Domestic Oblivion

One more day of school left.  Well, technically, there are two days left, but the children of Chez Star shall not be attending the last day of school.  Nope, I thought instead they would like an adventure that includes getting on an airplane and being left with grandparents for 10 days.  Or, as Mason counts it, being gone for 10 dinners.

Turns out, apparently, this fun filled, 10 dinner adventure does not make up for the fact that they will miss the last day of school.  Which, isn’t really even a day.  It’s 4 1/2 hours.  And, because lots of people miss this day, there aren’t even any parties.  But they’re still all mad about it.  Even the kid who doesn’t like school.

And, truly?  I don’t care.

Why?

Because after I haul their ungrateful little asses ALL the way to Houston, I’m leaving them for a fun filled week with their grandparents, while I eat my way through the French Quarter and Garden District of New Orleans. 

Simply.  Cannot.  Wait.

Also?  Taking a 4 hour voodoo walking tour.

And?  Eating beignets EVERY SINGLE MORNING.

Further?  I took my personal shopper out with me yesterday, and I am now the proud owner of an entire new summer wardrobe.  Due to the fact that my personal shopper is totally and completely awesome, my 4 pairs of shorts, 11 shirts, 1 skirt, 2 pairs of shoes AND new bra?  Yeah, they cost $223.

So, to recap:  I will be looking marvelous while I’m eating and walking my way through NOLA for 7 days.  Without my children.

Clearly, I am all set for summer.

And due to a communication breakdown, the kids can look forward to working their way through the 600 Otter Pops in my freezer upon their return.

Some of you may have noticed that I’ve been somewhat lacking in the blogging department for a  while.

OK.  I kind of sort of completely disappeared for 2 months.

And while I was away, I discovered something about myself.

I started this blog as a way to help cope with stress in my life, and it helped immensely.  But now I’m finding that when I really feel buried by stress, the idea of writing freaks me out even more.

So, yes, it can be inferred from the previous statement that the past 2 months have been stressful.  If you’ve been stopping by for a while, you’ll know that Chez Star is rife with “issues”.  We’ve got Asperger’s, ADD, ADHD, anxiety, depression and a 13 year old.  Living here is definitely not for the faint of heart.

If you happen to live in a house with “issues”, you’ll know that sometimes things run smoothly and everyday life makes you feel lucky.  You will also know that that can change very quickly, leaving you feeling like you’re standing there watching the train wreck.

As a parent, it’s gut wrenching and horrible to watch one of your children go through one of these train wreck episodes.  This time it was Bowman, and watching him struggle to make it through a day ripped my heart into pieces every single day.  He has stabilized, and while it’s not smooth sailing yet, things are much better than they were.

And now  I’m looking down the barrel of summer vacation.  Don’t get me wrong; I actually LIKE summer vacation.  I like having the kids around all day, adhering to a casual schedule.  I like eating dinner late.  I love it when the kids play outside after dinner.  I love hanging out at the pool, playing cards and sneaking adult beverages with my lady friends. The problem lies in the fact that I  have two children who do NOT like summer vacation.  For them, summer break is something to be tolerated and endured until school starts up again. These children would love nothing more than to attend school all year long, so that the routine never, ever, ever changes.  Summer is a struggle for them, which makes me sort of sad.

**sigh**

In other news, I have started a Personal Improvement Program (PIP).  I have decided that I’m tired of feeling squishy, and no amount of laying about and eating bonbons was going to change that.  Of course, I had a list of rules for my PIP:

1. Working out cannot take more than an hour, which means no commuting to a gym or studio.
2. I refused to purchase ANYTHING.
3. I had to be able to do it alone.

I settled on the Beach Body Insanity workout.  Thanks to friends, I didn’t have to purchase the DVDs.  I could do it alone, in my family room, and all the workouts are less than 60 minutes.  I also decided to intersperse swimming into the program, since the neighborhood pools have opened.

Now on day 5 of my PIP, and here are a few thoughts:

1. All I want right now is to finish a workout without feeling like I could be potentially maimed from said workout.
2. If you need motivation to continue working out, put on a wetsuit and take a good, hard look in a full length mirror. Don’t forget to look at the back for added inspiration.
3. The right music makes all the difference.
4. The guy, Sean T, from  the videos, makes me want to punch a kitten.

Much more, I’m sure, on the PIP as summer progresses.

Also?  Every child in my house is mad at me for making them miss the last day of school.  I thought that getting on an airplane and going on a cool adventure would make up for missing the last 4.5 hours of school in which nothing school-like would actually happen, but I could not have been more wrong.

And, if any of you have any suggestions for what to do and where to eat in New Orleans, I’d love to have them. Because that’s where I’m going, without my children.

OH!  And I’m going to the Psychedelic Furs concert.  AND I will reluctantly admit that I will be attending the Lady Gaga concert in August, and although I don’t usually attend concerts of that nature, I am completely looking forward to the experience.

Bless your little hearts for hanging around while I checked out for a while.  Next time I think I’ll educate you on “depth of plunge”.  Davie-O has spent the last week completely obsessed with it.  Oh, stop being dirty!  It’s Davie-O’s latest in a long line of obsessions, and has to do with computer keyboards.  You know you want to know more,,,,

Want to know what bites?

When you pick up your mom’s cell phone that she’s left with you in the car, and decide it would be fun to play a video game whilst waiting for said mom, so you connect to the internet and play for 10 minutes until your mom returns,  and when your mom returns and  tells you that she doesn’t actually have web service on her phone, you flippantly say it’s “no big deal”  and you’ll just pay for it when the bill come.

Want to know why it bites?

The bill came yesterday and Mason owes me $87.52.  And I don’t care who you are, no video game is worth $8.75 per minute.

I received a card from Davie-O for Valentines.  It was, actually, more than I was expecting.  AND, on top of that, I would go so far as to say it’s the best card I’ve ever been given.

Here, let me show you…

SINCE IT’S

VALENTINE’S DAY

AND I BOUGHT YOU

THIS REALLY

ROMANTIC CARD

EXPRESSING

MY LOVE FEELINGS,

YOU PROBABLY WANT

TO MAKE OUT

WITH ME.

(and then you open it up and it says)

OKAY.

That, people, is my idea of an awesome Valentine remembrance.

I’m not really much for Valentimes Day.  Yep.  Valentimes.  That’s what it’s called around here, despite my best efforts.  I find myself irritated at the basic idea of it.  It’s a total Hallmark holiday, and it  just generally makes me want to say “See?  THIS is what’s wrong with America!  Why do we have to designate a specific day to say “I love you” ?”

Upon mutual agreement, Davie-O and I don’t do V-day.

HOWEVER!  I think that after Halloween, it’s one of my favorite things to celebrate with my kids.  Why?  Because I get to give them little something-somethings, and it’s a tradition.  I always leave their gifts lined up on the table before I go to bed the night before V-day, and when they get up they’re welcome to rip into they shiny red gifts.  It thrills them, to be included exclusively  (Davie-O doesn’t get a gift) in an event that seems so grown up to them. 

I heard two of the kids talking yesterday, wonder what I was going to get them this year.  It’s sort like wondering what you’re going to get for your birthday, only you know it’s going to either be pajamas or silly underwear. 

Mason came home from school yesterday, and when asked how his day was he answered “bipolar”.  His explanation:

“Well, I got to school, and I was having a good day.  Then they started handing Ram-O-Grams (Valentine grams that the kids could buy for 50 cents), and I worried that I wasn’t going to get one,  and I felt down.  But then Mr. Apple said “Mason, come up and get your Ram-O-Gram”, and I felt up.  Then I sat down, and opened it and felt a little down, because all it said on the inside was “nerd!”.  BUT THEN, I realized it looked like it was written by a girl, and I  was up again.  All in all, a great day in the end.”

Bowman brought me a poem he had written just for me, which reduced me to tears.  You try to not cry while reading a poem where the first line says “My  mom is a red haired jubilant shiny bright pearl”.  Seriously.  I’m tearing up right now because it’s just so damn sweet.

Isabelle brought home one of those ginormous chocolate kisses that was given to her by a boy in her class who has such a big crush on her that he can’t even talk to her.  But he begged his mom to be allowed to spend his own money to buy the gift, and walked up to her after school, shoved it over to her, and ran away.  AHHHH, 4th grade friendships. 

And then there’s Cutter. Unbeknownst to me, he took $3 to school and ordered 3 red carnations for Olivia.  He has known her since the third grade, when she befriended him and they’ve been two quiet, kindhearted peas in a pod ever since.  Olivia doesn’t go to Cutter’s school, so he had the flowers delivered to himself, each with a note that said “this flower is for Olivia”.  He spent his own money to buy her three tiny spools of ribbon, because “she loves to make things”, and got her some chocolate as well.  Seriously, how thoughtful is that?

When he delivered Olivia’s gift, she gave him an envelope.  It contained a card that she had made just for him and on the inside it said “you are a good friend”.  He was so happy that he smiled all night.

So, all you (Mrs.. All) who think I’m a total holiday curmudgeon…..here’s proof that my heart is not made of stone after all.

You know that saying, “you learn something new every day”?  A good thing, supposedly.

I learned a very interesting factoid yesterday.  It was new to me, and very enlightening.  So much so that I feel compelled to pass it on to you.

Ready?

I learned that  IF an eight year old boy were so inclined as to clean up a spilled bowl of Cheerios and milk with the hand held vacuum, AND said vacuum was then put away for approximately a week, THEN when vacuum is turned back on the stench which is forcefully blown out the back and directly into your face is rather overpowering.

How overpowering?

Well. Strong enough to make a person vomit, right where they were standing and without warning, before even having a chance to switch off the vacuum.

Something new, every day, here at Chez Star.

I buy all the kids glasses at Lens Crafters.  I know it’s not the cheapest place (not by a long shot) to buy glasses, but I go there for two very specific reasons.  First, they have a one year replacement policy, at 1/2 price, for a whole year.  As many times as you need.  Second, they can fix the glasses there, and if they do need to be replaced, it only takes an hour.

Ask me how many times in the last six weeks I’ve needed to use the replacement policy, and keep in mind only the three boys wear glasses.

Well……

The FIRST time, Bowman came home from school with busted frames after a tether ball to the face.

The SECOND time, Bowman came home with really, really bent frames after a basketball to the face, and I broke them trying to bend them back.

The THIRD time, Cutter bent his frames while adjusting his ski goggles.  I heard “Uh oh” from the back seat of the car when he broke the hinge off while trying to bend them back.

The FOURTH time was three days after the third time, when Cutter’s new frames miraculously and mysteriously “just broke” while he was “just sitting” on the bus.

The FIFTH replacement came yesterday, when Mason arrived home from school, where he had tripped and broken the nose piece off the frames when the glasses slid off and landed under his hand when he caught himself.

So there.  Five new pair of kid glasses in the past six weeks.  This has led to a new rule here at Chez Star.  Mom will buy your new glasses every year before school starts.  She will pay to replace them ONE time.  After that, you’re on your own.  Oh, and because of the whole three day thing, I’m also charging them for gas.

Around Pleasantville are some very upscale properties.  These homes are on 10 acre lots, have barns and pools, and seem to all have long meandering driveways.  There are two such houses that sit facing each other, atop opposite hills, with the road running down the gulch between them.

I have been looking at these houses for years.  Years.  And if ANYTHING every embodied the saying “just because you have money doesn’t mean you have taste”, it’s these two houses.

One is a Mediterranean monstrosity that looks for all the world like it was designed by the same guy that did Caesar’s Palace, only he did this work after dropping a bunch of acid.  Everyone in the ‘hood refers to this house as “the Hotel”. The Hotel looks across the gulch at a house which everyone calls “the Hospital”.

Both of these properties have had a colorful past.  The Hospital built and inhabited by a builder and his family,a  nasty divorce ensued, the horse barn was vacated, and the Hospital eventually went back to the bank.  It has been empty for the better part of a year, in which time all vegetation has died and fallen over.  The Hotel was built as a spec house, and near it’s completion a whole bunch of stuff was done for a prospective buyer.  Of course, that buyer bailed, and the house sat empty, while all the palm trees (oh yeah, palm trees in Idaho, cause they go with the house) died.  Someone briefly moved in, the palm trees were replace, and then the house was vacated.  It, of course, sat empty long enough for the palm trees to die again.  New tenants moved in, the palm trees were replaced, a woman was struck by lightning in the driveway, and eventually  the house got repoed.

Happily, the third set of palm trees seem to have taken.

Recently, both properties have gotten new owners.  One of the things these new owners like to do is to turn on all their outdoor up-lighting at night.

To which I say:  SERIOUSLY?

As if we ALL haven’t see your houses for the past 5 years.  As if we weren’t well aware of your ostentatiousness during the day, but must be alerted to it at night as well.  Last time I drove by, I was able to count 17 lights illuminating 2 sides of the Hospital.  Why, WHY? I ask, do you need to light up the entire outside perimeter of your house when it’s snowing and you’re inside of it?

My theory?  It’s either a battle to prove whose house is gaudier, or they’re sending secret messages to each other through their up lighting.

I’ve taken a lot of heat, here at home, since the man cave post.  Although I have my geek’s permission and full support to write about his, um, idiosyncrasies, , it appears that the sharing of the feelings for the Dave Cave was too much.

What upset him the most, however, was the fact that I didn’t let everyone know that he did, indeed, pull up his manties and attend the concert with me.  I am here to set the record straight:  Dave attended a social event without a gun to his head or an electronic device in hand.  Sadly, the Reverend Peyton and the entire Big Damn Band broke down in Jerome, depriving us of his music, his wife and her washboard, and leaving us with only the opening band.

Upon returning from Las Vegas, my geek announced that he had made a decision.  This sort of announcement is almost never a good thing.  It usually culminates with things like the geek eating everything with chopsticks, walking around in his underwear, or napping in his motorcycle helmet. 

The big decision?

Response will no longer be elicited when references are made to the office, the Dave Cave or the man cave.

Yep.  The man cave has officially jumped the shark.

But, take heart all you men with special places that belong only to you.  This is the dawning of a new golden age; it is now the era of the Man Bunker.

Well, I must pat myself on the back.  On Thursday I finally broke down and went to the office supply store to buy my new 2010 calendar.  Why wait until January 21st you ask?  Because I buy the kind of calendar that is specifically made to appeal to profoundly lazy people such as myself….it comes with January of the next year. 

Anyway.  Off I went to Office Depot, to once again be astounded at the highway robbery that is day planner inserts.  I blame Franklin Covey for the phenomenon, but that is neither here nor there.  I’m not highly effective, I don’t have 7 habits, and I don’t use F.C. stuff, yet it still cost $26 for my calendar insert.

Or it would have, had I not had a “spend at least $20 and get $10 off” coupon.

And I was pleased.

Today I went to Wal-Mart, which I loathe, to buy cleaning supplies, tooth paste, Tampax and Ziplocs.  I was armed with Sunday circular coupons.  Along with scoring a free box of tampons, I also saved $12.75.  AND the best part?  I didn’t buy anything that I don’t normally buy and that I didn’t absolutely need.

So to recap:  that’s $22.75 saved in 24 hours, PLUS a free box of Tampax.

As I was pulling out of the Wal-Mart parking lot, which is a total goat fu*k of epic proportions and appears to have been designed by 4th grade boys at engineer-for-a-day camp, I saw something that actually made me stare.  Had I not been actively and vigorously chawing on my gum, I’m pretty sure  my mouth would have been hanging open.

Walking  across the parking lot were two blue hairs.  They were dressed exactly alike, with their white elastic waist pants, quilted aqua jackets and spiffy white tennis shoes.  This was not an accident people.  This was not meeting your BFF at a party, only to find you both wore the same Forever 21 sparkly pink tank top that makes your rack look fabulous.  Nope, this was planned.  Do you think they were twins?  I did too, until they got close enough for me to see their faces, and I realized it was a mother/daughter duo.  And the daughter was 65 if she was a day.

And that?  Is even creepier than grown adult twins who dress alike.  Adults?  Turns out they shouldn’t do that.  Just don’t.  No.

From there, I went to Winco.  Because we eat food here at Chez Star, and we had completely run out of the things that make my children happy, and were almost out the the stuff that makes me look like a decent parent.  First stop is always produce.  There, rifling through the oranges, I saw the most awesome thing I’ve seen in the grocery  store in the last year.

A very lovely Muslim woman, wearing a rather pretty purple head scarf.  The scarf was pulled tight around her face, so no hair was showing, and fastened under her chin.  She had her cell phone firmly tucking into the head scarf, enabling her to talk on the phone while engaging both hands in her produce shopping experience.  It.  Was.  Awesome.