Yep, I Married A Real Man

I know this because, when told by our dryer repair man (who had been over three times in three weeks) that we needed to call a chimney sweep to clear out our filthy vent, Jay did no such thing. Instead, he went into the garage, found a big tank of compressed CO2 and let 'er rip into the vent.

I wish I had been standing outside to witness the quick exit of packed lint, as the resulting scene outside reminded me of a winter wonderland. Except it was made of gray lint instead of snow. I could have created yarn and knitted a mountain of blankets from the "wool". (Good thing I don't have that kind of time on my hands.)

I also wish I knew if our brand new neighbors happened to see this gigantic belch of filth emanating from the Di Silvestri house. Because it just might have served as an ominous warning of what life might be like living next door to us.

More Fun With Fish

I got the fish, the tank, the aquatic plant and the rocks. But I forgot the food.

So, back I went to Petco the next day with Isabella and Natalie to buy fish food. Should be simple enough, right?

When we got to the store, Isabella did not want to ride in the cart because she remembered that she could see the fish better while smearing her greasy little nose directly on the glass. So, I put Natalie in the cart and I let Bella run ahead a little, thinking that there was no harm done by a little toddler aquarium gazing.

Silly me.

I forgot the Betta fish were on display in little tupperware-like containers, stacked in a pyramid on a table. I forgot that Isabella has a razor-sharp memory and likes to repeat things we have previously done. I forgot that she watched Julia select a fish from this stack the day before.

Before I could stop her, she grabbed for a fish at the bottom of the pyramid to helpfully place in our cart. Down went a number of the fish, thudding hideously in a staccato pattern on the concrete floor. One (and thankfully only one) of the containers split and flooded the area, leaving its inhabitant flopping desperately in the broken container. There were no employees in sight.

Panicked, I grabbed the fish and began to place it in the container with another fish who had survived the fall. But then I remembered that these were all male Bettas and that this would NOT be a good plan. So, I did the next best thing. I started hollering, "Help!" in the middle of Petco. No one came.

Plan B was to stupidly dash around the store looking for an employee, shouting something nonsensical, like, "This fish is going to die! Help!" Finally, alarmed by my apparent instability, the checker left the checkstand mid-transaction to save the poor fish by getting a new container and filling it with water in the nick of time.

I quickly paid for the food and left.

(The next time I need something I am going to PetSmart down the street.)

Fun with Fish

Julia's Kindergarten is making a town. Each child is bringing in one building, and Julia chose "aquarium". Anyone who knows me knows I am not crafty at all, so I generally dread these projects. But this one sounded easy, since I had permission from her teacher to use a real mini aquarium.

Off we went to Petco and came home with a Betta fish and a tiny tank (apparently, Bettas prefer small stagnant spaces, so that's why I chose that kind of fish). Julia was delighted with her beautiful fish and sure she would have the best building in town.

Joey came home from school, took one look at Julia's fish and said, "Cool! That's a Siamese Fighting Fish! What's his name?"

Julia, in her sweet six-year old sing-song voice declared, "Rainbow."

Joey, who misheard, shouted excitedly, "Rambo?! That's the PERFECT name for this kind of fish!"

An excellent example of the difference between girls and boys, now, isn't it?

Technological Glitch Makes for Poor Posting

I have so much to post about. May has been an incredibly busy month.

Sam celebrated his First Holy Communion. Julia turned 6. Joey turned 11. Jay made his annual Mother's Day brunch. Joey made student of the month for the second time in three months.

Baseball continues. Four kids, five different teams (Joey plays on two) means 9 regular practices and 4-7 games per week. And that doesn't even count extra batting practice! Throw in choir (mine and Lindsey's), dental, medical and orthodontic appointments, and I am going through a tank of gas every three or four days. Thank goodness it isn't $4.50 a gallon anymore!

Joey and Lindsey both have major projects due this month. Lindsey's, on Harriet Tubman, required a costume rental and extensive poster board preparation. Joey's is a science fair entry and has Jay welding a catapult (yes, you read that correctly, a catapult) in the garage during every waking moment while I frantically assist with the presentation board. When did it become so that a child's project is a parent's nightmare? But if we don't help when the other parents do, doesn't that put a child at a disadvantage? A vicious cycle to be sure.

Why then, with so much to talk about, haven't I posted anything? Simply because my camera is broken. It is usually photos of these events that get me motivated to post about them, and no images means no motivation. How slippery is the slope of modern technology! What a crutch is has become to self-expression for me!

At any rate, if I ever pull myself out of the fog that has become my life, I will fix the camera and get back on track. In the meantime, bear with this busy mom. I am simply too busy living my life right now to write about it.

No one, and I mean NO ONE, is looking forward to summer more than I am. Fourteen more days of school. But who's counting?

From Someone Who Has Been Around The Block A Few Times

I have had a bad few weeks, calendar-wise.

Generally, I keep a fairly good calendar. Given how much is on it, I do a pretty good job of getting people where they need to be with the proper items. However, these past few weeks I have been dropping the ball. Kids have missed entire games, I nearly blew a team snack and I have shown up at the wrong time for things that were correctly written on my calendar. What gives?

I was mulling this mystery over out loud while driving the kids to school, when Lindsey said with all the wisdom of someone who has been through this quite a few times, "Mom, are you pregnant?"

I cracked up (and only, mind you, because I am NOT!). Apparently, my nine-year old knows that, in my case, the most obviously explanation for any period of total brain fade is due to pregnancy hormones.

I am guessing that most kids her age would not have gone there first, but I am so amused that she did.

When I assured her I was not expecting, Joey jumped in with, "Well, I guess you're just finally really losing it then."

Thanks, bud.

It Was Inevitable

Someone was going to need stitches, sooner or later.

Joey's teacher called yesterday morning and told me to come fetch him right away, as he was going to be needing some medical attention. Joey's description of the incident: "I was trying to cut the grip off the pencil--which I now know was a really bad idea--and the scissors slipped."

I will spare you the gory photo I took in the urgent care, but the kids are really enjoying grossing themselves out over it.

Two hours and four stitches later, he is on the road to recovery and is quite the celebrity at school this week. Happily, he missed the tendon and should have no lasting effect beyond a "really cool" scar on the index finger. Lucky boy.

Is this a blog or a medical reporting medium? Lately, it is getting hard to tell the difference.