A Nap for Mama

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Today Jeff entrusted Jaden to me from 1:15 until 4:45 by myself at the pool so he could finally catch a mountain stage of the TdF.

By the time he came back down to relieve me, I was tired as can be. So I said I'm going over to this patch of grass to lay down. It was all of five feet away. I made it to there and saw the ocean glistening. I said no actually I'm going down to the sand. Ok, Jeff says.

I start walking towards the sand and pass an empty hammock.

Duh.

I will be right here in this hammock actually.

And guess what?

I fell right to sleep, swaying in the breeze at 5 p.m. Maui time.

Ah.

Here, in Maui? I do not know what insomnia means.

Three Strikes...

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...I'm out.

If I wasn't so afraid of flying, I'd probably hit the airport first thing tomorrow morning and retun to the safety of our little studio until Aug. 4th when we will have to vacate that little bubble of happiness.

The three strikes refers to the number of kid traumas I've gone through in less than 30 hours.

Strike #1: watch helplessly as Jaden slams his head into a waterslide and then disappears from view. (He was okay but rather hysterical, understandably, by the time I went down the stupid waterslide and swam to him and Jeff).

Strike #2: wake up at 2:30 a.m. to the sound of Jaden screaming at the top of his lungs because he fell out of the bed and whacked his head (again), neck, ear and shoulder on either the nightstand or Jeff's computer adaptor. I fell asleep thinking of those stupid British parents who went on vacation and left their kids unattended and then their daughter got kidnapped. So when I woke to Jaden's screams and didn't feel him in the bed, I was totally convinced someone was trying to kidnap him. Then I realized he was hurt on the floor and started frantically trying to find him and pick him up. Meanwhile, Jeff, the good parent, knew right away that he had fallen out of bed and not to move him in case he was seriously injured.

(He is not, but he has a good-sized contusion on his shoulder and sported a red, swollen ear for the majority of the day and complained of neck pain off and on. I had to give him Tylenol for pain in the middle of the night which I realized was necessary when he refused a bite of cookie as our meek attempt to cheer him up before we got him back to sleep).

Strike #3: I spend a perfectly enjoyable day with Jeff's cousins and end it with a fancy dinner out with all the kids. After Jeff's long -ass turn successfuly watching Jaden and Calvin while our incredibly slow server did who-knows-what for 1.5 hours (i.e. NOT bringing our dinners), I take over "watching" and let Jaden and Calvin sit alone near the table to watch the koi fish and then proceed to watch (in slow motion) Calvin roll right into the fucking pond. Instead of diving in, I screamed. Nice. Not. Very not helpful. Luckily his dad is very helpful and very fast and dove right in and got him out.

Calvin is 100 percent okay. He didn't even cry. I couldn't believe it. He just wanted to be held by his mommy and the restaurant staff brought towels for him and his daddy and then soon after that he said, "I want to go to bed."

[Why does the restaurant have towels right there anyway?!]

I will feel horrible guilt for the rest of my life and now have not one, but two, horrifying images to flash back endlessly in my brain. Jaden whacking the waterslide and Calvin tumbling into a koi pond.

Shoot me now, and don't tell me it was an accident and accidents happen because even Jeff told me on the walk back to the hotel that I did fuck up and I was irresponsible (not exact quotes but definitely the exact gist).

So nothing is going to make me feel better about this. I'm just a slow, senseless, retarded-no-reflexes idiot who should not be allowed to be a caregiver of anyone, anymore, ever.

Note to Self

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Never ever set an auto-responder on your main email address when you have been under severe stress, no sleep and your dear husband has been working 18-hour days for a week.

Especially when you have over 400+ emails in your in-box because you are so behind on your filing. (Yes I have filters, this is above & beyond).

FUDRUCKERS.

My deepest apologies to everyone and anyone getting my retarded auto response erroneously.

ARRGH.

The Real Goodbye

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Last night (since it's now technically Saturday), at about 6 p.m., Jaden and I said our real goodbye to the house.

I had to drop off the appliance manuals and bring in the garbage cans. It was very hard on Jaden. He was upset because he wanted to hang out with Ron and he realized the impact of moving. So he ran inside to his room and I heard the door slam shut.

I found him sobbing in his closet, where his dresser used to be. It was the only part of the room that offered a hiding place. I went in and he totally broke down. I held him tight.

After a bit, I asked him what he was going to miss the most from our house. He ran up to the wall and said, "Uncle Roger's tree."


And then I witnessed his beautiful little heart break into pieces.


I thought it might seem cruel to photograph him in such pain but in a way, it had its own beauty and I wanted to remember it forever for some reason. And in so doing, it struck me that our little digital camera might offer my son a different kind of way to say goodbye to his home. He loves to take pictures and it's a big treat when he asks and I say yes.

I offered it to him and he gobbled it up. He took photos of his room and the bathroom at every conceivable angle. Finally I had to nudge him to move down the hallway. He gave me back the camera, paused at the water heater and said through more tears, "I am hugging my whole house now."


And slowly but surely we made it to the front of the house. There we sat against the wall, holding on to each other and crying our eyes out. Only my maternal instincts kept me from totally breaking down -- I wanted to be strong for him. Then he asked me to take one last picture of us together in our house. So I did my best.

Last Post from Felix

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It is 11:06 p.m.

I am packing up my desk in my beautiful office.

My stomach is howling at me with acid tears.

After getting this room in shape for the open house, it was a dreamy place for me to spend time. I have no idea when, where or if I will ever have a space like this for myself again. Rosina Red Designs came to life in this room. I don't know where that little gig is headed but if it does go somewhere, this is where it all began.

How is it that I cursed this house for 2.5 years and I'm falling apart when it's time to go?

I am so detached from the reality of our situation that it's become almost frightening.

I walk around in a stupor and think, really? seriously? selling means we actually have to move?

Because it seems more like I wanted the monetary relief but none of the actual moving, say goodbye to your nice neighbor Ron, your little crape myrtle that actually survived a year under my thumb and lived to tell the tale with beautiful white blossoms, your bathroom that you re-did your way -- all of that is over? My $900 Container Store closet system? No more?

My Bosch washer and dryer? My LG french door fridge? Don't even go there. I have an intimate relationship with those items. I can't even stand it. This is not happening.

I have moved many, many times in my 36 years on this earth. I have never moved like this, with no clue where I'm going to end up. I try to convince myself this is a big adventure. But it's really not. It is a sad fact that I can't get where I want to be: living a little family life in a little family house with our annoying big dog.

I'll end this cryfest with two pictures of my Boozhee taken this week in his room. His beautiful blue, superfly room with the tree mural. I can see the pout emerging but maybe that's because I know him so well.


In any case, his face perfectly captures how I feel these days, even if he was only making it because I wanted to take his picture and he was in the middle of his rocket story.

It is 11:24 p.m.
Hey Felix: over and out.

Cue music....

Airline "Delays"

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The upcoming trip to Maui has got travel on my mind. I am hanging around Budget Travel and there's always lots of interesting things there to read.

This caught my eye this morning and steamed me up!

"A check of two dozen flights from June airline schedules found that "block times" --the time airlines allot in their schedules for the trip -- are about 10% higher than they were in June 1997....Many delays are now simply being incorporated into schedules, at high cost to consumers and airlines. Congestion at airports and in the sky have forced airlines to pad their schedules more than ever so flights have a better chance of arriving "on-time," which the Department of Transportation defines as within 15 minutes of the airline's scheduled arrival time. Flights now arrive technically "on-time," but with 30 minutes or more of delay written into the flight plan." (reported originally here by the WSJ).

Well gosh now! Who makes these decisions and how do they sleep at night? I just think this is wrong and I know stuff like this happens all the time around me. It makes me feel angry. Here I spend all day teaching my son to be a good person and have his words mean something and there someone, unaccountable, pads flight times to land "on time"! It's totally meaningless! GRR!

I mean there is obviously some larger problems here, if congestion has gotten so bad that it comes to this. Then how is that issue to be resolved? I don't know. It's like vehicle traffic I guess. Sure, point A to point B is only 10 miles, but at 5 p.m. it will take you 1.5 hours to travel that far. So you have to factor that in when you say you can meet someone for dinner. I guess that's what the airlines are doing?

Geez now I am thinking about Silicon Valley traffic, workaholics and world overpopulation and NOT Maui sunsets and relaxation. The world is too much with us!

An Orange Tease

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After so generously receiving a 17" Powerbook last week, I promptly set about finding a lovely bag to carry it around in. Immediately I rejected in full any standard-issue black nylon laptop bag. I started googling "cute stylish laptop bags" and found multiple blogs about just such a topic. Obviously I am not the only girl out there who expects style from her electronic goods.

Quickly I fell in love with a bag but it's price ($169) made me go hmmm; even though I didn't have to pay anything for the computer, so I am willing to spend more than I normally would on such an item. I lolli-gagged around for the past few days and today at SonyStyle store accidentally found the in-love bag in the wrong size -- but still I got to check out and touch it (it's wool so I was worried). It's so darn cool!

I come home and call the company to ask customer service about the wool getting wet during winter (my other worry) -- nope, not a problem, they Scotchguard it.

But there's another problem.

There are no more.



Ever.



I believe the exact words were "we did a short season on this one."

Here is the bag that will never be for me.



Hello Crushed.
Crushed oranges to be specific.

Heaven on Earth

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Tonight I met Jamie at Santana Row to go to a card store (Jax) that could special order envelopes in the size we need for her reception invites. Luckily for me, she was running late and I remembered that a new paper store had opened up recently so now I finally had time and space to check it out.

Well pardon me for having a heart attack but I finally found it: Heaven on Earth.

Oh my gosh I mean I have needed a reliable source for stock papers and envelopes for years, but this store goes way beyond my expectations. First of all their card stock is dreamy, hello scalloped edges and rickrack borders in multiple sizes, but rounds! Oh the rounds. They even have BLANK ROUND STICKERS!

No one else but a fellow paper freak can probably understand why 1:47 after the store closed tonight, my pulse is still racing.


I will fall asleep tonight dreaming about paper flowers.

And I will fall asleep happy.

Rad Rocket

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There are truly few words that can express how amazing I find the progression of Jaden's art. It seriously blows my mind. I am so grateful for Jeff because he is equally blown away so I have someone who knows exactly how I feel about this stuff.

It's just too rad to have your kid sit down and nonchalantly whip out a rocket ship for the first time and hand it to you like no big deal, I do this all the time and you're saying wow cool but inside screaming holy cannoli those scribbles do turn into recognizable shapes and writing after all!



by Jaden, June 26, 2007


Favorite Spot in the House

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Jaden's bed is the only furniture Jackson is allowed on, but it's also the only place he ever wants to go on.


December 2006



Two days ago


It always amazes me how dogs can get this look on their face, like they are pure royalty and deserve oh-so-much more than they are currently getting. Jackson looks like, "What Mom? This is my rightful place so stop taking photos and get on with the service."

On a separate note, his growth has slowed way down.

THANK GOODNESS!

The Dentist

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I am off to the dentist.

OMG.

It's been awhile. I had a checkup before I got Bexxar and had a couple of small cavities. But he wanted to wait until my white counts stabilized before doing the work. They only stabilized in January and I waited until now to go in.

I am one of those that hates the dentist. Unlike Jaden, who literally danced with glee the day I told him he had a dental appointment.

Kids! And their darned enthusiasm for life!