Yesterday I was waiting to have some material cut for me at Joann’s Fabrics when I spotted a box of discount remnant fabrics. Since they are usually discounted pretty significantly I thought I’d take a peek. Right on top was a bright red material covered in red sequins. It took everything in me not to buy the quarter yard of red sequin material for nostalgia’s sake. You see, back in the day, I used to love to wear red sequins.

Little known fact to most of my blog readership (hee hee- I have a “readership”. That sounds so important.) Is that I used to put on the sequins and go sing and dance for people a few times a month. I know you’re thinking, oh my gosh! She’s an ex-stripper! Sorry, nothing that exciting.

I was in my high school show choir, Pizzazz. We were one of the good show choirs, not the lame ones that just sing off key and hardly move. We danced and we sang well enough to take first place and overall best in show in every competition we entered while I was a member. We did shows for school stuff, of course, but we also did company parties and concerts. We helped open a K-Mart once ( I know, I know, biiig time stuff, eh?) We did a television show for public broadcasting too. During the holiday season I was in a different hotel conference center every night singing for company Christmas parties. Valentine’s we did singing telegrams. One Easter we sang on a cruise ship in the Bahamas.

As completely hokey as all of this sounds, I really loved every minute of it. Here’s a publicity shot from my junior year.

I couldn’t find the shot I wanted to share. It’s not like I leave this stuff out or anything. I really only think about it when I stumble across red sequins at the fabric store. Since having children, I sometimes feel like I have a past life, because the past is so far removed.

Jonas has discovered that he can make Maggie cry by roaring at her. Jonas has been roaring at people for the better part of his three years, so getting him to stop for her sake is proving quite the task. Poor Baby!

This photo is actually from a few days ago- I feel bad taking a picture of Maggie when she is so scared by the roaring!

The other day we had to take Jonas to the clinic for a blood pressure test. Being the stupid people that we are, we figured that if Chris dropped Maggie and I off at the commissary to do a little grocery shopping, they would be back from the doctors about the same time I finished.

So, Chris dropped us off and we very quickly collected our groceries. I knew there was no way they were going to be ready for me, so I wandered the isles with Maggie for about twenty-five minutes before paying for my stuff and going outside. I stood outside waiting for almost a half an hour. Maggie was overheating and the milk was warming, so I opted to just walk home. We are only about 3 big blocks from the commissary, so it wasn’t too bad. Maggie was in her sling, so I had both hands free. Once I got home I tried to call the clinic to let Chris know where I was. Something was up with the phone lines, so I couldn’t get through. I took an incoming call, and then packed Maggie up in the stroller and walked back. We looked all over, but never saw our car. After another half an hour I told a friend to let Chris know we had gone home if she saw him. Then I went home and called the clinic again, this time getting through and being informed that they had just left. About twenty minutes later they showed up at home. Chris was not happy.

Apparently when he got to the clinic they told him to have Jonas sit still for a few minutes so the blood pressure reading would be accurate. Anyone who knows Jonas knows that unless he is unconscious, this boy does not sit still. After about fifteen minutes Jonas climbed onto Chris’ back and was being still. Then Chris felt something wet trickling down his back. Jonas peed all over him. Chris pretty much freaked out. They had to go to the bathroom to get Jonas cleaned up, and when they returned the technician informed them that he would have to sit still for awhile again before they did the reading. When they finally did it, the dummy tech had no idea if it was high or low, so we really have no idea where Jonas’ health stands.

Chris left the clinic, drove to the commissary and sat there for almost an hour before he came home. We never once saw each other. Of course, there had to be bickering about it too. Chris was mad at me, and I was mad at him being mad at me before he even knew how hard I had tried to find him.

Two days later we went to the zoo. We were all outside the big building. I bent down to put Jonas’ sandals back on and when I stood up everyone was gone. I assumed they had left the children’s zoo, so I went to the entrance (which is very close to where we were) and waited. After waiting a for a few minutes we spotted a cotton candy vendor, so we bought some and waited. Jonas, having gone without a nap, took a huge tantrum when I made him share the cotton candy with me. He screamed, flailed, threw himself on the ground, and turned himself into a sticky snot monster. I dealt with his fit for about twenty minutes before things calmed down. While we were doing this, a few people actually had the nerve to make loud comments to their companions, expressly so I would hear about how they NEVER tolerate crying, and tantrums NEVER work for their children. One woman had the gall to stare directly at me for about two minutes straight, shaking her head and tut-tutting. If I hadn’t been so busy calming Jonas down (without giving him the candy- I’m going for effective parenting here, I’m not trying to raise a brat) I would have gone over to those people and yelled at them. I realize that they have no idea that I am dealing with a child who is not only dealing with a developmental delay, but who has gone without his nap. The methods I am using to calm him may not be conventional, but they work for Jonas and that is all I care about. I cannot believe people would be so rude. There is so much they just didn’t know about. What if he was a child with Autism? Just because the behavior is erratic doesn’t mean that the parents aren’t doing things right. Part of me wanted to give Jonas to them and say, “ok- show me how you’d do it so much better.”

Finally, I see my father in law looking for us. Apparently they had gone down a nature trail and when they realized they had abandoned us, we had already left. Not a big deal, right? Well, to Chris it was a big deal. You see, while they were looking for me, Maggie had a big poop, and it wasn’t the kind that stayed in the diaper. It was the kind that shoots straight up her little back and smears the person who is wearing them in the baby bjorn. Once again, Chris was pooped on, and pretty ticked about it.

The interesting thing is that in both of these instances, Chris was mad at me, not at the person who had defecated on his person. It took me awhile to figure out why this was making him so upset, after all, we have been parents for almost three years. I’m used to getting pooped on in public places. I realized that Chris really wasn’t home much when Jonas was a baby. He was working and going to school full time. Then when Jonas hit toddlerhood Chris was away with military stuff for six months. Then Chris was working round the clock again. Suddenly, he is around more, so he is dealing with the poop and the pee and the vomit. He is just now adjusting. Welcome to parenthood honey. Glad to have you around for the ride.

It’s been an interesting couple of days. Jonas is killing himself, one body part at a time. He tripped over a tricycle and skinned his face. Then he burned his hand trying to help me boil rice. Then he got the same hand in the way his stroller spokes and managed to shave off a huge chunk of skin. When he went to the doctor for an appointment we discovered his blood pressure is quite high, so we have to take him back for extra checks on that to see if there is a problem or not. So far it is always high. Not good.

Then Chris decided to give Jonas a haircut. I had a bad feeling when I consented to this, but when I ran upstairs to say I had changed my mind, too much damage had already been done. Jonas was holding onto his head and failing screaming “Ears! Ears!” Because he had gotten it into his head that Chris was going to cut them off too.

By the time Chris was done clipping Jonas’ hair it looked like he had lost a fight with a weed wacker. Normally, this wouldn’t be so bad. But we not only have Jonas’ birthday party this week, but my sister’s wedding is right around the corner. June will be a photo-fest all designed to capture my hamburger-faced, weed wacker haired boy. Lovely. To sum up my reaction, I cried.

This weekend we spent a day with my in laws visiting the San Francisco Zoo. Then we left Jonas with them and went home to enjoy some one on one with Maggie and one on one with each other while Maggie slept. It’s been nice. I needed the break. We have been doing mundane things with renewed vigor and joy. It is amazing how much easier life is without the two year old in tow. Of course, I do miss him when he is gone. Life may be easier, but it lacks a bit of the flavor.

I decided it was time for a new baby sling so I picked up some material and made this awesome pink one! Then I had material left over, so I made Maggie some pajama pants. Now I'm tempted to go buy more material and make myself a matching pair.

A few women at church saw me toting Maggie around in it and wanted slings so I invited them over and we had a sling making party. I have a few more coming over next week. Now when we go to church it will look like a joyful sea of patterned flannel.

I suppose the sling and the confession of co sleeping makes me somewhat crunchy-granola, doesn't it? Oh well. Crunchy=Happiness and Peace.



Maggie was a bit caught off guard with the flash since I usually don't do that to her. Startled baby and crummy fake lighting pictures. It was 9 o'clock at night- what's a girl to do?
Peace out.

My hands smell of tomato plants. I just snapped a few weak branches off my plant to encourage new growth and when I smelled my hands I was suddenly seven years old running around the garden barefoot with sun streaked hair swishing in the wind. There were marigolds and gophers and carrots that I pulled from the earth, orange and delicious, to be eaten raw with most of the dirt brushed off. My mother was crouched to the ground pulling weeds and I was waiting for the gourds and pumpkins to be full and ripe. Beautiful.

What was the last smell that stopped you in your tracks?

When entering a military installation you are required to stop at the gate and show your ID. Up until a few months ago we had MPs (military police) checking the IDs. They were professional and perfunctory. They crisply saluted the officers, told people to drive safe or have a nice day or said nothing. It was all very standard and efficient. Enter the rent a cops.

To cut costs they have hired some rent a cops to help “guard” the gates. Of course there are still a few MPs toting M16s there, on the off chance a terrorist drives to the gate and starts shooting people, but most of the time you are greeted by the rent a cop. This would be fine, but quite a few of them have a false sense of power and grandiosity that make them, to be blunt, ridiculous. These guys are required to salute uniformed officers. It is not hard to tell who these people are. First off, they are in uniform. Now, a lot of guys salute anyone in uniform just to play it safe. I can understand this. It is safer to cover all your bases, and the general courtesy to everyone can be easier than ogling the person’s arm patch through a tinted window. (When I say salute, I mean that in the loosest term of the word, as when some of these people attempt to salute they look more like they are going to knock themselves out with a swift backhand. I’m not kidding. I should try to get a picture of this to show you guys. It is ludicrous at best.)

Here’s what I don’t get. Why is it that half of these guys salute (if the spastic arm movement can be called that) me? I’m driving up to the gate with two screaming kids in the back, and I am clearly not wearing a uniform. So why the attempted salute? Are they practicing? I guess that’s ok. They clearly need the practice and I can always use a laugh.

On top of this they have to comment on everything. One day our family pulled up to the gate and the rent a cop, let’s call him Porky because I think it is a good name for him, Porky, checks Chris’ ID, squats down to survey the passengers in the car, takes a long hard look at the two year old and infant and the woman with the wedding ring sitting next to Chris, then gruffly asks him, “can you vouch for the people in your car?” The only appropriate response to this is sarcasm, however, Porky seems to think himself rather important and will probably haul our butts to the office for a snide remark, so here is what we didn’t say:

“No, sir. You see that baby back there? That kid is perpetually packing C-4 in her diaper. Every time I change it I’m finding new explosive devices. Would you change her diaper and check for us?”

“No. That two year old actually has several aliases. The one he currently goes by is Hussein Alhir Osama Bin Laden Poopy Pants, and I am absolutely certain he has something subversive planned. Please take him and arrest him.”

“Yeah, my wife here? I’m really not sure if I can trust her on base. I mean, she has clearance, no criminal record, not even a traffic ticket, but isn’t it always the nice ones who snap and blow up air force bases? Take my wife, please.”

What we said was, “yeah.” Then we laughed and rolled our eyes at Porky all the way home.

The other guy who amuses us is the mumbler. The mumbler asks for not just the driver’s ID, but the passenger’s as well. This isn’t that big of a deal. However, when he gets the IDs he reads them aloud to himself, veeeery slowly and under his breath. Then I watch his eyes go back and forth between the two cards checking who knows what for two minutes while traffic piles up behind us and the baby’s crying goes from whimpering to hysterics. Jerk.

Now, of course there are a few rent a cops who are very efficient and who do their jobs well. They exchange a pleasantry or two while checking the IDs then send you on your way. I appreciate them and all they do to keep us safe. The weird ones I am going to thank for providing such rich material to blog about.