Notes for Next year:

NO PROPS!

What works excellently for trick or treating (and, by the way, it totally DID work for t-o-t), does NOT work for parties or work. Having your costume lying in a corner because you cannot function while holding it, or are afraid you're going to put someone's eye out in close quarters? Fail.

Everyone at the party had couples costumes, so next year I'll try to make that happen, too. The Honey is outta luck in terms of hooched up. I have to be able to wear it to work and trick or treat with my kid in it. I also have to come up with something that the Honey will wear. He's muuuch more conservative about which costumes he'll wear. I was thinking about Boris & Natasha, although really, I should give that to our Host and Hostess from this year's party. They are very aware that she is taller than he is (Whereas I don't care that I am taller than the Honey) and she's already slim and dark haired. She could rock the tight purple dress. But her man wore a Mario costume all night, so she can talk him into anything. Just getting the Honey into all black would make my life much easier.

On a separate note, getting Little O Disney's Sing It has just re-affirmed my belief that my kid is sweet thanks to a lack of cable in her life. Even Disney would be too much. Maybe especially Disney. I know that Shar-Pay is a caricature, but does Miss Priss? We had a long talk about how she behaves towards people, because Little O loves singing her song, but it kind of makes me queasy to hear her sing it.

There's a whole generation out there that has grown up watching that shit unsupervised, because Mom & Dad think Disney's okay. Those are the same kids that worship Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian, and think it's okay to order a "Fitness pole" for your room at 16 (Don't ask, it's a long horrible story).

Big O has kind of settled into a groove as he starts high school, so I am a little less worried about him. Little O is wobbling in an interesting spot. Yesterday she said to me,

"When I sing that song at school, it's almost like there's these girls that are listening and laughing at me. It's like they sneak up on me. Isn't that WIERD?"

Apparently, when I drop her off in the mornings, if none of her friends are there yet, she plays Hannah Montana by herself. I love that she is so blissfully unaware of how mean girls can be. I hope she gets to continue being that blissfully unaware. Nobody needs to learn THAT lesson in the first grade.

Sigh.

A nice cozy Sunday listening to my seven year old tunelessly singing along to her new Disney sing-it for the wii.

It's kind of my definition of a perfect Sunday except for the Honey being stuck at work and no Big O.

I am a fairly laid back parent. I don't do hysteria and drama. So my reaction caught me of guard when the Ex told me he was at the Urgent Care with Big O. He's got the flu. Yeah, the Dr. at the clinic says it's probably THE Flu. The Ex said he may as well keep him there to keep it away from Miss Priss and the Elder contingent on our side (Mrs. G & Mama Dina). I appreciate that. But. My boy is sick.


I want him here, logic be damned. The blogosphere is full of horrifying H1N1 stories. Feel better, Bubby. I'm busting the door down if your dad says you're still sick Monday.

I blame Anne Geddes.

I do not have any weird Flemish art in jigsaw puzzle form. Am I depriving my kids? Was this yet another way my parents snuck culture into my life? Because this picture was THE epic jigsaw of my childhood, and one of the measures of how grown up I was...how far could I get before I gave up and put it away for another few years?

Little O (Who turned 7 today, by the way, but I'm ignoring that particular trauma--my baby!) has strawberry shortcake and My Little Pony puzzles, and there is a Baby Bee puzzle from Anne Geddes that still has not been opened, although she is very interested-- for about three minutes.

This concludes my random thought for the day.

Holy Holy Water, Batman!

Yep. It's done.

Little O was entranced by her Rosemary rosary. :)

Her padrinos got a band. Technically, there were TWO bands. Insane!

I thik a good time was had by all, although I am still deaf in one ear from the band. Next up? Halloween!

Cowbell, or Jellyfish? I also need a smoking jacket for the Honey, who will be going as the devil. I got him some great horns...

I'm crazy. That's why.

Little O is finally getting baptized.

It has blown up to a huge party thing, from a simple sprinkling of holy water and some lunch with her padrinos afterward.

I apparently hurt the feelings of Favorite sister in law by not choosing her to be the godmother.

I told Little O that she is going to start going to church and her face just crumpled. Since I hadn't imagined she'd have any objection, I was *ahem* taken aback at her reaction...was I raising the devil child?

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Mama, church is in SPANISH. I don't understand it."

Poor baby. We always take the Honey's mom for high holy days, and it IS always in Spanish. I explained that she could go to the English services, and she cheered right up.

But her baptism will be in Spanish. I don't think their priest speaks more than a few words in English. I wish Father Dan were here. He could do it in Spanish AND English--but I think he would make us do the whole classes thing. He was my friend Leisa's priest, and he agreed with me back in the day that you don't do the wink-wink kind of thing in God's house. I knew Big O's dad wasn't taking him to church, so why would I lie and say we were going to raise him as a Catholic?

Little O is going to have to go to church regularly. I will get her dressed up and delivered to Sunday school at least twice a month. In the wonderful world of Mexican Catholicism, that will be plenty. If we hurry with the catechism classes she can wear the same dress for confirmation. :)

Big O was in another quinceanera a few weeks ago, and I picked up the caterer's card. Little O saw it and leaned over to me and said,

"Mama, did you get their card so we can call them for MY quinceanera?"

Oh, sweet pea, you have so many dreams for me to crush...

Did you know?

I have the world's greatest teenage boy.

 

I have lots of Little O stories, because kids that age are so funny, discovering the world.  I write more about the struggles with Big O because, well, he's hitting those hormonal, homework filled years. 

 

Last night, as I was scrambling for dinner before I took him to quinceanera practice, I asked Big O to walk his sister next door to visit with Mrs. G.  He did NOT whine or complain or even heave a big sigh, he just paused as he walked out and asked me not to log him out, as he was chatting with one of his friends on MySpace.  

 

He was back two minutes later, the Big G had sent him back to get some sidewalk chalk, because she wanted the three of them to play a game.  He STILL did not complain about getting roped into something else, just typed a quick note to his buddy and left with the chalk.

 

I walked over to get them, and the Big G had him playing a giant game of Hopscotch.

 

I love that he played this game without reservation, that he listens to the Big G respectfully even when he can't understand (because of her accent) quite what it is she's telling him.  

 

Sometimes  I wonder if I've got this parenting thing all wrong.  People say that they don't ask their older kids to watch their younger ones, because it's not THEIR job or responsiblity to raise their siblings, they should just be allowed to be a kid.   Guilt sets in because I ABSOLUTELY expect my boy to watch his sister.  He may or may not be paid for that.  At the same time, isn't that part of being a family? How do people teach their kids to be responsible if they never give them any responsibilities?    I freely acknowledge that spacing plays a big part in pulling this off... I listen to my friends groan about how their kids fight, and I think I spaced my kids juuuuust right.     

 

But watching him with the two girls last night, playing hopscotch when he'd rather be playing Call of Duty, holding his sister's hand as they walk around the corner, just because she's six and adores him, I just had to acknowledge that (setting aside all personal biases here) he is, in fact, the world's greatest teenage boy.

 

 

Mama Mii-a

So after the hideous realization that I am now the biggest girl in my office, I was all-in for the newest weight loss contest at work. sigh.

So in spite of the fact that my living room is still not re-arranged to my satisfaction, out came the Wii fit (Finally! I got it for mother's day). My Mii immediately blew up like the pillsbury dough-girl. I could handle that, but they made her shirt not fit so you see her belly. Now that's just rude.

Little O and I started going thru the games, and she looooves to wii-run. Wii-running is less strenuous than real running because you can just jiggle the remote to keep going when you're tired. If she wants ME to run with her, I pretty much just jiggle the remote. I'm working on it. She was thoroughly put out that I ski better than she does. My plan is to wii in the mornings after I make the Honey's lunch and send him off, before Little O gets up. ANY physical activity will be more than I have been doing! Wii Yoga here I come...