Surprises

I have two really great surprises brewing around my brain.

The first one is for Creed and is coming to fruition this weekend.  He's going to flip.  I'll take pictures and tell you all about it on Monday. 

The second one is going to take a few months,  and it's for Roberto.  He is going to think I am a dork.  He already thinks that.  Anyway, apparently, dorks are cool.

Over and out.

Punjab! Buy out the eight o'clock show

I adore going to the movies.

Did you know that about me?  

I went by myself to see Napoleon Dynamite opening weekend at the Broadway Theatre, along with about eight other people (nobody was there because nobody knew what it was when it first opened) and I laughed my guts out.  Gosh.

"Sitting in the darkness, popcorn on my knee, welcome to the movies, Rosie, wait and see!"

I'll go see almost anything, I love it all.  Slapstick comedy?  Yes.  Heartbreaking tragedy?  I'll bring the tissues.  Action/Adventure complete with car chases and gunfights?  You bet.  I'll take your romantic comedy, your family fun, your zombie infections, and your brilliant animation, hollywood, and I'll enjoy watching every minute.  Even if the movie is terrible, I love cataloging what was bad about it and figuring out how I would make it better.  

If it's bad, I usually blame the editors.  They can make or break a movie, in my opinion.   The movie editors are the unsung heros and villains of film making.  (Except in the case of The Happening.  How M. Knight Sham-a-lam-a-ding-dong could turn Mark Wahlberg and Zoey  Deschanel into bad actors is beyond me.)

But I also love the soundtracks (Hello?  Vanilla Sky is unpredictable and enchanting in its use of music.  "I'm pickin' up good vibrations, she's givin' me exite-ations . . . " so, so good.)  I adore a well choreographed car chase or action sequence.  I get chills as I watch sweeping shots of landscape to set the scene for an epic story of love, good vs. evil, or historical triumph and despair.

Are you convinced?   I love the movies.  And last night I thought Hugh Jackman* was flawless, Anne Hathaway was gorgeous, and I didn't like Nicole Kidman's feathers by her boobs.   

I'm so glad the musical is back*.  Man, I'm a sucker for a musical.  

Thank you, Hollywood, for a return to good old fashioned entertainment, gorgeous gowns, and a few hysterical moments.  

Did you watch?  What did you think?

*If you missed it, just go to www.youtube.com and search for "oscar opening" and "hugh jackman oscars."  Hopefully you can find the clips because they are so worth watching.

Reconsidering

I was a much better mother before I became one.  I knew exactly how I was going to raise my children to be happy, honest, hard-working, compassionate citizens of their worlds.  I could (secretly) see what the mothers around me were doing wrong and take note so that I would not do these things when my time came.

This method worked well for a number of years.  Even, a little bit, after I actually became a mother.

For example, when McKayla (1 1/2 years old) was hitting my three year old son on the head with a shovel, it wasn't that big of a deal to me.  He didn't seem to notice that every once in awhile as they sat in the sand together, his little friend was was whacking him in the head.  I thought "why should I make this a bigger deal to me than it is to him?"  So I watched.  Soon, her mother,

 who was heavy with child, started yelling at her.  From across the playground.  When McKayla didn't respond, she marched up to her daughter, grabbed the shovel, and proceeded to hit her on the head with it all the while saying "There!  How to do you like it?  It's not fun being hit on the head with a shovel, is it?"  Meanwhile, Jack finally started paying attention and was captivated by the sight of his friend's pregnant mother whacking McKayla in the head.  I wisely filed the scene away and I have never hit my child on the head with a shovel.

My experience in Student Family Housing is a gold mine of parenting pearls.  

Recently, however, we have evolved (devolved?) into a band of ragamuffins.  My daughter has had public meltdowns that would put Britney Spears to shame.  My son cannot sit still in church and has actually been in fistfights with his siblings as we entered the chapel.  I hand my baby off to whoever is closest so that I can put out the (figurative, for now) fires that are igniting among his older siblings.  Some days it's all I can do to keep it together until 7:00 so I can send them all to bed with a sigh of relief.

Last week I took them to the Art Center because this is on display.   You would have thought I had taken them to participate in a UFC Fight at Chuck-E-Cheese.  It was a nightmare.  Not to mention the uncontrolled giggling and peeking between two fingers at the huge painting of three Naked Ladies that was on display as we exited the elevator on the third floor.  It was a good thing I didn't have a shovel with me.

(First I tried to take them on a Monday, but it was closed.  We returned on Thursday.)

I now have a new parenting plan.  From now on, or at least until Robert is done with his I.C.U. rotation, we are not leaving the house.   Our days will consist of sitting around and scratching ourselves.  I am digging out my stretchy pants and my favorite books and hiding under my covers.  I plan to throw baloney and raisins at them when they complain that they're hungry.  Please send Diet Coke.

When I started typing today, I was going to let you all know that I have changed my mind about cereal.  For years I have only stocked Cheerios, Mini Wheats, and Wheaties.  Lately I've wondered "why?"  Why can't we have Froot Loops, Lucky Charms, and Reese's Puffs?  They are all fortified with vitamins and minerals, and some are even made with whole grains.  My kids aren't in danger of obesity-so I'm switching.  Because the answer to over-active kids is clearly, bowls full of sugar.

Obligatory photo of the babe.

Breaking News

Sara (my sister) is a mom!  She and Ryan are the happiest clams on the beach.  

Her water broke at the house last evening at 6:45 pm.  Baby boy was born this morning at 3:13 am.  

5 pounds, 8 oz 

19 1/2 inches long

lots of dark brown hair

no name yet

Sara is doing well.  Baby is four weeks early and spending some time in the Newborn Intensive Care Unit.  

Hooray for Ryan and Sara!  I can't wait to meet the little guy.

Post Script:  Grant Paul is out of the I.C.U. and doing well.

Girl meets boy

I wanted to marry him after our first date.  (The events that led up to the first date are a fun story for another time.  They include a rockstar jailbird best friend/boyfriend combo.)

Diary excerpt: (and yes, it is a diary, not a journal.  This thing is so full of mushy falling in love crap, it is sickening.  Are you surprised that I'm a hopeless romantic?  Sara, don't answer that.)

July 6, 1996: Tonight was magic, pure and simple.  I will probably be thinking about Bob for the next couple of days (that's an understatement).  I could easily spend the rest of my life with him and never look back.  Here's an added bonus: he's hot!  If Bob asks me to marry him someday, my answer is YES!

He thought I didn't like him at all.

I called him for a second date (because I just couldn't wait for him to call me).  

This date involved roller skates, my little brother, one of my best friends and his Madonna Emmaculate Collection, a Buick LeSabre (pronounced le-say-BWA) and a 45 minute drive to the nearest town with a roller skating rink.

Robert spent the evening skating with Eddie while Mark and I practiced our moves on the rink.

I was desperately in love.

Robert says I was sending mixed signals.

Our third date was his idea.  And it involved swimsuits.  

This time his little brother came with us.

Also, his ex-girlfriend (who didn't understand that she was now his ex) and her friend.  

She asked him to a movie right in front of me and he accepted.  Right in front of me.  Now he was sending the mixed signals.  

However . . . 

I soon accompanied him to his family reunion.  

The apex of the family reunion was a talent show. (Have you seen Dan in Real Life?  LOVE-d it.  Did you notice they were playing Celebrity Challenge?  Do you play?  Want to learn?  Come over!) He serenaded me with this song: 

Some people think we're rushin' it, we need to take more time.

It hasn't been quite long enough for us to know it's right.

But they can keep on worryin', and I know they prob'ly will,

Cause if I live a thousand lifetimes, I know I'll love you still.

It's not enough time for them, but it's enough time for me.

I've known you long enough to know I always want to be

Together when we're workin', together when we play

Together when we wake up with the worst breath of the day.

I don't want to be eighty-two, with anyone else but you.

I don't want to be old and grey, unless you're with me all the way.

And when I lose my teeth and hair, 

If you still love me I won't care.

I don't want to be eighty-two

With anybody else but you.

Zippity Doo Dah

Guess what I just did?  I opened my windows!  It's 9:47 am and 77 degrees.  Weather like this is just what the doctor ordered.

I'm going outside now.  The sunshine is an old friend with whom I need to reconnect.

Melancholy

I enjoy most days spent with my brood.  We have a great time navigating our way through familyhood.  I also have great friends here in the middle of the country on whom I can count for most anything.
Sometimes, I just miss my sister.