Drops of Awesome

I’m funeraling and the family’s all together. I’ll be back in a couple of days. I don’t have much coherent to say about what’s been going on. Tons of emotion, very little sleep, much of driving, a few fun moments, mostly overwhelming.

Blog out.

Think Fast! It’s another Tuesday where I will require that you think fast or don’t think at all. I want your favorite or current favorite children’s book of all time. Don’t think too hard, just suggest one. Just one.

Okay, just this once, in my grand beneficence, I will allow you to give two suggestions. Here are mine:

1. Big Bad Bruce by Bill Peet — This is a favorite from when I was a child. I could not get enough of this book.

2. Chicka Chicka Boom Boom by Bill Martin Jr. and John Archambault — We use this book as a warm up for our Daring Family freestyle rap battles. We wore out the copy Grammy sent us and I bought a new one… at a real bookstore… at full price. I know. I am insane. It was worth it.

As you can see, I only like books by people named Bill.

Your suggestions can be by people with other names… I guess… if they’re REALLY good. You can include anything from board books to Young Adult reads. Go!

Dan does not like to eat certain things, things that contain flavors, or as he calls them “tongue scorching flavonoids of misery and possible death.” (He has never actually said that with his lips. It’s more in the facial region of expressivity.)

I grew up having jalapeno-eating contests with my dad and drinking Tabasco sauce by the spoonful, like any normal child. Dan, on the other hand, shies away from many of the simple culinary pleasures of life.

Besides bypassing “cranky” foods (Laylee’s word for anything from Altoids to salsa), he also gives the thumbs down on squash, mushrooms, several sea-foods, pig’s feet and anything low-fat.

Until recently I have thought he was a bit of a wimp in the eating department, a strange departure from his usual manly, Rambo-like nature. Then I heard about Supertasters.

Supertasters are people with an unusually large number of taste buds on their tongue. They truly, physiologically “can’t take the heat.” He has not been officially diagnosed with this… disorder?… but I feel confident that if I blew up that picture and a picture of my tongue, he’d have a veritable gold-mine of the little buds in comparison to me.

The word Supertaster sounds like a heroic power, like he should be able to taste and enjoy food more fully than the average citizen. But in reality, it causes him to miss out on so much of life. He is literally crippled by his over-active taste buds, unable to perform even the most basic nutritional tasks, such as feeding himself Brussels sprouts. We weep for him.

But now the question arises — is he a super hero or just a poor handicapped guy forever doomed to eat bland versions of Thai food that could have been scrumptious, given the proper peppers and spices?

If he’s a super hero, hooray! Having a plethora of extra body parts beats the ability to eat scores of malted milk balls any day (until now, he considered this to be his only claim to super-herodom).

If he’s simply handicapped, then we should get one of those blue stickers for our car so that my super-power will grow to the point that parking spaces really can become the complete focus of this blog. How nice it would be if I never had to think of anything to write again. Every day I’d just post a picture of Vinny, parked in the special wife-to-the-severely-tongue-impaired parking spot at Fred Meyer and call it good.

Yesterday we had another hair-cutting extravaganza, my first since the mullet incident. At this point the layers have grown out to a length I am more comfortable with and I have learned to listen to my stylist when she tells me a particular cut might end up looking like a mullet. She KNOWS.

I just got a trim but Laylee got the real fun. We decided to give her a fun summer hair-cut. We went with a Julia Roberts in Hook pixie-cut. She was amazingly calm through the razor cut and very excited to tell daddy that she looked like a pixie-fairy-princess girl.

I love the way it turned out but considering her age and lack of womanly curvage, it’s a given that she will be mistaken for a boy at times. I spent the afternoon talking about how she looks like Tinker-bell and what a cute fairy she is.

Then Dad gets home.

Dan: Wow. You got a new hair-do!
Laylee: Yeah!
Dan: What kind of hair-do is it?
Laylee (very excited): It’s a BOY haircut!

At which point, Magoo waved his sweet little girly-finger-wiggling wave from the high chair and I busted up laughing. So our daughter is excited that she could pass for a boy and our son waves “hello” like Paris Hilton. Yippee!

And then in a moment of uncanny timing, a gift arrived in the mail today for Laylee from Peter and Heidi of the Tutu Boutique. Our little princess fairy pixie Tinker-bell got to wear the poofiest, most gorgeous dress-up item she’s ever had on her body and remind herself that she’s still a girly girl.

A while back I mentioned their business on the site because I like them, expecting nothing in return. Then they sent this “poof” and a fun princess crown and shirt to thank me for the mention. How sweet is that?

Take that High-End-Children’s-Clothes-Store-Employee-Who-Thought-Laylee-Was-A-Boy-Today. Heads up: if you want to earn a big sales commission from me, upon finding out that my child is female, please do not ask me if she cut her hair herself.

Policy note — I have recently been getting offers of free products or discounts to promote things on my blog. I want to make it clear that I would be happy to do reviews but I will be totally honest, even if you send me free stuff, so be warned. You may not like what I have to say. I don’t want people wondering if I’m getting something free in return when I mention a book or product so I promise to always let you know. And again… the honesty.

One last thing. I thought you’d like to see this. Taken this afternoon. Yes, the force is still strong with me.

Today Blackbird is asking to see the street where we live. So here we go. This is one of my favorite shots of our street:

Then there’s this:

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This is technically across the street from my house, a little walking trail. Laylee calls it the Bambi forest because we’ve seen deer there. One of our friends lives on the other side of the Bambi forest, so this is the way we walk to play dates.

I never want to move from this location. Hopefully by the time we outgrow our condo, we will be able to pass a city ordinance, allowing us to demolish it and build a bigger house in its place… assuming the neighbors don’t mind.

I spend a lot of my time waiting. I wait for Laylee to go to the bathroom, for the water to boil, for the doctor to “see me now.” I wait.

My grandma spent 20 years waiting, waiting to die, waiting to be with her Joseph again. His name was constantly in her mind and on her lips. She sure loved and adored him. Especially in her later years of dementia, she called for him constantly and begged to go herself and be with him. She waited.

For the past few days our family has been waiting. We’ve been waiting for our aunt and dear friend J to leave this world so we could all start waiting to see her again. As of a couple of hours ago, the waiting is over and now it begins again.

Her husband can wait to learn what “normal” is without her. Her children, including a son still in grade school, can wait for the urge to call out for their mother to subside. Her granddaughter doesn’t know she’s waiting yet. She will learn.

Now I wait for someone to find a cure for cancer. My mother-in-law refused to wait. From the minute Aunt J was diagnosed, Pam has been searching tirelessly for some little-know cure, calling specialists all over the country.

I wait for understanding. Every person I have loved who has been diagnosed with this disease has been taken by it. Every one was a wife, a mother and a much-needed friend. In a way I feel like I’m just waiting for the next person to go.

When I tried to explain death to Laylee, who is still waiting for me to stop crying, I told her that we knew Aunt J’s spirit had left her body but that she is with Heavenly Father now. She is no longer in pain and she is happy. I told her we were still sad because many of us on earth will miss her.

People always talk about the deceased person being happier where they are. I wonder, does their heart ache for their loved ones the way we ache for them?

Laylee asked if we could please please go see Heavenly Father too. She did specify that if she goes, she wants Dad, Mom and Magoo to go with her.

No waiting for any of us. It sounds like a plan.

While I was busy predicting the outcomes of hockey games, teasing my younger brother and worrying about the competence of my mom’s obstetrician, Dan had weightier matters on his mind, like food, kick soccer and how glue works.

Dan shared this with me after we were married and I found it so hilarious that I had him read it to me in the hospital when I was giving birth to Laylee. Here is a small sampling from his elementary school journal:

September 14, 1988
Today I had a pretty good day today. At recess I played kick soccer. My team won. Yesterday i[n] the lunchroom some girls partly unscrewed it so if someone used it, it would spill. Then a kid from another lunch table came and took the ketchup to use it. He came back with ketchup all over his hand!

September 15, 1988
Today, I had a pretty good day. We played kick soccer again and Tony argued with everything…We had spaghetti for lunch today.

September 23, 1988
Today we changed the day around. Math was first… Today at lunch we had coco milk rolls, fruit and some kind of pasta thing with lettuce. We played kick soccer again today. Last night we made bread and peach pie filling. It was good!

September 27, 1988
Today everything went pretty normal. Today we had burritos for lunch.

October 4, 1988
Today we had chicken nuggets for lunch… Kickball was boring at lunch.

November 8, 1988
Last night I figured out why things stick (I think). First of all why does wood fibers or anything for that matter? Of course we all know that it’s all the atomic energy acting upon themselves and others. They (atoms) also work with magnetic forces. Now, I think glue works because it is neutral or else it’s energy can adapt so that it sticks to other particles. So that’s all about particles and whatnot. By the way, we moved our desks into twos. I think Bush will win.

“Today was a pretty good day today” is now a common phrase around our house. I think we should also end all conversations with the phrase, “So that’s all about particles and whatnot.” Yes, I would have married him just for the journals. Do you know how much it hurts to laugh when you’re having a major contraction? Yeah, me too.

I keep getting spam email that says they have “just the thing to make your girl happy. I almost want to click on the link. Maybe they have a good deal on My Little Ponies or Popsicles or people who push swings REALLY HIGH.

Another thing that makes my girl Laylee happy is a good birthday celebration. She throws several a week for various friends, real and imaginary. Every day used to be Ducky’s birthday but now the celebrations are spread between Laylee, Babs, “The Other Snow White,” and any of her other favorite friends. Somehow, it never gets to be my birthday. Hmmm… I may have to look into this. Perhaps the Daring Family has also stumbled upon the elixir of life and ageless beauty. I will keep you informed.

Besides me, it seems that nearly everyone has a birthday sometime or other. What are your great suggests for birthday celebrations? These can be kids’ birthday parties or you can branch out to include us older folks.

This Tip Tuesday was inspired by Lei and Mir. Lei posted about a great party a while back and Mir got me thinking about alternative birthday ideas. I love her perspective and the thoughtful way she teaches her children about charity and service, even on a day that’s traditionally all about the birth-ed one.

For the most part, I am a huge fan of a home party with a theme. One I’m thinking of doing comes from my Post Partum Dr who, when we got sick of talking about my brain chemistry, gave me some advice about child rearing. He’s a big proponent of make believe and allowing children to have a magical childhood where they are encouraged to believe in things that they can’t see that just might be true.

He told me about a fairy birthday party he had for his tween daughter. (No, as far as I know they didn’t eat any beef at the party, but I do want to point out that I am now listed as the 2nd result on google when you search for the words “beef” and “tweens.” My wildest dreams are coming true through this very blog.) They went out into the forest and found sticks and twigs to make tiny fairy houses in the woods. They told fairy stories from American folklore and even the most cynical in the bunch left with a spark of magic in their imaginations. I love that idea.

Another great idea that seems even greater now that I have kids is to send your mother a gift on your birthday. She’s the one who really deserves it.

Now you go.

Until recently, Magoo has woken up every night of his life at least once to nurse. Sheesh! What a BABY! When I couldn’t nurse him for a few days, we decided that Dan should be the one to get up with him in the night and offer a bottle.

The first night Dan was supposed to get up with him, Magoo slept 13 hours through the night with nary a peep. He has not woken up since. Well, that didn’t sound right. He wakes up every morning. He just doesn’t wake up in the night anymore.

On the one hand, it makes me think that he must really like me and only wants to get up if he thinks I’ll be there for some cuddlin’. On the other hand, I wonder if I’m raising a little chauvinist who thinks men should not be troubled with unmanly things such as child-care and feeding.

Further evidence of this theory is found here. When Dan tries to feed him, he falls instantly into a narcoleptic state.

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I let Chris in on my little secret for getting your baby to drop the late night feeding and it appears to have worked for her too. I’m thinking of conducting a seminar or writing a book on the subject.

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After reading this, Dan informed me that Magoo HAS woken up a few times in the night since Daddy took over the graveyard shift. How was I supposed to know? I was asleep.

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