kyburg: (angry)
Now, they want to do something over the holidays. And I'm the bad guy.

Riiiight.

This is me, shutting up now.
kyburg: (angry)
Now, they want to do something over the holidays. And I'm the bad guy.

Riiiight.

This is me, shutting up now.
kyburg: (Default)
Thanks for putting up with the Twitter consolidations - right now, that is where I am most prolific, largely because it's a real 'hit and done' environment. Now, to collect those for later perusal?

This is still the best place for that. August 29th was the last time I actually wrote a post here, huh? Okay.

Sis's divorce isn't final, but the house has been sold and the family split into two rental properties - only one of which I have contact information for. (Guess.) I still listen to crazy on a regular basis. But after throwing up my hands and giving in to simply being sad for a period of weeks (and if depression showed up to keep it company, well it did), I no longer want to end the world in fire (okay, just my sister) every time the subject comes up.

The sad arrived after I found out what the holidays were going to look like this year.

Nobody is coming. Nobody is going. There will be nothing. Even when Dad died, there was Christmas. Even when the house burned down. Went to Switzerland. Cliff almost died. Always.

Nope. Not coming to your house. (Even though I'm still opening the house on Christmas Eve. Bite me, you're not taking that from me.) Too far, too much work, lalala. Not for Thanksgiving (though that's not a real shock, neither lil' bro or Mom eats as a social occasion anymore, the diets they're on don't allow for much of it), but not for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Years - nope. Not worth the work.

I was willing to put them up, entertain, do whatever was necessary - nope.

That smarts. And yes, I got very sad. I got better, but I had to stay there and really grok it for a while.

But that's it.

Family and I are getting on a train and going north for Thanksgiving. Christmas Eve is at my house, and if Christmas Day is spent at Disneyland? I can think of worse. Letting the simple indifference ruin me more is wrong. Nobody is trying to do me harm, they just don't care. (Didn't they say neglect was worse than abuse?)

Sis started sending text messages over the weekend - called me at work (I pushed it to VM) Friday - being chatty and buddy-buddy and I am *totally* creeped out. Well then - now that you've made sure nobody can hold you accountable in person (ex-BIL needs to notify her in writing before he even picks up kid, shared custody agreement notwithstanding, I said the crazy continues), I guess it's time to see if I'm going to accept the DNA card for more charges on account.

Nope. That account is overlimit, overdrawn and closed. Done. At some point, she is going to get her opportunity to tell me - perhaps - what the fuck she thought this was all about, but I have a heavy list of my own to levy as well. I seriously doubt the little tatters that are left will survive contact with it.

I'll do what I can for Mom, as I am able. The brothers - can find their own way, do not care anymore. When Mom is gone, so I am. So very done. Do I think any of them will notice? If they do, it'll smart a little - about as much as if I had actually died, perhaps. (Suicidal ideation happens around here when trying to find a way to pay bills. For attention? You're kidding, right?) Mom plaints about 'what happened?' and none of us will say - nobody wants her to know the work she did with Sis in high school didn't take.

My mother married twice; my mother was bankrupted by each of those men and has filed for protection twice. In spite of that, she raised four kids by herself, and between the four of us there are three bachelor degrees, two masters and a doctorate. And all of us work. (Except for Sis, at this point she claims to be self-employed except she doesn't work 15 hours a week, the documentation is there as part of court process.) All of us raised children, with various levels of success depending on the kid. Only one of us ended up in jail, and that was once and done and lil' bro has been in recovery ever since. When you remove the antagonist, we're resilient folks.

But second-best is out of here, guys. I'm not waiting anymore.

There are a couple of other places you can find me - tumblr has me in its passive-agressive paws, same name as here. You can also find me at turntable.fm in the I <3 70's room (last place I expected to land) during daylight hours. Facebook, tumblr with the ability to talk back to your insulter - the modern version of the slambook, pretty pictures and all. Ironically, Tumblr may have kicked me in the head hard enough to go back to writing anything - I'm seriously considering NanoWriMo this year (hell, there's no reason - NOTHING going on).

So, we'll see.

So. How about those Avengers?
kyburg: (Default)
Thanks for putting up with the Twitter consolidations - right now, that is where I am most prolific, largely because it's a real 'hit and done' environment. Now, to collect those for later perusal?

This is still the best place for that. August 29th was the last time I actually wrote a post here, huh? Okay.

Sis's divorce isn't final, but the house has been sold and the family split into two rental properties - only one of which I have contact information for. (Guess.) I still listen to crazy on a regular basis. But after throwing up my hands and giving in to simply being sad for a period of weeks (and if depression showed up to keep it company, well it did), I no longer want to end the world in fire (okay, just my sister) every time the subject comes up.

The sad arrived after I found out what the holidays were going to look like this year.

Nobody is coming. Nobody is going. There will be nothing. Even when Dad died, there was Christmas. Even when the house burned down. Went to Switzerland. Cliff almost died. Always.

Nope. Not coming to your house. (Even though I'm still opening the house on Christmas Eve. Bite me, you're not taking that from me.) Too far, too much work, lalala. Not for Thanksgiving (though that's not a real shock, neither lil' bro or Mom eats as a social occasion anymore, the diets they're on don't allow for much of it), but not for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Years - nope. Not worth the work.

I was willing to put them up, entertain, do whatever was necessary - nope.

That smarts. And yes, I got very sad. I got better, but I had to stay there and really grok it for a while.

But that's it.

Family and I are getting on a train and going north for Thanksgiving. Christmas Eve is at my house, and if Christmas Day is spent at Disneyland? I can think of worse. Letting the simple indifference ruin me more is wrong. Nobody is trying to do me harm, they just don't care. (Didn't they say neglect was worse than abuse?)

Sis started sending text messages over the weekend - called me at work (I pushed it to VM) Friday - being chatty and buddy-buddy and I am *totally* creeped out. Well then - now that you've made sure nobody can hold you accountable in person (ex-BIL needs to notify her in writing before he even picks up kid, shared custody agreement notwithstanding, I said the crazy continues), I guess it's time to see if I'm going to accept the DNA card for more charges on account.

Nope. That account is overlimit, overdrawn and closed. Done. At some point, she is going to get her opportunity to tell me - perhaps - what the fuck she thought this was all about, but I have a heavy list of my own to levy as well. I seriously doubt the little tatters that are left will survive contact with it.

I'll do what I can for Mom, as I am able. The brothers - can find their own way, do not care anymore. When Mom is gone, so I am. So very done. Do I think any of them will notice? If they do, it'll smart a little - about as much as if I had actually died, perhaps. (Suicidal ideation happens around here when trying to find a way to pay bills. For attention? You're kidding, right?) Mom plaints about 'what happened?' and none of us will say - nobody wants her to know the work she did with Sis in high school didn't take.

My mother married twice; my mother was bankrupted by each of those men and has filed for protection twice. In spite of that, she raised four kids by herself, and between the four of us there are three bachelor degrees, two masters and a doctorate. And all of us work. (Except for Sis, at this point she claims to be self-employed except she doesn't work 15 hours a week, the documentation is there as part of court process.) All of us raised children, with various levels of success depending on the kid. Only one of us ended up in jail, and that was once and done and lil' bro has been in recovery ever since. When you remove the antagonist, we're resilient folks.

But second-best is out of here, guys. I'm not waiting anymore.

There are a couple of other places you can find me - tumblr has me in its passive-agressive paws, same name as here. You can also find me at turntable.fm in the I <3 70's room (last place I expected to land) during daylight hours. Facebook, tumblr with the ability to talk back to your insulter - the modern version of the slambook, pretty pictures and all. Ironically, Tumblr may have kicked me in the head hard enough to go back to writing anything - I'm seriously considering NanoWriMo this year (hell, there's no reason - NOTHING going on).

So, we'll see.

So. How about those Avengers?
kyburg: (angry)
From the first post of this journal:

"No posting about anything that party of the first part will not know about party of the second part. And so on and so forth."

In whole, NO SECRETS. Nothing that anyone walking across my path would not already know - no secret tryst, trusts or scheming.

And this has been where I can talk freely about what bugs me. You didn't know, you weren't paying attention. Or - you told me to shut up, I didn't know what I was talking about, my opinion wasn't valued...the list can grow, at this point it matters very little.

This is my space. It has been for ten years. I've done good things with it - indifferent and truly SILLY things with it - but I can go back and look at this thing and see where life events have taken me, written before the ways came and took us where they did.

And...all things willing, will continue to do so.

So. Let me, for the record, collect posts on a specific subject. Heck, take the first year.

Let me introduce you to my family, and in particular...my older sister.

Who we are, and what I thought of us.

If there was a seminal event to lead to where Sis is today, here it is. Damn. Follow on....and some more....Sis, you were a lucky girl.

Secrets. And how they grew.

Don't try to fool Mom.

When Sis lost the sight in one eye.

Sharing is caring...unless you're my sister and then it's wrong.

This one is locked...for good reason.

They still have the cat and the fact this was all happening when the kids were this small? Sad makings.

Velvet paws that hide the sharpened claws....

Beware bringing me your drama.

I'm a good sister, really I am.

People reconcile. My tale of the most unlikely I've ever known.

Another locked one, but noted. BIL starts commuting to work in STL from LAX.

No Mom, I didn't know.

The 80's. It's worth noting in passing.

Sis...and the holidays. They never did mix well, did they. This part is unlocked.

Stuff that worked with me, foundered with my sister.

Getting ready to move to Torrance from Ontario, I clean my garage.

We find our current home, our little house of dreams.

Easter at Sis' house always was a risk.

A Mother's Day.

Twenty-somethings may rule popular culture and fashion, but seventy-somethings rule the world -

There were times...sadly, few of them.

This was more typical.

Don't get used to it.

A man of infinite jest - I worked with Bob Hope once.

Hidden treasures.

Talk to me. I talk back. Simple.

In the pool with you!

Your schedule. Not ours.

Used as a scratching post.

Therapy for depression.

Something typical, but updates on Sis.

Jim's parents divorced...

*SIGH* This is 2003. My Sis' kids adore Jim; they tolerate me. Follow on...oh shit, she was 15 too. What IS it about that age in girls?

I tend to give 'difficult' people room for medical causes...here's why.

Doing the dance of deception....

First Thanksgiving at my house.

BIL's second youngest brother passes.

And I have to tell the Master's in Social Work this?!

And that was essentially the first year of journalling here. There's nine more to go.

No, I was not always fair or kind - not even accurate, if I go back and recheck the facts but that was what I knew at the time I put it down.

If you keep going, you read more and time passes - that's what reading back over journal entries is all about.

Today, I don't get that many words down on a daily basis - I'm faster on Twitter and Facebook and more prolific there. I've started a Tumblr, but it really just reposts things from other Tumblrs...without commenting on them. Passive aggressive internets for the win. 9_9

It might do me more good to write more, methinks. It was also interesting to note the issues with old gig went further back than the summer of 2008 - *shakes head.* I so didn't want to leave that one - I really did stick out as long as I could, didn't I?

And the beat goes on.
kyburg: (angry)
25 years ago, it was a dirt lot without even a road leading to it.

Today, it's fast cash. Yup. That's Sis' house - on the market, priced for a fast sale.

I'm out of things to say anymore.

And no...not a word from her. Rude text messages, avoidance (she's even unfriended me on Facebook) and absolute granola-grade flaking out.

When I'm not livid, I'm terrified.
kyburg: (angry)
25 years ago, it was a dirt lot without even a road leading to it.

Today, it's fast cash. Yup. That's Sis' house - on the market, priced for a fast sale.

I'm out of things to say anymore.

And no...not a word from her. Rude text messages, avoidance (she's even unfriended me on Facebook) and absolute granola-grade flaking out.

When I'm not livid, I'm terrified.
kyburg: (angry)
25 years ago, it was a dirt lot without even a road leading to it.

Today, it's fast cash. Yup. That's Sis' house - on the market, priced for a fast sale.

I'm out of things to say anymore.

And no...not a word from her. Rude text messages, avoidance (she's even unfriended me on Facebook) and absolute granola-grade flaking out.

When I'm not livid, I'm terrified.
kyburg: (Default)
Well, at least the tweets appear to be showing up - but there hasn't even been much of them lately either, has there?

I need time to be concise, I also need time to actually type. I can go 90wpm, but I actually have to get some of those minutes, right?

I'm going to be going through the last ten years of this thing. I considered going back and retro-actively tagging the posts relating to my sister, but thought better of it.

They stay as they were made, not changing a thing. If I hand this over to a legal widget or her family, there will be no record of me going back and touching them in any way. That's meet, sez I.

I have hopes. I make plans. I go back and try again with better information.

Religious social club is going better, after stomping my little feet and making loud noises.

Work is keeping me very busy and on my toes and that's a good thing. Old gig may - or may not - or probably - who knows - come to an end soon.

And summer is arriving, and there is a week in August that needs filling. I'm thinking Miranda.

So many secrets. Keeping as few as I can.

FWIW

Apr. 26th, 2012 09:17 pm
kyburg: (crazy)
I asked someone to do a tarot reading for me. Basically said 'give me the next year' - results?

Well. See for yourself:

A 10 card spread, coming up


1) Present: Knight of Wands
Confidence and passion, a bold venture to undertake, but be wary you are not just cocky and foolhardy.

2) Immediate challenge: 2 of Wands
Use the power of your daring and inventiveness wisely.

3) Distant Past: Temperance

Balance, healing, harmony. These are things thata re fond memories now.

4) Recent Past: 6 of Swords

Journey, rite of passage, depression, barely staying above water, dealing with the effects of trauma. These things too are past, but they are more recent and may still be affecting the situation.

5) Best outcome: 5 of Cups

Partial loss, regrets, setbacks. But there is still some home, as only some of the cups are spilled. The rest still hold liquid.

6) Immediate Future: Queen of pentacles

Nuturing, practical, resopurceful. Your boldness will pay off, allowing you access to resources and the ability to be generous.

7) Factors in the situation: 9 of Swords

Nightmares. Doubt, guilt, all the stuff that keeps you awake at night

8) External influences: 3 of Swords

Heartbreak, abandonment, sorrow

9) Hopes and Fears: Death

Change, radical, change that marks your life and scars your mind. This does not mean someone will die, but everything around you will change.

10) Final Outcome: King of Pentacles.
Successful business, Support, adeptness, reliability.

Right now, you have the opportuinity to step forth boldly. But temper it with wisdom. No matter what you do, you're going to lose something. Hold on to the remembered balance, avoid the old depression. Let go of the doubt and guilt. The heartbreak comes from outside, but you can let go of the internal stuff. This is all going to be a complete change, and that is scary as all get out. Step out boldly and reap the rewards of the King of Pentacles.

---

*ahem* Well, then.

Oh boy.

Apr. 9th, 2012 04:50 pm
kyburg: (grief)
One of the things I love about some people (and I'm being facetious) is how they work like mad to Not Do THAT During The Holidays (IE, Christmas) but have no trouble letting fly at Easter.

No, really. I've got at least two stories of kids coming out to their parents and being tossed out of the house at Easter to show for that.

Looks like I'm going to have to add one more to the list - it looks like my nephew outed his mother.

She's 'pulled the trigger' for a divorce, according to BIL. Nephew posted it on FB after Sis had taken the daughter with her on a 'camping trip in the mountains' - across state lines, if I read it right. Best case, she's going to have a Come-to-Jesus with all of us at some point - worst, it's Spring Break, that's a week to move her and daughter permanently to Arizona. You think I'm joking.

Me? I'm talking with lil' bro as much as I can to try to protect my mother. She adores that BIL my Sis wants to kick to the curb (and it makes no sense, he's as kickworthy as a basket of newborn puppies) - lil' bro is worried. "She won't sleep." he said. Me? Dead. Like in the ER, dead. Just give her a good shove, that's all it would take. This qualifies.

Me? Working like hell to not make it worse on my watch. Checking the angles, verifying my work - how do I put this in a place that makes sense? I need to stop being so angry I can't think.

Because I'm going to need my A game, and right away. Can't fly off the handle, can't quit or hide - but I've been lied to, and all of the 'don't look here' distractions weren't my imagination - the bullshit detector still works.

I knew something Big was up, but I didn't know it was Big and Stupid.

We're talking about a 30 year marriage where whatever Sis wanted, she got. Her husband had to travel and make sacrifices with family time to pay for it all - but she got the education she needed, she didn't have to work full-time when the kids were small and the house is so big she needs weekly help to keep it clean (and she gets it, no questions asked). It's an absolute showplace - just the pictures on the walls are multiple thousands over the years of photography to produce them. The yards look like they belong to a resort hotel, pool and all.

She wanted to stop working and go into private practice. Not long ago, she moved the offices to cheaper digs and that was the last I heard. What are the odds. Bet that business has failed and BIL isn't willing to put any more money into it. I am certain Sis would angrily correct me on getting everything she wanted - nobody gets that, and that's likely more true but - honestly, she's been denied very little.

The worst part is she was claiming the daughter was ill. And yes, if my parents were getting divorced, I might be prepared to threaten suicide - wouldn't you, if it would buy some time?

Lucy has some explaining to do. Perhaps.

Just once. I'd like to be wrong about just how selfish and egocentric...to the point of sociopathology...my sister is.

So. Fired. That goes without saying, right?
kyburg: (bad mommy)
It'll be three years ago the 19th that we arrived at LAX with Xander, and the only family we allowed to meet us at the airport was Sis - with a SpongeBob stuffie.

I can still see her face the moment she saw him for the first time.

She was wonderful. Absolutely everything I wanted for my son in a dear, devoted auntie.

And now he asks why we haven't been over to play at her house and when we're going to go next.

There are no answers. Well, nothing age-appropriate anyway.
kyburg: (Hurt)
Some tweets I did yesterday....

In other news, Sis just called me and told me she's quit. First time I've heard from her since Christmas and it's to tell me she's done.

I wish I could make this shit up. She doesn't want any more phone calls. And definitely nothing about Mom. For six months. Ooookay.

(She hasn't returned a phone call in over four months, mind.) Okay. Good thing I'm going out to Mom's house this weekend, neh?

And like, I was already doing it, okay? She might have known if she - idk - RETURNED PHONE CALLS. #notbitter

*blows air* My idea of being busy - and the rest of the world's? Totally different thing entirely. #addsaplatetotheonesalreadyspinning

The fun part is one brother isn't used to calling me, and the other one hasn't spoken to me in nearly ten years. #fun


You know, it's bad enough to have toxic parents (the one I had, at least did me the favor of dying instead of living as a violent drug addict during ALL of my childhood instead of just the early years before age 7), but I had to end up with a sister who must be the center of attention, must direct traffic to her liking, must control the dialogs...until she's simply fed up with people in general and won't even return phone calls. On things she wanted from you. Insisted on. I'd be gobsmacked except she's done this all our lives. It's just bend over, here it comes again -

Except now, it's over Mom - and her care, which she has been very clear is Not To Be Fucked With. Except it's okay if she does it.

I...really haven't been kept in the loop on what's going on, day to day out there - between lil' bro and Sis, there wasn't any call or need for me (and I'm an idiot, no ask anyone).

Lil' bro called me a few weeks ago asking for some help putting dinners in the freezer for Mom, I did some research and came quickly to the conclusion the best plan was for me to just come out - so, I just went ahead and made those plans because...lil' bro asked me to just handle it. Well, sure! Not research? Not contract? You really want me to...I dunno, DO SOMETHING?

Sure. Jeez. Easy-peasy. Just dedicate a day and get it done.

Did I call Sis? She hasn't returned a call in four months. No.

So she calls me yesterday to quit. And it's all everything else - not her. Gosh, wish I could blame my funk on everyone else and stop taking phone calls. "You three are all secondary on Mom's POA - you're going to handle things. Don't call me."

Gods, I could snark. I've been telling her to redirect some of the work to me. I've been setting aside time for her to discuss Mom's care, I've written lists...made suggestions, researched options...none of it good enough, of course but you have to make the effort....

Every time, I think it's going to be different.

Just trying to find a place for it - again. I really don't know what I'm going to find when I get there, but the goal this Saturday is to 1) get meal planning into reality and 2) back it up with resources. Like, dinners in the freezer for 30 days and menus supporting them.

I know how to do this. Why...*throws up hands* *blows air*

Going to Hemet Saturday. Early. As soon as I know more, I'm sure I'll feel better about it - but I have to feel for Mom at this point. Just too much work, too bad so sad.

As I was telling Rey today - there are some things I just won't do, because she does them. One of them is that I always answer the phone. I USE THE GODDAMN PHONE, OKAY? (Make me crazy angry? Don't return calls. Promise.)

You ever wonder why I won't consider a career of any stripe in social work. Sis has that profession - I don't want *anything* near it unless she leaves it first.

I want to stick a banana in her tailpipe. SO BAD. (Anything else ain't worth the jail time.)
kyburg: (Default)
I can't believe I did the whoooooole thing.

(You did, Donna, you did.)

I can't believe I did the whooooooooole thing!

Somewhere about Wednesday of last week, it became plain as plain thing that I wasn't going to get Mom (or my niece and grand-nephew) out for Easter.

Somewhere about Friday, I got a call from BIL - Mom got back bloodwork that had been Bad. And there was now a plan for that branch of the family to go out Sunday. Okay. Watch me dance the Riverdance, do multiple calculations in my head while directing cats in heavy traffic. Naked.

Saturday, I basically got up and grabbed the bullwhip. Folks, get your breakfasts done - I have a list that has to get done by noon or else.

Well, the call came in to meet up at Mom's before the shopping at Target, so the idea of redressing us all in Easter Clothes got scrapped - don't need that, we're not staying long enough for anyone to know what we have on. ^^

But the eggs MUST get colored, the ancillary shopping MUST get done, the lunch MUST be eaten and so on.

I had my walkthrough of the new venue for the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books (say that three times fast, try writing it over and over again) at USC at 2:00 PM SHARP.

Well, the boys went down for naps and the decision was made NOT to try the Exposition Park museums while I was touring. Jim is still coming off a bad barking cough bug and kid was just as happy to be home on top of him.

But Sunday? Hold onto your ass, Fred.

3:00 AM - I wake up for no particular reason, but when I fall back asleep have the most lucid dreams I can recall in a long time, involving my mother's death, driving airport shuttle again by accident (and trying to figure out how to return the van without getting caught) and running into many ex-coworkers when I try. Also, I still only cry in my dreams. Special.
5:30 AM - The household wakes. Bringing small child back to bed with us for a snuggle, I try to decide who is going to get out of bed, hide the eggs and make it back without tipping off small child. While boys are working out the intricacies of Pokemon Black, I make my move. Bringing back the empty egg cartons, I claim the Easter Bunny has ransacked my refrigerator and the eggs are all OVER the backyard! Egg hunt ensues, he finds them all and much fun is had. This is followed up with a proper breakfast made from the eggy booty. (He gets two of them, peeled and halved - Mom and Dad get creamed eggs on toast.)
9:30 - we are in church, having run to the market to get flowers, cupcakes and cookies first. Egg hunt #2 right after services. Resurrection story described with flowers and butterflies - WIN. (Kid plays plants vs. zombies all the way through sermon, paster in full knowledge of same and grinning. WIN TWICE.)
10:45 - On our way to get to Sis' house for a 11:30 departure to Hemet. We make it.
1:00 Arrive in Hemet, watching everybody else arrive within five minutes of each other. We are GOOD, people. Party, party, party, party - EAT - visit, repeat. Make Mom's day and I get to see the lab results and exhale. I am promptly curbed by Sis because we all know my experience with these types of things is very skewed because I've buried a husband who had them all first. (Short answer - they're not perfect, but not out of line for someone 87 years old with one kidney on four BIG GUN antibiotics the last two weeks. Stay tuned.) Egg hunt #3 a total success.
4:30ish - Everyone packs up and goes home, decision made to have dinner back in town with Sis and her crew because they are overnighting at LAX in poshy hotel digs to take kid to airport at OHDAMNITSEARLY for flight to Hawaii with ROTC. We decide on place while enroute home via text messages, me using both smart phones to make it happen. Smug.
6:00 - Arrive home. Kid has slept most of the way home. Get out, unkink and make sure house has not burned down. Cats shocked.
6:30 - Back in car, off to dinner. Num, num dinner. NUM. BEER!
8:00 - Back home, kid and fella into pajamas, tucked into bed. They crashed like loggy log things.
8:45 - I climb in after locking and checking house over. Clean up iPod.
9:30 - Call Rey and update.
9:45 - Tuck in with DS and Pokemon - kick Final Four, N and N's Dad's BOOTY. Watch credits roll.
10:15 - Save game, turn off and sleep like dead.

I am also now convinced you can't ruin a kid's appetite with Easter candy. My kid was not curbed from anything and he ate EVERYTHING I could have asked for.

This morning, we all got the shower, out the door on time, forgetting nothing and I actually got to my desk at my preferred hour. Shocked, I tell you.

Reset button - appears to exist after all.
kyburg: (Default)
I can't believe I did the whoooooole thing.

(You did, Donna, you did.)

I can't believe I did the whooooooooole thing!

Somewhere about Wednesday of last week, it became plain as plain thing that I wasn't going to get Mom (or my niece and grand-nephew) out for Easter.

Somewhere about Friday, I got a call from BIL - Mom got back bloodwork that had been Bad. And there was now a plan for that branch of the family to go out Sunday. Okay. Watch me dance the Riverdance, do multiple calculations in my head while directing cats in heavy traffic. Naked.

Saturday, I basically got up and grabbed the bullwhip. Folks, get your breakfasts done - I have a list that has to get done by noon or else.

Well, the call came in to meet up at Mom's before the shopping at Target, so the idea of redressing us all in Easter Clothes got scrapped - don't need that, we're not staying long enough for anyone to know what we have on. ^^

But the eggs MUST get colored, the ancillary shopping MUST get done, the lunch MUST be eaten and so on.

I had my walkthrough of the new venue for the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books (say that three times fast, try writing it over and over again) at USC at 2:00 PM SHARP.

Well, the boys went down for naps and the decision was made NOT to try the Exposition Park museums while I was touring. Jim is still coming off a bad barking cough bug and kid was just as happy to be home on top of him.

But Sunday? Hold onto your ass, Fred.

3:00 AM - I wake up for no particular reason, but when I fall back asleep have the most lucid dreams I can recall in a long time, involving my mother's death, driving airport shuttle again by accident (and trying to figure out how to return the van without getting caught) and running into many ex-coworkers when I try. Also, I still only cry in my dreams. Special.
5:30 AM - The household wakes. Bringing small child back to bed with us for a snuggle, I try to decide who is going to get out of bed, hide the eggs and make it back without tipping off small child. While boys are working out the intricacies of Pokemon Black, I make my move. Bringing back the empty egg cartons, I claim the Easter Bunny has ransacked my refrigerator and the eggs are all OVER the backyard! Egg hunt ensues, he finds them all and much fun is had. This is followed up with a proper breakfast made from the eggy booty. (He gets two of them, peeled and halved - Mom and Dad get creamed eggs on toast.)
9:30 - we are in church, having run to the market to get flowers, cupcakes and cookies first. Egg hunt #2 right after services. Resurrection story described with flowers and butterflies - WIN. (Kid plays plants vs. zombies all the way through sermon, paster in full knowledge of same and grinning. WIN TWICE.)
10:45 - On our way to get to Sis' house for a 11:30 departure to Hemet. We make it.
1:00 Arrive in Hemet, watching everybody else arrive within five minutes of each other. We are GOOD, people. Party, party, party, party - EAT - visit, repeat. Make Mom's day and I get to see the lab results and exhale. I am promptly curbed by Sis because we all know my experience with these types of things is very skewed because I've buried a husband who had them all first. (Short answer - they're not perfect, but not out of line for someone 87 years old with one kidney on four BIG GUN antibiotics the last two weeks. Stay tuned.) Egg hunt #3 a total success.
4:30ish - Everyone packs up and goes home, decision made to have dinner back in town with Sis and her crew because they are overnighting at LAX in poshy hotel digs to take kid to airport at OHDAMNITSEARLY for flight to Hawaii with ROTC. We decide on place while enroute home via text messages, me using both smart phones to make it happen. Smug.
6:00 - Arrive home. Kid has slept most of the way home. Get out, unkink and make sure house has not burned down. Cats shocked.
6:30 - Back in car, off to dinner. Num, num dinner. NUM. BEER!
8:00 - Back home, kid and fella into pajamas, tucked into bed. They crashed like loggy log things.
8:45 - I climb in after locking and checking house over. Clean up iPod.
9:30 - Call Rey and update.
9:45 - Tuck in with DS and Pokemon - kick Final Four, N and N's Dad's BOOTY. Watch credits roll.
10:15 - Save game, turn off and sleep like dead.

I am also now convinced you can't ruin a kid's appetite with Easter candy. My kid was not curbed from anything and he ate EVERYTHING I could have asked for.

This morning, we all got the shower, out the door on time, forgetting nothing and I actually got to my desk at my preferred hour. Shocked, I tell you.

Reset button - appears to exist after all.
kyburg: (Default)
I can't believe I did the whoooooole thing.

(You did, Donna, you did.)

I can't believe I did the whooooooooole thing!

Somewhere about Wednesday of last week, it became plain as plain thing that I wasn't going to get Mom (or my niece and grand-nephew) out for Easter.

Somewhere about Friday, I got a call from BIL - Mom got back bloodwork that had been Bad. And there was now a plan for that branch of the family to go out Sunday. Okay. Watch me dance the Riverdance, do multiple calculations in my head while directing cats in heavy traffic. Naked.

Saturday, I basically got up and grabbed the bullwhip. Folks, get your breakfasts done - I have a list that has to get done by noon or else.

Well, the call came in to meet up at Mom's before the shopping at Target, so the idea of redressing us all in Easter Clothes got scrapped - don't need that, we're not staying long enough for anyone to know what we have on. ^^

But the eggs MUST get colored, the ancillary shopping MUST get done, the lunch MUST be eaten and so on.

I had my walkthrough of the new venue for the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books (say that three times fast, try writing it over and over again) at USC at 2:00 PM SHARP.

Well, the boys went down for naps and the decision was made NOT to try the Exposition Park museums while I was touring. Jim is still coming off a bad barking cough bug and kid was just as happy to be home on top of him.

But Sunday? Hold onto your ass, Fred.

3:00 AM - I wake up for no particular reason, but when I fall back asleep have the most lucid dreams I can recall in a long time, involving my mother's death, driving airport shuttle again by accident (and trying to figure out how to return the van without getting caught) and running into many ex-coworkers when I try. Also, I still only cry in my dreams. Special.
5:30 AM - The household wakes. Bringing small child back to bed with us for a snuggle, I try to decide who is going to get out of bed, hide the eggs and make it back without tipping off small child. While boys are working out the intricacies of Pokemon Black, I make my move. Bringing back the empty egg cartons, I claim the Easter Bunny has ransacked my refrigerator and the eggs are all OVER the backyard! Egg hunt ensues, he finds them all and much fun is had. This is followed up with a proper breakfast made from the eggy booty. (He gets two of them, peeled and halved - Mom and Dad get creamed eggs on toast.)
9:30 - we are in church, having run to the market to get flowers, cupcakes and cookies first. Egg hunt #2 right after services. Resurrection story described with flowers and butterflies - WIN. (Kid plays plants vs. zombies all the way through sermon, paster in full knowledge of same and grinning. WIN TWICE.)
10:45 - On our way to get to Sis' house for a 11:30 departure to Hemet. We make it.
1:00 Arrive in Hemet, watching everybody else arrive within five minutes of each other. We are GOOD, people. Party, party, party, party - EAT - visit, repeat. Make Mom's day and I get to see the lab results and exhale. I am promptly curbed by Sis because we all know my experience with these types of things is very skewed because I've buried a husband who had them all first. (Short answer - they're not perfect, but not out of line for someone 87 years old with one kidney on four BIG GUN antibiotics the last two weeks. Stay tuned.) Egg hunt #3 a total success.
4:30ish - Everyone packs up and goes home, decision made to have dinner back in town with Sis and her crew because they are overnighting at LAX in poshy hotel digs to take kid to airport at OHDAMNITSEARLY for flight to Hawaii with ROTC. We decide on place while enroute home via text messages, me using both smart phones to make it happen. Smug.
6:00 - Arrive home. Kid has slept most of the way home. Get out, unkink and make sure house has not burned down. Cats shocked.
6:30 - Back in car, off to dinner. Num, num dinner. NUM. BEER!
8:00 - Back home, kid and fella into pajamas, tucked into bed. They crashed like loggy log things.
8:45 - I climb in after locking and checking house over. Clean up iPod.
9:30 - Call Rey and update.
9:45 - Tuck in with DS and Pokemon - kick Final Four, N and N's Dad's BOOTY. Watch credits roll.
10:15 - Save game, turn off and sleep like dead.

I am also now convinced you can't ruin a kid's appetite with Easter candy. My kid was not curbed from anything and he ate EVERYTHING I could have asked for.

This morning, we all got the shower, out the door on time, forgetting nothing and I actually got to my desk at my preferred hour. Shocked, I tell you.

Reset button - appears to exist after all.

Two years.

Mar. 15th, 2011 02:41 pm
kyburg: (Mommy me)
Two years, tomorrow - Jim and I took a taxi from the best hotel either of us had ever stayed in, through tiny back streets listening to Armed Forces Radio out of the Phillipines (it was in English) to a small multi-level complex in Tainan, Taiwan. Arriving at 9 AM, for a 10 AM appointment - we would be kept waiting until nearly 1 PM for Xander's foster parents to arrive with him. (They were late - and today, I know they had stopped off for one more lunch at McDonald's with him. At the time, I had no idea.)

To hand him over to us, saying good bye forever to him. At that point, he was 3.5 years old and had never known any other parents but them. They'd had a DVD of Jim telling him about a tricyle, me reading 'If You Give A Mouse A Cookie' to him - they'd had a book of photographs to get him ready. What you can't tell a child that young in any useable way is that these strange people who don't speak your language are going to be the only thing even remotely familiar to you - after this day.

There is video Jim took while we were there - and we must have spent an hour just trying to get our feet under us. We didn't eat lunch, and I spent the bulk of the time his foster parents were there just trying to get this *tiny* little boy to play with me. The video breaks me anew every time I watch it.

They cried. He cried. He would cry for them for six months solid. And because I'm the heavy, I was the one who had to tell him they wouldn't be coming for him.

It would be nine months before he wanted *anything* to do with me. At times, I was barely the babysitter.

I was taking small videos and texting acquaintances with Chinese language proficiency just to know what he was saying. At night, it would be him begging to go home through the hysterics.

And there was no home to go to, because he was already at the one there was for him. For good or ill, we were it.

I can tell you, no amount of toys will compensate for the loss of everything you ever knew.

It's gotten better. The shock is in the past now, even though we experience anniversary echoes of the trauma and transitions of any kind rock him harder than the uninitiated are used to.

He's an amazing person. With no previous experience with companion animals, he walked into our home and greeted the cats, each one, as an equal and to this day has never harmed any of them, even out of curiosity. He's never so much as torn a piece of paper, or scribbled on the walls with a crayon or investigated the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. We're too protective to leave him unsupervised very long, but somewhere along the way, there is a lot of destructive behaviors that were either curbed younger than I can fathom, or he just doesn't have it in him.

He's innately safe - which can be kind of spooky. Monkey bars? Damn, he's good. Stops when he gets over his head, waaay before it would be an issue - and up to that point? Proficient and careful. Smart, smart boy.

It's clear he was spanked as the boundary to really unacceptable behavior, though. I didn't like finding that out.

He came to us completely toilet-trained, using utensils to eat with. Took a bottle of formula morning and evening, and it's clear why - this kid would NOT eat. And why not, when that was the best way to get attention focused on you? He was tiny. Think a 25 lb bag of sugar, at 3.5 years old - that won't eat.

It was rice, ramen, french fries, formula and chicken nuggets. For a loooong time. Each time we added something new, it was a major victory. Two years later, we're *still* adding - and struggling with - foods.

He's grown from being in 24mos clothing to being completely out of toddler clothes - size 5, top and bottom. A dozen pairs of shoes, all worn out and outgrown.

Within the first 90 days, he came down with scarlet fever. He had H1N1 in November. The pediatrician here put him on a nine month course of antibiotics for possible latent tuberculosis because he had a positive PPD skin test. (Well, duh - they inoculate for that in Taiwan, sheesh.) We had a long string of nasty high fever illnesses. (And me too - I was sick the entire first year and change. I was coughing up blood the day after AX that year.) That was special - and we had to compound the dose daily breaking down the tablets into shave ice syrup because the pharmacy didn't have one of its own.

Today? A sniffle now and then, nothing serious. I'm looking forward to the results from this year's physical because I'd like confirmation of him moving from the 0-2% in height weight to above the 50%. I'm pretty sure he has.

We start kindergarden this fall, if everything falls into place. We're having to work language hard - there are deficits - but we had been warned to expect them. Yes, we will being doing Chinese school - as soon as I'm confident his English won't be sunk by it.

And he misses me when I'm away. He really is Jim's kid, but Mommy isn't all bad anymore. (She's still the heavy, though.) I can tell him I love him and he believes me now. Before, sorry - no offense, but you have to understand you're new around here. And if you hate me enough, maybe you'll give me back.

I would have done anything to have made this easier - and I'm still trying to keep as much as I can, but more slides away every year. I want to go back to Taiwan. I want to reunite his foster family, even if just for an hour - I want them (and my kid) to know they didn't end when we showed up.

It's not a popular stance - but then again, am I one for sticking with popular if it doesn't work?

Two years.

Cuddle time.

Two years.

Mar. 15th, 2011 02:41 pm
kyburg: (Mommy me)
Two years, tomorrow - Jim and I took a taxi from the best hotel either of us had ever stayed in, through tiny back streets listening to Armed Forces Radio out of the Phillipines (it was in English) to a small multi-level complex in Tainan, Taiwan. Arriving at 9 AM, for a 10 AM appointment - we would be kept waiting until nearly 1 PM for Xander's foster parents to arrive with him. (They were late - and today, I know they had stopped off for one more lunch at McDonald's with him. At the time, I had no idea.)

To hand him over to us, saying good bye forever to him. At that point, he was 3.5 years old and had never known any other parents but them. They'd had a DVD of Jim telling him about a tricyle, me reading 'If You Give A Mouse A Cookie' to him - they'd had a book of photographs to get him ready. What you can't tell a child that young in any useable way is that these strange people who don't speak your language are going to be the only thing even remotely familiar to you - after this day.

There is video Jim took while we were there - and we must have spent an hour just trying to get our feet under us. We didn't eat lunch, and I spent the bulk of the time his foster parents were there just trying to get this *tiny* little boy to play with me. The video breaks me anew every time I watch it.

They cried. He cried. He would cry for them for six months solid. And because I'm the heavy, I was the one who had to tell him they wouldn't be coming for him.

It would be nine months before he wanted *anything* to do with me. At times, I was barely the babysitter.

I was taking small videos and texting acquaintances with Chinese language proficiency just to know what he was saying. At night, it would be him begging to go home through the hysterics.

And there was no home to go to, because he was already at the one there was for him. For good or ill, we were it.

I can tell you, no amount of toys will compensate for the loss of everything you ever knew.

It's gotten better. The shock is in the past now, even though we experience anniversary echoes of the trauma and transitions of any kind rock him harder than the uninitiated are used to.

He's an amazing person. With no previous experience with companion animals, he walked into our home and greeted the cats, each one, as an equal and to this day has never harmed any of them, even out of curiosity. He's never so much as torn a piece of paper, or scribbled on the walls with a crayon or investigated the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. We're too protective to leave him unsupervised very long, but somewhere along the way, there is a lot of destructive behaviors that were either curbed younger than I can fathom, or he just doesn't have it in him.

He's innately safe - which can be kind of spooky. Monkey bars? Damn, he's good. Stops when he gets over his head, waaay before it would be an issue - and up to that point? Proficient and careful. Smart, smart boy.

It's clear he was spanked as the boundary to really unacceptable behavior, though. I didn't like finding that out.

He came to us completely toilet-trained, using utensils to eat with. Took a bottle of formula morning and evening, and it's clear why - this kid would NOT eat. And why not, when that was the best way to get attention focused on you? He was tiny. Think a 25 lb bag of sugar, at 3.5 years old - that won't eat.

It was rice, ramen, french fries, formula and chicken nuggets. For a loooong time. Each time we added something new, it was a major victory. Two years later, we're *still* adding - and struggling with - foods.

He's grown from being in 24mos clothing to being completely out of toddler clothes - size 5, top and bottom. A dozen pairs of shoes, all worn out and outgrown.

Within the first 90 days, he came down with scarlet fever. He had H1N1 in November. The pediatrician here put him on a nine month course of antibiotics for possible latent tuberculosis because he had a positive PPD skin test. (Well, duh - they inoculate for that in Taiwan, sheesh.) We had a long string of nasty high fever illnesses. (And me too - I was sick the entire first year and change. I was coughing up blood the day after AX that year.) That was special - and we had to compound the dose daily breaking down the tablets into shave ice syrup because the pharmacy didn't have one of its own.

Today? A sniffle now and then, nothing serious. I'm looking forward to the results from this year's physical because I'd like confirmation of him moving from the 0-2% in height weight to above the 50%. I'm pretty sure he has.

We start kindergarden this fall, if everything falls into place. We're having to work language hard - there are deficits - but we had been warned to expect them. Yes, we will being doing Chinese school - as soon as I'm confident his English won't be sunk by it.

And he misses me when I'm away. He really is Jim's kid, but Mommy isn't all bad anymore. (She's still the heavy, though.) I can tell him I love him and he believes me now. Before, sorry - no offense, but you have to understand you're new around here. And if you hate me enough, maybe you'll give me back.

I would have done anything to have made this easier - and I'm still trying to keep as much as I can, but more slides away every year. I want to go back to Taiwan. I want to reunite his foster family, even if just for an hour - I want them (and my kid) to know they didn't end when we showed up.

It's not a popular stance - but then again, am I one for sticking with popular if it doesn't work?

Two years.

Cuddle time.

Two years.

Mar. 15th, 2011 02:41 pm
kyburg: (Mommy me)
Two years, tomorrow - Jim and I took a taxi from the best hotel either of us had ever stayed in, through tiny back streets listening to Armed Forces Radio out of the Phillipines (it was in English) to a small multi-level complex in Tainan, Taiwan. Arriving at 9 AM, for a 10 AM appointment - we would be kept waiting until nearly 1 PM for Xander's foster parents to arrive with him. (They were late - and today, I know they had stopped off for one more lunch at McDonald's with him. At the time, I had no idea.)

To hand him over to us, saying good bye forever to him. At that point, he was 3.5 years old and had never known any other parents but them. They'd had a DVD of Jim telling him about a tricyle, me reading 'If You Give A Mouse A Cookie' to him - they'd had a book of photographs to get him ready. What you can't tell a child that young in any useable way is that these strange people who don't speak your language are going to be the only thing even remotely familiar to you - after this day.

There is video Jim took while we were there - and we must have spent an hour just trying to get our feet under us. We didn't eat lunch, and I spent the bulk of the time his foster parents were there just trying to get this *tiny* little boy to play with me. The video breaks me anew every time I watch it.

They cried. He cried. He would cry for them for six months solid. And because I'm the heavy, I was the one who had to tell him they wouldn't be coming for him.

It would be nine months before he wanted *anything* to do with me. At times, I was barely the babysitter.

I was taking small videos and texting acquaintances with Chinese language proficiency just to know what he was saying. At night, it would be him begging to go home through the hysterics.

And there was no home to go to, because he was already at the one there was for him. For good or ill, we were it.

I can tell you, no amount of toys will compensate for the loss of everything you ever knew.

It's gotten better. The shock is in the past now, even though we experience anniversary echoes of the trauma and transitions of any kind rock him harder than the uninitiated are used to.

He's an amazing person. With no previous experience with companion animals, he walked into our home and greeted the cats, each one, as an equal and to this day has never harmed any of them, even out of curiosity. He's never so much as torn a piece of paper, or scribbled on the walls with a crayon or investigated the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. We're too protective to leave him unsupervised very long, but somewhere along the way, there is a lot of destructive behaviors that were either curbed younger than I can fathom, or he just doesn't have it in him.

He's innately safe - which can be kind of spooky. Monkey bars? Damn, he's good. Stops when he gets over his head, waaay before it would be an issue - and up to that point? Proficient and careful. Smart, smart boy.

It's clear he was spanked as the boundary to really unacceptable behavior, though. I didn't like finding that out.

He came to us completely toilet-trained, using utensils to eat with. Took a bottle of formula morning and evening, and it's clear why - this kid would NOT eat. And why not, when that was the best way to get attention focused on you? He was tiny. Think a 25 lb bag of sugar, at 3.5 years old - that won't eat.

It was rice, ramen, french fries, formula and chicken nuggets. For a loooong time. Each time we added something new, it was a major victory. Two years later, we're *still* adding - and struggling with - foods.

He's grown from being in 24mos clothing to being completely out of toddler clothes - size 5, top and bottom. A dozen pairs of shoes, all worn out and outgrown.

Within the first 90 days, he came down with scarlet fever. He had H1N1 in November. The pediatrician here put him on a nine month course of antibiotics for possible latent tuberculosis because he had a positive PPD skin test. (Well, duh - they inoculate for that in Taiwan, sheesh.) We had a long string of nasty high fever illnesses. (And me too - I was sick the entire first year and change. I was coughing up blood the day after AX that year.) That was special - and we had to compound the dose daily breaking down the tablets into shave ice syrup because the pharmacy didn't have one of its own.

Today? A sniffle now and then, nothing serious. I'm looking forward to the results from this year's physical because I'd like confirmation of him moving from the 0-2% in height weight to above the 50%. I'm pretty sure he has.

We start kindergarden this fall, if everything falls into place. We're having to work language hard - there are deficits - but we had been warned to expect them. Yes, we will being doing Chinese school - as soon as I'm confident his English won't be sunk by it.

And he misses me when I'm away. He really is Jim's kid, but Mommy isn't all bad anymore. (She's still the heavy, though.) I can tell him I love him and he believes me now. Before, sorry - no offense, but you have to understand you're new around here. And if you hate me enough, maybe you'll give me back.

I would have done anything to have made this easier - and I'm still trying to keep as much as I can, but more slides away every year. I want to go back to Taiwan. I want to reunite his foster family, even if just for an hour - I want them (and my kid) to know they didn't end when we showed up.

It's not a popular stance - but then again, am I one for sticking with popular if it doesn't work?

Two years.

Cuddle time.
kyburg: (bad mommy)
Kentucky is still on the radar - coming in to preschool this morning, I got pulled aside for a quick parent-teacher conference. It would appear another child has been at school since we got back from our vacation...one that is deaf, aggressive and disrespectful. Uh oh.

Well, I had expected something to show up. What I didn't predict was what followed. I'm the only threat my kid respects. Dad is a complete non-starter when it comes to 'I'm going to have to talk to your Dad if you keep this up.' Not a problem. Taking to The Mom? OH NOES.

I'm...not sure how that works out, to be honest. I'll take it - it's a tool - but I may have to kick Dad into overdrive to get this figured out.

My kid does not do well with transitions - and he's been hit with two big ones at the same time. The trip took him out of his element for two weeks...and he got a new classroom full of kids when he got back. I'm pretty sure they're still sorting out the pecking order. But I've also seen the missing attention span, respect and so on at home, so it's consistent. Five is SOCIAL. Repeat it with me. SOCIAL. As in, who's FIRST and BIGGER? (And shinier, but that's another day.) Where do I fit in, and what makes me feel safe there?

This morning, he's got a huge cankersore, probably the first one he's even known and wouldn't you know it would be found brushing his teeth? Then he slipped and fell on the kitchen floor getting his shoes on (this never happens) and he frankly did not like getting out of his pajamas before 9 AM. (They were history at 5:30 AM. Courtesy of The Mom. I was not popular.)

So he already had a boo-boo morning going into things. Hope things improved over the day.

We got paid Friday. We paid bills Friday. We're skating on thin thin ice until the next payday. Hope nothing big crops up out of the blue and our bank doesn't throw a shoe again. The tap dancing is getting old, folks. VERY old. No, I don't have money to mail the packages, take the dry cleaning in, shave the cats, fund a worthy cause or go party. ComiCon was dead in the water when I first heard about it, the only hope I have of ever attending it again is if they move it to Anaheim or Los Angeles. Anaheim, I KNOW I can get hotel space. Los Angeles? PAYALOT. No problem. San Diego laughs at me. HARD.

Social networking for the win was Saturday when I recognized Koji at the Japanese-American National Museum from Facebook, introduced myself and was rewarded handsomely for my diligence with an AWESOME new book they just stocked. "Unfinished Messages" by Toshio Mori, and it's all Japanese traditional-style short stories. YUM. They were having Target Free Saturday, which is a mis-nomer...Target sponsors the museum every second Saturday, so admission is free and they also provide funds for craft projects, teaching and so on. This month was travel-related stuff, so we have a backpack, luggage tags, metro maps and tokens and so on. The Yakult people were also there (WIN) and were suitably impressed with our love for the product. Kid grabbed his wee bottle and slurped it right down in front of the lady, and handed the empty back with a thank you. (You want a pitchman for Yakult, get my kid. He loves the stuff, and so does his Mom.)

We're pretty easy to spot and remember, it would appear. Museum staff now knows us on sight - and this time, they suggested I volunteer. ME. I am chuffed.

Sunday was lack of church due to lack of child care staff (his beloved teacher has gone onto college), so I had to find a substitute (it's too hot to stay home all day without losing our little minds), and there was another Target-funded event just down the way in San Pedro. The notification I got didn't tell me what time it started, so I assumed eh-eh 10:30, 11:00 AM?

We got there, found everything set up and ready to go - fantastic playground we lost an hour in - and then I found the banner. Events didn't begin until 2 PM. Erg, grr.

So we ate lunch, took naps and slowly melted into the west the rest of the afternoon.

Cool showers at 9 PM are AWESOME.

How was your weekend?

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