What's left to eat?

XY11 spent the night at a friends house and they came to my house for breakfast. I was busy, (in other words awake) so I did the lazy mom homemade breakfast. Frozen whole grain waffles, fried eggs and cut fruit. I asked the child, we'll call him, ummm... Rickets, how many eggs he would like. "One," he replied. I was mildly surprised since XY11 would gladly put away a dozen fried eggs at one sitting, but okay. I then asked which fruit he would like. Cut up cantaloupe? Grapes? Plums, nectarines? No, nope, no thanks. I asked him what fruit he does like. None. Oh, then you must eat vegetables instead. No, nuh-uh, only corn and potatoes. Huh! And your mom lets you not eat fruits and vegetables? Yeah, she doesn't care. Wow! Not my place to judge, or make the kid feel like a freak, so I let it go. As the boys were finishing breakfast, I noticed "Rickets" poking the outer edges of the egg with his fork like one might poke a jellyfish that washed up on the shore. "Is it over cooked?" I asked. "No, I've never eaten an egg before, and I don't know how to." "You mean you've only eaten scrambled eggs?" "No, I've never eaten any eggs." My resolve to not make the kid feel like a freak was waning. I knew if asked more questions he would be self conscious. But, seriously! Oh my goodness! No fruit, no vegetables, no eggs. There's not much left. His entire diet must be comprised of either neon artificial colors, or goldeny-beige. Yikes. I am so grateful for my whole grain, fruit and vegetable eating children. I also don't feel as bad about the monthly Kool-aid purchase.

Writing for pay is very different than writing for me. Hopefully the stuff I am working on for my self, (novel) will pay me eventually, I mean the assignment writing. Speaking of writing, my amazing cousin got an offer on her book! It is a comical take on a parenting self-help book. I will keep you updated. Back to me. I am not being the greatest summer mother, but I am trying. The many hours XX5 spent playing video games yesterday indicates I might not be trying hard enough. I bought the recent Time magazine that focuses on childhood obesity. Guilt upon guilt!
XY17 has a girlfriend, pretty much for the first time. I really like her. She is very sweet, smart and cute. I am always pushing XX17 to have friends over. He spends more time at his friends homes then they spend here. I really just want kids over here so I can feed them. It's a sickness. I need help. I know.

Day three of Summer Vacation

I have committed to being a good mother this summer. Having a kid barely graduate provides ample motivation. On day one of Summer Vacation I took XX5 to the library. Yesterday XY11 had his crew over to swim. Today, day three of Summer Vacation, I took XX5 to the Summer Reading program at the library. The theme for the summer program is "Catch the Reading Bug". Today there was a lady talking about bugs. Or so I thought. Actually, she was a "bug wrangler". XX5 and I stood in the blaring sun for twenty minutes. The line wrapped around the building, filled with sensibly shod mothers and there adorable children. This is how it is, apparently, whenever there is a free event in Temecula. I didn't know, because this is the first summer I have tried to be a good mother. I was shocked at how aggressive mothers and fathers were in getting a place in line. I was really getting pissed off. This seven foot tall (approximately) blond lady was determined she and her three nine or ten year old sons were going to push ahead of me and my five year old daughter. Sure enough the mini-giants got a seat, second row, right in the middle, while poor little XX5 was banished somewhere over on the far right. I don't think so. "Can you see?" I asked XX5. "No," she said with a sigh. I grabbed her hand and marched over to the mini-giants with the primo seats. "I'm sure you great big boys won't mind if this tiny little girl sits in front of you do you?" They didn't. Turns out that may not have been the greatest idea I ever had. I was settled in, seated with the other parents, reading, keeping half an eye and half an ear open so I would have something to talk about on the way home. I heard the bug lady ask for a volunteer, a brave volunteer. I saw XX5's hand go up, sort of half-heartedly. Remember, this is the girl that says "ewww" at the sight of a butterfly. This is not a good prospect for a brave volunteer for a bug lady. As luck would have it, out of 80 or more children, Bug Lady picks the most bug averse child I personally have ever met. XX5 gets up there, cracks a few jokes, and then is told to act like a tree. I know my kid, and I am poised to leap out of my seat to rescue XX5 as she faints from terror. I almost faint as I see, behind XX5's back, the bug lady pick up a 10 inch long. 1 1/2 inch in circumference, black millipede. She drapes it around XX5's wrist. Luckily, my daughter's pride, at that moment, was greater than her fear. She swayed slightly, and her larger eyes grew larger, but she stood there. She stood there for about 30 seconds, and then she said, in the immortal words of BurpyKitty, "Okay, I'm done!" She thrust her her hand toward Bug Lady. "I mean it," she said "I'm done now." Bug Lady quickly removed the shiny slithery bug from her wrist. XX5 wasted no time return to her seat on the floor. Bug Lady picked another little girl. After the millipede, Bug Lady placed a Madagascar Hissing Cockroach on the little girls back. "Thank goodness," I heard XX5 mutter.

At the end of the program, we were told that there were barbecue flavored meal worms and sour-cream and onion flavored crickets for us to sample. If you ate a bug you got a sticker. A sticker wouldn't quite do it for me. If I ever eat a bug, you can bet there was a six digit pay-off involved. Or a Mercedes.

Here I sit, June 16, the first day of Summer Vacation. XY17 graduated by the skin of his teeth. Really. We didn't know if he was going to graduate until two days before the ceremony. I strongly suspect creative grading on the part of at least one of his teachers. But, let's back up a moment, to a few days before all four of my kids graduated! my father called to let me know that my oldest younger sibling, 27 year old Cilla is finally done with her ten year long opiate and speed addiction. I know what you are picturing, and you are wrong. My sister is gorgeous, still, and the sweetest person you ever could meet. She is just naturally kind, like our Nana. She is never mean, and the only time she has ever hurt me is by being addicted to drugs. I love her, but from afar, because I can't deal with how she has lived her life. Anyway, she decides to leave her very wealthy drug dealing boyfriend, and move from Philly to SoCal to go into an intensive year-long Christian drug rehab. I am thrilled! I am also the one who drives her for six hours to two different locations the day before my kids graduate from, in order, middle school, elementary school, pre-school, and high-school. If you have not figured it out, either from reading this blog or knowing me, I am not a person who functions well under lots of stress and time constraints. As I typed that, I heard God laugh. In spite of the fact that I hate driving, I was very happy to have that time with Cilla. I love her so much. I want my sister, not some drug-addict whose name I avoid mentioning.

I got home at around 10pm, exhausted, and knew I had a huge day the following day. I was pretty together until XY17's graduation. Then I started crying and couldn't stop. I can't believe my baby is grown. I want to make sure I am the best possible parent to the three I still have in school.