Drunk rant

I I am fairly certain someone slipped me A mickey. I am so cinfised as to why they would do that and also , they gave the drinks to hieu so I am Just confused. But, needless to say, I fell into the pickle juice. i just tired to read what I wrote and. It made sno sense. But in my head it did.

I have to wash my hair. Thank you auto correct. You know you fell in the pickle juice when you are grateful for auto correct.

A tale of two play dates

Each of my kids had a friend over today for a play date.  Each play date is typical of how all their play dates with friends go.  

Tallulah's friend C________ came over.  They went upstairs and played something.  I am not sure what. They played quietly for two hours.  When it was time to go they fussed and didn't want it to end.  I reassured them that they could play again another day, but whining would not help their cause.  They accepted.  And then I took her home.  

Typical Tallulah play date.  

We picked up annabelle from band camp, ate lunch, cleaned up and got ready for her friend to arrive. 

Tallulah and I were peacefully  engaged in counting her money and sorting it by its mint date.  She told me just seconds before he arrived "what could be more fun than this?" 

L_______ gets here.  He has brought a metal detector and a bucket.  (These are the kinds of kids annabelle likes to play with.  Boys that have metal detectors and buckets)

They metal detected.  They played mag formers.  Then they enlisted my banker/ coin collected buddy to join in their mayhem.  

As I folded clothes, I heard screams and phrases like "get the secret weapons" and "let's put on our power shoes."  Then this boy barges into my room, apologizes and tells me he has to hide. He has two lint brushes in his hand.  I am folding my bras.  Before he has time to see what I am doing, annabelle comes running in with two combs that are covered in duct tape and has duct tape wrapped around her wrists ( side note: annabelle believes in  and adores duct tape the way Mexican people believe in La Virgen--She knows it can fix anything, has collections of it all over the house and carries some with her at all times).  They have a dagger fight with the brushes and the combs?  There  is screaming and laughing as he is transported to the jail.  There is running all over the house as he escapes from jail.  He runs back in my room and slams the door.  The girls haul him out again.  Meanwhile, I am having cramps and have now moved on to folding dish towels.  

I hear the vacuum cleaner going.  I check to see what's  going on.  Annabelle has spilled bird seed.  They have decided to train the parakeet.  Apparently the boy trained his grandmothers parakeet.  About this assertion, I am dubious.  The training is happening with the vacuum cleaner running and Sunshine in the room.  I convince them to turn off the vacuum and kick the dog out and I notice that each kid has their hand covered in duct tape because apparently the bird likes to bite. 

I go to the bathroom to see that in the thirty seconds that she has been out of the room, the dog has pooped on the bath mat.  I call Tallulah over to pick it up.  She takes one look at it and says, "I didn't do that."  

I hear the bird squawking  and the  kids yelling.  They say they need a net to catch the bird.  Tallulah has picked up the poop and is taking it to the outside trash can while holding her nose in extreme disgust.

She comes back in with a minnow net.  

I hear more screams and then "I've got it! I've got it."

The dog and I are currently  hiding in the living room.  

School starts in four weeks.  I wish it would never come....  

I know

I know that we went to a water park today.  The kind with death defying slides, a lazy river, snacks, a wave pool, a surfing area, and a height requirement. 

I know that we were hoping Tallulah was finally tall enough to go on all the rides.  I know that Tallulah is all in for this sort of thing, and wants to go a millions times and has no fear.

But I know that I didnt really think she was tall enough.  Or heavy enough.

I know that there were death defying slides.

I know that my aunt died in November.  

I know that I can't believe she is gone.

 I know that put her picture by the piano today and saw books that she gave the girls today.  I know we were talking about her on the way to the water park. I know annabelle begged us to stop becuase it was too sad.

I know that I saw Tallulah wave at me before she went down. I saw her and her friend wave at me.

I know that I was three tubes behind her.

I know that her tube got stuck when it came out of the Shute. I was watching, to cheer her on.  

I know her friend fell off.  But was still on the slide.

I know that Tallulah fell off, but fell over the slide.  I know because I saw.  I know what I saw. 

I know I can run fast.

I know I can scream loud.

 I know that when I saw her sitting up, surrounded by life guards and good Samaritans, she was probably ok.

I know she was crying hard.  I know her head looked really weird.

I know she asked if the other girl was ok, between her sobs.

I know that some people on earth right now, are living saints.  

I know my friends would take care of annabelle. 

I know the paramedics wanted to take Tallulah to a hospital nearby.

I know I trust texas childrens more.

I know I can drive really fast. 

I know that I can drive on the shoulder in an emergency.

I don't know if I believe in guardian angels.

I know that Tallulah survived a six to seven foot drop off a slide with velocity, landed on concrete and is just bruised up with a concussion and a severe hematoma. 

 I know mostly trust doctors. 

I know my husband can be a calm guiding force when he wants to be.

I know Tallulah is in her bed, sleeping peacefully.  

I know that Tallulah survived. 

But I don't know how.  

The problem with public school....

Well, there are many.  And I could write an entire blog.  There are also many things that are going right, but I have really been thinking about a lot of things lately, and I have decided to write them down, just to make myself feel better, so here is my rant for today:

Annabelle just took her first starr test.  It was no biggie.  She wasn't stressed.  She actually said she was excited about it the night before.  At the beginning of the year, she asked me why she had to do it and I explained it to her like this:

" there are some kids, who struggle in school.  They can't read very well, they can't add, or maybe even count.  You don't know them and they don't even go to your school.  But we need to find out who those kids are and help them.  Their parents may not know, or may have struggled in school themselves.  You will do fine, so will everyone on your class and in your entire school. ". 

She accepted this and moved on, no further questions or worries.  

But after Monday, I asked her, "how was it?" "It was easy,"  she said.  That made me feel good.  

But then this:

"they didn't even ask us half the stuff Ms. Chadick had us work on the entire year for it.  They only asked us one capacity question."

So let me get this straight--we have been working on passing a test, designed for people of average intelligence for the ENTIRE year.  My kid takes same test that a kid whose parents just crossed the border last year and can barely speak English.  That's fine, I get it, I am not anti- standardized test.  But my kid has to be taught things for this test the entire year? 

And then my school which has gathered gift and talented kids from across several neighborhoods gets to crow about how great their scores are?  They gathered smart kids, put them all in the same school, taught them how to take a test for average kids, and then they get to pat themselves on the back because they did well on the exam???

Who can I complain to?  The school?  They say they are doing their job.  They like winning blue ribbons and getting recognition.  The district?  Who would I even call in that monolith?   My state rep?  I am sure he'll get right back to me, right after they figure out which bathroom we can all go in...

How can I say, you are dumbing us down?  You're dumbing down the smart kids, you are terrorizing the average kids, and the below average kids are still falling through the cracks.  

Who really cares? 

When there is something...

Sometimes, I think there is something different about Tallulah.  Besides being awesome and amazing, like everyone thinks their kid is, every once in a while, I think there is something else.

Hyphen has always said that she gives the best hugs.  He calls them lu-lu hugs. He asks for them every day because he says he feels so much better afterward.  And this, in itself, or the fact that I think her little pats and affections are particularly soothing, would be no big deal.  

But her teachers say the same thing.  Her pre-k 3 teacher told me several times, how if she was having a bad day, she would give Tallulah and hug and feel so much better.  "It's weird.  But I really feel so good afterward."  Her pre-k 4 teacher also told me that she gave such good hugs.  After hearing this a few times and experiencing it myself, I told my mom about it.  Of course, to her Tallulah is a saint.  Clearly her favorite...not at all fair to the other three.  "Well, there ARE saints living among us."  

I am not so sure about that, I don't recall Saint Francis stomping as hard as he could on his sister's foot, like happened on Monday, but, could be. 

Today, she had a field trip.  So after it was over, we checked out of school early, and headed to the police stable to feed the horses.  We hadn't done that in a while, it was more of a pre-k activity.  Lately, though, it seems like we are missing pre-k.  There is a lot of, "I just want to be with you, mama.... I just want to spend time with you."  So we went today to feed the horses carrots.  There was one that was skittish, and didn't want to be petted.  He kept turning his head away.  

Except when Tallulah came by.  He turned his face toward her, and was still and calm while she stroked his tremendous cheek.  

So maybe this is a thing.  Maybe this is something.

Alice lives here now and my dog crapped in the car

I haven't written in this thing in over a year.  Primarily, because at night, I am so damn tired, the only thing I can bring myself to do is become annoyed with people I haven't talked to for 20 years on Facebook due to their political leanings.  I write every night in my head, while I lie down with the girls.  But then, I fall asleep after about 2 minutes and stagger out of their room at 10:30, only to find a husband sleeping on the couch with Fallon jabbering in the background.  Then, cue facebook.  It's a terrible habit, but it makes everyone happy... well, two of us, so in an effort to curb this, I have been trying delay tactics or I go on a walk with a friend.  That usually gets Tallulah to give up the ghost, and then I just have to deal with the thinker--"Mama, I think I am going to invent a machine that"...blah blah, I can't hear it, I am asleep.  

But Tallulah is not as happy with this arrangement as I supposed.   The other night, I went on a walk and hyphen put them to sleep.  Then next morning I found out from annabelle that Tallulah has another mom named Alice.  She lives behind the back corner of her bed.  She only comes out when I am not there or don't put her to sleep.  Mommy Alice has light brown hair that is curly at the ends.  She has brown skin kind of like Tallulah's, and she is about Tallulah's size.  She doesn't have a birthmark.  She is very nice.  Although I don't know mommy Alice, I have to say, I really like her.  

It's too bad she can't do more around the house though.  Like today, when I dropped the dogs off at the boarder.  I am telling the boarder how cute the little dog is, how she steals things and hides them.  How she likes to play keep away with the girls.  How when I bring Tallulah to drop her off, Tallulah cries and cries.  It's all so sweet.  So damn sweet, until I get back in the car and it stinks like a two week old bag of raw shrimp that got left in the beer fridge. I look in the back and see two small dog turds.  I could have really used mommy Alice's help right then.

I am about to be out of the pet business.  That was it.  So I had to clean them up and this is the kind of crap, literally, that makes me tired at night.  

It's a vicious cycle.  My dad told to at least be grateful.

It could have been the big dog.  

What o did over my summer vacation II-- bigger, badder and with more dog turds....

We left off with a new puppy-- who is still not potty trained, but that is another story.  

Since hyphen is  lazy about getting me gifts, I cajoled him into a family camping trip in lieu of a Mother's Day/ anniversary present.  Colorado.  Cool weather in August. Beauty.  Peace.  Tranquility.  

He agreed, partially because he wanted to buy a space trailer, because he can't travel in the van if it's messy(there is a phrase for this, I think it is known in the medical community as bat shit crazy).  So we had this new puppy who we couldn't board, two wild children,a bunch of camping gear, and a dream road trip, if you like road trips, which I do.

Drive to canyon tx, see the texas show in palo duro state park, leave the next day, drive to colorado. Arrive.  Enjoy the mesa verde national park ( where we were staying) on Monday, whitewater raft on Tuesday, train trip on Wednesday, head to another camp ground higher in the mountains for the rest of the week.  Come home on Saturday.  Done.  Perfect vacation.

Until the vacation gods decide to take a big, big crap on you.

We got to canyon.  We ate at a cafe.  We were going to get ice for our coolers, when the van crapped out on us.  The same van we had spent tons of money on earlier in the summer to get ready for all these road trips. 

Now Canyon is in west Texas.  And it is hundreds of miles away from the hustle and bustle of Houston.  It is one of those places where nothing is open on Sunday. Or much past five on Saturday.  We managed to pull into an o' Riley auto parts right as they were closing.  Alternator.  Nearest place to fix it was in Amarillo, but the next day was Sunday and there was not a lot open.  The show at the state park was starting in 3 hours.  The girls were getting worried.  Numerous phone calls were made, including one to my dad, who went to college in canyon, and grew up not too far from there. 

Through the miracle of small towns, his sister has a friend in canyon.  A stranger gave us a ride to the hotel, and hyphen a ride to Amarillo see about a rental car and car repair shops.  I called my aunt's friend.  My conversation went like this " hi, my name is Stella stevens, I am e------ n------ niece."  His taciturn west Texas reposnse?  "I'm sorry."  Ok.  So this dude gave the girls and I a ride to the show.  He's totally getting a christmas card.

Long story short, we got the car fixed on Sunday.  Which was our anniversary.  I am leaving out the part about how the firestone in Amarillo was out of power for a few hours, but that doesn't matter.  It was fixed.  And at four o'clock, we were on our way.  We decided to stay at a Koa in Santa Fe.  On our way, I share with hyphen what I learned from my aunt's friend while he was taking us to the texas show--there was some kind of chemical spill in silverton, which was affecting the river downstream in Durango, and that white water rafting may not happen.  Just some toxic sludge.  Thanks EPA.  

We arrived at the Koa, in the dark of night.  Ever pitched a tent at night?  Don't.  Got up the next morning, packed up and enjoyed downtown Santa Fe, which is lovely, and I will move there some day.  We continued to Durango, all the while calling the whitewater rafting place, trying to figure out what was going on.  We decided whitewater rafting was probably not going to happen, so we tried to find a place that would take us horseback riding.  And when I say us, I mean Tallulah.  The minimum age for most outfitters was six.  I started  my conversations out like this "I've got a kid who is almost 5, we won't say she is 4, we will say she is almost 5..."

We arrive in Colorado on Monday afternoon, but notice that the car is still acting funny.  We make camp, and as we head for the showers, I notice I can barely turn the wheel of the van.  We decide that it is better to spend Tuesday trying to fix the car.  So we spend a fair amount of Tuesday at a Firestone station, then we decide to check out the train station, and I call the dog kennel to confirm our reservation for while we are on the train ride the next day.  Turns out that whoever took out reservation, despite the fact we discussed my puppy's age, did not have to authority to let us go there.  The puppy was too young.  So we scramble and beg and cajole before we find a private, in home, dog sitter who will take her.  They are my fb friends now.  We are also scrambling to find a horseback riding place, since the river is totally contaminated.  We find a place that doesn't care about 4 year old kids being safe, get on the horses, and then, it starts to thunder.  And thunder some more, but the horse people assure us, that the rain always goes around the mountains.  Twenty minutes later, I am soaked to the bone, and laughing, and my guide says "I guess you must like rainstorms."  Not particularly, but there was nothing else to do at this point.  

But may I now just say, that riding horses with my family in the San Juan mountains in Colorado, is my most favorite thing to do in the world.  

On Wednesday we drop the car off again to get some power steering thing fixed, while we have our train excursion.

I saw real waterfalls, falling off the sides of mountains.  Real waterfalls.  

By the end of the day, the car was fixed.  And we were exhausted.  We decided to stay in Mesa verde, we saw in the indian ruins on Thursday, and on Friday, we headed home, a day early, because I needed a break from my Mother's Day/ anniversary present.

But now, if I want to feel peace, I think of my horse ride.  My horse liked to be last, so I was separated from the girls and hyphen.  This made me nervous at first, but once I saw my tiny, but mighty, Tallulah guiding her horse, controlling her horse with her reins--like a natural horsewoman, I stopped worrying at all.  I just started enjoying.  And this scenery has replaced that one spot on frio river, the one with the blue clay bottom and the cliffs, as the place my brain likes to go to calm down.

Hyphen drove the whole way home, and as we drove home through New Mexico, we listened to that old Paul Simon song, hearts and bones, which although sad, somehow perfectly fit where we were.  Tell me why, why don't you love me for who I am where I am?  Becuase that's not the way the world is.  This is how I love you babe. This is how I love you babe. 

And now we are back on our busy street. School has begun, soccer games tomorrow morning, ballet, CCE, funrun stuff, get kids up, make breakfast, make lunches, laundry, clean the house, shuttle children, puppy crapping every where but the grass, PTA meetings, homework, friend with new baby, funrun kickoff--just the slings and arrows of raising kids in 2015.  And that is just my list.  I am not running several multi million dollar businesses.  That is someone else in my house.

So forgive me for looking back through the cracks in the door, for thinking about when we were free to wander wherever we chose.  And while I am not ready to laugh about the griswoldian vacation, I do notice that we never said one harsh word to each other during it.  

But annabelle, annabelle who reads joke books before bed, sees the humor.  Her back to school essay went something like this, " our car broke down.  The epa spilt chmcals.  It rained while we rode our horses.."  There is a picture of a black car, an orange river, and a horse who looks to be pooping....  I am filing that in my keep forever folder.  It's a real folder I have upstairs in the attic, not to be confused with the one I have in my heart.