The Witching Hour

I had been thinking about this entry for a while. I've been meaning to recognize a certain time of the day that no matter how well the hours leading up to it are, it always turns into chaos. It starts right after picking up J from the bus stop -- around 3:30 -- and continues until Daddy walks through the door between 5 and 5:30. Sometimes even beyond that.

J walks in and throws his backpack and jacket on the couch; he's pumped up and hungry. M is starting to get tired but gets her second wind as soon as she sees that her partner in crime has arrived. I'm convinced that at the same time there are witches somewhere in my house brewing up some type of concoction -- sort of like a happy hour special -- that they serve to my kids. And then they're off: Together they raid the "food closet" for snacks, they open up cartons and bags, and walk around the house eating and laughing all while leaving a trail of crumbs in their wake. They go up and down the stairs, terrorize his room and the bonus room in .2 seconds flat. Sometimes they giggle, sometimes she cries, and always she stands at the top of the stairs yelling "Oad-Ju" until I comply and go up the stairs for the 67th time today to Hold You!

This is dinnertime, People! And just because the Bonnie and Clyde mini-me's will have no appetite left after their job on the snacks, Mommy and Daddy would like to have a decent meal. And I gotta cook it. Right Now!

Today's been one of those days. M woke up early and cried, J was doing his usual-annoying screeching sounds that this morning sounded twice as annoying, and I didn't have time to dry my hair so it went curly all day. That in itself makes for not only a bad-hair day, but a bad day in general.

Around here, there's no better light at the end of the tunnel than sunlight, and this afternoon we got a little glimpse of it so M and I went to run some errands while J was at school.

We made a rare stop at Old Navy and I noticed the yearly flag tees had arrived. I had forgotten that July 4th is only a month away due to the lack of the aforementioned sun. The shirts have kind of become a tradition around our house in summers past and both of the kids get one every year. I picked up two and headed to Trader Joe's to buy more snacks to torture myself and my home with. I bought more than usual today, even bought some we hadn't tried before. I know that once he's out of school and he's home all day long, the munchies will have to be plentiful around here. Maybe it was the sun shining and the purchasing of the t-shirts, but I was in a summer state of mind.

When I got home and after picking up J, I was going to write a post about that. I arranged all of the edible purchases on the counter together with the shirts so I could take my picture. All of this was so fascinating to M that she climbed on the stool, probably more to see if she could grab some of the goodies and run without me noticing than to actually see the display, but as she did, she fell off the stool and onto the floor on her back. She's okay, but the camera that came down with her isn't.

I think my camera is broken -- or at least the part that takes pictures is, the part that lets me transfer out is okay. I had been talking about getting a nicer camera and then decided that I would do no such thing until I learned everything there was to know about the one I have. Now I may have to and I'm pretty bummed about it.

I am, however, very thankful that it was the camera and not M that the witches' brew got the best of today.

But we must beware. There's always tomorrow. And anything is possible during the Witching Happy Hour.

Rain Rain

GO AWAY!

Don't you know it's now past May?Welcome to June in the Pacific Northwest.

I've always been one of those people that like the rain. So when we got the call to move to Oly, I was more than excited. We were going back to the West Coast and a little rain wasn't going to stop us. The truth is that there's other parts of the country that get more inches of rain per year than we do, but they get them all in a few months. Our drizzles go on and on for what seems like forever. As a matter of fact, it's been raining on a regular basis since October.

Since our move here, I've heard it said several times that summer doesn't start until July. I was hoping they were exaggerating.

And then this morning I looked outside and saw what is perhaps the most telling picture of all:

J's lawn chair, usually used for picnics, games, and outdoor relaxation, has been relegated to nothing more than a birdbath of sorts.

I hate to complain about the weather when otherwise living here has been a wonderful experience for our family.

I don't know how long it'll last --

both the rain and our status as denizens of the Evergreen State.

I just hope we see some sunshine before the moving trucks roll up.

Tales From the Hood

Our family loves hoodies. Whether a zip-up or a pullover, cotton, fleece, or nylon, the material and hardware are of no concern. If it has a hood, we like it.

For his birthday alone, J got five of them. For Christmas the month before, he got three. He has 14 hanging in his closet and another six in his drawer.

How many hoodies does a six year old need for one season?

I'm pretty sure it's not 20.

But that's the thing. Here we are at the end of May and we're still wearing them. All the time. I'm pretty sure we'll continue to do so for at least another month and on most evenings throughout the summer.

M has her share as well. through hand-me-downs, gifts, and purchases she racked up quite a few of her own.

And if she has her way, she'll continue to wear her "Jah-Jee" even when the mercury hits the 90+ mark. It's a right of passage for her. A passage that leads her out of the house and into exciting places like Target, Safeway, or Costco.

Once her Jah-Jee and "shoos" are on, the world is her playground.

I asked Santa for a hoodie last Christmas. Santa looked everywhere for the one I wanted. I was very specific. It had to be just like the one I had purchased for J: a lightweight, North Face fleece. Santa didn't find it. He found several other North Face jackets, but the lightweight one he found didn't have a hood.

And Santa knew that wouldn't do.

He found a comparable one at REI and paid too much money for it. But he's gotten both his hard work and his money's worth. I love the way it makes me feel so warm and toasty without all the bulk. I know I'll be wearing it for years to come!

Daddy is a fan too. In fact, he may be the one that deserves the credit for recruiting the rest of the family. He has an old black Nike pullover that he's had since I met him. It can almost be called gray now, yet I don't think it's going anywhere soon.

If hoods could talk, there would be many a tales to tell. Lucky for us they don't. Even if they did, our hoodies wouldn't let us down. They're our friends. The friends that you can always count on to wrap you in their comfort and make you feel happy inside.

Sometimes the occasional rat hangs out in the hood.

But our hoodies would never rat us out. The rats are just that. Rats. Rats that like hoods. And who can blame them? In the gangsta world they're referred to as Hood Rats.

Where can we sign up?

One Wish

If I had one wish it would be that just for a couple of minutes I had absolutely nothing to do. Every single moment of every day there's potential for something to be done. It doesn't mean it gets done, it just means that if I'm not doing it, it and its many counterparts will be waiting to get done eventually. Something's always gotta give around here because If I'm doing this then that is being neglected.

Yesterday I had an awful migraine and so I sat on the couch doing pretty much nothing all morning. It's at times like that, when nothing is getting done, that I realize how much I do do throughout the day.

All right. My minute for complaining is done. I think I'll take another to do nothing before I set off for the next 60 to complete my chores.

I Rest My Case

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury,

The circumstantial evidence has always been there: She yells one minute and laughs the next. She's pouting now.......and now she's not.

I had planned to consult an expert witness, somebody with the training and experience that would come in and explain to you how the accusations made against Ms. K are possible. This expert would break down in layman's terms how Ms. K is wired and how that wiring causes the changes in her demeanor.

However, through the technology of a camera lens, I am now able to provide you with the type of evidence that lawyers like to call Heaven on Earth. This type of evidence is also known as direct evidence. The evidence will prove that Ms. K has bouts of temporary insanity throughout the course of the day; that her expressions can sway from sheer disgust or sadness to crazy, yell-out-loud happiness in a matter of seconds.

In my hands I have Exhibit 1. This is a picture taken of Ms. K on the evening of May 16, 2010 at approximately 5:54 pm.

It is evident by the look on her face that she is disturbed by something. Something has caused Ms. K to enter into a state of unhappiness that has consumed her world.

Next I'd like to call your attention to Exhibit 2. Exhibit 2 was taken on the same night, May 16, 2010 at approximately 5:57. A mere three minutes after Exhibit 1 was shot.

Here we see Ms. K indulging in some sort of activity that has made her scream with delight. And in fact, her father, Mr. K, will testify that he was just outside the frame shooting a water gun at her at the very moment Exhibit 2 was taken.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, does this look like somebody that's sane to you? Please don't be swayed by her cuteness. The girl is crazy. It is your job as the triers of fact to reach a unanimous verdict based on the evidence and the evidence alone. In this case, the evidence speaks for itself and that should make your decision to find Ms. K guilty of Temporary Insanity in the First Degree beyond a reasonable doubt an easy one.

Thank you.