head south young man

you guessed! things have gone back to extremely volatile again. not sure what the hell it's all about but i am SO over it. cancelling at the last second, angrily questioning why we should give my mom $20 a week for watching the kids (instead of paying a huge sum in daycare?), speaking to me (and my mom for that matter) in condescending and pissy tones (in front of the kids). i suspect that once he realized that watching the kids more frequently wasn't going to be 'good for him' in a financial way he decided it was too much work for too little benefit.

he cancelled tuesday while i was working at the market. my mom wound up keeping the kids. he was suspicious and rude on the phone. he took them yesterday and was calling me by 7.30 asking when he could bring them home. when he DID bring them home i told him that maybe he should take the kids on saturdays instead of tuesdays. 'as long as it isn't as early as sunday mornings. i will literally die if i have to do that two mornings in a row.' 8 in the morning? really? i looked up from the counter and he said 'don't give me that dirty ass look. i still work!' and left. GAH! SERIOUSLY? really?

seriously? all the hundreds of nights that i have been woken up by kids, comforted them back to sleep? all the mornings i've gotten up when i was still tired? the barfy sheets? the NO money i got for us for 14 months? the doctors/therapists/dentists appointments, tucking ins, diaper changes, baths, meals, errands, the shuttling to and from? EVERYTHING! i have done everything! and yet, it has NO value to him. it doesn't count for anything. and he's going to be pissy and complainy and dead weightish FOREVER. and it fucking pisses me off!!!

yes, i sound like a 'really!?! with seth and amy'

i have a ton to post about but i'm too pissed and tired to face it tonight. chapter two of the goddamn children's book.

Chapter Two: Spit Holds the World Together

My favorite place in the world is way up in my treehouse in our front yard. As you can imagine, the house is sometimes pretty noisy but the treehouse is always quiet and I can make noise of my own. The treehouse is where I keep my most prized posessions, including my “Fascist Rulers of the World Collectible Trading Cards,” a signed copy of Helter Skelter (which my grammy gave me last Christmas), and of course my long-haired Peruvian guinea pig.

My long-haired Peruvian guinea pig is called Sparky because of his propensity to chew on electrical cords. Mama says I should have named him “Lucky” instead and told me it might be best if he lived up in the treehouse where there are no live wires. Guniea pigs are strictly vegetarians which is nice because I hate vegetables. My mama says that Sparky and I have a symbiotic relationship, which means that it is mutually beneficial. I’m not sure which one of us is the tickbird and which one of us is the rhinoceros!

There is a pillow case hanging in the doorway to the treehouse that says in big, fat, black lettering: “NO BROTHERS ALLOWED!” and it looks like with the newest edition to our family I’m gonna have to add another line that says “NO SISTERS ALLOWED EITHER!” Pretty much the only person allowed in my treehouse, besides me, is Eliza.

Eliza is my best friend in the whole wide world. We got to be pals in the first grade when I was spinning in circles on the tire swing that hangs from a giant oak tree during recess. Eliza was sitting way high up in the branches practicing spitting, for who knows what reason. Well wouldn’t you know it, but one of those loogies lanned plop-dab in between my pigtails. When I looked up to see what variety of bird had pooped on me all I saw was Eliza scrambling down the trunk of that tree.

“Spit on me!” she said as she grabbed my hands and clutched them in hers.

“What?”

“Spit on me!

“Why?”

"Because I spit on you!"

So, I did. It was at that moment that I knew Eliza and I would be best friends for life. She has a sense about what is right and wrong in this silly world.

Now, Eliza and I are in the fourth grade at Daves Avenue Elementary School. We have never been in the same class until this year and our teacher, Mrs. Duff, says that if she has anything to say about it, we’ll never be in the same class again. We were allowed to sit next to each other for one week only, at which point she relagated us to different sides of the classroom.

Though Mrs. Duff may not display a great fondness for children, her love of animals is almost feverish and rivals mine. In our classroom, she keeps two doves (Beau and Peep, who coo incessantly during the day), a hamster (Jinx, who has an uncanny ability to digest anything we put into his cage, including erasers and paperclips), seven hermit crabs (nameless little critters, who do absolutely nothing of any interest to anyone but me), and a chinchilla (Sootsie, who requires fresh ashes every Monday).

lame update & children's fiction

packaged 200 truffles & figs. ben and dad have spent the entire day replenishing our sold out inventory. needless to say, sunday's market went well. tomorrow we have our first day at the city hall market. woop woop. i'm exhausted.

and therefore...i'm reverting to some old writings i did in college. i took a bunch of creative classes at scu. the story i'm sharing this week is from a class i took on writing fiction for children. awesome and fun and funny class. never came up with a title for this...

Chapter One: Fish Prints, People Prints

There used to be a giant catfish called Sammy in a big old tank until one day he went bonkers and thrashed around so much that he hit his head on the aerator and died. Mrs. Duff saw this as a wonderful opportunity for us to memorialize him and retrieved him from the tank so we could pass him around and make fish prints with paint and construction paper. I hung mine in my tree house because my mama thought that, what with the blood turning the yellow paint orangish, it was much too morbid for the house house.

*****

My name is Josephine but most everybody calls me Joey because I fancy myself a tomboy. My mama named me after the wife of Napolean Bonaparte because she knew by my kicks—before I was even born—that I was gonna be strong. She says any woman that would’ve married a man like that must’ve been strong. She also says that it is possible to be strong and feminine at the same time, but I’m not so sure about that.

If you are gonna know anything about me, I guess you’ll need to hear a little bit about my family. A person’s family can explain a whole lot about a person.

My papa was orphaned when he was just a little ‘tater-tot. His parents were regrettably killed in a freak accident involving piano. He was sent to live with the Sisters of the Soil, a small sect of nuns who modeled themselves after American Indians and lived off the land. As a child my papa developed an interest in alternative kinds of recycling and this led to his career as a vermiculturist. To support our family, he manages acres and acres of worms whose sole purpose in this life is to eat trash and make compost. My papa says that a man who works in the dirt with worms may not be rich, but he sure is happy. I think he is where I got my great love of animals.

My mama comes from a family of twelve brothers. My grammy calls her “lucky thirteen.” If you can believe it, each one of my uncles has married but not a single one has procreated. I guess they are leaving the grandbaby-makin’ up to my mama and papa and my mama is happy to oblige. Mama says, your papa works very hard but I have the world’s hardest and most rewarding job, thank you very much. Her official title is “Baby-Wrangler-Extraordinaire-Slash-Household-Runner-Specialist.” I think she is where I got my great aversion of baby brothers.

My triplet brothers, Barry, Maurice, and Robin (born in that order and named after the Brothers Gibb) are just about two and a half years old and full of spunk. Barry is a climber, Maurice is a hair puller, and Robin is the kind of kid that holds onto your pant leg and screams bloody murder when you are trying to leave to go somewhere important. And if you don’t think three brothers are enough, my mama is now exceedingly pregnant with what she calls an innocent mistake! You see, my papa is the kind of man who goes up on the roof to nail down a shingle and forgets the hammer in the garage. Mama says that she’ll be in charge of birth control from now on, especially since she has been known to bring babies into this world in groups of three.

chapter two to follow. and rest easy, there are only three chapters. never had to finish it. ;) and yes, i coined tater-tot before britney spears.

he was

still life

for all my pleading, leave me unfettered,
you heard all that i’d left unspoken.
forced the light, shine my transparency.

love, i never expected to wake so still-
life, for all its particulars, might’ve been different
and was; i found myself no longer pencil-sketched.

you painted the acrylic of hair,
carefully smudged pastels for skin,
left watercolors to pool inside of me.

frenemies

bk came this morning to take the kids since he missed his visitation on wednesday. we talked for a while about how things will be changing now that s&b has started at the market(s). he committed to taking them every sunday from 8 until 3, which is huge, more than it's been in over a year. we're doing the tuesday afternoon market also and he's agreed to take them from 5 until 8 those evenings. he said last week that it would be good for him to have the kids more and it all seemed a bit too good to be true. *pause* 'so, what does all this mean for child support?' i explained that since he's already paying well under the state minimum that it means nothing, for now. we have an agreement. it's over. it's done. and unless i start making a million dollars a week here real quick i've got no sympathy for his plight. he's living in a ridiculously overpriced apartment (i mean, more than double the going rate) and in debt to his eyeballs but still, it's all about choices. just make the right fucking choices for once. spend some time with the kids. oh yeah, and pay me that back support you owe me...i'm almost caught up!

and for some reason, with the four of us sitting in the kitchen (d and ben were at the shooting range...and i'll save superdad the trouble: BOY ARE WE WHITETRASH!) i started crying. miss p was on her dad's lap and kept accidentally calling bk by the name she calls d. 'stop calling me that! i'm daddy.' *snickers* (he actually took it quite well, better than i would have...) 'renzo was being his usual wacky almost three-year old self. the whole thing is ridiculous and sad. *le sigh*

on letting go or everything, everything zen

this is the first time since 'the day the bad thing happened' that the bad thing has felt far away, out of reach, part of a restless night's sleep. i have so clearly defined my own life, my own goals, my own self that i can't imagine being who i was anymore. i'm backsliding less - no longer crying for what was, what might have been, what will never be. a part of me will always be sad for losing the best friend i ever had and the seemingly irreparable pain that his disappearance caused our daughter. but a larger part of me will be proud of the strength and resilience and integrity i've modeled for the kids. i no longer feel the need to tell random strangers that somebody left me. instead i tell them about the life i've built since i struck out on my own. i didn't realize i had dreams of bigger things, ownership in the truest sense - of my career, my love life, my boundaries. and ownership is different than control because it isn't driven by fear. it's less about seeking outward approval and more about making sure the inside is lined up with the outside.

and all of this would be to say to r/bk if i could

step up. if you can't - or won't - we'll be fine. we are fine. but now is your chance and i really do believe that there will come a time when it will be too late to change your mind. you'll regret this - the time missed, the reams and reams of little girl artwork, the little boy lisp that your son is outgrowing by the day. it's passing before your eyes. yes, raising children is a near death experience.

newsflash

i sent an email to the teacher and he informed me that the student is 'deeply disturbed.' i told him that i hoped he'd show the paper to the administration because my gut initial reaction was that this kid might bring a gun to school...

and yes, had the student's paper been well argued i certainly would've given him a grade reflective of that. there are always papers i disagree with, but as long as they're logically argued i don't mark down. particularly on papers like this that look at ethical questions. everything has two sides. that said, this paper was illogical and felt like it had undertones of violence, not sarcasm. really sad.

if i didn't think i'd get fired

i'd scan and post the entire 10 page senior research paper on why equal rights for women have spelled disaster for the world. i'd tell you why this kid thinks that there are 'strong correlations' between the rising numbers of women in congress and the 'collapse of our financial sector, increase in CO2 gasses, and the skyrocketing of crime rates.' oh YES HE DID. i had to stop grading four pages in because i thought i might rip this piece of shit the hell up. SOSOSOSO bad. seriously, over the top and i'm not a radical feminist that believes the entire structure of the US needs to be torn down. WORST PAPER EVAH!

Michele R. August 10, 1950 - April 15, 2009

Michele "Mickey" R., 58, died on April 15th at her home in Illinois.

She was born August 10, 1950 to George and Norma in Joliet, IL. The oldest of six, she is survived by five siblings. Michele graduated from St. Francis Academy in Joliet, IL. She married Ray .on March 22, 1969. She and Ray lived in Colorado, Ohio, and Michigan before returning to Illinois to raise their family. She is survived by her husband and four children, Jenna, Natalie , Antonia and her husband Laurence and Mark and his fiancée Katie.

Michele was a member of St. Mary's Catholic Church where she taught CCD for many years. She was a member of the local Lioness Club and a leader in the local 4-H Club. She also loved flower gardening, traveling, as well as creating and experiencing great food. Most of all she enjoyed supporting her family in all their endeavors.

Michele was an antiques collector and she owned GH Antiques in IL for the past 20 years. A lifelong artist, Michele worked in various media and found a passion in creating her own line of jewelry, GH Jewelry.

The family would like to extend their gratitude for all the prayers and support during Michele's illness.

One cute item to note: true to my mom’s form- she didn’t want anyone to miss work because of her so she asked us to plan for a Friday night wake and Saturday morning funeral service. Love to all, Natalie

wherein we kick ass at the farmers' market

i am beyond thrilled to report that we did awesome at the farmers' market today. we set ourselves a reasonable (but hopeful) goal and we beat it... three times over. we were offered a spot at a second farmers' market that takes place tuesday nights at the city hall in downtown san jose. we were offered a spot at a chocolate festival at a prominent winery!

we learned a few things: bring your own SHADE. we have a tent but didn't think that we'd need sun blocks on the sides. (thankfully my stepmom ran out for supplies before much of the chocolate melted!) trays and trays of ice are going to be necessary as it was 92 freakin' degrees today. also, one table was so not enough. (i see a trip to target in my near future.) while the farmers' market only lasts from 9-1 the day was loooong (up at 7 and done around 2.30) and we're exhausted, but elated!

same time next week! we're really doing this ya'll!

the time is upon us

and we're SO excited! snake & butterfly will be making its public debut at the campbell farmers' market this sunday from 9.00 until 1.00! we have a very meager goal set for ourselves and i KNOW we're going to blow it out of the water. come and say hi if you're in the area! we'll have a big banner at our booth so we shouldn't be too hard to spot! :D

a day of silence for aunt mickey - r.i.p.

my aunt fought a valiant fight against ovarian cancer and passed away in her sleep at home. she leaves behind an adoring husband, three daughters, and a son.

i stand on my head and other things

ben's been doing yoga for evah and evah and he's finally teaching me (hatha yoga btw). i'm so bad about sticking with things and i'm hoping that this will be my 'thing. i felt awesome this morning after the first time and it was cute to see miss p sit in a lotus pose. :D

and since i'm stiiiiiillll grading, here's my short answers (long answers to follow) to the ethical questions:

euthanasia: is it ethical for one to choose to end their life? should individuals have the legal right to do so? i am strongly in favor of legalizing euthanasia nationwide. i did an extensive research paper on this in college and feel like this is a no brainer.

sex ed in public schools: abstinence only or comprehensive sex education? another no brainer: comprehensive sex education. abstinence only education does not reduce teen pregnancies or stds.

prostitution: should it be legal? yes, legal, taxed, and regulated.

glbt adoption: should gays and lesbians be permitted to adopt? um, hello? YES.

ethnic relations: should the US get involved in civil wars, genocides, or international conflicts with foreign nations? er, this one is more complicated. yes and no. it completely depends on the situation.

human embryonic stem cell research: should aborted fetuses/failed in vitro embryos be used in stem cell research? definately.

death penalty and the mentally ill: i'm 100% against the death penalty across the board. make that double for minors and the mentally ill.

torture: is it ever ethical? no way.

taxes: are they ethical? a bummer? yes. ethical? yes. they suck but they suck for a good reason. we need taxes. perhaps higher taxes even.

2nd trimester d&c abortions: ethical? i wouldn't want to have one. i don't like to think about them even. that said, i won't vote for anything that limits a woman's right to choose what happens in her own body.

gun control: more? less? more, in certain areas.

eeeeeeaster & our motley crew

very mellow day. didn't get around to coloring eggs yet but we did manage to eat lamb, potatoes cooked in cream, and swiss chard with garlic. and THIS:

six days a week and compelling ethical issues

okay, so i've gotten super lax about writing and my muscles are getting weak. i'm going write six days a week (prolly skip saturdays), rain or shine. that said, i have to push through this looooong week and finish up 300 more pages of grading. in that spirit... the aim of these (mostly okay) papers is to explore an ethical question in a 10 page research paper. these are seniors, though not honors. you can help me write this post by weighing in on some of the topics the students brought up. answer one or all...yes or no, or loooong ass answers. i'll be answering each question in detail this weekend/next week. thrilling? i thought so. well, this crap always brings out the trolls and spices things up. (i'll also let you know how students are responding as i grade the papers. these are actually really really solid and interesting. and no, i'm not letting my personal feelings about the issues play into the grade i give them. well argued papers get good grades. poorly argued papers don't.)

euthanasia: is it ethical for one to choose to end their life? should individuals have the legal right to do so? one student says yes on all kinds of euthanasia. another says yes only on passive and self-administered euthanasia, but NOT active euthanasia.

sex ed in public schools: abstinence only or comprehensive sex education?

prostitution: should it be legal? GAH! two poorly argued papers, both in favor of legalization (which i happen to agree with). one argument FOR legalizations says that 'you don't have to be that good looking.' hehe

glbt adoption: should gays and lesbians be permitted to adopt? one very compellingly written paper: YES on glbt adoption.

ethnic relations: should the US get involved in civil wars, genocides, or international conflicts with foreign nations?

human embryonic stem cell research: should aborted fetuses/failed in vitro embryos be used in stem cell research? two students say yes, human embryonic stem cell research should be allowed.

death penalty and the mentally ill: is it ethical to kill mentally ill people for their crimes?

torture: is it ever ethical?

taxes: are they ethical?

2nd trimester d&c abortions: ethical?

gun control: more? less?

on why it's easier to write when you're heartbroken

yeah, so i'm in love. that comfortable, easy-going kind of love where embarrassing things begin to not be embarrassing. that less scary phase when you don't feel the need to be with someone 24/7 or make dramatic romantic gestures. that unrushed kind of love. things are different with d... he's his own person. i don't feel the need (or desire) to make him into someone he isn't. i respect him because he's a strong, opinionated (omg), upstanding man. i suspect that part of my initial attraction to him was reactionary; his dissimilarity to bk is unbelievable. that said, i'm a better person with d. ultimately i think i love him most because he challenges me in areas that i was complacent in my relationship with bk.

i think the lack of struggle is making me feel guilty and off-kilter again. i can't get over these feelings of regret for who i was with/to r. he wasn't always bk, and while he has always been one of the most passive people you'll ever meet, he certainly didn't deserve (then) the unattainable standards i set for him. i've gotten past angry. and jealous. and irritation. and surprise. but, i just can't seem to get past the guilt thing.

i have a really hard time writing when i'm happy. things just don't flow in the same easy way. i've always wanted (needed) something to struggle against in order to be creative. even when i've been in love before (aside from r) i've chosen people who are wrong or angsty or far away. i spent the summer before i was married 'with' a close friend who lived far away. i cried ever time i left him. and every time i came home i wrote more prolifically than i ever had (and have, excluding the year after bk left). it's a good feeling. but not so good as to make me ruin the best thing around. i'll have to start telling some of those old stories i guess.

the one where i've run out of things to say

gah! out of 49 people in the lottery for the awesome public charter school... miss p was pulled #44. yeah. (incidentally my friend's son was #47). time to start getting excited about our awesome neighborhood school! eh? eh???

and in unrelated news... miss p told my step-mom that her daddy makes her eat right before she comes home (even if she isn't hungry) so that i know they're being fed. (and likely so that i don't offer to send them with a chicken breast or alternative animal protien...) *scratches head* i am suuuuuper against making kids eat when they aren't hungry. no clean plate club here. this has been the most confusing part of co-parenting for me, in part because he and i were on the same page about the kids and their eating habits. since he's become a vegan our ideals have become uhhh...disparate. again, at this point, since they're hardly ever there it isn't a huge deal to me. just shit i didn't used to have to consider.

among civilians

d & i attended my aunt and uncle's beautiful wedding reception at la playa hotel (omg) in carmel. tired but in a good way... i've apparently overcome my fear of nuptials. ;) pictures to follow.

and so so so much grading to do so it'll likely be quiet around here.

more senseless nonsense (is that redundant?)

all of which is to say that we are now a DIAPER-FREE HOUSEHOLD. about two weeks ago mr. baby completed his potty learning and is now diaper-free, day and night. for the first time in over five years there's no cloth, no plastic, no potty chair. (that last one i sold on craigslist for $10 and bought the three of us lunch!) once we got past the initial hurdle of stubborness he was out of dipes in a week. neener.

i feel like ordering myself an official dickbutt shirt to congratuate myself on my superior parenting abilities. acutally, i'd settle for just about anything on to topatoco site. *le sigh*
(thanks mom for finding this shirt. i'd prolly wear it if you bought it. i'm just sayin' is all...)

ladies and gents, i give you...

cake wrecks: 'when professional cakes go horribly, hilariously wrong'

this is why you're fat: 'where dreams become heart attacks' (bacon-wrapped meatloaf with a layer of mac and cheese)

THIS NEXT ONE IS NOT WORK SAFE! however (because?), it does contain hilarious pictures of men in underwear and hanes her way panties. also, check out the vaguely creepy 'let's talk' section. only $30 for 20 minutes of undie talk... what a steal! i especially enjoy the crappy photography and the countless spelling/grammar errors!

'It's our private secret! Panties are marketed to women, but a lot of men enjoy wearing them because they have a special feel to the skin and fit like a glove. BriefTales.com offer sheer panties and men's panties. You can also view men in panties while shopping for panties for men. Because it's difficult and embarrasing for a man to shop for panties at the mall, BriefTales can help. You're not alone in your enjoyment of wearing panties. Go ahead, enjoy yourself. Permission is granted to try our Bikinis, Hi cut, Full-cut and Brief style panties.'