Tales from the House of Chaos: March 2011

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Freakshow

Driving to a much needed distraction during what had to be the longest spring break ever from school, JB saw one of the more notable characters in town. Remarking that it was strange to see a man wearing a dress, and wow they had a lot of crazy hair, BW directed "It's not nice to judge people by the way they look... Like ... you shouldn't call someone a freakshow even if they look really weird. It's just not nice."

I don't know which is more impressive; that the character building segments at school are working, or that the boy actually listened to them.

03-31-2011

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

03-30-2011

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

03-29-2011

Monday, March 28, 2011

Red Cell Salesmen

Poor BW. He has, unfortunately, inherited the Gifford family allergies. I'd hoped that if I were to have children, that they would not have to deal with the classic triangle of misery; asthma, allergies and eczema.

One of the profoundly irritating side effects of having allergies are itchy eyes. Once you start rubbing your eyes, the more they'll itch, and then they become red, puffy and feel like you've sand in them. It's a side effect of an immune system that is prepped and ready for war with any germ or enemy, whether they are there or not. The bliss of allergy season.

This year BW has been suffering more-so than usual and in an effort to alleviate his discomfort, I was chatting with him about the itch cycle; if you rub your eyes, it'll itch really badly. The more you rub, the more you'll itch so the more you'll rub and so on.

"I know mama. It's because of the white blood cells. They are the warriors of the body. They get ready to do battles and fight the germs. All sorts of germs. So the white blood cells see the enemy and they eat them up. Only before they eat them, they have to shoot these things at the germs. They look like sling-shots, only without the rubber bands that do the shooting."

"You mean they are shaped like the letter 'Y'?"

"Yes, and so they shoot all these letters at the germs. So I get what you are saying about the itchy eyes... the cells in the immu are ready for war. Only I don't know why they are called cells.

"It doesn't make sense because they aren't trying to sell you anything. And they don't have anything to sell. Not like the red blood cells, they have lots of things they can sell. The red blood cells leave the heart and lungs and go away to really far places and sell their stuff and then they return to the heart to get more stuff. White blood cells don't do that, so are they supposed to be selling things, but they forgot to? SO, I'll try not to itch my eyes because I don't want to have the letters in them. Can we have snack when we get home?"

I wonder if the red blood cells have thought about taking their marketing show on the road. It seems like the white blood cells aren't aware of their potential, at least according to the boy.

03-28-2011

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Too Big

The kids love fruit, all flavors, colors and textures. It's hard to find fruits they don't like. And for the most part it's hard to keep around the house. The exception to this rule tho is that they tend to go 'off' fruit after a particularly intense marathon of sweet goodness, and that happened this week.

Charles is loath to let good food go to waste so one night while prepping for the next day, he wrote a quick note and set it on the table for the kids.

"Eat fruit in the refrigerator."

The next morning, JB was the first one dressed and ready to go for the day. She read the note and in showing it to BW exclaimed "Eat fruit in the fridge? How am I supposed to do that? I'm too big!"

Frankly

There is a wildfire in a town not too far from here. While getting ready for school, we were listening to the news and during an update, it was announced that Franktown was being evacuated.

JB questioned aloud "Franktown, does that mean everyone in town is named Frank?!"

Just as Charles was about to reply, BW responded with

"Frank?"
"What?"
"What?"
"What?"

"That would be a disaster!"

Nuggets

On mornings like this, I can see the positive side of selective hearing… BW & JB were playing outside of our bedroom early in the morning and their conversation went a little something like this…

"It smells like chicken nuggets… because I farted."

"What BW?"

"Chicken nuggets."

"Oh… EW!"

"OH! Now it's starting to smell… Yuck."

"BW!!"

"Now it's gone… Phew."

It's days like this that there simply is not enough coffee.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Good Directions

It was one year ago today that events were set into motion that resulted in the loss of a trusted friend.

I miss you MJV, and I hope that one day you will chose to be friends again.

Friday, March 25, 2011

03-25-2011

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Pencils: reliable, but boring

One morning this past winter while on our way to school after a particularly cold and snowy week, BW and JB were reminiscing over the warmer weather and how much they love summer.

Among their favorite memories are catching fireflies on warm June evenings while visiting family in Pennsylvania.

JB: I miss Pennsylvania. It's my favorite vacation. We get to stay up late, play in all sorts of parks, and the people are always so nice.

BW: It's because of the name of the state.

JB: Pennsylvania?

BW: Actually, it's pronounced PENCIL-vania.

JB: PENCIL-vania? As in a pencil that you write with?

BW: Yes, because the people are so friendly, and hard working. Reliable too. Just like pencils. That's why they named the state after pencils. Because pencils always work. They don't run out of ink like a pen, and if the end gets dull you can sharpen it. Even though they are boring, they are the right tool. That's why they named the state after pencils.

JB: Really? I think you are right.

BW: Yup, the people are like pencils… Reliable, but boring. I can't wait until we can go back.

And yes, the boy actually said the word reliable. What I'm not sure of though, is how I'm supposed to explain to family living in Pennsylvania, pardon me, Pencil-vania the logic of a 6 and 7 year old…

03-24-2011

Words on Paper

It was my senior year of high school when I took a creative writing class.

Up until that point any writing that I'd ever done was part of a class assignment, for homework or on my own. The professor began every class with a 15-minute quite period of journaling in which we were required to write, just write. It could either be a story we’d been mulling over, putting our emerging thoughts onto paper or even just random words… free-writing he called it. We were to put those thoughts, recollections, fears and stories onto paper so they were no longer knocking about in our heads. In getting our creative juices flowing, it was passed along that once we'd put words to paper, we were engaging in creating something tangible… thoughts became words which begat ideas, which conveyed a bit of ourselves…

In the years since then, I’ve thought that recording thoughts onto paper that I was relieving my soul of the troubles and the sorrows that filled it, or in sharing a humorous moment in which some laughter might create a lightness of being.

I'm fortunate for BW and JB, and Charles too for that matter. It is with them that I have the funniest moments, that in observing their interactions I am reminded of the sweetness of family, the illogical logic of a child's mind, their concepts and the magic of a child growing and learning and evolving into a full person.

One friend, after hearing (and seeing) a particularly animated story of the kids, commented that we must laugh a lot at our house. To that I had to admit that we do… but that it usually follows a long period of exasperation. For as clever and creative as the buggers are, they sure can drive a mama mad. Charles, I'm convinced, is trying to pretend that this is all one long dream, and that someday he will wake up and we'll have gone back to 'normal'.

You know, normal.

Normal, where the weekends are spent traveling, cooking, enjoying a glass or two of wine. Perhaps even reading a book from cover to cover… or the unthinkable; watching a movie without having to 'pause' it unless you WANT to. Not because the sound of little feet are telling you that one of your offspring are about to pop into the room and ask YET ANOTHER question. Not because you haven't met the golden moment of cinema… you know, the one where you started the movie late enough into the evening that the children are asleep and there is just enough time for the movie to finish before you fall asleep… where you actually GET to see the credits, and not because you woke up to the finale music?

Poor man. BW and JB are the new normal.

So, we do laugh. I know though that it can a challenge as well, raising these two never-not-known-of-each-other friends. They tend to gang up on us. I just hope that in relaying the latest story that I actually get to remember the last part of it… I'm still recovering from staying up too late the FINALLY see the end of the movie.

What it was about though, please don't ask… I saw that part three months ago.

The Weird Thing

During innocent play in the hallway connecting their rooms...

BW: They stay up late to make sure we go to sleep, so we don't steal food.

JB: That's weird.

BW: Yah, I know... we are a weird family. But it's ok. That's our special thing. Every family has a special thing, and that's ours. It is weird, but its the way we are.

You'd think by the way they talk about food, that a famine is underway. Not that they would even have a clue about such things.