8.12.2007

The Wrong Totoro and YouTube-O-Rama

The Wrong Totoro and YouTube-O-Rama

Everyone knows that Disney re-dubbed Totoro, right? Even though the Fox version was perfectly lovely (and yes, I know the DVD transfer kind of sucks). Everyone also knows that with Disney, we generally get overly shiny and brassy and big and vapid and lowest common denominator. But even that knowledge did not prepare me for the newly re-sung opening theme, which sounds as though this woman mistook her throat for her coochie, and the song for a ping-pong ball:



So, yeah, we're watching lots of YouTube lately. And it's working; Leelo is sitting on the potty longer and longer and longer and is having quite a few BMs there. Here is what he mostly wants me to loop indefinitely, which would be fine if I had an bottomless source of pot to go along with it:



Next is what Mali always wants to watch. ("Umo! Mommy, I need you to help me watch Umo!")



I get it; I love crazy music-making women from Japan, too. But how is it that I didn't know that one of my favorite Cibo Matto songs had a trippy video to go with it? And how embarrasing is it that I had to find out from Entertainment Weekly?



And, oh heavens above, Seymour and Iz are back. I did miss them dreadfully. Seymour even brought me a cool blown glass necklace!

Cool Blown Glass Necklace From Seymour

Almost to bed. I am still on indefinite loop, myself, but will leave you with these two thoughts:

1) If you were to look in my office closet, could you guess what is in the box labeled "Westernmost Products of the Velvet Divorce"?

2) I was born in 1969. Gone With the Wind hit the big screen in 1939. Star Wars will have the same amount of classical distance to kids born this year.

8.11.2007

Hmm.

Hmm.

It is summer; I have a house with a pool, trampoline, view, and a fucking KITTEN, for the love of Pete, but even so I can't find anyone to come visit and save me and my children from myself on this, our last day without Seymour, Iz, or any Leelo help. Guess it's time for cat photos and videos. Or for me to either take a bath or stop whining.

I'm in Yr Province...
Wanted: LOLcatz titlez.
Jo:
We haz big map, im in Canada
Jo: We haz big map, I poopoo in the Pacific


Do videos get titles, too?

Why We Moved

Why We Moved

Check out the world's most serenely happy little boy:



Watching him be so completely at ease with his environment and his body is worth everything we did to get here.

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8.10.2007

Leelo: More Potty Talk!

Leelo: More Potty Talk!

From yesterday's daily record spreadsheet.

Kept trying to get me out of bed from 4:30 to 6:00 AM. Finally came up to me with two [least-creative and therefore really irritating Dr. Seuss] books and said "I want you to read books, Mommy." [The clever little man knows I can't resist such requests from him.]

Pretty good behavior in terms of aggression. Very loopy and manically giggly all day, probably due to lack or sleep and/or cheesy puffs overconsumption.

Two poops in pullups during the night (1 AM, 4:30 AM). Underwear all day. Going every 45 minutes. No accidents. Trying to keep him on the potty for 15 - 30 minutes each time (cheesy puffs, reading books, YouTube). The latter two are preferable as he keeps getting off the pot to tap me and ask for the cheesy puffs. Went poop around 7:00 in the potty with no crouching beforehand (for Babysitter R). No wee hours poops. Yay Leelo!

Dr.M says he has a congestion headache and we should put him on a decongestant for three days. If that doesn't work we may need to up his Claritin. Also his ears have fluid in them but they are not infected.

8.09.2007

Becoming Jane

As I have mentioned too many times before, I've had a stressful stretch what with the moving and the tandem potty training and my autistic son frequently mistaking me for a punching bag. At the moment, even things that would usually make me happy just make me grumpy: the latest Harry Potter movie and book twin treats left me more irritated than sated.

But you know what always makes my heart grow three sizes? A nice dose of righteous indignation. And the new fictionalized Jane Austen biopic, Becoming Jane, has oh-so-many sweet jolts of it. The opportunities for genteel outrage shouldn't surprise any Austen fan -- we are smart romantics with feminist underpinnings, after all, and Austen wrote primarily about the friction between those people who get us, and those people who definitely do not. But it was lovely to be able to experience new Austen-generated irate pleasures without having to sit through yet another filmed version of her novels.

Oh, the carefully worded slights to our smart, kind Jane! Oh, her sharply courteous retorts! No one in her world understands her, except her father and the man she can't have! It's soooooo unfaaaair! And so utterly enjoyable.

Another salve for my bitter, oozing little soul is a well-made period piece, especially one that takes place within the familiar framework of Austenland. Becoming Jane has the costumes, the witty dialogue, the stately homes, the lush country scenery. Though there were a few behaviors that would have been out of place in an Austen story -- such as how Jane's father attempts to disprove her mother's statement that he is nowhere close to perfection -- they felt right for a story about "real" people, Regency-era or contemporary. I sank into the movie, I connected with the characters, I suspended my disbelief, and reached that that Nirvana-like state so craved by overstressed parents: Pure Escapism.

I also got a vicarious thrill from the mad, passionate, doomed romance of Jane and her Mr. Lefroy. I am someone who almost fell in with a Wickham but had the good luck (and the hunting instincts) to end up with a Darcy, and I dearly remember the heady adrenaline rush of my romances in their earliest days. Silly, reckless, young lovers drowning in each other's everything; how I envy them. How I appreciate a movie that can portray them well, and empathetically, without getting soggy.

My only caveat would be that Anne Hathaway's startling beauty distracts from a movie in which the sets, actors, and staging are mostly naturalistic. I am guessing that, as with the filmed version of My Fair Lady, Becoming Jane's producers wanted a bankable star. But Audrey Hepburn blended into her movie's glitzy styling, costuming, and set design; she became Eliza Doolittle, whereas Ms. Hathaway is far glossier than anything else in her film. In her well-made, enjoyable film that should please anyone who has ever wanted more Austen than the author's scant six novels provide.

For more MotherTalk reviews on Becoming Jane, visit www.mother-talk.com.

Grumpy, But.

Grumpy, But.

I think it is okay to be really sad when your husband is away for a week and your autistic son is potty training so you can't ever take your eyes off him lest he takes off all his clothes and shits on the rug or your bed and he finds the whole process so frustrating that he gets very aggro and violent and on top of it all fully six of his weekly therapy sessions get cancelled and also the person who normally helps with him in the afternoon a few times per week will not be doing so for three weeks. And it's not like I want to go off and get my hair fixed or read a book or go anywhere fun. All I want is enough time to get my shit together, post-move, so that the nice people who take away our garbage don't have to call me and remind me to pay them, so that I can reply to all the really kind comments people have left and the 254 emails I've not yet answered, so that I can find the piece of paper that Iz's new teachers sent home with her in June to tell her what to do all summer to prepare for fourth grade which begins August 27th, and to bring my stress level down to a point where my left eye doesn't twitch so much.

Also it turns out Supervisor M wants Leelo to go to a school across a bridge, and that she was not excited about me wanting to put him in a county class that I hadn't yet seen even though DoubleTrouble and mb had good things to say about it and they're super picky. She has a point; she has given me very clear criteria for what Leelo needs in a classroom and I didn't ask any questions about how the County folks take data on IEP compliance, how they comply with behavioral plans, how they measure the kids' progress, etc. I am really feeling like a giant fuckup about Leelo's Fall placement. I also just realized that the school district never provided him with speech or OT over the summer -- and only because another friend sent out an email stating that the same thing happened to her kids, meaning that the district is out of compliance with their IEP (and, so, Leelo's too). I are Special Needs Mother of the Year, I'm telling you.

At least I got to talk to Iz and Seymour today. Iz's dinner tonight was fish & chips featuring a rock cod she caught, she's got a natural knack for Monopoly and is kicking everyone's ass, and she and her dad keep getting to go on hikes where they find secret lakes up in the mountains (with ten different kinds of rainbow-colored fungus) and no one else is ever around. Seymour got all his work crap taken care of before he left Seattle and so is able to enjoy his boating week. When I figured out that Leelo wanted me to scat with him this morning, he came up and gave me a snuggly hug and put his head on my shoulder. And Mali is a cute bug who keeps cupping my face in her hands so she can give me big wet smackers. And I did have babysitting tonight, and got to see a lovely movie (Becoming Jane). So, rah, not everything in my life begets stress.

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8.08.2007

Leelo: Yesterday's Potty Progress

Leelo: Yesterday's Potty Progress

From his daily record spreadsheet:

Underwear all day. Pooped after I put him to bed (around 1 - 2 AM) in pullup. After 30 minutes of sitting on potty, being read to, and watching videos, he pooped in the potty BY HIMSELF without being in any kind of crouching position first. FIRST TIME EVER! Pooped in potty again later on after I caught him crouching and put him on the pot. He had no pee accidents for me, but two for Therapist L.

Some intense aggression when I had to remove him from a preferred activity to go to the toilet [i.e., he hit me in the nose/sinus so hard that I saw stars.]. Also told Therapist L that his ear hurt, and was seeking a lot of pressure on his forehead and nasal sinuses. I am taking him to Dr. M tomorrow to ask about his allergy symptoms [i.e., ask if Claritin is still effective after this many months, whether we should try another allergy med, and possibly for an MRI because he seems to have constant headaches and he can't tell me what he's feeling].
Meanwhile, Mali just came up to me as I was typing this. She smelled like an open sewer. When I asked what was in her pullup, she looked me straight in the eye, shrugged, and said, "Nuffing!"

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8.07.2007

Another Bedhead Morning

Another Bedhead Morning



They're getting better every day. Iz got a huge hunk of her hair trimmed off after this shot was taken; I didn't get a photo but will do so when she gets back from her vacation.

Jump in the Stream of My Consciousness. Watch Out for the Poo.

Jump in the Stream of My Consciousness. Watch Out for the Poo.

Those darling buds of mine are finally asleep. If they do this staying up past 10 PM thing one more day I will put them on someone's doorstep in a box. (But will of course watch from around the corner to make certain that they are actually taken in and loved and didn't run down the street or into traffic.)

I am very cheered by the thought that, no matter what happy or horrible things are happening here on the homefront, Seymour and Iz are off in the wilds of Queen Charlotte Strait and the Broughton Islands, having a fantastic time. Seymour had a minor work quirk that prevented him from boarding his plane in Relaxed Vacation Mode; I hope he managed to find a solution before he left communications range. He did call me after they arrived boatside to let me know that he had already negotiated a decimation of nautical TV time, so perhaps Iz will come home raving more about the things she saw and the things she did than about who won America's Got Talent.

It was our twelfth wedding anniversary yesterday. Happy cool dozen, my love.

Mali became the world's cutest fucking Montessori preschooler today. Witness:

Miss Mali Montessori
(Togs by Plumtickled)

I thought Teacher Anarchy would take to her and declare her Perfect and Darling, as does every other person who encounters her, but no. Our Mali spent the last nine months being a free-range chicken at Iron Gate, and did not appreciate being put in a preschool pen. She did not want to sit on anyone's potty, she did not want to sit still for anything, she did not like being told what to do. She will figure it out, though, once she sees that everyone gets to do whatever they like as long as they follow the rules for doing so. She is unlike her siblings in that she is an environmental learner; she actually notices what other people are doing and follows suit. Witnessing the same daily conga line of other kids going potty, doing "jobs," and sitting for circle time should be enticement enough.

Right now her imitation is mostly centered on copying the bratty brat brat behavior of her older sister. Mali is getting snatchy and rude, demanding, "Hey, those are MY french fries!" instead of her previous "Mommy, can I have some french fries please?," and smirking knowingly when she takes something that doesn't belong to her. But she is still polite when prompted, so I will hope that this phase is tied to her current language and conceptual developmental leaps. Even one week ago, she would not have declared, "I am missing my Daddy" and then known that it was naughty to answer "No" when asked if she missed her big sister, too. Nor would she have responded to my sing-song "Mommy nee-eeds co-ooffee" by piping up from the back seat "..and Mali ne-eeds a made-line"

Still absolutely uninterested in placing anything in the potty, though. Always wants to sit on it, can now recite all the potty books by heart, enjoys discussing the matter at length, but could truly care less about the act. Which means, to me, that she's not ready. Which is certainly FINE, seeing as Leelo is needing almost all of my potty energy these days.

He really is doing well, so very well. Two days ago he had no accidents at all, and waited to poop until he got his pullup on after his bath.

Yesterday he pooped while being a naked swimming boy (his too-big trunks fell off) in the pool with friends. Which was awesome for two reasons: 1) I dragged him into the house and he did a huge big poop in the potty! and 2) Mask-wearing Merlin was actually underwater looking in Leelo's direction when it happened, and he had the very best Caddyshack-level "Doody!" reaction I've ever seen. Hopefully Merlin wasn't traumatized.

Later on yesterday Leelo had a poop accident, but it was my fault as I'd taken my eyes off of him for five minutes even though he'd been doing his sneaky butt-in-the-air in the corner "I'm pooping" position just a few minutes beforehand.

Today he pooped four times. The first time I caught him as he was positioning himself, ran him to the potty, and he pooped in the potty all by himself! FIRST TIME EVER! The second time he had already started but finished in the toilet. The last two times were full-bore accidents. I had no idea he was going to go again, and again, as he normally only poops once or twice per day. But I should have been more watchful; he really doesn't seem to be outputting as much as he is inputting, and it had to come out eventually. Plus I am making sure he gets cod liver oil every damn day, and I'm using cheesy puffs (Pirate Booty) to encourage him to poop, drink his rice milk/vitamins, and take his cod liver oil, and all that tends to grease the chute. I don't think he's quite emptied himself; his tummy still looks quite distended. It looks uncomfortable and is possibly another reason for his awful recent behavior. However I am not encouraging him to push unless he has started trying himself; no need to add hemorrhoids to the mix.

Other good potty indicators: a couple of times he has started walking down the hall towards the potty by himself, he has asked to go "poo-poo for cheesy puffs," and tonight while I was driving him and Mali all over The Peninsula to try to force them to sleep, he called from the back seat, "Push, Mommy!" So I pulled off at the next Burger King and he went to the potty again. No poo production, but still. Wow. (And that Burger King stop is the reason for all the French Fry language above. Though Leelo didn't actually want any.)

Good happy Leelo things today: We had a lot of fun on the trampoline. He is sweet and kind, mostly, in letting his baby sister wrestle with him, and they even get each other to laugh both while playing on the trampoline, and while splashing in the bath, which is wonderful (even though he also smacked her once he'd had enough). He had me play him lots of music on the piano, which is interesting because I can only figure out melodies one key at a time, in C or G, and he kept insisting that I play each tune (Good Night Ladies/Leelo; Totoro Theme; Schubert's Trout) with both hands, one octave apart, ack. Also he still loves the Increasingly Complex Musical Vocalizations game, in which he scats and I have to imitate until I can't keep up. Today's scat words were "garlic" and "onion."

(BTW, I am currently finding both Schubert's Trout and Chopin's Prelude marvelously calming -- even the Beethoven's Wig versions.)

I just realized that we have been in this new house eight weeks. Eight weeks during which my kids have mostly refused to sleep except when I do, during which I've taken three trips (one long, two short), the kids' schedules have been constantly shifting craziness, and Seymour has been working the wacky hours. Why I thought I should have this place already put in perfect shape, who knows.

Another piece of house-happiness felt into place yesterday with a nice satisfying clink, when Ep's Clyde swapped out our dishwashers. (One more example of why it's nice to sell your house to friends. Another is that when Clyde found some sub-dishwasher puzzle and game pieces which, unbeknownst to him, had still been causing me the occasional OCD eye twitch, he brought them over instead of throwing them into the trash and both Leelo and I got to do happy dances.) The swap happened because our house came with the same model of dishwasher Ep and Clyde abandoned when they sold their house. Basically, when we moved into our new homes, they inherited my much-adored new dishwasher, and I inherited a doppelganger of their own beloved. And neither of us were happy.

Knives: A Dishwasher Effectiveness Comparison
Good dishwasher work on left, evil dishwasher work on right.

Dishwasher dissatisfaction may seem minor, and as lame as blogging about a disappointing manicure. (And that is SO an "I bet she won't read this.") But when I am mainlining stress, any extra strain -- such as having to wash the five thousand knives we use each day to make Leelo's PB&J sandwiches even though they've already been through the wash cycle of a super-sniffy extra-fancy dishwasher -- forces the stress to arc out of my eyes and into the nearest light fixture. Fun, but not pretty, to watch. I am so happy to have my good old workhorse back. It is still in fighting shape; it has already easily plowed through the Dried Cheese Sauce on Plate and Peanut Butter on Knife challenges.

And, hey, I finally got 'hold of the County Education director! They have a place for Leelo, in a school that both mb and DoubleTrouble think could be acceptable. It's a segregated (Leelo and friends only) rather than an integrated site, but frankly given Leelo's recent behavior, I'm not sure I want him around kids whose parents don't want him around. Now I just need to get my Deadwood school district contact/facilitator to call me back right now so that we can make it happen A.S.A.P., and so I can let the ALSO folks know not to hold our spot. Assuming the school district approves County over ALSO. The schedule and location are rather unfortunate, but I talked to a friend today who assured me that her child not only tolerates but loves taking the bus. Hmmmm.

It is such a blessing to have friends come over who are comfortable around me and my kids. Jo, Ep, and Clyde kept me company yesterday. The wonderful Liz Ditz was over today, and was totally unfazed by Leelo's giving her three or four big shoves ("Lady, I work with horses and big dogs. This is nothing."), or by the evening's poopfest. Jennyalice, DoubleTrouble, and bunch of the hot mamas and their broods are coming over tomorrow. I miss Seymour and Iz, but am finding that I can weather their absence quite well if I have enough company.

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8.06.2007

Broadsheet Blows a Gasket, Cephalopods Cheer

Broadsheet Blows a Gasket, Cephalopods Cheer

Broadsheet's Rebecca Traister usually keeps her indignation carefully calibrated. Thankfully, today she let out some roman candle-style rage -- and it was wonderfully cathartic for both her and me. Even though the article she reamed was about overprivileged women with three or more kids opting to stay home because it is the cool thing to do.

I Ask You...

I Ask You...

What kind of fucking kids play on a trampoline for two afternoon hours straight and then when you get them bathed and in their jammies and put them in a car and drive from Deadwood to SF, from 8:45 PM to 10:15, assuming that of course they will fall asleep, DO NOT DO SO? Arrrgh!