Look, It's a MOUSE!!

Look, it's a MOUSE!!

Well, that's that.

Now I have gauranteed that it will rain.

Oh, and I also bought some Crayola 3D EXPLOSION while I was at the craft store.

BAD IDEA.

Apparently the magic is in the moisture. The "markers" are moist, which takes off the black coating on the "magic" paper. Underneath the black coating are the vibrant colors that appear 3D with the magic glasses.

Well, it's really humid today. So, Keith had black crap from hand to elbows, and even some on his face.

I was a little hesitant in the store, buying one pad of paper and four markers, all packaged together without any sign of replacements or refills. But once I got home I saw why: the markers are essentially demolished in the process of drawing and coloring the "magic" paper. New paper would be a waste of time without buying new markers, and losing the glasses is a virtual promise, so the whole set just makes sense.

Ugh. Sometimes I hate crayola, seriously. But Keith loves it....

back to Bacardi NAO.

Summer Learning

Seeing as how "the Wunderkind" (as my aunt calls him) was at the top of his kindergarten class, I've decided to undertake a massive effort in keeping him ahead of his game for the upcoming year. Mom sent me some kindergarten textbooks and I am armed with a library card. What I wasn't prepared for was the unending dramatics of trying to get a kid to read and learn during the summer.

Keith has been tasked with reading one book per day. One. And not even anything difficult. I'm asking him to read through the series that the school sent home with him, a collection of simple paper books. Easy.

No.

The Eye Rubbing. Keith seems to rather rub his eyes out than read these books. He reads out loud in a monotone, as though he's milling flour rather than reading. Both hands are at the eyes, rubbing and digging away, and I'm not even sure how he's seeing the words. His hands get moist from the tears he generates, as though he's precipitating CRYING at the fact I'm asking him to read these books.

Math books?

"Please practice writing your numbers."

"AWWWWWWUGHHHH."

And then in a script resembling late Picasso I get a figure 8. The lined paper has no meaning for Keith. He scrawls through it fast, trying to get away so there's enough time to play more "Simpsons Hit and Run."

So, he's smart enough to remember the cheat codes for this game, something I told him how to do once, but yet not smart enough to write out sevens and eights? I don't think so, kiddo.

And even though "reading is boring," he always begs me for another chapter of the book we're reading in the evenings before bedtime.

The Pinata

It's done. Sort of. it still needs painting but I can run out tomorrow and get poster paint. I only need black and white, I can mix the rest. It's supposed to be a mouse...

Yes, I know. It's not much now but let me get done painting it. The silly part is that we're reading Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh at the moment. So, I guess we're going to bash some mice!

But other than that, I think we're ready. He's looking forward to it, and so am I.

Maybe if I painted it to look like Despereaux.... God that was a depressing book.

I told the PTA moms that I would try and think of some kind of thing for a dramatics deal at the school, but the only thing that I can think of is a talent show. Would that be such a bad idea? It would irritate the "professional singers" who want to be involved, but I want the kids to have fun, not the parents... I'll toss it on the Yahoo group and see what the reaction is. Yargh.

Okay, OKay, I'm lazy

But my other laptop died awhile back and it was hard for me to get online with anything other than the Berry. And Berry is no good for doing this sort of thing.

Anyhow - we've been up to a lot and I hope to start catching up with everything. Keith "graduated" kindergarten, we went camping, he's in summer camp, Patrick and I are still working, and life seems okay for now. I'm still having chest pain and things, but I'm dealing with that the best I can and moving forward.

Keith's sixth birthday party is next week, and I guess I should finish the pinata tonight. So far we have quite a few of his classmates showing up, and a few of my adult friends might be there as well. Saturday will be a day rife with birthdays, as it's also Virginia's birthday. She's having her party in the morning at Whole Foods.

Yes, Whole Foods does birthday parties. I have no idea what goes on at a Whole Foods birthday party and I have no desire to find out I will be dropping Keith off to do whatever they do with Organic Food and then Patrick and I will be picking up food for his party later on that day. V's mom tells me that it involves cooking, kitchen safety, and something about a target made out of ice cream. Whatevs, so long as they have fun.

Keith's party will be at the park by the lake, where hopefully we may escape the 90 degree temperatures. Even if we don't, I have water balloons. I have a slate of games for the kids to play for prizes, we're having a little cookout, and I don't know how I will keep the ice cream cold for the afternoon. I just don't think I can carry that much ice.

Keith has taken to reading comic books for the summer. I honestly don't care, I'm just glad he's found something he enjoys reading. Keith is selectively smart. He seems to choose who he is smart with and when. It's kind of strange.

This past weekend was the Custer Fair up the street from us. It's a big Hoo-Doo, with the usual stages and performers, food and craft booths. I love craft fairs, but the more of them I attend, the more I realize that they all have the basic weird stuff. There's always the weird jewelry types, the uber-weird clothing booths, the knitting booth, the sad guy selling landscapes, the weird wall hangings, and the super weird furniture made of knotty wood. Variations on these themes abound, but there they are. I like jewelry, but I tend to look and move on, thinking I'll come back later if I still want it. By the time I'm done wandering, I forget what it was and decide it wasn't that memorable. I never, NEVER buy clothing at a craft fair. Lord knows what was involved in that.

This fair had some Kid's Clothes that looked like a virtual gaurantee of getting creamed on the playground; rainbow print short dresses, red and white polka dot smock tops complete with matching beret, blue pinstripe shorts with flower print tops, and gaudy suspenders as far as the eye could see. I've always been a big proponent of "never put your kids in anything you wouldn't wear yourself." None of these things were anything I would consider putting my pet in, much less wear myself. I didn't bother looking at the price tags, but I can only imagine that she was grossly overcharging for what amounted to kiddie clownwear and a trip to the ER.

I had spent the morning volunteering at the school PTA booth, trying to sell t-shirts and water bottles and few of the other things they sell to try and raise money. I learned the hard way that folks realy don't like being spoken to at craft fairs. My usual cheerful and engaging tradeshow manner was rebuffed! The dumpy old women were grumpy, the hawkish types were outright mean, and no one wanted to buy any notecards! Towards the end of my volunteering stint, I was being so nice I could have peeled paint, just to see how awful and mean the craft fair patrons would be in response. I love me.

We gave Keith ten dollars to spend at the fair. Before anyone says we're too lenient, this would include treats. Some asshat was trying to push a ridiculous duck pushtoy on Keith, and Keith was starting to look longingly at said Duck. Okay, pushtoys are for toddlers. And this "made in China" plastic duck was nothing I wanted in my home. Upon giving Keith his ten dollars, I stated that all toy purchases had to be approved.

Then it was official. I became THE WORST MOM EVER.

Keith whined and moaned, dragged his feet and gave a performance worthy of Shakspeare. Worst mom ever. "You never let me buy ANYTHING. I just want the DUCK."

"No. There are surely other things you will find interesting here." Looking amongst the windchimes made of old spoons, the flat rocks with little flames coming out of them, and the scary mask sculptures, I wasn't sure he would. But there would be ice cream for sure, and ice cream heals all wounds.

Did I mention the Peruvian people? At every craft fair there's two or three booths of Peruvians, and they're all selling little handbags, sparkly stuffed animals, pipes and flutes, and small toys. Maybe an ocarina. The Peruvians had INVADED this fair. I counted SIX Peruvian booths, all with the same wares. This time, they had made bows and arrows out of PVC pipe and dowel rods, selling them for five bucks. Keith wanted one. Perfect. Now I can stop feeling guilty about never buying anything from the Peruvians.

I got an amber and silver ring, as I've always wanted a piece of Amber jewelry.

We ate some greasy fair food, followed by ice cream and dancing in the square. The musicians started out playing some fast and cheerful tunes, but once the kids started dancing they decided to play some slow and somber stuff inspired by their trips to indian graveyards in the Black Hills. As a result, the kids dances looked like interpretive movement. I just wanted to stand up and scream, "can't you go back to the happy crap? Please??"

But all that's done now, and the arrows from the bow and arrow set have become tollbooths at the various doorways around the apartment. Fortunately I am the favored parent and I get through for free.

My Meebas

Keith has been asking for a My Meebas for the past few weeks. Well, he's been asking for a lot of things over the past few weeks; Moon Sand, Bendaroos, that remote controlled Dinosaur, anything hot wheels, you get the idea. Gotta love endless advertising during Spongebob.

He's had a cold for the past few days, and I was trying to keep him indoors to recuperate. Of course he was bored out of his mind and making me crazy, so I decided to get him one. I figured it would keep him busy while I got my weekly cleaning and cooking done. We dropped off some stuff for work and headed out to Target for a My Meebas.

Now, I know My Meebas is directed at Girls. I'm fully aware of this, but I had no problem getting my kid a "girly" toy. He picked out a Purple Tube, and started playing right away. The premise is that if you "love" and "Nurture" the ameoba enough, it will "evolve" and grow. Grow it enough, and the Tube opens up to reveal that the ameoba is "real" and you get a stuffed critter. Okay, fine. It's a virtual pet with a definative end. I kind of liked this idea.

However, the "Meeba's" can't die. Remember the virtual pets; you HAD to feed them and play with them, else they would electronically perish and you would have to start over. The idea of the game was to make them live as long as possible. "My Meebas" don't die. There is "food" in the game, but it's not required. When you play a game to earn "hearts" required for evolution, and you fail the game, you don't lose any of your existing hearts. Things go on as normal. You can't Devolve.

I was kind of annoyed by this. It wasn't a challenge. Is this the kind of shit being peddled to girls? Weird pseudo sciencey crap, sure. But weird pseudo sciencey crap coupled with non-challenging warm-fuzzy pseudo games? Thank god I have a boy.

And of course, I was the one who got the critter to Evolve to the point where we could get the stuffed critter out of the tube. When I hit the final level, the tube didn't "pop open" as promised, so our dramatic moment of truth was devolved into me prying it open with a kitchen knife and Keith asking, "mommy, why didn't you save the destructions?"

"Well, Keith, since I was the one who played with it the most, don't you think we should share Meeba?"
Keith thinks about this for a moment. "Yeah, we can share."
"Can I take Meeba to work with me?"
He thinks harder about this one. "Only on Mondays."

So, Meeba is here with me. He wants another one. A pink one. Go figure. I'm tempted to start stitching my own Meebas to save myself $15.00 a pop and three hours of pointless gameage.

I did my Chicken Trick this weekend, so I have roast chicken in the fridge and about a gallon of stock to use for Thanksgiving. I can't believe that it's next week! FOUR DAY WEEKEND!!

This weekend I met Anne and one of her friends out at Cesar's for a big margarita, and we discussed the staff cuts at several lighting companies. I said that the oversaturated Chicago market was going to be competing for a smaller pool of business, and that I was anxious to see who made it through to the next economic upswing. Anne said she might not wait and move to Vegas. *sigh*

January will be tough.

Snow flurries all week this week, perfect nights for popcorn and hot chocolate. Whoot!

belated Halloween Pics

Sorry about the delay, the Awful Technology Tyrants (AT&T) decided to shut off the internet for a few days thinking that I had somehow telepathically authorized them to pull me out of Autopay which is the only way they will provide high Speed DSL Service. Makes perfect sense, I know! Right?! RIGHT??

Anyway, here we go with Halloween...

Here we are as a little ghoul, complete with blood all over himself. The alligator is Candy Gator, which is a game we play... kind of an inside joke..

And here we are at Suburban House Number 50, where the decorations were festive and not too scary. The mothers are all polite and friendly, and yes, we did get an Organic Lollypop or three. We ran into a few of Keith's Classmates, which was a little awkward. I still haven't gotten used to living in the suburbs.

This weekend we had a cold snap, complete with snow flurries, and this makes me think that this is the end of our Indian Summer. I put on Keith's coat and the sleeves were far too short, so we headed out for a new winter coat.

Lord O'Mighty but things are cheap!! Kohl's had some great OshKosh Coats for $30!! I got him a great pair of boots for $20!! My Cheap Side was screaming to buy more, but I held off. Prices WILL fall futher as we approach the holidays. Har har, Depression! SCORE!

And Obama won!! Our boy won!! GoBama!! I stayed home during the rally. Reports from the Loops said that the rally made Taste of Chicago look like a Kindergarten Field trip, and I don't do well in crowds. Yes, it was history, but history is going top be made every day for the next four years. I had copious amounts of wine, several tears, so glad that the Imperial Presidency was finally over, and now we can move forward as a nation. *sigh*

Ah, and I think I finally found a solution to the deluge of paperwork coming home every week - THE SCANNER!!

I spent an hour scanning everything that Mr. New has sent home. And now I can share!

According to Keith, this is myself and him on that day we saw the double rainbow. Cool!

Okay, far too much enthusiasm for one night. Time for bed!

Run! Run home, Charlie! And don't stop till you get there!"

I have that music playing in my head as I'm sprinting for the train station. It's been a long day and it will be a long night.

I was up at 5am to get out the door and vote. I got there at six, right at opening time, and there was a half hour wait. Never have I waited so long to vote! I can't say how wonderful it was to vote for the man who I voted into the Senate not too long ago.

Work was a drag. Everyone was out voting I guess, as it was slow and quiet.

But I sprinted out the door and now I'm on the train home. Metra has cancelled many trains in some places and running extras in others. CTA will be running all night to the Obama Rally.

Me? I will be home with my popcorn and box of wine. Keith can stay up as late as he wants. I'm hoping for the best, but today I got a deep twinge of Deja Vu, a feeling that usually precedes bad things. Usually. Not always.

The city is vibrating. Literally. I want to be home when things start happening. And I want Keith to see it. He may not fully understand, but...