In which my sunny disposition has been mysteriously replaced with a Super Stellar Bad Attitude

You guys, I am stress-eating all the things. Right now it's watermelon, but earlier it was about five Fiber One Brownies in a row. I am getting LOTS of fiber, folks. 

I don't feel like I'm doing a good job in ANY area of my life right now and that's pretty much the worst feeling. Like Jack's birthday? I have pretty much taped his celebration together. I know the grandparents don't care. I know Jack certainly doesn't care. (I have a present, cake, and water balloons, so I think he's good to go.) But *I* care. I LIKE parties. I LIKE going out of my way. I LIKE making a big deal of things. I LIKE putting all the elements together. But for whatever reason I just do not have it in me to throw a color-coordinated heavily-themed shindig this year. I KNOW THIS IS OKAY. I AM STILL FRUSTRATED.

(Where Thirty Something Me has improved over Twenty Something Me is that she knows when to give up. See: yesterday's post where I decided in advance that Nothing Will Get Done On Babysitting Days. Or the moment I realized I could BUY something for Jack's class treat instead of making those Pinterest brownies that look like Legos.) 

I'm allowing too much TV and too much sugar. I'm a fairly useless wife. My house... just don't look too closely.The deck stairs thing is still not figured out. I have a million things to return and a million things to buy and I keep forgetting that stupid library book. Do I even know where that library book IS? My work ethic has mainly been directed towards my front yard (which is ALMOST looking awesome) and reading books that prevent me from making dinner on time. ...or any dinner at all.

(But WORTH IT. A hundred thumbs up for Eleanor & Park. Swoon.)

I know this is just a Feeling that will Pass, but man, it SUCKS in the meantime. Phillip worked from home today and when I returned from my various drop offs and shopping trips and gas filling I flounced into the office and brain-vomited all over him. "TOO MANY THINGS ON MY PLATE," I shouted at him, although I can't be sure, I was talking so fast I might not have been speaking English. 

When you're a Three (THERE SHE GOES AGAIN!) and you feel valued for what you DO, it is a stinky sucky feeling when you realize: hey, I'm doing a SHODDY JOB OF EVERYTHING.

 

Watermelon for dinner

It was 84 degrees in Seattle today. Instead of working like a dog in my front yard during Emma's nap, I grabbed the Agatha Christie I stole from my sister's house, made myself a Peach Oatmeal Smoothie in my craptastic personal-size blender, and sat on my deck for a good long while. Am now lobster-colored. WORTH IT. 

It's one of those evenings where I'm all, "Shoot, all that stuff I put on my calendar a couple weeks ago is happening, like, all at once, PASS THE MEDICATION." Dentist appointments, swim lessons, dinner parties, a certain almost-six-year-old's birthday... ack. Oh, and the deck stairs and slide. I was supposed to get my final numbers on Friday, but of course that didn't happen. I just sent a cheery little email to the contractor, subtext being, "HURRY UP, DUDE."

Anyway... things are getting all different again? Like EJ is now this clingy, uber-attached, easily pissed off little thing? Right now she's screaming bloody murder because when I took her out of her high chair (where she was happily coloring) I just... PUT HER DOWN. Standing. On the floor. Next to nothing. AND THEN I WALKED AWAY. HOW DARE I. 

She spent a few minutes standing there shrieking, then another few minutes shrieking at Jack as he tried to help her walk to the living room (SHE'S TRYING TO MAKE A POINT, STOP HELPING HER), and then a few overly dramatic minutes falling to her knees, then getting back up, then falling, then getting back up. All the while screaming. BECAUSE HOW DARE I. 

But look - she's over it! Time for EJ to get used to being one of the Cheung kids, which means finding other things to do while your mother gives all her attention to the internet. 

THAT, anyway, is why I haven't exactly been utilizing that Y membership. The kids are doing swim lessons there and we've gone a few times for the rec swim, but tomorrow morning IDEALLY I would head to the Y directly after kindergarten drop off, stick the girls in childcare and use the treadmill until it's time for Molly's lesson. But I'm totally nervous to leave Emma there. I wasn't the first time. I felt okay about trying again, but she's gotten WORSE. All my best friends have to do is look at her and she starts crying. So it just sounds STRESSFUL to try and leave her there. Right now. I don't know. 

Maybe that's part of the whole "season" thing. This is not the season of consistently working out while one's daughter cheerfully plays in the amazing babylicious playroom. 

After stocking up on Vitamin D

*blows dust off the ole blawg*

The last time I went to Europe I was pregnant with Jack. It seems like forever ago. It was even MORE forever ago that I stopped going "home" (Italy) once or twice a year (Christmas, summer). So it makes absolutely no sense that I am still so happily surprised to note that traveling doesn't HAVE to be a days-long, multi-flight, jet-lagged affair where you must be sure of everything you're packing because WHO KNOWS if you'll be able to buy it THERE. 

I was SO AGAINST flying with children, because flying, to me, was (see above) a days-long, multi-flight, jet-lagged affair that took on all sorts of new neuroses after 9/11. I didn't fly anywhere for a long time. No interest. When I planned our first trip to Disneyland it was going to be a road trip. Oh yes. I was not getting on a plane WITH CHILDREN. 

But then we flew to Vegas with Phillip's family and I marveled at how easy it was. And we flew to LAX for the Disney trip. Twice. And seriously, I am still SO amazed when I am sunning myself mid-morning in a California backyard and fixing my kids dinner by 5pm in Seattle. WHAT A NIFTY WORLD WE LIVE IN!

Plane tickets are expensive and child care is complicated, but I highly recommend hopping on an airplane every so often to visit a friend. There are fare deals to be had and grandparents to sweet talk and you can make it happen! Bonus points if your friend lives in what is basically The Tropics compared to your marine temperate locale and your weekend souvenir is an awkward and unfortunate tan line. 

Elizabeth will tell you that the first time Getting On A Plane And Visiting An Internet Friend came up I thought I would only go for one night. I couldn't POSSIBLY stay longer. Not because my kids needed me or I would miss them so much or anything nice like that, I just felt like I wasn't ALLOWED. I can't go anywhere BY MYSELF! JUST FOR FUN?! So it's totally crazy to me that a few years later here I am taking off, alone, for absolutely no reason, for four days... good crazy. 

I had such a great time, you guys. And it was so nice to get away. I feel bad because pretty much my entire family was sick while I was gone - either getting sick or continuing to be sick - and I was off, you know, lolling about a beautifully landscaped yard and plotting my move to California. But after the house guests and the holidays and the sicknesses and the stuck at home it was nice to just GO. I am so lucky I'm able to GO. I am so lucky I have such great people to GO to.

And whenever you start to feel like a lame frumpy housewife, there's nothing better than parking your own car, taking the shuttle, going through security, sitting at your gate all by your lonesome to feel like a Jet Setting Sophisticated Cosmopolitan Lady. (Just me?) 

Also, airport snacks contain no calories. FYI.

Anyway. School starts again this week, I have the Great Spring Clothes Sorting to suffer through, and a six-year-old's birthday to plan. Back to real life! I kinda missed it.

ooh! ooh! Before you go, I have a serious question. How cost prohibitive do you think it would be to install a SLIDE alongside the DECK STAIRS????? (I'm calling contractors this week. I AM.)

 

All right I feel better. Which means this post is pretty boring.

In the morning after kindergarten drop off I'm taking the girls to Children's Hospital for EJ's x-ray. They have a walk in x-ray clinic. You just show up! And get an x-ray! Crazypants! Then we have an appointment at 4pm to... actually, I'm not entirely sure what it's for. My understanding of what the referrals are for and what the appointments actually ARE are not the same. So. Some people would, you know, find out. Me, I'm pretty SURE I know what's going on and that is overriding my general dislike of dealing with all of these things. Mom of the year! 

But I think it's going to be okay. Even if it's not okay, things will be okay. She's walking now - I had her perform for the preschool parents AND the kindergarten teacher. Everywhere we go people comment on what a happy baby. And as of the last week or so the kid does not shut up. Ever. She's either happy bubbling or indignant barking or demandy whining. I just feel like things will be okay. 

Perhaps I can say this because my in-laws want to take the big kids to the Seattle Center (the big park and various museums and playhouses and concert halls by the Space Needle) for this giant bounce house festival thing? I don't know. Sounds like the ninth circle of hell to me. But this means I don't have to think about having two other kids with me at the consultation appointment, and Phillip is going to meet me there, and afterwards we'll have a Parents And Youngest Child date at the fancy outdoor shopping center. I am thinking sushi and retail therapy at Crate & Barrel. 

Besides, I feel like everything is GOOD. Sometimes it's going too fast, but it all feels like good stuff right now. Shoot you guys, I made DINNER. Honey mustard pork chops, asparagus, sauteed mushrooms and zucchini, and leftover mac and cheese for the boy who subsists on preservatives. I used my treadmill today (while watching Veronica Mars. I'm reviewing.) I have a plane ticket to Sacramento. I've joined the Y. Pretty much the only thing bugging me right now is how behind I am on laundry and the fact that my stylist is not available for a haircut on Saturday. OH WAIT. I just checked and there was a cancellation for the precise time I would have requested. OMG. STARS=ALIGNED.

I shall now wait for the laundry fairy to appear. 

In the meantime, I'll show you what I made today:

I do not know what is up with all those weird LINES! They don't exist in real life. Do I blame the camera? ANYWAY. This is the present for Jack's teacher, about to have her first baby in May. I could have just bound up the pages and made a cover out of cardstock or whatever, but just buying a scrapbook sounded SO much easier. I bought letter stickers and baby stickers and then gluesticked the whole thing together. Each piece of "advice" is on its own page with a picture of the advice giver.The only things I'm missing are a class photo, which I totally didn't bother to buy and therefore do not have a picture to copy and put in the book, and a picture of one kid and I don't know how that happened because he's the one I worked with FOREVER.  The student teacher is going to get back to me about whether we're giving it to her this Friday or next and I'm thinking I'll make Orangette's pink cookies, except they'll be light blue and green (it's a BOY.) So yeah, part of me feels like a total teacher suck up (perhaps I have a history), but I also think it's really cute and she'll love it. 

Okay people, think good x-ray thoughts! I'm fairly certain I'll be stresstweeting from the appointment. Doesn't that sound super fun?! You are SO EXCITED!

Today's REAL accomplishment is that I did not raid the Easter candy

Thanks for all your kids-at-church thoughts. It is LOVELY to know that I'm not alone. I think the feedback peaked with the call from my mother reminding me that she used to take all five of us to church, ALONE. My mother, so encouraging. 

Actually, she really was, telling me about how her mother used to take her to the Italian Mass, just HER, and my grandpa would take the other kids to the regular Mass, and how super special it was. So now I am thinking that the easiest thing for Team Cheung to do is have the morning person take a kid to an early Mass (me) and the not-so-morning person take the oToday's ther kid to another Mass (him) and no one takes the baby anywhere because she's SO GODAWFUL. I am hoping that we will settle into a new parish by September, sign the kids up for Sunday School, and maybe Emma will have pushed back her nap an hour or two bringing joy and immeasurable patience to her parents. 

I would also like you to know that I finally called Children's hospital and set up the appointments. After a big mix up about ultrasounds and x-rays and what these referrals were actually FOR. I managed to commit myself to going to the hospital twice in one day, the second time probably with all the kids, and ugh, we're just not going to think about it. 

Especially because: DUM DE DUM DUM! Emma is walking! YOU GUYS! I KNOW!

Okay, so, it's not like walking is her preferred mode of transport. And it's not like she really does it of her own accord. And she absolutely refused - plopped down on her bottom in the middle of the hall - when I tried to get her to walk for the kindergarten moms at school pick up. I can't say we're all the way there. But she's MUCH steadier than she was in that video I posted a while back, she can cover more space, she can stand up on her own, and on the very rare occasion takes a few steps on her own. Like everything else with Emma I think the progress will be Wretchedly Slow, but DUDES. Finally. I'm looking forward to a child who doesn't make everyone think she's miserably handicapped and her mother doesn't care enough to buy her a board with wheels to make the scooting easier. 

I feel like this news should be Momentous and deserving of it's own blog post, but the fact is she's been doing this for about a week now and I just wasn't sure when I could Officially Call the walking, you know? Her grandparents have been saying "any day now!" since CHRISTMAS and perhaps the news is more a relief than occasion for champagne and cake. 

(Oh you guys, like I would ever say something is NOT an occasion for champagne and cake.)

I also cancelled the dentist appointments that took me an entire year to schedule because I last minute-ish decided to go to California for Spring Break. Just me. Oh yeah. What, you don't get a Spring Break? I DO, SUCKAS! God bless the state of Washington for putting on the Spring Fair that week, my parents for wanting the kids overnight so they can take them to the Spring Fair, and my husband for not minding single parenthood over a weekend. I better start slathering on the fake tanner now so all the Californians won't be blinded. 

All the stuff going on (alternate title: when is my nap?)

Actually everything is fine. Really. Even if I don't feel like it, everything is fine. 

1. The Saturday before Palm Sunday Jack felt sick, threw up once, laid around all day. We deemed him well enough to go to school on Monday, but all week he seemed off - lethargic, no appetite, falling asleep before dinner. The Saturday before Easter we finally took him to the doctor because he had a cough that was getting worse and TA-DA! "Slight pneumonia". He came home with antibiotics and an inhaler thingie, but he had another horrible night and right now he's going back to the doctor with Phillip. I am home with Emma. Molly is at preschool. 

2. That entire week we had houseguests. Two different sets, multiple times. You guys know I love company, but I could stand to not make beds for a few days. 

3. In addition to our various houseguests, Phillip's brother, sister-in-law, and two nephews flew in on Good Friday and we're arranging our week around seeing them. 

4. And BECAUSE we had one set of house guests Thursday night and family flew in on Friday, I opted not to try and figure out how we were also going to go to all the Holy Week services. If you are wondering if I feel rotten about this, I do. I observed maybe 1% of Lent this year and then I went and put people who observe 0% above my own faith. Or maybe I should say that I put Not Struggling With Schedules And Group Dynamics above the holiest time of the year. So. Well done, Me.

5. In the course of an email conversation about how Jack was feeling in school (was he acting sick there too?) his teacher wrote a little bit about his progress in reading which made me feel Anxious. Not crazy person anxious, more normalish. Except for the part where I'm almost positive I made that email about me and not about my kid and what is ACTUALLY happening. I really have to stop thinking that Jack is a little mini-me and assuming how he feels or what he thinks or how he'll react. He is NOT ME. I think he is the MOST like me, of the three kids, but he is NOT ME and I would do well to stop with the Projecting. 

6. I didn't have time to think through that email since I was in the waiting room at the doctor's office for Emma's 18 month appointment, which I was already anxious about. 

7. Everything is fine. Also the doctor told me about one thousand times not to worry, that there was a less than 1% chance anything was wrong, but I came out of that appointment with two referrals to Children's Hospital. Between Emma's late walking (she is progressing, but OH SO SLOWLY, and it's been two weeks of falling down after two or three steps) and the, ah, bowel issues/weirdnesses she's had since birth, the doctor thinks it would be a good idea to get an ultrasound on her lower spine. To make sure everything "fused" correctly. A precaution. I agree. I am not totally unfamiliar with this train of thought, my good friend's son having more severe issues in the same department. The other referral is for a specialist to check out her bottom. The word "surgery" was tossed around a few times. 

8. I feel worried anyway. Not a lot worried. Just that low subliminal rumble of overwhelmedness.

9. Also the next round of phone calls, appointments, child care, feeling like this is all on me to take care of. I didn't want Phillip to work from home today because it's often harder, but right now I am SO grateful that he is with Jack and I'm at home with Emma. After he came home from the doctor on Saturday he said, "I should really stay home when you have all these doctor things, because that's really hard." It is. 

10. And my kids have hardly ever been sick. Or needed a doctor. So I am waffling between "THIS IS EXTRA NERVEWRACKING" and "Oh shut up, so many people have it so much worse, you big fat complainer you."

11. Oh, and this week I have to tell my pastor "No" when he specifically asked me to say "Yes". And other unbloggable things. 

12. Time to rummage through the Easter baskets...

In which a light bulb takes forever to switch on; home video with drunken stumbling, cleavage, bad hair

I spent most of my day poring over community center brochures and dance studio and church and martial arts websites trying to find something ANYTHING for my kids to do this summer. I don't need long term day camps. I don't need full time childcare. I just want some stuff to DO, to hang our summer on. Last year we did Vacation Bible School and ballet. This year I'm shooting for VBS and swim lessons, at the absolute least. 

BUT NOTHING WORKS OUT OMG MY EYES ARE CROSSING FROM THE STRAIN. I couldn't find a single stupid affordable thing that 1) BOTH kids could do (4 and 6-year-olds aren't often in the same group) and 2) would fit with Emma's schedule and 3) OUR schedule, with Phillip coming home from work and dinner and what we like to do on weekends. Impossible! 

Then I looked up the nearest YMCA and you guyyyyyyssssss... The Y is pricey which is why I've never considered it, but I started to think about how we won't be paying for preschool anymore, how they have AMAZING childcare and kid spaces, how many kid programs they have, swim lessons, how I could even just go there for lack of anything better to do on a weekday morning and exercise while my kids play. Is this not a win win win win win situation? And there's no contract so if we decide it's too expensive/not worthwhile to keep for the fall, then we can drop it! 

I emailed a local gym too, one that's super close to me with the same sort of child care and the same swim lessons. I'll see what it costs to go there (of COURSE they don't tell you on the website) and I'm thinking I'll probably go with the Y just because they have way more kid activities, but still. I'm feeling RATHER PROUD of this family-size solution to not only our inevitable summer doldrums and swim lesson quandaries, but how to get some exercise in when I have all the kids. 

I know other people join gyms. I just did not think I was one of those people. This is a whole new horizon for me, Internet. 

While I continue to pat myself on the back, please enjoy this video of Emma's nightly Walking Boot Camp session. I don't know, you guys. My one wish was that she'd start walking before her 18 month appointment, but that appointment is THURSDAY MORNING and, as you can see from this video, THERE IS NO HOPE. This morning my friend said, "It's because she's so tall!" but... I think my friend was just being nice. 

 

BAH

I need an app that tells me what's happening next

Everything's a little bit off here at Camp Cheung. Everyone's a little off kilter, the routines are crooked, no one seems to know which end is up. It's kind of like my gallery wall, where every time I look at it I notice all the frames that need the tiniest adjustments. But even though I am constantly adjusting, they constantly look wrong. It MAY drive me insane. 

I think it started Thursday - late Thursday night a distant 16-year-old relation was retrieved at the airport and brought to our guest room. The next day he toured the university and his dad flew in late that night. I think I've seen them for all of five minutes. They sleep here, I'm told, but they leave before I get up and come home when I'm in bed. Phillip says they are investigating Seattle and playing many many many rounds of golf. I am not ENTIRELY sure when they're leaving.

Anyway. That's sort of disconcerting. 

Then Jack threw up yesterday. Out of the blue. We'd gone out to breakfast, he'd been hyper and silly on account of overnight guests (and oh, the constant asking about when they are going to come HOOOOOME, as if they cannot fathom guests who are visiting but not at all interested in THEMMMMM) but then boom: barf. I don't know. I just don't know. Where did that come from? What is it? WHO KNOWS?!

We sent him to bed pumped up on all sorts of fruity-flavored medicine and rushed back to his room at midnight when we heard him sobbing. Except he wasn't sobbing so much as... counting? He was sitting up in his bed counting. Worriedly. We told him to count in his head and go back to sleep. 

(I am just waiting for the day when Jack and I get to discuss Anxiety Disorders. Seriously. I feel as certain about this as I do about the fact that he will get glasses before age ten.) 

Then this morning Emma woke up at six. Usually it's the big kids bounding into our room at six and Emma sleeping until eight, but today was the other way around and I got a head start on worrying about what church was going to be like with an extra overtired baby. (Hint: horrible.) 

And Jack still felt sick and I was all set to stay home with them because I am having FEELINGS about church lately LOTS OF THEM, but then I realized: I absolutely HATE staying home with kids on weekends by myself. It just feels like the rest of the week. It makes me nuts. So just Molly and me went to church and I only dealt with one person asking me how many songs were left and afterwards we went to the kindergarten mom's Chinese restaurant and gorged ourselves on scallion pancakes. 

I am never ever going to lose the baby weight, am I? (The entire Internet chuckles to itself.)

Then we went shopping (Molly bought a princess necklace, I bought sky high metallic platform wedges with an ankle strap because I am super practical) and grocery shopping (I avoided the Easter candy) and Nai Nai and Ye Ye were here with heaps of food and fun aaaaaaaand I sat in my room reading my newest book, which is about the Holocaust. JUST A LITTLE LIGHT READING. 

You guys, I'm sure you're all sick of me talking about my stupid books by now and I'm not sure I even WANT to write about this one, I don't even know why I'm reading it in the first place. I had nothing to read, it was cheap on the Kindle, I sort of felt up for it? Somehow? It's been a long time since I read a flat out surviving-the-Holocaust book and maybe I won't read another one. Or at least not for another several years. I say that, but then one of the only things driving these people to survive is so that they can TELL PEOPLE what HAPPENED and GOD if I don't feel like I OWE THEM. At least that much. 

Blah blah blah. ANYWAY. Jack is still not feeling well, except for these moments when he perks up and starts telling me how the dinosaurs went extinct or what words start with Y. I have every intention of sending him to school tomorrow. He spent the whole day in his pajamas lolling about on the couch, so he should be JUST FINE. 

And I need to get back on track. I need my routine! My schedule! I have the faintest little hope that I can find a regular time to exercise! Except this week? This week is even crazier. The golfers are sticking around plus Phillip's brother and his family are coming to visit and I have only vague ideas as to what the plans are and our Easter lunch will be bookended by giant Chinese dinners and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to manage family AND fasting on Good Friday and gaaaaahhhh WHEN IS BEDTIME?

Carpooling, kindergarten, fails at making school parent friends

I planned to do a big picture post tonight with my new! entry way walls and my new! shoe cabinet and my new! coat tree, but I'm too tired. SORRY, INTERNET! I know, the lack of forty-seven paragraphs detailing my Quest For The Perfect Entry Way Rug is a huge disappointment to you all. Next time. Pinky swear. 

I also considered describing my walk of shame back to Weight Watchers, but I am genuinely depressed about that, like, I don't even feel like trolling for sympathy and encouragement on my BLAWG, which means I'm REALLY SUPER DUPER DOWN ABOUT IT. Which is all we're going to say about THAT. Got it? FIN. 

So WHO KNOWS what is going to come out of my brain tonight! Oh wait. I was going to say something about carpooling. 

I was thinking about carpooling because today was one of the kindergarten then wait then preschool then come back home then back to preschool then an hour then go back to kindergarten then all come home and start dinner kind of days and DUUUUDES. It's not, you know, the WORST thing in the world, but it can be annoying at times and heinous at others. This week, I remembered, is FEBRUARY and I actually counted out the months until the kindergarten/preschool/baby thing is over. (Four and a half.) Then summer. Then a year in which both big kids are in school all day and I hardly know what to do with myself. EAT ALL THE BON BONS.

Oh, that reminds me. Someone was asking why we're going to put Molly in kindergarten next year even though her birthday is past the cut off date. So! The answer to that is several-fold. The first thing is that her birthday is ONE DAY past the cut off date. So I don't feel like I'm trying to get away with much. (You know me, rule follower and all that.) Another thing is that she's Child #2 and has seen kindergarten up close and personal for months now. Nearly every day her brother comes home from school and makes her PLAY kindergarten. She sits and does "homework" with him in the evenings. He's teaching her everything he's learning. When we're at the school, Molly blends in with the kindergartners. She and Jack are 15.5 months apart in age, and having them be two years apart in school seems bizarre. She may be my preschool dropout, but 4.5 year old Molly seems to have No Fear about kindergarten and when I tease her about keeping her home with me she does NOT have a sense of humor about it. I've asked her preschool teachers, Jack's teacher, and my personal crew of teachers and they all think Molly will be just fine. I have to apply for early entry in April, then have her tested in a group setting, then (if she passes that one) an individual assessment in the summer, then (if she passes that) a four-week "trial" in kindergarten in the fall. Though Jack's teacher tells me they never pull them out, even when they should. I'm not particularly anxious about it, it's just another pile of paperwork and appointments. 

The last thing, though, is that I'm not one of the Err On The Side Of Keeping Them Back parents. I think it depends on the kid, obvs. I feel confident about Molly, but if we were talking Jack I'm not sure what we'd be thinking right now. Also, I'm a mid-July birthday and was always one of the youngest in my class. This never once mattered in school, seriously, not that I can think of. The only thing that might have affected me was driving, but since I went to school on an overseas military base and you had to have a stateside license AND be eighteen, pretty much no one drove anyway. I got good grades and was "a leader" because that's the sort of irritating brownnoser personality I have, not because of (or in spite of) my age. And I swear to God, if I'd been another year older in high school? If I'd been turning 19 when I graduated instead of 18? I can't fathom the misery. (SORRY MOM!) I mean, I was just SO READY to go away to college and meet different people and live in a city and GROW UP. I'm not saying that Molly is just like me, and who knows what she'll be like when she's 17! But right now she's READY and it seems like crazy talk to hold her back. 

But I was going to talk about carpooling, right? Right. Okay, so CARPOOLING. Another thing you've said to me is, "Why don't you find someone to carpool with!" WHY DON'T I?!

I don't know, internet. It just hasn't been so easy. Ideally I would be friends with another preschool mom, or I'd have befriended the mom of the little girl that Molly seems to like best, but it hasn't worked out that way. For one thing I live WAY OUT OF THE WAY - no preschool family lives near me. I don't quite see what they'd get out of it, honestly. And the other preschool moms haven't exactly appeared to REQUIRE carpooling. As far as I can tell they have nowhere to go before or after preschool, they hang out and chat and even if I WANTED to do that with them, I have this BABY in the car whose nap is always getting jerked around. This is unfair - the other moms have younger and older kids too, but they really do seem to have it much more together than I do. They're not unfriendly, but they've developed some sort of relationship with each other while I've sat in my car waiting for the teachers to open the door. I'm FINE with this, but it hasn't really gained me any benefits either. Oh, and until last week, I was the only one who picked up her kid at 12:30 - all the other kids stayed that extra hour for lunch and more playtime. Emma's napping later now, so Molly's now staying that extra hour too, but carpooling definitely wouldn't have worked before. 

As for KINDERGARTEN... it's different and the same. Most kids either take the bus or go to the on site daycare after school. There are 4 or 5 moms in the hallway with me every afternoon, but none of them (of course) are parents of the kids that Jack talks about most (which would be THE GIRLS). A couple of them were even kids Jack didn't particularly like the first few months. So there was no ORGANIC way of striking up conversation. We small talk, but not much. And there's one mom who even seems to be annoyed by Molly and Emma and moves away from us if we're standing nearby. I KNOW. 

I guess I'm saying I've failed at making School Friends. I wasn't inclined to do so at preschool and I haven't been successful at kindergarten. I also haven't noticed another parent who looks like she could use a carpool friend. Actually, there is one mom at Jack's school who is also toting two smaller kids along each afternoon, but her son is in a different kindergarten and the one time I initiated with her it didn't really go anywhere. BLARGH. 

It's my own fault? I guess? It hasn't been easy. Molly's school is full of the chatty, involved, on site type of mom, Jack's school is not. I feel haggard when I'm at both places, just trying to get in and out as quick and efficiently as possible. I don't WANT to stick around and chat. I mean, I do, I just, well, YOU KNOW. 

So that is why 1) early kindergarten and 2) no carpool. Four and a half months, you guys. Four and a half months, then a few weeks of summer, then TWO KIDS IN SCHOOL UNTIL 3PM EVVVVVVERY DAAAAAAY.

Bat Saga

If you follow me on Twitter you could not escape the Bat Tweets today. I'm sorry. BUT YOU GUYS. The bat! It was ridiculous! It is STILL ridiculous. I cannot believe we arranged an entire day around, and my husband missed an entire day of work because of, a STUPID BAT.

Around two in the morning Phillip got up to investigate a noise in the bathroom. Silly me, I thought he was getting up to deal with the Insomniac Baby who starts talking to herself around two or three and doesn't stop for at least an hour. But no, he thought Jack had come upstairs to use OUR bathroom, but the noises were weird, so he got up - and then he was turning on lights and banging doors and I was all, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU CRAZY MAN."

He slams the door and looks at me. "So," he says. "There's a bat in our bathroom."

While Emma yammered in the background, we both Mulled The Implications. 

It wasn't in a place where he could trap it (hiding in a heap of bath toys) (which are now in the garbage) (ugh). If he shooed it out it could fly anywhere in our house. We didn't have a net or anything to catch it with. Besides, Phillip was afraid it would bite him. 

He left the lights on, both doors shut, got back in bed and began to Google. What else would we do?

The bathroom is a little weird - one end opens into the hallway and the other opens into our bedroom. It's the only bathroom on the upper floor AND it has a super high ceiling with a skylight. It's pretty if you ignore the cobwebs. Phillip assumed the bat somehow flew in from the attic? But how did it get in the attic? In the middle of the night he left messages for pest control services and in the morning I said, "Um, no, you aren't going to work today and leaving me with VERMIN ON THE LOOSE."

We used the bathroom downstairs. We told the kids the toilet was broken. I made Phillip sneak in and get my contacts, but otherwise we kept the doors shut. We didn't want to wait for anyone to call us back, so Phillip called again, and a man from Critter Control promised to be at our house between ten and noon. 

Twitter warned me that Vermin Catchers were chatty and the Bat Man did not disappoint. In the span of five or six minutes I learned everything I never wanted to know about bats. However! He located and caught the bat within minutes and duct taped it into a coffee cup he had in his truck. 

Why didn't you just get RID of it? you are asking. Throw it outside! Well, because the Bat Man made a Very Big Deal about getting it tested for rabies. It was that or immediately go to the clinic and begin the series of rabies shots for the entire family. The chance was low, he promised, but STILL. STILL. WHAT IF? These are your BABIES! AAAAUUUUGGGHHHH!

It sems like this is the sort of thing pest control should do FOR you, but no, we got to KEEP the bat. He left the bat on our PORCH. In its coffee cup HOUSE. (Well, first he checked out the attic and the roof and nope, no bat colonies here and OMG BAT COLONIEEEEEEEESSSSS.)

He told us to call Seattle Public Health. And this is where everything gets RIDICULOUS. 

Seattle Public Health was very sorry about our bat, but they didn't think it needed to be tested for rabies. Phillip demanded to know why not. Well there are requirements and restrictions for doing such testing and if we weren't DIRECTLY EXPOSED to the bat, there was no need. Phillip explained that we didn't KNOW if we were directly exposed. What if it  LANDED on one of the CHILDREN during the NIGHT and seriously, I was dry heaving as he had this heated conversation. 

Phillip and the SPH lady went back and forth and because she felt sorry for us in our Bat-Ridden Plight, she agreed that as it was found in the Master Bathroom which is technically part of the Master Bedroom, she could say it was "flying around in our room" and we were "directly exposed", but she'd have to the argue the point to her superiors and get back to us. 

Oh! And if they DID agree to test it, we would have to drive the bat to Kent (waaaaay south of us), have it humanely euthanized, and then drive to Shoreline (north of us) to have it tested. !!!

While we waited to see if they'd agree to test it, Phillip decided to call a vet and see if THEY could euthanize it. (I didn't know this part.) "Uhhhh..." they said. "Uhhhh...." Then they told him to call Animal Control. (WHY DIDN'T THE BAT MAN JUST TELL US TO CALL ANIMAL CONTROL.)

So! Animal Control said, "Hey, we'll euthanize your bat! AND we'll deliver it to Shoreline for testing!" Then they wanted our information and they'd call us back. Note: Animal Control? MUCH CLOSER THAN KENT. Note: I WAS UNAWARE OF THIS PHONE CALL. 

But. They never called back. Phillip sat around wondering what to do about our bat. I was ignoring this to the best of my ability, except for when I had something exciting to tweet. 

Then SPH called and said they agreed to test our bat. OH THANK YOU FOR THE LOVELY FAVOR, SPH. But we had to euthanize it first and deliver it to the lab "packaged properly". I do not have ANY desire to know what that means. 

Animal Control still hadn't called. (Note: I DID NOT KNOW THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO CALL.)

Around 3 Phillip decided that he better just drive the stupid bat to Kent so he'd have time to drive it back up to Shoreline before the lab closed. Me = still ignoring everything. Me = wondering why he can't go pick up Jack on his way to deliver the bat. Me = disbelieving that a bat, a MOUSE-LIKE BAT, has put a total stop to Cheung Daily Production.

Phillip left with the bat. Two minutes later I hauled the girls to school and fetched Jack. When we got home, Phillip's car was in the driveway. He was in the house talking on the phone. I stood at the top of the stairs and shouted, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON PHILLIP CHEUNG!"

"Animal Control is coming to get the bat!"

"WHAT"

"They're coming to PICK UP THE BAT!"

Oh you guys. This is so stupid. Animal Control didn't call Phillip, but Seattle Public Health DID, in the car, right before he got on the freeway, to tell him that Animal Control was coming to get the bat. How SPH linked up with Animal Control I AM STILL VERY CONFUSED ABOUT THIS. I was sort of stuck on the part where someone was driving across town to my house to pick up a half-dead BAT.

I MEAN, REALLY?!

And it's not like it started to make sense after that. I know Phillip is reading this and dying to explain how SPH knew about Animal Control and he DID tell me but I'M STILL NOT CLEAR  BUT ANYWAY. Phillip had a half hour conversation with the Animal Control girl in our driveway, who was holding our bat in something that looked like an oatmeal cannister about three feet away from her body. GOD KNOWS WHAT THEY WERE DISCUSSING. But Phillip came inside and said he had to FOLLOW THE BAT. 

I KNOW, INTERNET. I KNOW. IT'S A BAT.

Apparently he had to give Animal Control twenty minutes or so to kill the bat, I mean Humanely Euthanize the bat, THEN he could go pick it up and take it to the lab in Shoreline. (They told him they would deliver the bat on the phone, but I guess they mixed that up with "we will pick up your bat from your house".) 

Meanwhile I am thinking: TAXPAYER DOLLARS AT WORK. 

So Phillip left again, a bit later, for Animal Control in Interbay (for you locals playing along) to pick up a dead bat. Then he made it to the lab in Shoreline at 4:55 PM, five minutes before it closed. 

All this to find out if a bat, which should not even be flying around in January, and did not come from a Bat Colony in our attic, and which is the size of a teeny mouse, which (we are fairly certain) was NOT flying around our house and landing on each individual family member in their beds, and living in an area in which rabies is not common, HAS RABIES. So that WE CAN KNOW THAT WE ARE NOT EXPOSED. 

I realize that rabies is a big deal. But this just seems wildly SILLY to me. Who knew that catching the bat would be infinitely easier than deciding what to do with the bat post-catch? 

So! Let us all fervently pray that this bat is not one of the lucky five percent that have rabies because OH GOD if I have to add "Now we're all getting rabies shots" to this blog post I'll have to also add a padded cell to my house.