Movie Night

The kiddo and I are prepping for movie night--which, when you're 5 years old and it's a school night, is more like movie late-afternoon. Popcorn is popped, Pocahontas is on Netflix (NOT MY CHOICE), and we are all teams go. The dogs are intermittently begging for popcorn and helping clean up the popcorn that the kiddo is dropping--we are a symbiotic picture of a happy family--minus Max, who's (cue eye-rolling) exercising. HIS LOSS.

Samson: Mommy, how does electricity even go through wires?

Mommy: Very carefully.

With a cherry on top

This had to be among the longest, most frustrating Mondays in existence. Please don't make me recap any of the painful details--just cover yourself int he pillowy softness of these pictures from our trip to San Diego last weekend.

The Leatherneck Aviation Museum. Ammunition!

La Jolla Cove. Beach Glass!

The San Diego Fire Engine Museum. Olde Timey!

The USS Midway. US Ronald Reagan's cousin. 

Flying with Satan's Chief Negotiator

To the passengers of today's 3 pm flight from San Diego: yes, our five year old can be a total asshat. The whining, the bickering, the blaming, the loud and demanding voice, the threats, the disproportionate claims of wrongs perpetrated against him--all of it must be expressed, discussed, debated and reexamined at a volume high enough for eeeeeeeeeeeeveryone on the airplane to hear him, and to hear his plea for gummy snacks, AKA his rightful possession, and obviously part of his mother's plot to rid his life of joy.

Please understand that during the 30 minute battle, we tried to negotiate a peace treaty, a simple and gentle exchange of verbal claims of good will. This, too, was met with a loud and high-pitched protest against the degrading implication that any of his claims were less than god's honest truth and the only suitable way to handle this injustice would be for him to GET MORE GUMMY SNACKS.

In the end, the delegates from The Grown-Ups met with the delegates from That Asshat Kid, and a mutual push toward happiness for all was established. Currently, both parties are enjoying the last 20 minutes of the flight back to San Francisco, with the promise of a great era of peace and prosperity on the horizon.

La Jolla Cove

We really had a splendid day tooling around La Jolla with our peeps. There was some rain, some drizzle, some sun, and lots of humongous seals and sea lions. And all of that was after the Leatherheads aviation museum. Jam packed day, overflowing with good friends, good kids, good sites and great food. Behold: the splendor!

blog #800

8 o'clock this morning: So I'm sitting on the airplane with max & Sam on our way to San Diego. Sam is a joy to fly with these days--I make sure to pack lots of snacks, crayons & paper, books and some hot wheels. Not that any of that matters because his chrome tablet is all he really needs. Games, cartoons, music and Buzz Lightyear headphones and we are GOOD TO GO.

Now, AKA a million, bazillion hours later: Here in San Diego, it never stops raining. Kids stay up 2 hours past their bedtime to eat significant amounts of sugary sweets. Finally, we go to sleep--and we do it all again in the morning.

Visiting the Hevre

We're off to San Diego to visit a sweet new baby. If she's anything like the other sweet new babies I've met lately, she will not like me, not one bit. Which suits me fine; I've got Samson and four furry friends, who needs another squishy, pink, sweet smelling bundle of poop? No me, that's who.

If I don't blog for a few days, its probably because  my hands are busy trying to win the affection of a 4 month old.

Less awesome than expected

So. I turned 37 yesterday, and I'm bummed to say that it was not awesome. Getting older is a double-edged sword for sure. It goes like this:

Cons:

Wrinkles

New music is crappy

Teenagers are far more annoying than they were the last time I checked

Gravity

Pros:

I'm still alive

And then there's the part where you realize that most of your very good friends live in other states or countries or are very jet-lagged or have infants to care for or are sleeping off some jetlag and there's no one around that you can really celebrate with. If you wanted to celebrate. Which you don't.

Sigh.

So I think 38 will either be completely ignored in order to avoid the inevitable let-down, or celebrated jubilantly with excessive pre-birthday planning.

Big thanks to the Sharks for scoring those 6 goals in the first period ALL FOR ME!

Happy birthday to me!

Yep, it's that time of the year again. One more year of experience, opportunity, and questionable decisions. Here's to 365 more days wanting to do the right thing, and sometimes doing the wrong thing instead. Here's to me!

Cocky

All it takes is one little brag, and I loose my consecutive daily blog post streak. Figures.

Besides, it's hard to blog when you're surrounded by CUTE. And laundry.

In other news, I just posted my 800th blog post. I think it was the one from Friday that didn't post until Saturday. Amazing! What on earth could I possibly have blogged about for almost 9 years? I'm going to have to go through the archives tonight. You can bet your bum that there will be some golden oldies up here in the next few days...

CORRECTION:  this is published post #796. Expect fanfare and jubilation in four more posts.

Oh, Android

For the record--that last post was created and seemingly posted last night, but awesome new Nexus 7 is saddled with faulty Android apps like Blogger, AKA completely useless.

So happy birthday to my brother YESTERDAY, and that post totally counts for Friday. Consecutive daily post #13, booyashaka!

Early birthday gift

My new nexus 7! And a lovely pale blue case/stand/cover thingie. I love it and I'm so ready to name it and start referring to it in 3rd person.  Off to search for more apps.

Also happy birthday this guy, my bro!

Keepin' it real

Kiddo's in the bath, Max is at a work dinner and I'm struggling to keep my eyes open for another hour. Put Samson to bed, clean kitchen, fold laundry and...zzzz. In reality, it will be something more like fall asleep while I'm reading his bedtime story.

I'm a turkey for your love

Max just laid on the floor to cuddle with Turkey Sandwich, who was not interested. Says Max "Hooker, please!"

I love my family.

This is the Turk at the beach one year ago, almost to the date.

And this is last Sunday. 

Poplar Beach in Half Moon Bay. Quite different without the fog. 

On the dock of the bay

Beautiful shorebirds outside my office this morning. Pretty picture for me, goose poop buffet for Fizzy.

Max and Elvis the Girl

It's been great fun having the kittens join us. We adopted Elvis the Girl and US Ronald Reagan from 9 Lives Foundation during their July 4th BOGO sale last year. They are sisters, and they are fucking adorable. I love, love love them, and they have made my life better in so many ways. So many things, in fact, that I believe I will make a list.

Pros:

super soft

purring

waking up in the middle of the night to find a car sitting next to my head

being head-butted

so very pretty

Cons:

LITTER BOXES

I...am...speed...

Kiddo and I took the dogs to the beach this morning. So in case you were in the Half Moon Bay area and heard the sound of pure, unadulterated joy--that was Turkey Sandwich and the Fizz.

Root, root, root for the home team

I'm watching the 49er's game. It's actually pretty fun. I mean, it's always fun when the local team is winning. I started watching it with Samson, and now it's hour after he went to bed and I'm still watching.

While I was typing that last sentence, a very awake voice from downstairs asked me who was winning. HMMMMMM.

The kid and I had a great time tonight. We spent the evening enjoying Shabbat dinner with friends, two of whom are under four months old. It was a nice night out and a good way to start our weekend without Max. My lovely husband is spending the weekend in Las Vegas with a couple of countrymen, so kiddo and I are on our own for the next couple of days. We have some fun stuff planned--basketball game, airplane museum, taking the dogs to the beach. Good times!

Little Dog

Meet Fizzy Bubbeleh, the newest member of our family. She's a Schipperke/Miniature Poodle cross and she just turned one. We adopted her in September, and she and Turkey Sandwich immediately became best friends. They are the well matched in everything except size--she fits right in to our crew.

Pros: 

great to have at the office

doesn't eat much

companionship for Turkey Sandwich

portable

does tricks

Cons:

excessive licking

chases cats

not quite entirely house-trained exactly

toy thief

I must say, I'm glad she's here. She's definitely the last pet we'll be getting for long, long time. We're back up to full capacity with Turkey Sandwich, Elvis the Girl, US Ronald Reagan and now Fizzy. We are just the right size. 

Hitting the Cerebral Gym

I learned from one of my therapists this evening that the fuzzy, muddy feeling in my memory is fixable. He said that if I exercise my brain regularly, it will reconnect the parts that were goofed up--either as a result of the tumor, during surgery, or from treatment--and eventually, I'll be able to remember the parts of things about which I feel forgetful. It should also help with my word-finding and recall, which would make me feel much more confident at work.

One more thing about brain cancer: Liz is awesome.