My Starfleet Cadets can phaser-stun your Honor Students.

THREE!!

how can that be…?

The thing he wanted most when he turned three and got all grown-up was a set of wheels. Presumably so he could make a nimble escape the next time his smothering mother came toward him with her arms wide, lamenting “How did you get to be three? Why don’t you want to hug me anymore? Come back! Stop growing!” *scooter, scooter, scooter*

Behold, his wheels.

For my birthday (on which I will turn 29… again) I will also be asking for a scooter. That way I can follow him as he tries to get away from my love. It’s going to have to have a killer set of wheels on it, because college time is just around the corner… and I may be scootering after him to an out of state school. Wait! Come back! Hug your mother!

Each morning they go out and collect the berries and peppers that have ripened overnight. I’ve already done my first batch of raspberry jam. The sunflowers now tower over Deaky. The tomatoes are still green, but they’re there in big numbers. The pumpkin vines are going nuts, and frankly I’m not sure where they plan to blaze their trails… the corner of our yard is only so big.

Looking out my window and seeing little suburban farmers in pajamas and flip flops… it’s a good way to start the day.

* Zoe and her BFF were walking down the sidewalk yesterday when a couple of idiot teenage boys in a Jeep drove by and threw a firecracker, hitting BFF in the face. I got in my car, chased them down, cornered them in a cul de sac, and gave them what to for. The mama bear in me came out in full force. (I almost just said “mama cougar”, but that’s not exactly accurate.)

* Our nice neighbors hosted an awesome illegal fireworks display last night. With food. In the rain. Today I have the sniffles.

* My children have been staying up until unholy hours, almost every night. But there is almost always giggling and animated talking and secret conspiring. I encourage sibling getting-alongness at any hour in the day, so I let these late nights fly.

* I think my 12 year old son is actually addicted to video games.

* I think six of the neighbor kids are, too.

* When not playing video games (read: when I hide them), Jachin has discovered the fun of setting things on fire. Fireworks, army men, Pokemon cards, hordes of ants, homemade torches.

* I’ve made a mental note to contact our insurance agent to check the fire coverage on our homeowner’s policy.

* The plants in my garden are not only growing, they are (mostly) thriving. This makes me happy beyond reason. Sometimes I just go stand and stare at my garden while doing Mr. Burns fingers and breathing “Excellent”. The neighbor kids think this is nutty behavior. I shoo them away with my roto-tiller.

* That last sentence was a joke. I only own a roto-tiller in my dreams.

* I have started approximately 12 writing projects in the last couple of months, and have completed zero of them. The most offensive of all of these: my completely written novel that I CAN NOT make myself sit down and revise. I suck at rewrites — they are hard and not fun.

* Jon has been in the hospital again. After several months of relative normalcy, he’s hit another snag. Same issues. Same MO. I don’t know what else to say about this, other than it sucks. So, so, so sucks. I can’t discuss it anymore.

* I have discovered that I love reruns of the show Supernatural. Why did I never watch this show before? It’s the bee’s frickin knees! Demons! Cute boys! Fighting! Shooting! Pacts with the devil! Seriously, what is this show missing? Um, the correct answer is nothing.

* Jachin has taken up the clarinet, which has made it sound like we have recently acquired a goose. But sadly, we are goose-less. And now have to regularly buy reeds, which are not cheap.

* Zoe has made money hand over fist this summer. Lemonade stands, kiddie camps… She is looking into buying some property in Costa Rica. Or maybe a Jeep… so she can drive around and throw firecrackers at idiot teenage boys.

I leave you with a picture of a green ukulele playing toddler.

You’re welcome.

(yes, that’s Supernatural on the TV)

A man’s work is never finished.

…this particular film being boys beating each other up to Justin Bieber songs.

(in case you didn’t catch it, the first kid is supposed to be Justin Bieber, and the second kid is supposed to be Justin’s ex-girlfriend.)

(my son is behind the camera… I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.)

… is the face that is stoking the fire that is my midlife crisis. It’s the face that used to belong to a baby, but now belongs to a chatty toddler who yells “no way, suckers!” in response to everything I ask him to do. It’s the face that belongs to a child who used to need help with everything, and now wants help with nothing. (Nothing! Step the hell back, mom! ) It’s the face that used to get stuck in the neck-hole of onsies, but now gets stuck in the neck-hole (or, sometimes, arm-hole) of the t-shirt he has selected for himself…

It’s the face of time pulling away from me… shoved into a stranger’s car and barreling away as I chase after. Yes, it sometimes induces that kind of panic. It’s the face that has shown me meaning behind the phrase “enjoy it while it lasts”. It’s the face that makes me teary, knowing that he may very well be my last little face… his growing, changing face and maturing nature signalling the end of an era for me. An era I’m trying desperately to cling to even as it runs through my fingers like sand.

You see this face? I take pictures of it a lot. Because that’s the only thing I can do.

I think I need knee surgery now.

I know I brag a lot about my yoga prowess, but this game throat punches me.

Also, Zoe decided to “wait… time out… take a break” in the middle of it.

Yeah, no problem, take your time… I can stay like this all night.

Older brother is playing the Wii on one.
Sister is watching Lemonade Mouth (for the tenth time) on another.
Dad is sleeping watching the game on another.

So when the two-year-old wants to watch Dinosaur Train, and all the TVs in the house are being used by other/older people, the two-year-old is relegated to watching his show on Netflix on an iPhone.

It’s exhausting, having to hold up the three ounce screen yourself. It makes one’s arm tired.

(Remember when you were a kid and there was one TV in the house? And it had a dial with 13 channels on it? And four of the channels were blizzard white out? Yeah… we were practically pioneers.)