Boy child learns to ride bicycle in under fifteen minutes;
Lance Armstrong loses endorsements to the young protege Woman finishes His Dark Materials series;
Declares DUST to be part of life’s joy and refuses to clean again Inside of washing machine coated in GOLD!
It only took one wash of daughter’s Belle princess dress, says Mom Parents alerted when rouge animals eat household pet!
Kids’ imaginations create compelling Lego story, but family cat remained unharmed Husband goes 24 hours without viewing an Episode of Mythbusters
He’s not ill, he’s just playing Mario Kart
Will’s book, “What I Like About Fall.” Order emphasized by Will, who reads each picture.
Page One. TRICK or TREATING.
Page Two. Carving a JACK O LANTERN.
Page Three. TAKING a NAP.
Page Four. Wearing JACKETS.
Will’s drawings of THINGS IMPORTANT IN HALLOWEEN. (Drawn on Will and Kate’s daily chore chart. The strange fairy on the first picture and the X-wing on the second picture were done by me. Will decided to seasonally enhance them.)
Ghosts. “They say BOO.”
Pumpkins. Jack o’Lanterns. “That’s what they’re called when they have faces.”
Witches. “They ride brooms.”
And Zombies. “They go ‘uuuuuuuhhhhhhh uuuuuhhhh.'” (Sound notated by “W W W W.”)
“Will, what is falling off of the Zombies?”
“They are wet and they drip when they walk.”
“Why are their arms out in front of them?”
“Because they need to feel where they go or they’ll fall.”
Will seemed perky this morning and asked to go to school. We brought him, with pillow to keep his arm up. An hour later, the school called, he was uncomfortable and out of it, and he was ready to go home. (FAIL.)
After dropping Will off at school, I went to Rouse’s to get snacks for my workshop today. I felt very on top of things, running early, getting food for everyone, and having somewhat of an idea of what I was going to do. Until I was out in Kenner, almost to the meeting site, when I realized my wallet was missing. (FAIL.)
After a panicked stop at a coffee shop for a phone book and a call to Rouse’s, who had my wallet, (WIN!), the truck clutch gave out in a major intersection. (FAIL.)
Thankfully, no one hit me, I survived near collision, and managed to figure out how to drive it the rest of the way. (WIN!)
At the advice of Paul, I managed to drive the car home. The conversation went something like this:
Me: “I almost died.”
Paul: “I think the problem is due to engine heat. You should be able to drive it home.”
Me: “What, to the morgue?”
Paul: “Really. It’s happened to me a bunch of times. It should be fine after sitting for a few hours, as long as you don’t drive it for too long.”
Me: (Silence.) “Well, okay. But how long is too long?”
Paul: “I dunno. Just don’t drive it long enough for the clutch to start to stick again.”
Me: (Silence. Pondering if I should write a quick will?)
Things perked up big-time when Emmy and kids brought treats for Will. Will had just woken up from a 5 hour nap (hello, drugs!) I’m not sure if he even remembers there was candy involved, but he hasn’t put down the card Ana made for him for one second.
One may think that this video is showing Will on drugs, but in truth, the meds had worn off. (He trips even heavier when heavily medicated.) This is just Will being Will. He’s telling me about teeth, why the fall out, and what holds them in until they fall out… with a surprise at the end.
Kids eating post-dinner pudding.
I do laundry.
Kate has used pudding as finger paints.
She has to get cleaned in kitchen sink before being brought to bathroom.
Paul: our little angel?
In bathroom, I’m dealing with pudding clean-up
and her clothes….
…and she removes pants to reveal the evening’s 3rd poop.
Her pull-up removal spreads poop everywhere.
Poop all over legs
Finally, she’s in the tub.
I wash her.
I am getting her out.
Will, who has been eating pudding this whole time, comes in.
He decided the finger painting was a good idea.
He’s painted his entire face with it.
And hands and arms.
It’s COVERING his UNIFORM.
Paul: I hope you killed him
Paul: he should know better
I rinse tub and refill.
He gets in.
I dress Kate.
I come back in bathroom to find Will with the soap.
Soap bottle is upside-down.
He’s squeezing the bottle.
The NOW almost EMPTY bottle
Because he’s emptied half of it
in the tub
They wait between the bridge and the bird island, very close to mediation walk. Not the only red ant mound in Audubon Park, but certainly one of the largest. So large that toddlers may find the urge to climb it.
She did it on Sunday, a week ago. Falling into the pile meant that her hands and knees took the most punishment. Little puss-filled bites are on her fingers on palms. A few trail down her legs. Paul was there in a second — we saw it happen before it actually happened — to beat the ants off of her, taking a few bites of his own. It was traumatic for all of us.
The sight of any bug, especially an ant, has become a terror for her — something her brother has started to exploit. (“Look, Kate, there’s an ant on my truck!” — “Oh no!” says Kate, promptly dropping truck.) Who knew Kate could develop a phobia?
We’ll see how long it lasts — and how long these take to heal. As for the ants, I’ve written the Audubon Park people… and I hope they blast those varmints to smithereens.
You know the story, right? International health... work all over the place... drag my kids around in sacks through villages in Central America... yadda yadda. I decided to go for another degree, so in 2004 we moved to New Orleans with no intention of staying.
And then *blink*blink* New Orleans is a completely different place and we just can't leave. Suddenly I'm on TV talking about immigrants and health and Paul is starting a company. Or two. His side is high-tech, mine is community health and our lives are yearly evacuation, regular celebrations, and nonstop work here, there, and everywhere. Our door is always open. I only ask that if you decide to go ahead and make yourself that mint julep, you make one for me, too.