list of credits at the end, and use these made-up names. these are some i've heard, so i can't take credit for inventing the name. just applying them to my crazy psyches.

i can't believe it's not butter!

i was enjoying a mug of raspberry lemon tea for lunch today, and i thought i would put up a post about how great it was. then i had the following thought process:

"what are you, some kind of abnormal, nerdy freak who writes about drinking tea?"

"i can't believe i'm thinking of writing about tea!"

"i said 'i can't believe'."

"kinda like 'i can't believe it's not butter!"

"mmm... butter... i think i'll have some toast with my tea."

so there you have it. if you're a tea drinker, les fruisienes is by far the yummiest. they have a bunch of fabulous flavors. if you know where to buy it, please let me know, because the last time a friend of mine went to france, i had her stock up for me. and now i'm running low and my french friend didn't move with me to idaho. and if you're not a tea drinker, may i recommend butter. it goes great on toast.

that's what little boys are made of

what else can i say? i have learned to find beauty in the joys of boyhood. to see them fascinated with things that i prefer to squish, has brought me a renewed appreciation for the innocence of childhood.

although, boys will be boys, because when i asked mika what he wanted to do with this, he said, "i think i'll go try and scare noe."

how sweet.

if you give a mom a moment

i LOVE children's books. we have a couple hundred here in the house, and rubbermaids full of hundreds more in the garage for my classroom. one of my all time favorites is the series by laura joffe numeroff. they are illustrated by felicia bond, who many of you moms may recognize from "the big red barn." each book is based on the premise that if the main character asks for something, you will go through a series of events to get it for them, just to end up right back where you started. the illustrations are endearing, and i love the way it teaches sequence and logic. as you can see, that's where i got the idea for the title of my blog. let me run you through the process of if you give a mom a moment...

if you give a mom a moment, she's going to want something to do to fill that time.

so, you offer her an internet connection and a desktop. she'll surf the internet, and decide to check out the webpages for her children's schools.

when she sees the webpages, she'll notice a posting from the PTA looking for volunteers. she'll agree to do the school newsletter, the PTA bulletin board, and lead the efforts to repaint the playground equipment.

you'll take her to the school to examine the playground equipment. seeing the play field will remind her that she signed one son up for football, and the other for soccer. practices start tonight, and she remembers last year's cleats are too small. so you'll drive her to walmart to get some new ones.

as she enters walmart, she spots a display of goldfish crackers for sale. the goldfish crackers remind her that she has not prepared her lesson for church nursery on sunday. she begins to feel guilt, so you offer to buy her chocolate ice cream.

when you get to the ice cream shop, she'll spill a little chocolate ice cream on her shirt. the stain will remind her that she has no less than seven loads of laundry to be done at home. so you take her home to do her laundry.

while she's doing her laundry, she remembers how good the chocolate ice cream was, and wishes she had brought some home for dessert. thinking of dessert will remind her that she still has to think about making supper for everyone.

when she gets up to look in the refrigerator, she remembers the church service lady asked her to make supper for a new mom. you'll suggest spagetti goes a long way, and she'll begin to boil the noodles.

then her children come home from school. seeing the steam from the boiling noodles will remind her son that he has do do a science experiment involving dry ice. you tell her to tell her son to look up some information on the internet.

when she hears the computer kick on, it will remind her of surfing the net earlier. she'll remember all the things she's supposed to do,

and chances are, if she remembers all the things she's supposed to do,

she'll want a moment in which to do them all.

"babe, i touched a cow!" (or livestock fur sticks to nacho cheese)

i love a good county fair. there is so much to enjoy! and our county fair was no disappointment. the kids went on rides, didn't puke or die, played a few games, won cheap prizes that didn't have fleas, and we ate lots of crap. as satirical as that may sound, it was a blast.

most of you know i'm really into eating healthy. but there are occasions when i splurge, and indulge my family in the same privilege. county fairs are one of those times. how can you possibly say no to corn dogs, onion rings, nachos, cotton candy, and my personal favorite: FRIED DOUGH. it's WICKED good! i had to promise skip that if i ate all that, i wouldn't whine about the lard in my arteries any time afterward. it seemed a fair trade.

that said, we enjoyed a lot of yummy food. but i discovered that the grease, combined with the nacho cheese, makes a really sticky foundation for cinamon sugar off the fried dough, and cow fur from the livestock show. (see above shots)

as much fun as it was to watch my fair-food-crusted children scream on the rides, the absolute highlight of the fair came in the livestock barns. we walked in, noe plugged her nose, and we began to observe something bordering on a scene out of charlotte's web. the cows were soft and clean, the horses shone, even the pigs showed their true, mud-free colors. i was genuinely appreciating this, when my husband leaned over and said, "babe... i just touched a cow." i gave him a small, closed-mouth smile, raised my eyebrows a bit, and nodded. big whoop. he clearly sensed my lack of enthusiasm, and repeated, "no, babe... i just touched a cow." i made eye contact with this man i love so dearly, and saw he was actually kind of excited. "yes?" i asked. he replied, "babe. i've never touched a cow before!" my city boy. i guess there aren't too many bovine on the streets of LA, other than maybe at jack-in-the-box.

he was truly excited. unfortunately, my batteries died in my camera, and i couldn't actually capture the moment. but he later touched a pig as well. i am so proud of him for broadening his horizons, and exposing himself to the really great things in life. anyway, here's the happy guy, who's already looking forward to next year's events:

super boy, super bee

HE DID IT!!!

super bee is the kindergarten helper. he helps the teacher help the kids to behave. if they have a SUPER good day, and bee really good, helpful, hardworking, etc., they get to bring super bee home for the night.
keola has been dying for super bee. he has had plans laid out for this thing since day one of school.
if you know keola, you know what a HUGE amount of effort it takes for him to have a SUPER good day from start to finish. keola is so full of life, so full of passion and strength, sometimes it just explodes out of his little six year old body. so for keola to bring home super bee... whoo! he was so proud, i was so proud. it's amazing how at certain moments in life, you can feel emotion to such a strong degree that it almost becomes palpable. this was one of those moments. it was so good, in fact, that i didn't even mind when super bee spanked us both in a round of monopoly junior later that evening:

the laundry quandary

this is about a week's worth of laundry. shirts to be hung are draped over the couch. socks are still in a pile, haven't sorted them yet. but this is more or less the end result. isn't it beautiful? in fact, i'm so enamored by it, that i'm considering leaving it there. before you think that's weird, let me explain a few points of order:

1. if you've ever seen a child look for something in their drawer, you will know that inevitably, they go for whatever lies on the bottom of the drawer. to get to it, they rummage through all the nicely folded clothes, thus making them not-so-nicely-folded. this makes me sad.

2. at this moment, the laundry is pretty much done. except that it's not, because my whole family is actually wearing clothes right now. which means in about 2 hours, after baths, there will be more laundry.

3. nothing in this pile smells odd, has a stain, or holds living creatures in its pockets.

4. nothing in this pile is missing.

now. those are simple points. i don't think i'm out of line in presenting them. my original thought, my brainchild of domestic duties, that i leave this laundry right where it is, actually ties in to address all four points of order. if no one moves this laundry, the drawers will never be a mess; the laundry (eventually) will at some point be DONE; it will always stay clean; more grasshoppers will live; and everyone will always know where their clothes are. each week, i'll do a little more, and eventually, it will pile up into a laundry utopia. i realize in order for this to work, however, we will have to move to a nudist colony, which could potentially be embarrassing for my entire family and me. thus spawns my laundry quandry.

i am the girl that says "i told you so"

one day this summer, we were driving and i saw this really weird bird. it seemed HUGE to me, so i pointed out to a carful of 6 others that i had just seen a huge, multi-colored bird. for some reason, this amused the whole carful, none of which actually believed me. i was stunned at the disrespect!

about a month later, i saw a picture of this bird in a waiting room. it was labeled "pheasant." so i came home and told the doubting thomii that the mystery joke bird was a pheasant. again, laughter and mocking from the skeptical six.

well. i nearly gave my life to take these photos. i was driving home today (of course with the youngest of the six, the one with the least ability to communicate and vouch for me) and i almost ran over this bird! i slammed on my brakes, which i discovered were anti-lock, grabbed my camera, which i happened to be carrying, and almost fell out the window taking these shots.

then i stalked the poor pheasant across a parking lot and into the shrubbery, all for the mere satisfaction of saying I TOLD YOU I SAW A HUGE MULTI-COLORED BIRD!! and to you unbelievers... wait until you see what i dress up for this year's thanksgiving dinner. you'll never notice the difference. they say it tastes JUST LIKE turkey.

rock-a-bye hell's bells (aka naptime)

i'm thinking noe has outgrown her naps. she turned 4 in april. look with me, if you will, at yesterday's experience. it was 12:30... i figured i'd lay her down. i also figured, and maybe this was my mistake, that since i'm now a stay-at-home mom, i would take advantage of naptime and nap with her. so we layed down on the dora pillows, all cuddled up under the blankies, holding hands and smiling. this is the kind of sugar and spice that melts my heart. i closed my eyes, and for about 2 1/2 minutes, everything was going swimmingly.

then i felt a soft stroking on my nose. i figured she was being maternal and helping lull me to sleep. the strokes soon turned into light taps. light taps became firm taps. suddenly, my nose was being flicked. i opened my eyes and said, "what are you doing?" "time to wake up mommy!" i, of course, did not feel it was time to wake up. so i did my best to convince her and we settled back down.

a minute passed, and a blast of hot breath hit my face. i opened one eye, at which point i was asked, "noe breath smell mommy?" i assured her her breath was delightful, and we should rest now. silence. paper rustling. one eye opens. she's pulled out her notebook and pencil from under her pillow. i closed my eye again, satisfied with this quiet activity.

TAP-TAP-TAP. (sound of pencil on my forehead).

i opened both eyes. "mommy look my picture!" apparently it was her and samantha shopping. i had mistaken it for a bowl of spagetti.

we put the pad and pencil away, and this time, settled down for a nap. the next thing i knew, my daughter was jumping on the bed, singing at the top of her lungs, "ROCK A BYE MOMMY, GO TO SLEEP, NOE NOT SLEEPING, GO TO SLEEP MOMMY!" i'm fairly certain she was using the melody from AC/DC's hell's bells.

at this point, i knew i had lost,
and here's how we passed the afternoon instead:
walking mr. bunny, pushing mr. bunny on the swing, swinging with mr. bunny, climbing a tree, and catching ladybugs.






i will admit it was way more fun than taking a nap. maybe this kid is onto something!!

"mastigophora... comeinandeat!"

skip and i often talk about teachers we've had throughout our lives. we both have a couple of favorites that stand out. (one of his was ms. lopez, because she was hot. i was never so shallow. unless of course, you count mr. aussant, my anatomy teacher in 11th grade, who was hot.)

anyway. the fact that i remember what a mastigophora is, or can readily explain molecular movement of solids, liquids and gasses as related to high schoolers dancing, or that i developed an appreciation for percy sledge, can all be attributed to mr. duluk. biology, 10th grade. the fact that i was more interested in mitochondria than staring at jason mikulis for an hour is big kudos on his part. at the end of the semester, mr. duluk gave out awards to the students in his class. i won the "kicked out of class" award. everytime he had a sub, i got kicked out of class. honestly, why would i want to sit through biology with anyone other than mr. duluk?

he had some sort of crazy camraderie with the other science teachers. they would randomly break into song and dance, interrupt each others' classes, all the while making golgi apparatus and endoplasmic reticulum seem like a normal part of a teenager's vocabulary. i have actually answered questions correctly on jeapordy with facts i learned in mr. duluk's class. unfortunately, that's the extent of practical application of my biology knowledge, but nonetheless...

i take that back. in teaching 2nd grade, we cover a few of the basics, and i find myself getting excited when the topic comes up. i can also help mika with some homework. and as most of you know, i like to act like i know it all, so the ability to quickly throw out biological terms and their meanings bodes well with me. and who knows, maybe one day i'll make it onto jeapordy, and my video daily double will be a clip of cells dividing, which i will correctly identify as "mitosis", using words like "cytoplasm" and "metaphase". i'll be sure to cut mr. duluk in on a chunk of my winnings, so he can buy himself a new pair of blues brothers sunglasses.

ps some of you have asked for some clarification on the title. to help us remember the term "mastigophora", he would yell the word towards the window, like he was calling his kid, and tell him it was time to come home, or time for supper. his famous line was come in and eat. it was hilarious, but probably only if you were there to witness it.

I'll do whatever puts a smile on my baby's face...

...you're my best friend and you can never be replaced. (check out the song "what am i gonna do" by tyrese)

it's come to my realization that a lot of you who read this don't actually know my husband! that's the down side of moving away from the people you love. so anyway, i figured i'd give him his own little intro spot, that way when i make all kinds of references to him, you'll have a better idea of the man behind the lakersmile.

yes, "skip" is a nickname. his real name is alfred, (no batcave jokes please) which he didn't even know until the first day of kindergarten when the teacher called "alfred jones." he is from los angeles, but has lived all over with the army for the past 18 years.

we share a love for music. when we "merged" our ipod libraries, it brought our total collection to just shy of 6000 songs. we make a playlist for every occasion... cleaning the house, playing scrabble, summertime bbq's, and several which i can't mention on a G-rated post.

we are a lot alike in a lot of ways. we share the same strengths and weaknesses, which turned out to be a good thing. skip has a sense of humor second to none. well, okay, second to mine. he actually asked me to make a husband's corner on my blog so he can rebuttle some of the posts he knows will come.

we love sports. we haven't hooked up tv since we moved, so when the angels/sox series was on, we signed up for text message score notifications on our cell phones. i don't see us surviving basketball season without ESPN.

he is a wonderful father. he loves and cares for my children while extending that same love across the miles to his own. when we are all together, there is so much love in our home. (chaos as well... but a lotta love).

i am blessed with a husband who works by my side, who is strong and smart and sexy, and all the amazing things i could hope for. we stay up late and talk about sports and politics and religion and music and our life history and our children and our relationship... and we do it all again the next day. he is my best friend, and since he'll eventually read this... i love you b!

thanks for making my life all that it is.

Wookin' Pa Nub...

eddie murphy does this great buckwheat (little rascals) sketch. in one, he produces "buckwheat's greatest hits", where he sings some of americas's best-loved songs. the classic is "wookin' pa nub in all da wong pwaces..." (for those slower to catch on, 'lookin for love in all the wrong places').

anyway. at times i fear my children are wookin pa nub in all da wong pwaces. as any mother can relate, the concept of "me" time is void. UNLESS... of course, you have a lock on your bathroom door. it is there, the one true place, that a mother should find peace and tranquility. i say "should" because theoretically, it's true. realistically, however, it is not. i don't even think i made it to page 6 of my people magazine before the first knock came. i dismissed the child with mock kindness and read on about the jailed starlet of the week. moments later, a small voice: "mom? can i have a snack?" again, i politely encouraged the child to leave. silence followed, turns out lindsay lohan is back in rehab. "mom? can i have a hug?" the child was invited to wook pa nub elsewhere. i made it to page 13, when a slip of paper came sliding under the door. it read, "mom. hi." thus ended my solitude in the bathroom.

this story is true. it took place in a home where i had a lock on my bathroom door. now, i have one of those doors that slides into the wall, and has no lock. i have had to narrow my sanctuary to the actual shower stall. before i started teaching (and on the weekends after i taught) i worked at bath and body works. my bathroom shelving unit resembles an actual corner of the bath and body works store. it's my one luxury that remains untouched by the rest of the family. no one wants to smell like a girl. we have dual heads in our shower, and i will spoil myself by turning both of them on and using a minimum of four bath and body works products on my hair, body, feet and face. it's divine. but there are still children who are wookin pa nub. i was JUST about to step into my dual stream shower, with some shea butter bead foot scrub in tow, when the door was slid open with gusto and a small child proclaimed "WE MADE OUR BEDS!" this was followed by a banshee shriek on my part, and stunned silence from the child.

i think it's safe to say next time there will be a knock, perhaps even just a note slid under the door. and i can now consider that move an acceptable intrusion into my sanctuary.

me & ann at BBW...

or is that in front of my bathroom shelf?