Tuesday, April 28, 2009

tv talk, well, if I could speak

As being sick goes, laryngitis has some advantages. I feel well enough to exercise and if I were a good frau, I could, in theory, clean my house because when I'm alone, it's not a big deal. I'm following the doctor's WebMD's advice and not clearing my throat and resting my voice, drinking tea.

But then. The kids come home and they ask questions from other rooms and when I don't answer - duh - they just keep saying 'Mom?' until I come to them and stomp my foot. I'm so proud of my very mature behavior.

Just add a husband to the mix and I was exhausted by then the end of the night, for clearly I am a blabbermouth most days and no one, including me, knows how to respond to this, 'you must make eye contact with me to hear me' thing.

Enough complaining. Let's turn our attention to sweeps, just around the corner, and I will fess up to some of my favorites, littering my DVR settings.

Some are obvious. Dollhouse was a given for me this year because I am ridiculously loyal to Joss Whedon. It started a bit slow, but every week, I am grow more curious to see where he is going with this show. (Others have said more astute things about long story arcs and such, but it's suffice to say I have FAITH in Joss, amen. I trust his storytelling.)

And the neo-X-files show that feels a bit like LOST? Well, I like me some Fringe because my inner nerd loves the unexplained. (Is reddish hair a prerequisite to supernatural investigations? See? Lots to think about.)
I broke up with Grey's Anatomy when Lexie announced she was Meredith's sister while they were pulling gurneys out of an ambulance a couple of seasons ago - because who does that? - but I eventually made amends with the medical drama just in time to cry during every damn episode this year. I fold laundry and tear up, which leads me to believe that the writing is great or I am unstable.

Moving on...

Ahhh, Saving Grace. Holly Hunter's Grace character is gritty and promiscuous and delightful and unapologetic.

Leon Rippy's chuckle alone - the lighthearted guardian angel, sent to save Grace - makes the show for me.

Now for my favorites, something old and something new. Have you checked out Castle? Okay, it's a formula we're all familiar with ala Moonlighting but Nathan Fillion plays his rascally role so well that I am sending him to the Cabana to frolic with the other menfolk at The Women's Colony.

And where would I be without LOST? Now that we've moved past the whole 'how to get off the island thing', I am loving this mind-bending show. I have big hopes for this season's finale...

Now I'm off, off the couch and moving. I feel like a slug after admitting to all this couch potato behavior.

What are your favorites, dear readers? I know, I know, you don't watch TV, right? I feel so ashamed...

Monday, April 27, 2009

soup for the muted mama

The sneezing and wheezing of the weekend has blossomed into a fine case of laryngitis, leaving me to mime my way through the morning.

Lexi was watching GMA with me this morning, and became alarmed about the dang swine flu. I point at myself and shake my head no, and pretend to wash my hands, my answer for all creepy crud. She read a book about the 1918 pandemic and all this swine flu talk has freaked her out, that is until she remembered that the cities that took precautions were the safest back then, and being cautious is probably a good idea now.


This eases her mind and eases my throat because mothering in a whisper is crazy torture fun.

So, I'm stirring up a spicy soothing soup that's a snap to make and perfect for a sore throat.

  • quart of chicken stock, straight from my freezer
  • can of coconut milk, which is full of the good fats and is supposed to be very good for you. I should link informative articles about it here, but I am too tired to pull it off. I'm more in a Coconut Milk Good, and tasty place than a naming my sources place, and for that I am truly sorry. [I'm sorry she said in a small whisper.]
  • fresh ginger, sliced
  • red pepper flakes, to taste
  • cup or so of cooked chicken
  • salt & pepper to taste
I throw it all in a pot and slowly heat it.

I plan on sipping mine slowly, while folding laundry and watching far too much TV.

Thursday, April 23, 2009


I first spotted her sputtering on my porch, greasy silver hair pulled up an octopus clip on top of her head. She was agitated, angry. Anguished.

Two thoughts came to me at once: the elderly woman throwing a tantrum was from across the street, an in-home resident care facility, and Lexi was bouncing a tennis ball, right around the corner.

I stepped into the garage as my daughter burst into tears, and I noticed one of the paid caregivers, on the sidewalk, on the phone.

I ushered Lexi inside and waited for her custodian to come to my aid, blocking the entrance into my home as she pleaded and wailed.

I was filled with sympathy and alarm and useless; Russian words spilling on my ignorant ears.

Her minder approached and handed her the phone, and I stepped inside the house, locking the door behind me.

I wondered what kind of person locks the door on a confused old lady? Her mind was muddled, but her body was strong and she was forceful. She yelled after me; shook the door, rattled the knob and pounded until Zack climbed into my lap, visibly frightened.

Eventually, she wandered out of our garage, around the corner, the woman in scrubs trailing behind her and I tried to answer Zack's questions: Why did she want in our house? Why was she angry? Why was she crying?

I don't know but something tells me she was living in another time and space, somewhere far from here, reliving days at dusk, before she came to this strange land and became a stranger to herself.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Monday, April 20, 2009

taste of summer

I had a bright idea: the sun was out and the tulips were in bloom. We canceled other plans - sorry Lord - and headed to the Wooden Shoe Tulip Farm.

Our day didn't have a strong start. What began as a 'I think I'll find a bathroom first' comment on the winding roads there, soon became a quest when it took well over an hour to creep two stinking miles to the entrance. I may or may not have leaped out of our idling car, with my pants undone and walked the rest of the way in, putting aside all social niceties because at 38, I've never been so desperate for an outhouse in my life. I almost cried, best beloveds, and then I peed. I know you are cringing, but crying for heaven's sake. That's ugly.

Once I could think straight again, I realized I didn't bail with my phone or purse or GPS chip. I was relieved, yet in a wash of sunburnt palefaces and strollers. I counted two Boston terriers, but couldn't spot my people.

And when I did find my family and my beleaguered husband - did I mention this was all my idea? - we settled in a long line for tacos. I tried to make funnies about fast passes but he was not humored. He may or may not have said the next time he wants to see tulips, he will fly to Amsterdam because it would be faster and at least he could get stoned while he was there.

[See? The funny was back.]

We entered the wine tasting gardens while the kids took over the exclusive bounce house.
We oohed and ah-ed over flowers, and bought a case of wine from the Naked Winery, out of Hood River, Oregon.
It was a fine spring day, dressed in July and time well spent together.

Thursday, April 16, 2009


It's the first day in weeks that I've had a day more or less to myself. I've been plotting, greedy for these hours of solitude, this introvert's balm.

I should be cleaning, writing, napping, reading...

Yet, I am restless and a bit lonely, which makes no sense at all because I have been Ms. Social this year.

I have made new friends, and reached out to old vintage ties that have stood the test of time. I don't take my friendships and family for granted; there was a time when the kids were young when I lived on my own private island, tucked away and desperately lonesome.

But Greg has been working long hours and with the kids gone, the house is too quiet. Even Courtney has curled up in her crate, snoring away the afternoon, ignoring my call.

Something tells me this will pass, but I've been living out of balance for a while now, saying yes when I really have been exhausted.

Something tells me a little down time, a little rest might be what the doctor ordered.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

fast as lightening

Rumor has it that someone in my neighborhood had a slumber party for 8 year old Kung Fu Panda Warriors. Can you believe such nonsense? Who in their right mind would do such a thing? Oh wait.

party favors
There was noodle relay races and marshmallows to be nabbed by chopsticks; candy sushi to go.*

kung fu panda master
Birthday boy and guests learned martial art moves and then took to the backyard with ammo and nerf guns, fighting over bullets and taking sides.

(I had a Che flashback.)
Lexi & easter eggs
And suddenly, it was Easter.
zack and the easter eggs
[I'm a little taken aback too Zack. That's how I have felt for weeks now.]

*Yes, yes: I've been taken to task by my 2nd grader over it too. I realize Po the Kung Fu Panda was in China and sushi is a Japanese treat. However, I heard that Po went on to have many great adventures in Japan, *after* the movie and being the great foodie that he is, he came to love sushi. So it works. It does.

Monday, April 13, 2009

a brief hello

There are dishes on the dining room table waiting to be cleared; clutter and slumber party debris are still littering the floor around my feet.

There are 206 new posts in my reader.

There is new nerve pain in my feet; my daughter is bruised and splinted after spraining her wrist (here's hoping) at volleyball practice last night.

And the phone is ringing.

I miss my blog.

I will be back tomorrow, pinky swear.

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

I may have been Toto

Despite being dead on my feet by 9 pm last night, I went on to toss and turn, creating a new nocturnal yoga routine I am not recommending if you need to, I don't know, function the next day.

(See exhibit A, the matrimilton: Elephant pajamas, check! Moaning & groaning, check!)

I felt resourceful when I woke from a fanciful dream around four, and thought: Well, at least I know what my post will be about today.

And can I remember my dream now and that brilliant post? Nah.

There were dancing, singing pets and you were there. And you. And you. It might have been equal parts Beverly Hills Chihuahua and The Wizard of Oz.

We'll never know, but I'm banking on a strong cup of coffee to get me through my date with a mounting pile of laundry.

Monday, April 06, 2009

spring break was good and then it came to an end

We tried our best to ignore Morning, but it came, just the same, ushered in with dueling alarm clocks and deep sighs.

Zack came downstairs, surly and allergy stricken until his sister reminded him she too wanted to ditch school on the warmest day of the year, but she was 'sucking it up', and he upped his grouchy quotient by about 42%.

I dosed them with the appropriate pills - all this sunshine equals a whole lot of pollen - and sent them on their merry way.

My kids like to accuse me of being a bit too giddy when school resumes after a break, and I guess that's fair. I adore my sweet kids and I loved the break we savored and shared: museums, and swimming, and golf and PLAY PLAY PLAY, seeing friends and going to readings. And because we did it up right, I am content to have the house to myself, these quiet moments making the rest possible as I piece myself back together again with tea and words.

Saturday, April 04, 2009

40 looks good on you

mom and dad at uso show

Happy anniversary to my sweet parents, celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary in Disneyland today.

We love you, to Space Mountain and back.