melikey veep palin

i couldn't resist- i've held off for awhile though. as the tear ran down my face at the democratic convention watching my homegirl rock it, it quickly dried when my second least favorite old white guy announced his new hot number. can you even believe it? i guess they signed her up to draw women voters and guess who just got sucked right in.. this is one wild election. what's not to like about this palin? she's a mom of 3? 4? no 5 kids! one of which with special needs. her eldest son enlisted in the army, her husband is part eskimo and some crazy ass snowmobiler- and she poses for vogue in north face clothes. did i mention she's a woman- and she looks like tina fey? come on! the feminist in me's gettin all fired up. my only criticsm thus far is her seemingly weak stance on the environment- but hey mccain's as green as they come right?
i'm just dying to know what's next... i guess all i know for now is that to run for office you need at leas one old white guy in the mix... how does an obama/palin ticket sound. too good to be true.
whadda yo thoughts?

lily shawn liukin

i met this mom a couple years back who told me she was only the second craziest mom at her daughters gym (central coast gymnastics). i laughed to myself, afterall my daughter was only 9 months old at the time, and i really couldn't conceive of such mom fervor. however, it took me back to my own glory days of high school basketball and how my mom never missed one game.. ever. tournaments, C.I.F., all of it, she didn't miss a beat. i didn't think much of it at the time, but now as my children get older and i see them next to other kids, whether it be at the park, the pool, or even gymnastics, i can't help but wonder??
i'm sure it doesn't help that i've been totally consumed by the olympics the last couple weeks. staying up late, TiVo-ing at my in-laws, going online- i'm obsessed. there's just something about world class athletes that gets me all warm and tingly. whether its imagining myself becoming an olympic marathon runner (afterall they prime in their 30's), my daughter following after nadia, or maybe even an ozzie phelps- i want it all! i devour the bio's, i listen intently -searching for any clues from their childhood that might rival my own kids. i imagine myself debbie phelps style- cameras flashing to her every other minute, or maybe i'll be like nastia's mom, wandering the streets of beijing during the all-around, because the pressure's just to consuming. in any event, i'm there and i'm proud as can be cause my kid is someone.
which leads me to my own kids. now i'll be the first to admit that rose-colored glasses don't keep me from seeing my kids faults- shoot i've got a magnifying glass up in here- observing every little flaw and feat. my kids didn't walk at 10 months, i practically have to push them down the slide, and there will be no diving and no dunking. when it comes to sports, lily just wants to discuss what she will wear. let me share a recent conversation with you..
lily- "hey mom, remember when those cheerleaders washed our car?" (it was a fundraiser for mb cheer)
me- "yeah babe, that was cool." (it was like a year ago)
lily- "yeah, i liked what they were wearing. mom, were you a cheerleader?"
me- laughing, "no, i definitely was not a cheerleader, i played sports- like basketball and soccer"
lily- quiet for awhile, then with all the authority in the world "mom, cheerleading is a sport!"

and oz, he's a whole nother trip- the kid would rather tweak on little matchbox cars then push them. he has an unhealthy obsession with ceiling fans and light switches, and when he recently discovered b's remote control helicopter, he sat for 25 solid minutes tweaking on all the propellers and such.
in all honesty (sniff, sniff) i don't see any olympians coming from this house- yet once again i'm reminded that these little people really are who they are. much as i try, and boy will i try to influence them, they will be their own people.

and that's all okay, cause it often floors me at how desperately i want them to be happy- even if it means oz's greatest aspiration will be being an engineer like his ol man, and lil making the final cut for project runway. whatever the case, we'll be proud, cause afterall they're ours and our love for them conquers all. but it doesn't mean i can't dream- just last week as lily mounted the bar, i swear i saw even for just a glimpse a little mary lou in the making, and i knew without a doubt i would and will be that mom.

if you don't learn how to swim, you will drown and DIE!!

i know it sounds harsh, but desperate times call for desperate measures. we are currently in our own private hell called swim lessons. summer after summer, i put myself through this torture. i'm not sure what motivates me to try this every year. perhaps it has something to do with the title, or maybe its just what you do with kids in the summertime. in any event, my kid is that kid. you know the one that screeches and whines just getting in the pool... never mind that once she's in you have to hold her with a death grip just to quell the panic. day after day (they go for 10 long days, and we've only finished day 3) it seems to get progressively worse. the first day she seemed a lot more confident than last year, perhaps that's because last years swim lessons consisted of me, and the teacher in the water each time, and her barely leaving the steps. she wouldn't even let the teacher hold her... why you ask... he was a boy. this year i signed her up with her little friend and specifically requested a female teacher, with the hopes of some lasting change in her swim career. i was dead wrong, let me just set the stage for the first day.
we get there and and there are like 12 kids all with goggles, swim caps and speedos (maybe not the caps). the instructor says ok, jump in and lets get our ears wet!" as if that's perfectly normal. i'm like, are you f-in kidding me? i didn't get my ears wet till i was six! perhaps that's where she gets it. in any event this class was def out of our league, so we transferred to the mommy and me, where we were once again resigned to squirt toys and sing wheels on the bus. i'm thinking, i paid $150 for what exactly? so now i've got a crying lily being carried by the teacher over to me and oz in the other class. so how am i supposed to do this? i turn to the steps and see my mom wading into the water in capris and a collared shirt. at first i'm mortified, then i realize that i'm not 16 and really, she's basically saving the day. again. so we end the first day with the two most timid kids in the world. i leave feeling discouraged. but resolve tomorrow will be better.
not so much.
wed?
maybe worse.
so i run into a mom i know at traders on tues- you know just enough removed that they don't really know how crazy my kids are. i'm still in my suit from the earlier fiasco so they ask what i'm up to. i start to go into the whole shebang about how horrible swim has been and blah blah blah whats wrong with my kids. she just looks at me with that phony empathy face, you know that smile like, "i don't have any idea what you're talking about!" after i realize i'm not in a therapy session, i snap out of it and say, "so how are you guys anyway?" she says, "oh we're good, yeah we did swim lessons early this summer." me, "oh cool, how'd it go?" "great, gosh little sara is just a fish, you're lucky they're cautious, that's just being safe. sara is going under and jumping in, she's fearless out there!" me, "that's awesome! great, good to see you..."
back bragger i mumble as i walk away. which leads me to my next annoying mom issue.
it really could use its own separate post, but i'll touch on it here. the back brag. let me give you a perfect example from my own life (i have millions).

back bragging mom (bbm)- so how are things going? gosh oz sure is getting big! is he walking yet?
me- uh, no, not yet.
bbm- gosh, how old is he now?
me- (reluctantly) he's what, 15 months (really 15.5)
bbm- wow, you're lucky though. little petey's been not just walking, but running since 10 months! we are just chasing him everywhere.
me- yeah i guess.
there's your basic back brag. that one's a pretty natural one, but its really good when you get someone doing everything in their power to steer the conversation to brag about their kid. it's like me saying to a mom having trouble potty training her toddler... "gosh you're lucky little tommy's 4 and still not potty trained, lily was done with diapers before she was 2.5! what a pain it was always having to take her potty and not buy diapers.
come on.
the things us moms do and think!
so anyway, i apologize if i come off to cynical, i guess i'm just a little wounded about my non-amphibious kids. just another time i'm reminded that i have no control over these guys... they are who they are, one of them being a prima donna. in any event i'll keep you posted on the outcome, tomorrow is "dunking day." that should go over well uh?

fluly

its flu-ly around here. not to be mistaken with july. us rodgeees have been hit hard this last month. our first battle with the stomach flu in early july has been followed by your basic influenza A or B or some shiz. it basically looks like high fever, comatose, cranky, whiny, coughy, needy kids. NOT FUN. for the last week i've been on the brink of, and have actually succeeded in losing it.
which leads me to my next rant.
healthy kids.
we are blessed. there are no other words. when i say we, i don't just mean my family, i mean 99% of families i know. within my social circle, very few children have any sort of chronic illness or disability. with my kids having this temporal, but seemingly eternal flu, my mind has been bombarded with some crazy ass thoughts. most very dramatic, and many tragic- ending in death. i've almost become convinced some sort of severe hardship is looming. call it the enemy, i'd really like to, but whatever the case its got me thinking...
this last week of 1921 flu house has got me wondering if my kids will ever be back to normal. will the endless cycle of wiggles, george, and cinderella ever end? will i be destined to sit on the couch with my daughter cranking on my belly button (its sort of her safe place) for months on end? will i possibly survive the needyness these kids seem to have buckets of? things can seem so dark so fast. when life feels so overwhelming with a high fever, it makes me nervous to think how i could handle leukemia or worse.
so then i find myself blog stalking this afternoon. i really dig this chicks blog. and from her blog i found myself here. and then for some cosmic reason i clicked on this one. while i really enjoyed her july 22nd entry on boobs, i had to take it one step further and read her bio or whatever. you know, for some semblance that i could possibly write as well as her or any of the aforementioned someday. anyway, while checkin her stats, i find that she has two beautiful kids (fric and frac- how funny is that) and had lost one other a couple years back. as i read through the pages, tears streaming down my face, i was astounded once again by mankind's strength. this redneck woman doesn't appear to be a woman of faith- at least the faith we proclaim, but the resolve, strength, and raw emotion in her words jolt me. i know i've shared my very minor struggles (but seemed liked mountains at the time) with ozzy. nothing in me desires to go through that again. in fact i often wonder if i do get pregnant again, if the shear anxiety won't completely overtake me. yet i see this woman, and others, that have gone through the loss of a child and still can come up for air. the fact that they are even breathing is astounding, but to think they'd sign up for a potentially similar outcome staggers me. this woman is in the process of a adopting a special needs child. this, after she lost her 5 year old- that's five years of life and love, all to love another kid who might not have the chance to be loved.

i'm not totally sure what my angle is here. maybe i'm just coming off a hard week, but whatever the case, i really just hope and pray that when, or if God presents me with such hardship, the resolve and grace to walk through it would come in abundance.
so thank God today, would ya. we got it good people.

you know you live in los osos when...

so i decide to go on a hike this morning with ozzy. with lily off at preschool on tuesday mornings i'm offered luxuries like watching the today show, exercising, and having only one kid. so like the compassionate pet owner i am, i decide to take our dog on this new hike in the park brandon told me about. part of my motivation in bringing the dog is that last time i tried the hike, i encountered two coyotes in the middle of the trail. after a frantic call to brandon where he assured me coyotes are not to be feared, i promptly turned around and headed back down the trail. anyhow, i digress. so with oz in the backpack, my hillary is my homegirl shirt, and lou leading the way, we make our way up the steep incline. no coyotes this time, just lots of scat. at the top, i'm amazed as i get a full view of los osos, the spit, the bay and all the way to the rock. its truly breathtaking and i'm reminded how blessed we are to call this place home. after my moment, i charge down avoiding any scrap of sand in my rockin new hiking shoes (not boots). as i turn the corner to reach my van, i lean down to take lou of her leash and as i look up i see a huge sign that says something like, "absolutely no dogs ever on trails." as i contemplate my sin, i hear a truck slowing as it pulls into the parking area. just my luck, its a ranger. so here i am red-handed. i am standing under an unmistakable sign with my dog. as i'm considering what words to throw out.. mountain lion, rabid coyote, skunk etc, i see him checking out none other than my EV.
thats right, you know you are in los osos when a ranger stops you with your dog, in a no dog area, to talk to you about your eurovan.

perfect.

five finger spray

i have been dying to call in sick for the last 3 years.

my ideal situation would be a real bad cold. maybe a little fever to make it legit. i would wake up feverish, roll over and groan. brandon would look over and say, "are you okay?" i would sigh, and say, "i feel really terrible." i would want him to say, "babe, i'm so sorry you feel horrible. i'll get the kids and take them downstairs, and call in sick today- you just keep sleeping. let me know if you need anything." however, it would probably sound more like, "so are you going to get up, or do i have to call in sick today?" in either event, the day would progress with me making my way downstairs to an empty house (b probably took the kids to the park methinks). i would post up on the couch, and begin the marathon. i would doze and sip hot tea, with a fire in the fireplace (cause it would be winter of course), read and watch movies. i'd probably start with "along came polly," or "devil wears prada." b would somehow manage to be gone all day with the kids, lest they catch my infirmity. the day would commence with me on the couch, asleep as my family comes bounding in with hot, homemade chicken and wild rice soup with fresh bread, and we would all live happily ever after.
in all honesty the above scenario has often sounded better than a vacation. perhaps b/c i can relish in my own selfishness sans kids, or maybe just the solitude, and option to be lazy as a motha... whatever the case.. it's undoubtedly dreamy...
i'll tell you whats not dreamy. waking up at 3 am with a churning, burning stomach. "oh, lord, please don't let this be happening." tossing and turning relentlessly for the next three hours.."come on, when is it going to be day time?" cause for some reason that's comforting? light finally breaks with a screeching son just as i drift off pain free. i turn to my husband, "honey, i've got it." the "it" i'm referring to is the stomach flu, that oz came down with saturday. poor buddy yarfed like 6 times in a 12 hour period. he came through like a champ, just as b woke up monday morning with "it." b was a trooper, he was home all day yet still managed to help loads with the kids. (i'm kind of lacking in the whole nurturing your husband area). i was pretty convinced lily and i would remain unscathed. come on, its the middle of the summer, we're leaving tonight to go houseboating for the 4th... really? really? this is my sick day? this sucks... it almost sucks as much as an esophageal eruption of trader joes brown rice all morning long. however its here, and my kids are gone, and despite my ongoing, rage filled, vurping stomach.. i'll take what i can get.
it's still kind of nice to have a sick day.

so i'm sitting in my office trying to get some work done (yeah, real work). if anyone's in the market for a 2.4 million dollar home... i'm your girl. yet, i digress. anyhow, my mom is over helping with the kids. suddenly lily comes bursting in in her disney princess nightgown pleading, "momma, can i play with cornstarch and water?" i look at her and say, "no babe, not right now. it's almost naptime." wounded, she walks back into her room and i hear her say to my mom, "my mom said no." mimi says, "how bout we do it after your nap?" lily says, "no, i want to do it now." my mom, "not right now lil, after your nap." lily looks up at her with all the authority in the world and says, "mimi, sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do.."
translation: get up off your arse and get me some cornstarch.
gotta love three.