He'll Also Act Like He Doesn't Know You

After making his acting debut as a drunk in The Tempest earlier this summer, Evan is doing yet another Shakespeare production. He's playing Dogberry in Ypsilanti Youth Theater's production of Much Ado About Nothing. If he knows you as my friend he'll be glad to see you but probably play it like he's too cool to show it. Come on out, all are welcome.

Little Rainforest

I have three new additions to my family. They are little dart frogs, otherwise known as Dendrobates Tinctorius 'Surinam Cobalt' frogs, but for short you can just call them cute, cute and cute.
My frogs look exactly like this.
I was hooked up with these fine babies by one Donn Stroud, Master Vivarium Architect and Amphibian Aficionado. You could have a dart frog vivarium, too! I bet he'd make you one. He seems a little obsessed with it, actually. If you click on that link, don't be put off from commissioning a vivarium by how he's sticking his fingers in that guys mouth. In all my dealings with him, he didn't try that once with me.
Here, you see the tank but the critters are not out and about yet. I had a better picture with the frogs out but my kid had taken the memory card out of the camera.
Here is the tank that was skillfully crafted to recreate a glowing little rainforest. What's cool, too, is that this thing never has to be cleaned. That's reason alone for me to want my whole house to be made into a vivarium but I guess it doesn't quite work that way. The plants within are now just getting their roots down but they'll keep growing. Before long this glass box will be filled with lush flora and fungi in which the frogs can frolic. I just have to dose it with a mini rainforest-sized water misting every other day, and feed them fruitflies and everyone's happy.

The frogs have been here a couple days, and they seem to be settling in just fine. They like to explore their environment by day, and then hunker down under some leaves at night and I turn the lights out for them. I don't know if I have males or females, but if it's a co-ed bunch than they will do some occasional amorous buzzing as they get older.

I did have a couple neighbor boys tap on the glass and otherwise try to startle the frogs for their entertainment. But then I drop-kicked them back to their own houses so I think they're with the program now. All good!

The first day, Luka mused, "I wonder if they're happy in there?" I said, they probably wonder if we're happy out here. I wouldn't mind living in a vivarium. Just put in a swimming pool, a brewpub, a thrift store and a Mexican restaurant. I'd be all set.

Good Night, George Carlin

Breaking the Surface

The boys and I got back tonight from our trip to Mammoth Cave National Park in Kentucky. We had appointments to enter the earth's crust on Tuesday and Wednesday for some cave tours along with our friends that accompanied us, Robyn and her boys. We left Monday and stayed at a cabin in Cave City, right outside the park.

I felt ambitious and had signed us up for what was described as the difficult, three hour tour by lantern light for our first day. I figured that we could negotiate any steep hills the cave would present us, and if it really was difficult, that it would be good for us to push ourselves a little bit. It turned out to be fine, there were some steep hills at the end that had us huffing and puffing, but it was totally worth it. It was fascinating to see the remnants of saltpeter mining from the War of 1812, ancient moccasins left behind, and even a pile of 2,000 year old poop that we got to gawk at by flashlight.

Our cave guide was informative and funny, and we were lucky to be in a small group, about 15 of us. It was kind of freaky thinking about all the things that could go wrong so far from help. We were nearly without incident until Luka decided his shoe was gouging his foot so he had to bandaged up so he could keep walking. Actually, I let him go barefoot until we were busted by the second ranger but then he was fine after he got the national park band aid on his foot. I also found it comforting to have this big guy with a Kentucky accent drawling, "you'll be okay, son".

The second tour we took was the New Entrance tour, which was shorter, easier, lit up with electricity, and led by a ranger that was just as affable as the first. The fun part of this one was going down, down, down through the twisting, narrow stairs through the dripping formations to the bottom. It had a gothic, eerie feeling about it. At the end of the tour was the part of the cave that's called the Frozen Niagara because the stalagmites and stalactites look like a frozen waterfall.

The other adventure we went on occurred on Tuesday, our first full day in Kentucky and after our first tour. We ate lunch at the Mammoth Cave Hotel and then piled into the van to go to the Kentucky Action Park. As soon as I sat down to leave, Luka let out a piercing scream from the back and the kids were all saying his eye was bloody. I feared the absolute worst as he took his hands off his face, but his eye was intact, only a bloody gouge scraping directly under his eye. I was stunned to see him with blood running down his face and onto his sweatshirt. A metal sign holder had apparently been jiggled as he was buckling in, and the pointy end twanged right into his face.

Every step I'd taken for the previous three hours had been guided by a competent park ranger, where was my guide now? I had been let loose in the parking lot with nobody to give me helpful instruction or warn me about the next hazard around the corner. I was just staring at my bloody kid and trying to turn back time with mind but that didn't work.

I took him back into the visitor center. Nice people in khaki uniforms cleaned him up and recommended that I get him checked out at the hospital because it was so close to his eye. They gave me directions to the nearest hospital in Glasgow, and we all went.

We checked in, did the triage thing, did the registration thing. Then we waited, and waited and waited. People who had been waiting before us left without ever going in to be seen. I asked how much longer, the check-in lady said one more before us. Okay, we can handle that. Pretty soon I had Evan howling at me like I was personally responsible for making us wait that long. We were all antsy. So the check-in lady comes over and says, I'm sorry, there's actually four people ahead of you. And those with life-threatening conditions have priority. There was only one physician. She told me that people left every day because the wait was so long. I began feeling resentful towards the people that were inconveniencing me with their life threatening conditions.

I really wanted to leave but it kind of freaked me out, too. I wanted to get a really good look at the wound so I went into the bathroom and started wetting down toilet paper to try to wash it out. I began telephone discussions with my Medical Professional Friend who advised me to stay... then called to say that he'd seen the picture Evan had sent and thought he might be okay to leave under certain conditions.

We were there for four hours before we finally left without seeing a doctor, bought some topical antibiotic and went to do some Alpine Sliding with Luka still wearing his bloody shirt.

A four hour wait is not so unusual i suppose, for an ER waiting room. But, the more I think about it, the more I am fired up to file a grievance when they send me a bill for the nurse services. There was a warning posted at registration saying that if you leave before seeing the doctor that you will still be billed for the nursing services. But taking his blood pressure didn't help him. And if they already knew that the wait could be really long, which they did, the nurse should have given Luka some basic first aid, like clean his injury and give him and ice pack along with taking his blood pressure. How ridiculous that I was cleaning it in the bathroom with toilet paper.

I found out the next day back at the park that the Glasgow hospital had a pretty bad reputation. A park ranger I was talking to had heard about Luka's injury, and when I told her about our hospital experience she said that she was from California and that she had been in Kentucky for 12 years and still saw things that surprised her.

So there you go. Be careful in Kentucky! With such poor health care, perhaps it's good that we were in a dry county. I really could have used a drink after that day, though, y'all.

Another Shot

Got into nursing school at EMU again for fall, this time I'm going to do it right. The boys' dad is coming back to live in Ypsi this summer, hopefully it will make things easier. Going to vacation at Mammoth Caves, reserved a a three hour tour, a three hour tour. Looking forward to doing some tacky stuff in Cave City, like the Alpine Slide. Saw cowbirds in my yard. Saw Drew Barrymore walking around downtown Ypsi. Saw the Robert Plant~Alison Krauss show at the fabulously ostentatious Fox Theater. Learned that one is not supposed to wear brown with black. Got Blanche tickets for July. Getting a tricked out aquarium and I'm going to house some dart frogs in it. Don't like too many choices. Spent too much time on Etsy. Ate some dandelion jelly, it has a light herbal taste, made of the flowers not the leaves or root. Scored five goals in water polo, kept my arm in its socket. My girlie's patella is fixed, she's using all her legs now. Discovered Scout Niblett while shopping for dresses at Star Vintage.

My Little Pupa

It's hard to believe, but I am the mother of a teenager now. I guess it shouldn't be that hard to believe, because technically I could be a grandmother. But still, it only seemed like last week that he was a baby. I can still envision the startled look on his face after he was born, opened his eyes and looked around the bright world while still safely tethered to his placenta. But my boy turned 13 yesterday, May 19.

We celebrated in low-key fashion. His dad had sent him an M.C. Escher book, he got lots of money from family folk that he'll be able to spend a little of, but he'll have to save most of it. He picked going out to eat for dinner at Potbelly. He's going to have some other pupas over on Sunday and play Settlers of Catan and eat cake.
My pupa, in his natural habitat.

Luka and I gave him a chia pet ("new", found at the Salivation Army), a Swiss army knife that he has been instructed to keep away from school grounds, and a square, decorative rayon sarong/shawl-type item to replace another similar type accessory that was worn into oblivion. He had adopted it at one of my Naked Lady parties and I called it his blankie but he didn't like that, I was supposed to call it a cape. Whatever it is, I bought him another one because every well-equipped pupa needs a cocoon.

My little pupa exhibits peculiar behavior. He will eat preposterous amounts of food. He's recently started shooting withering looks my way, meant to convey how embarrassing my behavior is but I am immune because I know how cool I really am. He will sneer at the younger folk, but then put on his bathing suit and leap around in the sprinkler with them. With his shoes and socks on, which I don't understand but I choose my battles around here.

I am fortunate. I've heard of other pupas who scream "I HATE YOU!" to their alphas and go around slamming doors but he doesn't do any of that.

I also gave him a can of Spam, inspired by the Spam-like bricks on the Settlers of Catan resource cards. It reminded me of how I used to eat Spam at my Grandmere's house, but my kids had never had it. No great loss for them, I know, but I thought Evan would appreciate the World War II connection, as it was the food for American soldiers. It also seems appropriate and symbolic for a birthday gift, as opening a can of Spam is kind of like a birth when the can is opened and the form drops out, all covered in a gelatinous goo like vernix. We will ignore the eating it part of the metaphor.

I'm going to call my Grandmere later today and ask her how she prepared it. If I remember correctly, it seems like she chopped it up into a sandwich salad, with pickles and mayo and stuff. I've heard of frying it up, or doing something to it with ketchup. Feel free to post your family's favorite Spam recipe in the comments section.


Happy Birthday, Evan and to Malcolm X too!

Purge Fix

"It feels good," he says.

Oh my head!

I was slammed with an overwhelming feeling of overwhelmedness a couple days ago. I couldn't function... I looked at my disgusting mess of a house and couldn't bear to clean it again. I dreaded the daily arguing with my younger child. Arguing about turning off the television, arguing about getting up in the morning and moving fast enough to get to school on time. The endless dealing with bodily fluids. Two nights in a row he had meltdowns about his dad being gone, crying and asking me why he left and there's nothing I can say. One of those nights, I laid there with him while he was crying and told him about how my parents didn't raise me, that my mother didn't want kids and so my sister and I went and lived with Grandma Terry. I told him how after that, as kids we hardly saw or talked to my mom but we saw our dad on weekends. He never really heard that story before, and it distracted him from crying about his dad. He asked, why didn't my dad divorce my mom? Well, someone had to take care of her, she couldn't really take care of herself.

As usual, when he has a meltdown like that, it makes me feel completely, helplessly shredded because there's nothing I can do about it. Then I feel the anger of wanting to fucking throttle his dad, and it struck me the other night how incredibly unfair it is that some people just get to decide that they want to pass off their responsibilities to somebody else. My parents, then my kids' dad-parent. Leaving the responsible ones to be uber-super-responsible. And I wonder, how did I get myself in this situation? I thought I was smarter than that... but no I am not, I did this all to myself. I am stupid, stupid, stupid.

And now I'm completely responsible for these people that I brought into this world. I am responsible for their physical, emotional, mental, and intellectual well-being. I am not equipped for this and I cannot take the pressure. I can't do it, I want to start my life over, I want to run away but I can't, and I'm going to cry.

So the day after our talk, which was yesterday -- another day of non-functioning where I slept all day-- Luka told me on the way home from school that a lady at the school told him that if he gets upset about his dad, to tell his teacher and she'll let him come talk to her about it. I thought, great, our family has been red-flagged by the school social worker now. Although it was actually kind of a relief to think that somehow a professional was involved. So I questioned him. What did she ask you? What did you say about me? Hoping he didn't rat me out for something, like... I don't know, like using my cell phone at Wendy's compound to call our pre-teens on their cell phones to bring us beers in the yard.

Well I didn't get to hear the whole social worker story because he decided right there he had to pee, jumped out of the van the second I pulled in, and then proceeded to spray me with pee as he tried to go in the yard because he couldn't make it in the house.

This morning, I woke up and felt like I had a lava lamp operating in the top half of my face. I thought aha! sinuses! That's my problem, that's what's been fucking me up and making me non-functional! It makes sense. I decided it was time to try out a neti pot, so I bought one at the Ypsi Co-op.

I tried it this afternoon. It didn't take long to get the hang of it. The worst thing that happens is that if you don't have your face at the right angle, like if you're tipping your head too far back, then the salty water drips down the back of your throat. But if you tip forward a little, it's really weird. You can feel your sinuses filling, and then it drips out the other nostril. Cool! I was disappointed, though. I was hoping for really gross, green, nasty stuff to come out of my nose and make me feel really cleansed. It's the bulimic in me, looking for a purge fix. But it was all clear. I don't think I feel any better, but I can see how having a neti pot around to irrigate the sinuses every now and then can come in handy.

I tried to get Evan to do it, because he's been clogged up but he wouldn't. Luka did, though. He insisted on trying it and then he stood over the sink for a good three or four minutes and drained the entire pot. It reminded me a bit of when I gave him an enema not too long ago. That was some fun family fun as we bonded over some water and an orifice. He was waiting for me to get the enema ready, and when he saw that the enema bottle had an orange cap he said, "It's ORANGE! That means it's POISON!" And I said, "bwa hahaha!! That's right!! It's been nice knowing ya, but we've had enough of you now!" And we all had a good laugh as I emptied the bottle within. Family enema togetherness. Come to think of it, I'm glad he didn't share that with the social worker.

So I'm disappointed in the lack of neti pot grossness, but I was talking to Stephanie today and she told me about ear candling. I've heard of it, of course, but I've never tried it and she was telling me about some heavy duty grossness that she's seen with it. I think that may be the next thing on our family fun agenda, trying to get some grossness through ear candling. Woohoo! Anyone up for some ear candling with us?