6 reasons why I'm a real adult now

in no particular order, other than the order that they squeaked out of my brain

1. I take my car in to the dealer for scheduled maintenance.
I don't push my car to the nearest gas station and make hand motions charades-style to the "mechanic" and then pray that my credit card has enough space to handle another fix. Nor do I duct tape the repair problems on my own.
Just driving my car (that was built this century) onto a white tile surface feels grown-up and privileged-- even though I have to bum rides like a teenager while it's getting its check-up...I guess getting a rental car for the day would be super-grown-up.

2. I get calls from the school principal's office.
Not for Kid C mind you, and she actually has a real principal, but she's an angel and never gets in trouble.
For Kid R however, I get calls more often than I'd like. Until last week, they were all due to him being sick in someway or another, but now I get behavior calls.
Joy. Parental joy.
I feel like an [unwilling] adult when I take walk-of-shame to pick him up from the school office because of his crunky spaz psycho behavior. I don't think adults are supposed to use those adjectives about children, but I do.

3. I meet with architects.
Yes, really. I'm a co-homeowner (which also gives me loads of real adult points, like beating a "boss" on a Mario level. And that nintendo reference also shows how old I am). I get to make deciscions like "yes, make the fireplace look like this" and use words like "wainscoting" "soffit" and "composite decking." Mind you, I attend these meetings barefoot at my dining table with craft-glitter encrusted on it, but I'm still in the game.

4. I spend more than 50.00 at a time at the grocery store.
If I saw an item, say the sewing machine that I really really want but can't justify buying, that costs 280.00 (although in fairness the Brother costs closer to 400), I wouldn't buy it. I would walk away. But I go to Safeway, buy random stuff to feed, wipe, and clean the anklebiters and I hand over a load of moola. Most of the time I don't even pay attention to the total. Because that's how adult I am. Although the mature thing would be to pay attention to the total and track it, try to reduce it etc. I didn't say I was mature, I said I was adult. Like the kind of adults on Judge Judy, not on CSPAN.

5. Teenagers and college students think I'm ancient.
Tattoos, piercing, blue hair, I've got it all. What I don't have is a birthday in the 1990's. I have old-face and two kids. Ain't no way they're gonna follow me on Twitter (they're too cool for Twitter anyhow) and they're going to accept my friend request on Facebook out of politeness and then probably "hide" my news feed because they don't care how funny my kids are.
I can tell they can't tell the difference between my age and their parents age.

6. I can buy bunnies and motorcycles, but I prudently choose not to.
I never had a window of time in which I was independent enough and not-broke enough to buy a bunny and a motorcycle and enjoy them.
I never had a time in which I had both the cash to buy a motorcycle and have no one care about me enough to tell me not to ride one because I would surely die. (which I agree would happen...because I'm an adult)
And I never had a time in which I could pour all my heart's affection and spare time into a furry adorable rodent. Humans, large and now large-and-small, receive 95% of my love/time, which leaves 4% for Mojito and 1% for anything else living in this house.
Bunnies and motorcycles just don't fit into a real adult lifestyle. I still think they are both fantastic and I'll have to settle for screensaver slideshows or something safe and nerdly to satisfy my respective appetites.

I blurbed

I had a groupon that was expiring in less than 24 hours so I had to get Blurbing or else $$ would go down the drain.

So I made it, and it took SO much longer than I thought it would take to make a 20 page photobook. My legs are numb I've been laptopping for so long on this one little book.

my flu, deconstructed

Everyone hates being sick.

(Actually I liked being sick as a kid because I'd rather lay in bed all day than go to school. The only proviso being barfing. Barfing is never cool.)

But being sick, over the age of 18, is extra sucky. Because when you're a grown-up:

-You have to tell people at your work (or college, if I rewind far enough) that you're sick.
I always think that people don't believe I'm really sick.

In fact, I had this one job that I had for 4 years, I was forced to come in, no matter how sick I was (as long as it wasn't intestinal, see above), because my boss would always come in, no matter how sick she was. She even came in when she had pink eye (!), how messed up is that?

All because of the almighty dollar.

And that's the thing, I don't care about the dollar when I'm sick. When I'm sick I go into desperation mode, and think thoughts like: "I can't possibly get out of bed because I'm so miserable, and I'm willing to give up one of my kidneys or shave my head or eat ramen for a whole year to be able to stay in bed."

I won't lie, I've contemplated adult diapers because of the misery of getting out of bed. Never acted on that one, but I'm not above it, if I were sick enough.

But back to the idea of work. I had to take off a week in Dec because of the first time I got the flu, then I had 2 weeks furlough days around Christmas. Then I took of 3 days because of my birthday last week and now it looks like I'm gonna have to be off another week. I can just feel how irritated people are at me. Even if they're not, I feel it anyway.

So out of guilt, I work some from home even though I feel like I have the black plague, which stresses me out, and probably makes my flu last longer.

-The kids totally take advantage of me.

Within 2 hours of returning from school this afternoon, the kids had emptied a bottle of my perfume and hung from the towel rack and promptly broke it.

Yesterday I had to spank Kid R 5 times before 9am.

They are completely merciless. Good thing we don't have stairs, because if I were to fall down them, they would just jump on my lifeless body until dawn.

Kevin would find me dead, surrounded by empty marshmallow bags and nestle morsels ground into the carpet like a chocolate chalk outline.

-The rest of the family gets sick.

If we all got sick at once, that'd be one thing, then we all take the same amount off of work and school and that's it.

But it's a stepped process. My flu started Sunday, and it will probably last until the middle of next week. Kid C got sick today so she'll probably be out of school for a week. And then Kid R and Kevin will follow suit in a few days.

I'll be forced to stay at home with two kids that aren't really sick, but have enough cooties to keep them out of school (!)

(Very rarely does an illness keep them from bouncing off the walls. Kid C had pneumonia last year and the only way I could tell was from her temperature. She was still acting like WWF Smack Down was scouting in our neighborhood.)

-Total breakdown of hygiene and motivation.

Talk about smelly cat! When I have a fever/body aches/chills, the last thing I want to do is get in the shower. Showers and their fluctuating temperatures, *shudder*.

Toothbrushing, is that really necessary when I can barely stand up straight?

My hair looks akin to that of a meth-addict, and my couture is replaced by pajamas. I actually wore my pj's in public to pick up the kids afterschool. Good thing I live in Sockwithsandalsland where the fashion bar is low (just above "rural Alaska.")

Calorie count? Exercise? Right out the window. I'm getting bloated and fatter and achier and smellier by the minute. I feel super gross and my pillow case is a silent dirty witness to it all.

And it's not ending anytime soon! All of this mentioned above will repeat for the next week (or more! no!)

Peril!

auld lang syne

Customize a digital collage

Happy New Years, peeps!

(p.s. photos by Kimiyo Cordero, thanks!)

psst...I bee blogged

I just made a big post on the bee-blog.

Check it out.

outdated churches, hide your ficus trees!

I just finished this re-face proposal for a church in the area.

CLICK HERE TO CHECK OUT MY WORK

15 mock-ups, a new record for me.

This is my 4th church re-face proposal I've made, so I guess I need to add a tab to my website so I can show the before's and after's.

Speaking of after's, they're not in the Flickr set, but I'll post just one and you'll get the idea of what it looks like right now.

Yep, there it is. So now go back to the Flickr set and go "ahhhh" :)

Just like the other 3 churches, I don't know if they'll actually do what's in the proposal. Here's hopin.'

(it's 2:30am, do you see that on my timestamp? arg.)

I pretended I was Stacy London

Last night, for 4 hours, Fran, and to some extent Matt E tore down Andrew and rebuilt him.

Andrew is 23. It was time.

It was a pinnacle moment in all of our lives. We even cut his hair in the office copy room. And when it was all done I almost fell over from shock.

Sigh. Fantastic.

Thank you Nordstroms Rack and Burlington Coat Factory. ;)

Christmas Chavez Park

Kid C had her dance recital last night. She really did great. I mean, I know I'm her mom and I love her. But she was so cute (and her little friend too) it was one of those moments I wanted to bottle up. The closest I got was taking a blurry video with my iPhone while Kid R grabbed at my arm. Here it is:





We walked around the park afterwards.


Who doesn't love a snow machine?


(okay this one is out of order, but this was the finale pile-everyone-onstage thing at the end of the show)

sickness momentous

This morning I woke up with Pink Eye.

I am fully grossed out by myself.

I've never in my life had it.

And just like all the other bodily maladies that I thought would never affect personally until one day they did, I am, like I said, revolted.

This particular problem is compounded with my flu.

It's taken me getting it to realize I haven't had the real flu for a really really long time. I can't even remember when, but I was probably a kid.

It's day 6 of the flu. With enough caffeine and ibuprofen in the afternoons I can kinda function normally. But night and mornings, I wish there was a socially acceptable way to just knock oneself out. Each day the virus finds new areas to invade. This morning I woke up and (in addtion to my disgusting eye) my ear was throbbing. Novel.

But I wake up each morning and say "you're not throwing up, thank God. Thank God you're not barfing." Also followed by "you don't live in sub saharan Africa, you have a bed, a drug store, and you don't have to walk 15 miles to get water everyday." So I'm thankful for that too.

this morning I made

I made a couple of CD covers for a friend who played at Echo.

(and who knows if he'll like either one?)

does two camera phone pics a blog post make?

This morning was crap. I won't get into the minutia, but it involved me being so sick I thought an alien was going to bust out of my gut, which led to oversleeping and not taking people to the airport like they were depending on me to, and not 1, not 2, but 3! areas of dog poop/pee for me to clean up.

And since it was Veterans Day, I had to tell myself "you didn't have to go get blown up in the desert/jungle, so shut up."

Maybe all that led to me overeating Sushi Totoro for lunch? (oh dynamite roll, why did I give in to your advances!)

By the time I picked up the second kid from his school, I was ready to take a drive.

We drove down to the beach and I have never seen a more beautiful afternoon at that beach.

It's usually Oregon-level-windy and cold but today, perfect. The kids were cheerful too- bonus.

I've also stopped caring about whether we return to the car with the same amount of sand toys as we began.

So that helps keep the zen.

(Let them drift away to Crapola Island, what does it matter anymore?)

And I haven't done proper blog honor to our newest family member, Mr. Gerald Pickles, the dog.

He's settling in pretty well. He's still kinda young so he does the annoying chew-anything-chewable routine. My hairbrush is half what it used to be and he almost [wo]manslaughtered me by chewing through a cord and then when I plugged it in, it sparked and could have flambéd me. *grumble*

But-I love him despite the chewing and pooping and barking and jumping. (just like I love my son with all those same qualities)

Mojito is a grumpy old man, comparatively, and he tells Gerald where-to-stick-it on a daily basis.

So with that said, I had to take a pic of this moment. Co-snuggling.

Look at that lummox. Just look at his absurd proportions.

And of course, my little mexi-loaf next to him, like a throw pillow. So cute.

But I will not collect a "Holiday Village!"

I'm like a real grown-up mom now, I just bought a white tinsel tree and an inflatable decoration for the front yard.

Yes, an inflatable.

Both have perfectly reasonable explanations:

1) The white tinsel tree, I've wanted one for years. And now that the kids come home with apx 95 crafts a week, I predicted that my little 2 ft tree that holds all the popsicle stick sleds and clothespin reindeers isn't going to be able to carry the load that this season will bring. Preschool, Sunday School, Elementary School and Kids Park-- crafttastic explosion(!!)

2) My kids trip out at inflatables. They love them in our neighbors' yards and will stand in the cold for way-too-long to stare at them. So I found one that was somewhat charming and didn't have Santa in it. (I don't think I could stomach a nativity inflatable even if I had found one, though I am pro-nativity in general. So I just went with a cute antarctic animal wearing clothes)

Disneyland is booked

I just dropped a couple of big fat charges on the credit card:

1) 4 plane tickets to LAX
2) 4 night stay at the Disneyland Hotel (childhood dream) and 4 park hopper passes.

The kids have never been. I haven't been in 10 years. Kevin hasn't been in 15 years.

Now the only problem that remains, Kid R and his recently crazified personality.

Do you think he'll snap out of it by January? If I feed him only sugar free foods for a week and enforce two naps a day, do you think I can avoid a tantrum in the middle of Frontierland?
It kinda gives me an ulcer just thinking about it.

The upside is, Kevin loves downtime to read books, and Kid R will definitely need a nap. That means Kid C and I will live it up in the meantime (!)



Kid C has watched a Netflix documentary about Disneyland and has it all planned out in her mind. I can't tell you how many times she has told me that I must bring the camera to take a pic of her and Tinkerbell.

Now all I have left to do is book dinner at the Blue Bayou for my 30th b-day dinner...

Halloween

Most adorable father/son pic to date. I mean, look at Kid R's little smile and toes. I can't take the cuteness.




Kid R couldn't let himself be excluded from the girls' photo. And hey, throw in a chi-weenie wearing bells while we're at it, right?


I felt like a complete dork, but I did it for the kids (like the minivan feeling, just for a couple of hours while we trick-o-treated).
We survived.

1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 = fine! I'm awake!!

Preface: I realize that nothing I'm about to complain about is as terrible as having to get up out of bed to tend a baby. I am grateful for that.

4:45am: my genitourinary system decides to process the glass of milk I had at 10pm. My body software is out of date and is still on pre-industrial era scheduling. It thinks I would naturally get up before dawn to thresh the wheat or milk the cows or something.

5:00am: three Cental Standard Time tweets DING on my phone. Apparently Twitter changed it's site and erased my do-not-disturb setting. I think it was a sinister ploy to make me visit their new site.

5:05am: the cat walks on me to go outside. She knew I was up. I have to be nice to her and let her out because a) she has no indoor litter box any more and b) the new dog Gerald tries to eat her.

5:20am: I realize I'm not wearing my retainer (already!) and I have no clue (!) where it could be. This anxiety pretty much sealed my wakeful fate for the morning.

5:30am: the genitourinary and endocrine systems connive together to tell my brain that I am now truly awake so the allergy sequence may begin. Roll tape!-- itchy watery eyes, sneezing and general head misery are in full moldy autumn bloom.


When this kind of thing happens to me, I'm pretty sure it's God waking me up. He's telling me to have what the western Christian world calls a "quiet time" (although that term is such a turn off I'd rather call it morning-Gospel-meditation or something. ) But look what a stubborn donkey I am, I'm blogging instead.

I did pray. But my head was still on the pillow and I'm pretty sure he deducts points for that because I think many would agree that you can only really pay attention to the Holy Spirit when you're not a blink away from REM or thinking about unloading the dishwasher.
(And those super-early-tweets? Those were about God, so I'm gonna count those as 'Word, too.)

Next Saturday, God's probably gonna shift into higher gear. Grumble...

Norway and the Black Hole

On the 7 minute drive home from work today, Kid C insisted that I explain in great detail both The Scream by Edvard Munch and the Oakland Raiders.

Neither was very easy to explain to a 5 yr old.
It all started when she saw a rendition of the famous painting in colored chalk (the figure sporting a TJ Hawaiian shirt) in an advertisement outside the store by the melons and charcoal briquettes.
I had to wikipedia the meaning of The Scream on my phone to be able to give her his motivation for the painting. (his motivation was "why" number four in the endless chain of "why"s.) Even after I explained all that I could, she still was unsatisfied.

The mystery of the Oakland Raiders started with a decal on a camper shell on a mid 90's domestic truck stopped in front of us at the 280 underpass. "Look a pirate!" and then C noticed that it was wearing a football helmet, and it was downhill from there. What "raids" are and why a football team would want to be associated with stealing and scaring people. Complex topics in the backseat.

working from starbucks

observations made while working from Starbucks on the posher side of Sockswithsandalsland:

-sitting next to someone who is also working on a laptop, feels alot like sitting next to someone on an airplane. Both persons internally agree to ignore each other in the politest way possible.

-when you sit by the door in an upholstered chair, you immediately get the butt-view of every person that walks in. unsettling.

-there is a limit to how much reggae my brain can process. This might be the most consecutive reggae songs I have ever experienced.

-I can easily see why people make irritated faces at me when I bring my preschoolers in here. I mean, the "mommy tone" one has to use with kids is totally annoying. Oh well.

-the barista did not find me charming when I was on my iphone and didn't realize I was next in line, even though I throughly self-deprecated. She was flatly unamused and I reckon, probably wishing I was a handsome single business man.

-I'm not sure who the appropriate person is to sing along to the song "No Diggity" but I do know that if you're wearing brown office slacks, it's not you.

Let's try this mobile photo blogging

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Originally uploaded by charlsablaylock

My laptop is often being used for cartoon watching these days. This leaves me with only phone to blog with. Photos are tricky to blog with blogger, but look I found a way! I can't embed them in my real blogpost below, but sectional are better than none at all I s'pose.

This is a pic of Kid C coming off one of the big inflatable water slides at her fantastic preschool.

Wile E. Apirist

photo.JPG
Originally uploaded by charlsablaylock

This dude drove our bees in his Prius all the way down from Berkeley for us. (see bee explanation way below) And to my delight, he even donned this classic beesuit to transfer them to our sideyard. Bonus! And yeah, his name was Wiley. :)

Pic from the park

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Originally uploaded by charlsablaylock

Yes, there was clapping and wooing and your token crazy homeless man walking around yelling crazy things. He only stuck around for 1/2 of it (hooray)