Birthday Parties

Two birthday parties in two weeks! Wow!

Tim turned 13 on October 5th. We celebrated with usual family celebration at home. Tim chose to have Indian food for his party, and the cake was homemade by Phil and Tim. Yummy!

His "kid party" was on Sunday at the Davis Mega- Maze. What a great time!! We had 12 boys for the party --- had barbecue, cake, a pinata, time to navigate the MegaMaze (can take hours!!!), and finally a water balloon fight using very cool catapults. We lucked out on the weather -- was rainy in the AM, but cleared up just in time for the party.

The most interesting part of the party from my perspective was the ride there and back with 7 12 year old boys. As an adult female, I am completely invisible and irrelevant to them, so I get to listen to all the conversation. Hmmm. I was relieved to find out that all of them still think Wierd Al Yankovic is better music than Em in em. I was glad when the ride was over --- it was LOUD! Tim said it was the "best party ever"!! (he says that every year.....)

Julia had her birthday the following week. She turned 8 on October 12. We had the family party on her birthday ---- Bupka (my mom) drove up for both parties! Julia wanted ribs for her party, so we had a huge spread from Tennessee BBQ --- ribs, pulled pork, bbq chicken, coleslaw, bakes beans, mashed potatoes, corn bread........ And her cake was store bought -- marble cake with yellow flowers....

HER "kid party" was on Saturday,m and was an indoor gym party at The Longfellow Childrens Center. 18 kids --- all ages 6-9. 16 girls and two very brave boys! They had an absolute blast! Lots of time for free play, some organized games and play with a parachute, pizza, cake, and more free play. We had 18 very happy, very tired and sweaty kids at the end of two hours.

I had a wonderful time at all four parties, and I am VERY GLAD they are over. It made for quite a hectic couple of weeks.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIM & JULIA!!! It is wonderful to be 13 and 8!

Fashion Statement

As a mom, you sometimes (always?) have to pick and choose what battles you want to fight. Usually, it is important to me that my children leave the house looking somewhat reasonable, and not too much like severly neglected street urchins. Today, that was not the battle I chose to fight.

Julia, age 8, woke up cranky. She had a little sore throat, and a tiny cough --- not enough to stay home sick from school, but enough to be a little miserable. It was one of those mornings when I wasn't sure I could get her dressed, put together (school bag, homework), and on her way without completely losing my temper. She was cold.....she didn't want syrup on her waffles.....she couldn't find her homework, then realized she had forgotten to do some of it.....she couldn't find her library book, and it was overdue....... EVERYTHING was a catastrophe resulting in tears.

I sent her to get dressed while I took a shower. When I emerged, already more than 10 minutes behind schedule, Julia was, in fact, dressed. Amazing! It was a pivotal decision moment though --- this is what she was wearing:

1. Silver fleece sweatpants (she had slept in these), about 2 inches too short
2. A hot pink suede belt (with sweatpants, no less!)
3. A blue and white striped T-shirt (also a little small -- some tummy exposed, so you can see the belt really well!)
4. Black patent leather dress shoes with white athletic socks (also clearly visible, because the pants are so short)
5. A long, V-neck magenta sweater with a hood
6. Purple fleece gloves

She looked like a rather well-fed street urchin. BUT, she was dressed, and we were both running late, and i KNEW even one critical word would result in another bout of tears.

So I made an executive decision and sent her off to school as she was. At least it was appropriate for the temperature outside.

Sometimes I wonder what her teachers think. Do they think she is neglected at home? Or just a creative kid given a lot of choices? Goodness, I hope it is the latter!!!

I wish I had a picture. But by the time we were finally ready to leave the house, we were both late and neither of us was in the mood to capture the moment.

Rats Loose in the House

Happy Friday.
Happy Birthday to Julia --- 8 years old today.
Two rats loose in my house.
The day didn’t start out exactly as I had hoped this morning. It is 6:30 AM at the moment, and I am compelled to tell my story right away to those of you who might appreciate it.
Since it is only 6:30 AM, a lot has already happened in my day.

Frieda and I have been talking about blogging. Yesterday (I think) I told her that I really couldn’t do a blog because my life is pretty routine. Nothing much happens. What would I ever write about?
I may have to rethink that today.

I was awakened from a somewhat fitful sleep at 5:20 this morning. I heard Tim’s door open, and then the dogs (who had been sleeping with him) came flying out and jumped on my bed, very excited. They were almost immediately followed by Tim, yelling “Get up! Get up! It’s an emergency!” An emergency? Seemed like a perfectly quiet rainy Friday morning. But who knows what constitutes “an emergency” to a 13 year old boy. So I opened my eyes, fought the dogs off me (they are now excited and both trying to lick my face), and sat up. What could it be?

“The cage fell over in my room, and the rats aren’t in the cage!”

Oh, no.

I realize, suddenly, that Tim’s pet rats --- Cleopatra and Hepsepshute – are loose in the house. Or worse (worse?) they have been captured and killed by either the dogs or the four cats. This house is a treacherous place for rodents.

I can’t even describe how motivated I was to get out of bed at that moment. Nothing like knowing there are rats in your house (or an awful mess to clean up) to get you out of bed.

Tim’s rats have an enormous cage. It can hold A LOT of shavings. A lot. They were all over Tim’s room, and tracked into the hall. No sign of the rats. No sign that the rats had been captured either. No blood. No dismembered tails. Just lots of shavings everywhere.

Tim and Julia and I grab flashlights and get down on our hands and knees. Under the bed….behind the desk….under the heating vent --- no sign of rats. (Keep in mind, Tim’s room – as is probably typical of most 13 year old boys) has a lot of STUFF in it. Lots of potential hiding places. No sign of rats.

Tim goes to the kitchen and gets a box of crackers. He starts putting crackers out around his room. “Maybe we can lure them out,” he says, “or at least they won’t starve if we don’t catch them.” He seems surprised when I vehemently object to FEEDING the rats that are apparently still alive and running around in the house.

Finally, Tim says, “Maybe they’re behind the bookcase. They always try to get back there.” I look. The bookcase is heavy, heavy wood. Packed with books, trophies, rock collections, toys, batteries, bits of whatever it is boys collect. It doesn’t look like there is any room behind the bookshelf – it is pretty snug against the wall. Can rats fit into a space less than ½ inch wide? I remember a hamster loose in my childhood home ….. we found him after several days. He seemed to be able to squeeze into any space. So maybe…? Is it possible I hear some scratching from behind the shelves..? But first we will have to take everything off the shelves……

We start hauling stuff off the shelves. “This is good,” I think. “I’ve been meaning to help Tim clear out some of this stuff.” In 5 minutes, every surface of Tim’s room is covered in stuff from the shelves. Well, except the rather large sections of the floor that are covered in soiled aspen shavings.

The shelves are heavy, but I manage to wiggle them forward about 2 inches. Sure enough – success! Both rats are there ---- but not for long. There is a little bit if scuffling and a few slapstick moments as the three of us (Ben is still sleeping) chase the rats around this now-extremely-cluttered room. But we catch them, they are safe, and they are no longer loose in the house.

Tim has a big mess to clean up. There are shaving everywhere, and they don’t vacuum well. He will have to pick most of them up by hand, and then vacuum the rest.
He objects to this, “It wasn’t MY fault the cage tipped over,” he protests.

We have a lovely discussion about the difference between “fault” and “responsibility”, and the fact that if something is your responsibility, then “fault” is irrelevant. I am not sure he gets it at all, but he is still cleaning up shavings, grumbling.

The bus comes in 10 minutes, so I think he will be buying lunch today --- even though it is junk food.

It is now after 7:00, and I need to get moving myself.

Maybe I should start a blog. I might find something to write about.