timing


Way back when my darling husband and I were dating he aspired to be a standup comic. He is a rather funny story-teller and does have a rather wicked sense of humor. Me, on the other hand, I seem to lack the ability to tell a joke. I like to imagine that I am funny but ever since I was a little girl my attempts at humor are usually answered (rather sternly) with, “That’s not funny, Laura!

:::sigh:::

Bill tells me the key to being funny is all in the timing…and he tells me that in a way that I can’t help but laugh even if I know the punchline too well having heard it for thirty years now.

But yes, good timing seems to be something that I am not always graced with.

In other news…Zoë is here!!!!…Under the Big Top!!!!…ALL WEEK!!!!….SURPRISE!!!!

Oh my glob, everyone here is so happy to have Zoë here because we love and miss our Zoë so much. Driving home Sunday night from Davis, I imagined all the things I would do with my Zoë while she was visiting all week long. So excited over this surprise…so very, very excited!

But I have been sick. I have been barely able to get up kind of sick since Monday afternoon; which is so awesome when it is the last week of school for two of my clowns and my darling Zoë is here to visit. So I tried to power through making my sick tea and toast (as moms must do) taking my kids to school and dance and attended awards’ assemblies that are what happens the last week of school…and I would collapse in a snotty, hacking, feverish heap.

Timing…it is all about timing…

Zoë spent time hanging out with her sisters, her Dad, making lunch and dinner for her nieces and her mom, playing Candyland with her brother and riding her longboard (which one can carry on the plane I have learned). Meanwhile I might have blown my nose so hard that I blew out some brain cells. I might have had an emotional meltdown or two or more as well because I do not do sick very well and I wanted to spend time with my darling daughter who lives much too far away from me. Unfortunately the cold meds and the struggle to just breathe proved to be too much and I slept. I slept a lot. I slept too much.

But today, Thursday, was a new day. Sure I couldn’t breathe and my eyes are red and watery and I feel like a truck ran me down but my fever broke. There’s that. I didn’t get to go out and enjoy a sushi lunch with my only child who will enjoy sushi with me much less share sake with her now that she is 21, but I was determined to spend some time with my girl one way or another before I have to take her to the airport tomorrow. We went to Target to stock up on cold meds for me (and for other family members who now are starting have the same symptoms).

Whoo-hoo!!! We do know how to party!

And, because it is all in the timing, I proposed that my five children gather for a picture. I let them all know Thursday morning that Thursday afternoon, after Hollie came home from work, before Jodie had to go to dance rehearsals, before Abby had to go out with friends to see The Hangover 3, before dinner, they should all be ready for me to take their picture together. No big deal. I just wanted to get a casual picture of the five of them all together.

No big deal.

No big deal my watery eye!

Getting a picture of my circus act is always a big deal. When they were little it was a matter of keeping them all clean and neat and catching them all sitting still together and (hopefully) all smiling.But nowadays it is a matter of planning…extreme planning and making sure that everyone has ample time to be hair and wardrobe ready. Sorry parents of young ones, it doesn’t get easier or better.

But the results are worth it…

once you get them all together…

and lined up…

and get them to stay still.

I’m afraid that is something that will always be a challenge.

Thanks kids for cooperating for all of ten minutes for the mamarazzi. Love you all. Love you all so much.

patient…fine…balanced…kind


Another weekend, another dance competition.

:::back of hand dramatically to forehead:::

Oh the life of a Dance Mom!

It can be hard sometimes. Like when the competition is being staged this weekend at UC Davis while three of the colleges here are also staging their commencement ceremonies. There is traffic, crowded hotels and at least one hotel manager who seemed to be super annoyed with the arrival of guests who want to check in and prepare for graduation ceremonies and dance competitions.

Putting on stage makeup in the hotel lobby because your room will not be ready for another couple hours, around the time you have to be at the competition ready to take the stage, is just one more thing that will annoy the hotel manager.

Whatever!

You do what you have to do and you don’t let it break your concentration.

Not at all.

And the reward for being patient and fine and balanced and kind is a platinum for your solo and a platinum for your tap duo.

How cool is that?!

Oh and this picture, that smile of my darling dancing daughter’s…I am so glad for all the orthodonture we paid for over the years for her because that smile is perfect.

Congratulations Jodie. Two dances down, four more, plus Hazel’s, to go. You’re off to a great start.

 

 

if it’s love


Ear worm in my head right now…

While everybody else is getting out of bed
I’m usually getting in it
I’m not in it to win it
And there’s a thousand ways you can skin it…

I confess you are the best thing in my life…

If it’s love
And we decide that it’s forever
No one else could do it better…

Then suddenly I hear something else…

Chirp…chirp…chirp…

I walk through the Big Top listening carefully…

Chirp…chirp…chirp…

Damn these smoke detectors!

Chirp…chirp…chirp…

Found it!

It’s in one of the kids’ bedrooms. No problem. I grab the step ladder and a 9 volt battery and (BOOM!) I replace it.

Chirp…chirp…chirp…

Seriously?!

Honey, can you please check the smoke detector in Daniel’s room. It’s chirping.

Now?! (it’s 9:45 at night, bedtime for someone who has to get up at 4AM)

Yes, now.

I replaced that battery two weeks ago.

Well I just now replaced the battery and it is still chirping. Maybe I put it in wrong or something else. Can you please check it?

:::grumble:::

Seriously, honey. I know you’ll have no problem sleeping through that chirping all night but I know that I won’t and neither will Daniel. Can you please just check?

So he checks…with a little bit more grumbling…but he does check and it chirps no more.

Thank you.

Yeah…

Where was I? Oh yeah…

If it’s love
And we’re two birds of a feather
Then the rest is just whatever
And if I’m addicted to loving you…

Getting ready for bed, my little ear worm is interrupted yet again. There’s a damp bath mat on the floor in front of the shower.

UGH!

Really, how hard can it be to pick it up and hang it over the shower door, I grumble to myself as I pick it up. I want to shout it and wake up my darling husband but…

And you’re addicted to my love too
We can be them two birds of a feather
That flock together
Love, love
Got to have something to keep us together
Love, Love
That’s enough for me…

For thirty years now we have been loving and annoying the hell out of each other. That’s a very long time…a lifetime…our lifetime.

If it’s love
And we’re two birds of a feather
Then the rest is just whatever

If it’s love
And we decide that it’s forever
No one else could do it better
And if I’m addicted to loving you
And you’re addicted to my love too
We can be them two birds of a feather
That flock together
Love, love
Got to have something to keep us together
Love, love
Got to have something to keep us together
Love, love
That’s enough for me

Happy anniversary my darling husband. It’s been quite the adventure the last thirty years what with raising five clowns, including the one who decided to be born on our anniversary 17 years ago…Happy birthday Jodie!...and driving each other crazy with honey-do lists and leaving wet towels on the floor. But we are definitely in it to win it together.

Now if only we had the money to celebrate it properly.

Oh well.

Happy anniversary my love!

a cautionary tale


Parents, isn’t it fun to dress up your little darling children? It is. It is indeed.Oh the oh-so cute little dresses and sailor suits and t-shirts and shoes and hair styles and…if you have more than one darling child…the match-y, match-y siblings look.

A total win! People can totally tell that they are all sisters. And the first born isn’t resentful at all over the fact that she is dressed just like her barely-potty trained sisters because she is a mature, confident third grader and totally trusts her Mom’s fashion choices…like dressing her kids exactly alike.

Heh!

But it gets better. At least Mom imagines that it gets better.

No, we are not match-y, match-y but we are awesomely Gap coordinated. Weren’t the 90s just too stylish?I think so. Hollie, on the other hand, believes that this is just photographic evidence that her mother dressed her funny on purpose.

Whatever!

Oh, and in case you are wondering, Bill is smiling in this picture. He is smiling on the inside. Don’t believe me? Ask him. He’ll tell you.

But I digress…

Parents, while it is truly, truly fun to dress up our children not unlike the way we used to dress our Barbies…or our GI Joes.

Did boys dress up their GI Joes? I don’t know. Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t.

Whatever…

Parents, be careful how you dress your babies because it will come back to haunt you with all of your babies’ judgement and angst and bitterness when they are all grown up.

This.

This is evidence enough.

 

discovering why


Picking up Jodie from her job teaching dance to under-privileged kids for Give Every Child A Chance I found myself delayed thanks to an unexpected traffic delay…chickens.

Chickens?

Yes, chickens stopping traffic on French Camp Road.

Sorry, I’m late picking you up.

That’s okay, Mom.

There was traffic.

Traffic?

Yes, traffic. Chickens were crossing French Camp Road.

Chickens?

Yes, chickens. At least I now know for sure why the chickens were crossing the road.

Why?

To get to the other side, of course.

And I wonder sometimes why I annoy her. I do. I really do.

Hopefully those chickens are safe from the pack of wild dogs that are attacking livestock in the farming community of French Camp.