Ten

This will be a quickie post in honor of my mother's birthday. So far, ten has been the theme for the day. Work started at 10 am. I began with a meditation session which was ten minutes - when I was done, it was 10:10 am. Before work, I purchased a bottle of sake (rice wine) for a mini celebration this evening. It was ten dollars. Okay, ten-dollars and ninety-five cents - stay with me, here.

Yes, we are planning a small celebration so that she may either A, blow it off or B, attend and say it's lame or C, get ripped and throw up in our living room. There is always the option that she may actually enjoy a quiet little shindig.

My husband and I call her the "Crazy Lady." And she's an Aquarius.

So, that last option is highly improbable. And when my husband and my mother get toasted together, she always starts beating him up. I do nothing to stop her. He deserves it. It's funny how the smallest people cause the biggest injury. Samu did a number on Daddy the other day when Daddy teased him relentlessly. Samu's kicks to Daddy's calves were ineffective, so Samu lifted Daddy's shirt and scratched his back with razor sharp nails.

Little people...don't f*ck with them.

Getting back to my mother, or Baba as my boys call her - if I had to find a saying that describes her - it would have to be, "It's not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog."

Man, does she have a lotta fight. It's what keeps her looking young. I should be taking notes, but she never gives me a chance to take my boxing gloves off.

Ding! Round Ten. Happy Birthday, Baba.

My mom & 2 glasses of champagne

Mission: Impossible

This is awesome - I've been tagged by a really cool mama, Kim at "The G Is Silent". She was tagged and answered 11 questions and passed on the glory to her dysfunctional group of bloggers. Ah, the price of popularity.

Nobody wants to know this much about me, but Kim does - so, I'll oblige. And because I don't want to break my streak of breaking Chain mails, and yet would feel guiltier than an adopted daughter who forgot to send a Valentine's card to my Jewish mother, again...I'll oblige. With a twist of my own. Instead of eleven questions, I offer eleven prompts as a blog topic - please cover ONE at your convenience. But you hafta cover one and no, I won't hex you for not spreading the disease.

And if you don't have a blog, you do have to submit a two-hundred word essay on canary yellow memo paper that lawyers use. Illegal size is okay.

Kim's Questions:
1.  Have you ever played an instrument?  If you haven’t, what kind would you like to be able to play? The only one worth mentioning is guitar. I'm bad ass. Or so I've been told. No "easy listening" Jewel or Jack Johnson stuff - I play music that doesn't sell. Apparently.

2.  What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleeping and why? Thirty-two hours the day I flew to Japan and went out drinking all night with my sister, her husband and my cousins after I got there. Why - because I was a zombie.

3.  If you could be a fly on anyone’s wall, whose would it be and what would you hope to learn? I'd like to be a fly on Hugh Jackman's wall, find out once and for all if he's gay.

4.  What are 5 items in your home you could not possibly live without? Beer, pretzels, Samu's favorite pizza, beer and Pub Mix.

5.  If someone popped by your house unannounced right now, what would you be most embarrassed about? Not answering the door.

6.  Honestly now – Do you watch any of the Kardashian circus? No, because I can watch whores that are tricking on Sixth Avenue in person.

7.  If you could be famous for anything, what would you want that to be? That I got paid for being stupid.

8.  Who is that one person from your past you would most like to connect with but you either don’t remember his/her last name, don’t know her married name or just can’t find on any searches? A good friend I just stopped talking to for no reason. Or a reason I can't remember now anyway. I left him at CBGB'S without saying goodbye. "Goodnight, Fred."

9.  Who is at the top of your “list?”  You know, the one you’re allowed to stray from the marriage for. If Tim Finn ever showed up at my door, my husband would be dead to me.

10.  What’s your preference:  Phone call, text or email? Do you mean for sex? That would definitely have to be snail mail - I'm a sucker for love letters.

11.  Do you have a new/newer/newish laptop that you just have no need for and you want to send to a family who currently has only one working computer, and it’s a work computer and really isn’t supposed to be used for anything but work but is currently being used for this blog right this very second? Yes. My personal assistant, who looks like The Rock, is on it right now.

Thanks for enduring that slice of mediocrity. Now for Mission: Impossible - pick a prompt and don't be shy. When you post it, I'll be sure to link it here so that all the world may see what blogging geniuses my blogger friends are.

1. Tattoos: Will they remain fashionable forever? How will you handle your kid getting one? And if you're kid-less, how would you handle your dog getting one?

2. The worst boss or teacher you ever knew.

3. Who will play you in a movie about your life and how will it end?

4. What's going to be your retired look when you're as old as Betty White or Dick Clark?

5. You're allowed to loot for a day - any city, any store and you don't have to fight zombies or rabid dogs.

6. The world is at peace - what comes next, boredom or mayhem?

7. What drink goes best with a luscious sunset?

8. If you could take credit for writing one book, composing one song and accomplishing one life achievement what would they be?

9. What famous people share your birthday and what traits do you like or dislike that you have in common?

10. A mistake or regret you hope your kids will never repeat.

11. You are commissioned to write the story line for "Where The Wild Things Are," for the screen. Let's pretend the Spike Jonze version never happened - we never made it to the end, anyway.

The Impossible Team:
Maureen: Tatterscoops
Ava: Grapes And Oranges
Diplo Daddy: Educated Abroad
Bridget: Twinisms
Megan: Best Of Fates
Tricia: Critters And Crayons
Michelle: And Lily Makes 3
Trinity: Real Life Reslers
Grace: Mama Grace (where have you been, girl?)
Last but not least - the gal who got me into this club: Kim: The G Is Silent

Hymn Of The Schedule Battle

Every stay-at-home parent faces this question at least once in their career, "What do you do all day?" Although, I admit, my husband's been smart about not asking that question - I do get asked from complete strangers. The audacity, right? Usually I tell them that I go bar hopping after shoe shopping and they know to avoid asking me that question again.

After reading Megan's quirky entry at "Best Of Fates", where she posted a snapshot of her awkward schedule and visiting Bridget's hilarious post at "Twinisms" on why she was so tired - I decided, why not pile on more evidence? Just to show you how good your life is.

05:53 am  My eyes snap open. I await an onslaught of some sort
05:57 am  Still trying to go back to sleep but I'm sure a little guy is going to crash my bed any sec
06:05 am  The alarm goes off - I curse the lost 12 minutes of sleep
06:20 am  Ten minute workout with husband farting throughout the ENTIRE thing. STIN-keee!
06:45 am  The battle begins!! And goes on until I drop the suckers off @school
08:45 am  Jot down a "To Do" list and ignore it completely
09:00 am  Write, check emails, pay bills and stare - just stare - at the mess in my house
12:00 pm  Realize I can't have lunch because I haven't gone shopping and starve
12:01 pm  Set up manuscripts to send in for rejection notices
 2:20 pm  Pick up the Air Head and begin the homework battle
 5:45 pm  Pick up "Piss Pants" a.k.a. Samu and begin the dinner battle
 8:30 pm  Put the demons to bed and say, "Don't give me any crap tomorrow!"

But of course, they do give me crap because I wasn't specific enough. Same day - different battle hymn. As for the attempt to make myself look noble, you know, the 'manuscript' submission thing? Yeah, well it's like saying I'm sending out my resume to an electronic job posting (which I have done). Useless, yes, but it feeds my delusion so nicely.

With my day typed out like this, you may think me productive. Organized even. But I assure you that nothing - absolutely nothing - gets done on time around here. Well, except beer o'clock.

Farting The Sound Of Music

Samu's been singing before he could talk. Unlike his big brother, Samu can actually carry a tune. The Air Head, although he has a memorable husky voice, follows a melody sounding like Bob Dylan being birthed by a rhinoceros. It's painful entertainment.

Recently, Samu's been singing "My Favorite Things" from The Sound Of Music. Who knows where he's learning it, the Kindergarten Glee club perhaps. After school programs make kids do the weirdest things.

Naturally, boys can't leave well enough alone. After stamping the tune into their heads, they decided to play with the lyrics and change it to some of their favorite things.

Raindrops on roses
And whiskers on kittens

Became:
Fart, burp and poopies
And boogers and buttocks

The adaptation went on. And on. Rodgers and Hammerstein must be turning in their graves. They should be proud, however - they got my numbskulls to goof off at 3/4 timing. Not an easy time signature.

When they were done bastardizing that song, we moved on to another classic: "Saturday Night," by the Bay City Rollers (there's a trivia question).

I figured it's also a good way to teach them how to spell Saturday.

So I chanted the chorus, "S-A...T-U-R-D-A-Y...NIGHT!"

Then I asked them, "What does that spell?"

"Turd!! No, no, no..Turdy!"

Honestly. I'm not even gonna go there with Aretha.

Bay City Rollers: Saturday Night

Show Me The Proce$$

Despite the fact that I didn't go to college, I've given my boys no say in the matter - they are going to college. Should they challenge me when the time comes, their alternative will be to enlist with the Israeli Defense Force. I think the boys will make the right decision given that choice, don't you?

But the way schools are re-focusing their agenda, I'm hoping they'll be enthusiastic about pursuing higher education anyway. In my day, the cookie-cutter standards were based on memorization. It's why I loathed Social Studies - who cares about the Gold Rush or the bubonic plague? How come they never mentioned the Flintstones or Little House On The Prairie?

Algebra, on the other hand, piqued my interest to no end. The mysterious X factor. Trying to figure it out was all consuming. When I learned later on that algebra isn't so much math, as it is a creative problem solving process, it explained why I'm always getting ripped off at the cash register.

But that's where the school's are headed now. Critical thinking - show me the process. It's called the "Common Core," and if your kid is anywhere between Pre-K through sixth grade, you've been hearing about it. Unless you're in Alaska or Texas where I assume survival is critical thinking in itself.

According to a parent workshop I attended, by 2014 all state testing, in forty-some-odd states, will incorporate the new format.

In a nutshell, it's read, process and react.

This sounds easy, but believe me, I've worked with a few twenty-year old kids who had trouble multi-tasking.

Go tell the boss his client's here and bring back the stack of mail.

"Whaaaat? How'm I gonna do ALL that?!"

Critical thinking. We're starting to teach this in America now? My generation is so screwed when it's time to retire.

In the meantime, here's what I've learned that can be done to prepare your kids. Read. A lot. Interact and ask questions, kind of like Dora, only you don't have to blink as much - or stand deathly still until they answer. Help them articulate and formulate their answers because by the time they're in third grade, they're going to need to write a best selling essay.

I asked the literacy coach how much handwriting and spelling counted - she said, "Not as much as sentence structure."

Phew.

"But they have to clearly articulate their thoughts."

Oh. So, when Zuki writes stuff like, "I throwed him the the scinse," or "Can you buyed me u wach," we need to work on that.

A Good Thing

You know those cliche scenes of the protagonist being the last to be picked for a team? Well, that never happened to me. It's not that I was popular, it's that most city schools don't have yards to play in, we have stuffy, stinky gyms. We're lucky if they're not co-ed and even then, it's overcrowded. We don't play Dodge Ball because that would be like target practice encouraging drive-by shootings or gang beatings.

Of course, I'm exaggerating. We all know drive-by shootings happen in L.A., not New York but that doesn't stop me from avoiding Chinatown on Chinese New Year. The Chinese mob are notorious for shooting everybody except the target and what better time to practice than Chinese New Year? Happy New Year, by the way.

But again, I'm delaying the topic. I'm here today to talk about a good thing. A very good thing. It's called a Read-A-Thon and it's a fundraising event that's been introduced to Zuki's school by the current PTA team. The object is for every student to pledge a set goal of books to read and get sponsors to donate towards the goal.

Isn't it a fantastic idea?

We're not pushing candies to diabetics or knickknacks to hoarders to raise money. We're reading books. And with the money, we can replace the lightbulbs. No actually, we're replacing worn out books. An idea that's foreign to our local library, apparently.

Also, the drive appeared in the January 13th issue of the Woodside Herald but that's not the exciting part. The real news is: I wrote it. Yes ma'am; my first published piece in print.

And I'm working on my best Jerry Lewis impression just in case they need a spokesperson for TV.

Beauties And The Midget Beasts

The boys met Rebecca and Melissa - pictured here. These beautiful girls are the daughters of very good friends who moved to New Zealand when the girls were wee tots. The reason this meeting was so special to me was because of who was missing - my sister.

Long story short: my sister died thirteen years ago and I've had very little or rather, no contact with her daughter. My niece and Rebecca were best friends when they were babies. They're the same age, so seeing Rebecca now, is a reflection in time of how my niece must be doing.

I feel like their aunt by association - approximately five degrees of separation. These lovely ladies are not my daughters but because I like to take credit for things I didn't do, I am so proud of them. The boys, especially Zuki, are totally in love. I'm glad he has such excellent taste. They're smart, gorgeous and entirely so sweet, my teeth are rotting thinking about it. Damn, I'm really getting old.

Rebecca (Zuki/Samu) Melissa