July 30, 2008

Bring It On

The annual Foosball tournament is Bill’s pet project, and he applies the same concentration and diligence to creating the teams and brackets as he does in crafting a legal brief.

None of the moms play foosball on a regular basis during the year, what with raising children and all, and the kids who are saddled with a mother as a teammate struggle to hide their disappointment.

I was paired with Kimberly’s husband.  I was counting on his innate athleticism (he runs and plays tennis) to at least get us through the first round.  Finn and Drew were having none of it, though, and beat us before I was completely sure the game had started.  Maybe I should have worn my reading glasses to better track that tiny ball.

Although her husband’s tennis skills weren’t helpful, Kimberly is even better and plays at level AA1.  I don’t understand the ranking system, but in practical terms this means she must play with the tennis pro or someone who was on the tour in order to find decent competition.  And she’s all about competition.

I’m thinking it was her insane competitive drive that carried her and the Voice of Reason’s son through to the finals against Finn and Drew.  It was a ball-buster, and Drew was visibly nervous that he would let Finn down.

It was best 2 out of 3, and after the first game Finn and Drew did a few exercises to keep their wrists supple.

Finn was encouraging to Drew and put on a fabulous big brother act: “Way to save the goal, Drew.  Good defense.  Dude, that point was all you.”

It was sweet to watch, but his act was diluted when Finn them turned around and kicked Porter in the shins, saying, “Quit crowding me!  You’re always in my way!”  When I counseled him on his attitude toward Porter, he said, “I’ll be his brother, but I won’t be his friend if he keeps acting like such a baby all the time.”  He has a point.  Porter is socially immature, but the solution is not a kick in the scrotum, as far as I’ve read.

Finn and Drew emerged victorious and pleased with themselves, and there was much high-fiving throughout the house.

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This morning the boys were headed to the beach.

“Have you buttered the boys?” I asked Bill, who was loading his backpack with his newly purchased kite, another of his favorite beach activities.  He really should have been a camp counselor.

“No, but if it’s eating you, butter them yourself,” he said.

“It’s not eating at me,” I said, and I let them go.

Our Memphis friend shook his head at the whole exchange.  “I know a bunch of Yankees who’d need some serious translation for that.”

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I’m traveling with people, including my husband, who “don’t get” blogs.  Bill insists I’m living in Second Life, although where he picked up that term I don’t know.  He also says that writing on a blog is like putting earrings on a pig.  You can call it what you want, but it’s not “real” writing, he says.  He’s no different from Richard Schickel in this regard.

They’re both wrong, of course.  Why should the quality of the writing be based on whether it’s published in print or on the internet?

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A look back in My Tiny Kingdom: Schickel Insults Blogs; Melee Ensues

July 29, 2008

Out Of Reach At The Beach

I’m in a house at the beach with double the number of penises I usually live with.  This year we’re sharing a house with our friends from Memphis, who also have three boys.  One is Finn’s age and the others are four and eighteen months– precious reminders of those ages which seem so far away with my own guys.  The other two families we vacation with are just across the street.  It’s our own beach kibbutz.

Last year the mothers (we were all college roommates) were afraid that the oldest kids, two boys and two girls, might stop being friendly and start being romantic.  We were lucky then, and  this year, although the hormones have definitely increased, the twelves are primarily concerned with protecting the whereabouts of their secret hiding place, reachable only by bike.  “Let’s go play cards” is code for an imminent meeting, and so far even Drew, determined teen-wannabe, hasn’t cracked it.

This is the eleventh year we’ve taken this trip, and having the two littlest boys reminds us of how far we’ve come.  Was Drew really just eighteen months old the year he got stitches in his lip from a shady Doc O’ The Beach?  He seemed so OLD.  Remember the year we started bringing bikes without training wheels?    How long have I been making this delicious bean dip we eat every evening while the adults drink and play dice games?

Traditionally we go to the beach in the morning.  Porter skimboards,

the majority of the children dig and make castles,

and a few holdouts stick close to the grownups waiting for the goldfish and pretzels to come out.

Goldfish served on a plastic tennis paddle

Some members of our group have amused themselves by sitting on the beach and watching the people who walk by, then determining whether they are wearing proper beachwear.  Should that lady’s cleavage be more covered?  Is a Speedo ever appropriate outside the Olympics?  (No- our husbands deserve to see some buxomness without having to buy a magazine for that particular purpose.  Yes- it is also permissible to wear a Speedo at the Olympic trials, but these are not typically held at the beach.)

Finn and I have taken a couple of walks and determined that this year’s popular beach read is The Shack, a book that I was too snobby to order when Bill asked me to because the reviews castigated its poor writing.  Other reviewers have called it the greatest “guy meets God” book EVER and the beach readers appear entertained.

After so many years we’re used to each other’s idiosyncrasy’s. For example, Kimberly refuses to buy any food that contains calories.  Also, she loves the beach, except for the sand.  We’ve spent many years bribing children to spill sand on her pristine feet so that we can watch her freak out and them carefully de-sand herself with the Diet Dr. Pepper can of water she keeps handy just for this purpose.

I’m still practicing with my camera, and Me Ra Koh is my new hero.  At BlogHer she was able to make concepts I’ve read about and struggled to understand seem easy-peasy.  I’ve picked a different tip to work on each day, and I’ve filled the frame, learned to blur the background, experimented with higher and lower ISO to increase color saturation and get shots in a dimmer setting. The pictures of Drew digging and this one and the one above of Porter skim boarding were taken at a lower ISO and should have more color saturation.

I took these below of Porter on the Auto setting and they should have less saturation, although it’s hard for me to tell after a couple of glasses of wine:

Some things don’t change, whether you’re home or away. We came home from an adult evening out last night. All three of my boys had put themselves to sleep, as instructed, although Porter put his special twist on it.

Goodnight, Finn.

Goodnight, Drew.

Well, maybe not exactly as instructed. Porter is buried under those pillows, and plans to sleep in this fort for the rest of the week.

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July 28, 2008

Wiki Wiki What?

Last night at dinner Bill asked Drew to lead the blessing.

“Wiki wiki what, wiki who, wiki how?” Drew said.

Bill and I looked at each other, confused, and Bill assigned Finn the task.

Finn chose to teach us a blessing he’d learned at church camp.  It was to the tune of “We Will Rock You” and we banged on our chairs and clapped BANG BANG CLAP, BANG BANG CLAP, while Finn chanted the words:

We will, we will, praise you

We will, we will, praise you

There’s food on our plate

It sure looks great

Gotta learn how to love and forget how to hate

We will, we will, praise you

He ran through it once and then all five of us gave it a go.  It was an immediate disaster.

“Wiki wiki what?” Drew asked.  “I didn’t get it.”

“Someone is rushing the beat,” Finn said.

I poked Bill.  “He means you.  You’re ahead of the beat.  We’re going to have to buy a metronome so you’ll be able to participate in the blessing.”

“I really love metronomes,” Porter said.  “Especially when you take them apart and make other stuff out of them.”

“What do you mean, ‘rushing the beat?’” Bill asked.

“Wiki wiki what?” Drew asked.  “I do not comprehend,” he said in a robot voice.

“What’s up with the ‘wiki wiki’ stuff?” I asked.

“He’s all jacked up on Mountain Dew,” Finn said.  “He bought one and drank the whole thing at Jazzercise this morning and hasn’t made much sense all day.  I vote we put him on Mountain Dew rehab.”

“Wiki wiki who?” Drew asked, alarmed this time.

The vote was passed, and we ate, since our food had been blessed long ago and was growing cold.

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I’ve been practicing Me Ra Koh’s Top Ten Tips For Photography, concentrating on #2: Fill the frame and #4: blur the background.  Here are my results so far:

Fill the frame with Porter:

Blur Drew’s background:

(This one was difficult- the background blurred beautifully but I shot him at an angle that made him have bags under his eyes. Alternatively, he may have bags under his eyes– he never stops long enough for me to get a good look at him. And the blue cast on his lips is reality. He’d just finished eating some turquoise food which cannot have been nourishing.)

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One year ago in My Tiny Kingdom: Freak Show- Boys Who Read

July 25, 2008

There’s This Book, And I’m in It…

I know you’re feeling warm and fuzzy inside.  Part of that (the warm) is because it’s summer, and I can’t explain the fuzzy.  Maybe you drank too much, or you french-kissed your cat.

At any rate, put those “Yes We Can!” feelings to good use.  Sunday (what’s that, the 29th?) we’re all going to buy a copy of this book from Amazon:The Mothering Heights Manual for Motherhood

The Mothering Heights Manual for Motherhood Volume 1

One of the special things about this book is that I have a story in it.  The first essay in fact!  The editor said that doesn’t mean anything, but I don’t believe that for a minute.  You wouldn’t start a book off with a sucky essay, would you?  You would not.

Anyway, when everyone buys the same book on the same day magic happens: the book climbs up the mysterious Amazon algorithm and becomes popular.  We all love to be popular.

You know what this book is good for?  It’s a great present to give expectant mothers at their baby showers.  The Manual of Motherhood plus a pack of Pampers and you’re golden.

If you know a couple who’s thinking about having children and you feel strongly that they should not procreate, you could buy this for them also.  The book contains true, scary stories that serve as powerful birth control.  (If said couple needs more persuasion, refer them to this blog, or my babysitters.)

This is the first book that I’ve been published in, and Lordy, I hope it isn’t the last.

One thing I learned, though, is that editors sometimes mess with your writing before they publish it.  For instance, my concluding paragraph was pure genius, and mentioned both Led Zeppelin and parakeets.  The editors liked the paragraph before it better, and chopped it.

So if you buy the book, email me and I’ll send you the ORIGINAL concluding paragraph absolutely free.

Now you and your cat can get back to whatever.

Y’all: Thanks for letting me know that the original link disappeared from my post! I tried again!

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Random past post from My Tiny Kingdom: We Talked Too Much

July 24, 2008

Tolerant Mom Alert! Boys Do Science Projects At Home

We’ve done plenty of scientific investigations around the Glamore house, including one with marbles and magnets and another involving bagels and ice.  Anything can be the subject of experimentation.

To encourage your kids to do a science experiment, tell them to get their butts off the couch and go outside because if they watch any more TV their brains will rot.  Ignore them when they say that seeing rotten brains would be friggin’ cool.

Do your thing, pausing every once in a while to sniff for fire and listen for birds on the loose.  (Feathers has been flying a lot more lately.  Am I supposed to get her wings clipped, I wonder?)  If you hear sirens, haul ass upstairs asap.  Whew.  Must be an emergency at someone else’s house this time.

Just before you cook dinner, see what your boys have done.

“Mom, look what we did with the tomatoes we planted,” Porter said.  It was Porter’s idea to plant tomatoes and peppers.  I was too lazy to buy one of those wire cone things you put around the plants to support them as they grow. I was certain Porter would kill them before the tomatoes ever got to that point.  I was wrong.

Hey- look at the Contraption That Formerly Served As A Wooden Wine Rack That Has Been Rigged With Yarn And Turned Into A Tomato Supporter.  I invented that.  The wine disappears so fast that we weren’t using the rack for its intended purpose anyway.

“I can’t wait to see what y’all have done,” I said with fake enthusiasm.   We got diverted by this caterpillar which Drew wanted me to fry and serve for dinner.  I told him it was too small for five people and when he found a decent sized snake to let me know.

Those are some precious green tomatoes, aren’t they? Drew and Porter didn’t view them as cute fruit. They decided to cut a couple and see how quickly they would decay. They pierced one with some wire and hung it from the patio table where it would be pelted with the searing rays of the Alabama sun.

They rummaged around under the house and found a heavy-duty lamp a workman left behind. They put the other tomato directly under the lamp and plugged it in.

They poked each tomato with needles they’d rounded up from the closet, just for the hell of it.  Then they sat back and waited for the maggots to descend.

“I think the sun will decay the tomatoes faster because we eat sundried tomatoes and that’s why they named them that,” Porter theorized.

“If it works we can have a lemonade stand and also sell sundried tomatoes and we can buy a Wii with the money we make,” Drew said.

Bill and I had to drag them inside for dinner. It was my fault for making sure they got their nourishment for the day; we all missed what had to be an electrifying sizzle.

The winner:

There’s no market for lamp-charred tomatoes yet, but I’m working on recipes now.

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Three years ago in My Tiny Kingdom: Isn’t Summer Over Yet?