Pecked by Ducks

So I bet you have been wondering where the heck I have been.

I know! Right?

I’m still wondering when I’m going to get my holiday card out (for 2009) and thank you notes from the boys birthdays (April) and my crochet post (October) posted.

So here’s a run down of the adventure we have been on. Yes it is epic, is going to require more than one post, and may involve some reference to boogers and or middle-of-the-night flying projectiles along the way just FYI.

It all began back in October (2009) when our fabulous au pair Rocio was preparing to return home after a wonderful year with our family. As usual, while we were preparing for her departure, we were also preparing for the arrival of our new au pair Marylin. This was also the first time we were getting a new au pair while I was working full time. I wasn’t going to be able to be with her 24/7 for the first 2 weeks, so we had her arrive 2 weeks early so she could do the routine with Rocio and not get left adrift.

Our au pairs need to drive every day and it is always a big transition for them. Usually what I do is go out with them in the first day or two for an hour or so and make sure they know all the local laws and how to get back to our house and what all the buttons and levers do in the car. Then I send them out by themselves every day for 2 - 4 hours a day to practice for a week or so. Then I have them go with me while I drop off the kids and then I have them drive home. Then she drives back to the kids and I drive us all home. We do this until the au pair feels confident in the drive and I feel confident in their driving.

I should have known that something was wrong when Rocio wouldn’t let Marylin drive while she was in the car. Marylin was so quiet and “shy” that it was hard to tell - and took a while to figure out - that something was seriously wrong.

I don’t even know how to describe it exactly, but one indicator was that she had totally flat affect. She didn’t react to things and she would stare into middle distance for very long periods of time. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I was uncomfortable enough to not leave her alone with the kids for very long at all. I started working from home the day Rocio left so I could be in the house with them and Marylin was a horrible driver so I never let her drive the kids.

One time I had to go to a doctor’s appointment and I took them with me. I left them at a playground nearby for an hour, and when I returned, the kids were running around like crazy and Marylin was sitting, staring at the ground. It was just… odd. Also, I would tell her things over and over again (plus she had done all of this for 2 weeks with Rocio remember) and she just wouldn’t (couldn’t?) do it. For example, Every day I would come downstairs at 2:30 (time to leave to pick up the kids) and ask, “Did you pack a snack?” and she would say “No” so I would say, “It is very important to pack a snack and water every day for the kids. They are hungry when they get in the car and it is a long drive home. You need to start packing a snack at 2:15.” She would say “Ok.” And the next day? No snack. It took 4 days of telling her every day before she packed a snack on the 5th day.

This made me think that maybe her English was worse than we thought, but because she was so quiet, we just didn’t know. So I began asking her to explain back to me my instructions and she had no problem. She even used different words to explain them back. So was she willfully ignoring me? Or forgetting? Or please let there be some sort of explanation for why? Then I wrote out in excruciating detail my expectations for her each day and she still didn’t do anything unless I prompted her to do so.

I would tell her every day “Take the car out and practice driving.” She would say okay and I would go to my office to work. 2:30 would roll around and I would realize that she never left the house. I would ask her why she didn’t take the car out and she would say things like “Oh” or “I don’t know” and I would say you have to take it out tomorrow and practice. She would say ok, I would remind her and she still wouldn’t do it. <arrrg!>

Also I kept telling her not to download anything on my computer and of course she would say ok and then leave the things she downloaded on my desktop. (Like I wouldn’t notice?) My antivirus was working serious overtime and finally just gave out. I had to wipe the machine and start over. Now I had a back up, but apparently it hadn’t been backing up since before Rocio left so I lost all of the pictures she had left for me of her entire year as well of lots of other things I didn’t immediately notice until I went looking.

So after 3 weeks, I REALLY had to get back to work but I knew Marylin wasn’t working out so I called my LCC (local coordinator for our au pair agency) and explained the situation. Given that Marylin was also telling me she didn’t like driving and wouldn’t drive in the dark, it was an easy excuse for a quick “transition”. The thing we didn’t know was that she was going to have to live with us for 2 weeks while she looked for a new family. That was very awkward, but we were able to couch the whole thing as a driving issue. We felt bad about dumping her off on another family, but I really needed her out of my house.

During those 2 weeks, we found another au pair (Minerva) who was transitioning as well, so was available right away. She was extending for a year meaning we could keep her for 14 months and I was desperate for coverage and she was 24 instead of 18, so I was hoping for a little more drive and independence. Just a little foreshadowing, but I guess I should have been less desperate and at least demanded to read her application and spoken to her previous host family before we accepted her.

Anyhoo, Minerva’s arrival was 4 days before Marylin’s 2 weeks were up, so our fabulous LCC (Erica), said she would take Marylin at 8:00am Friday morning. Minerva’s flight was arriving around noon, so I figured I had plenty of time to clean her room, wash the linens and have everything ready for Minerva’s arrival.

Maybe now is a good time to mention that we don’t go in the au pair’s room. The boys aren’t allowed in ever without permission and I tell our bi-weekly house cleaners, not to pick up after them just to clean what they can. That way if the au pair is neat, their room gets cleaned and if messy, then at least their bathroom is clean and they don’t feel harassed. We try to let that one space at least be their own.

So I ran the kids to school and got home to face… “the horror”.

The place was trashed.

Literally.

It took 2 garage sized (30 gal? 40 gal?) trash bags just to bag up the piles of trash she had never bagged or taken out, just left in massive piles over the trashcans. The linens were ripped and stained, the toothbrush holder crusted with a quarter inch of leck, the shower caddy, shower curtain, shower surround begrimed. There were layers of toothpaste crusted on the wall near the toothbrush holder and massive amounts of hair strands everywhere.

Now I might have though she was pissed at us and trashed the place deliberately, except that it was clear this was a long term accumulation which must have begun as soon as Rocio left. I literally had to throw everything I could away and scrub what I couldn’t.

I should also mention that maybe two or three weeks before this I had been in my office one day and gone to turn out the light when I noticed a massive booger stuck to the wall right by the light switch.

Ewww!

Right?

Now let’s be honest.

I have 2 small boys.

This is not the most disgusting thing I have ever discovered in my house. But still… come on. That’s gross.

So I scraped it off with a putty knife and resigned myself to finding some touch up paint.

Now back to my epic cleaning of the filthy pit of despair. I had vacuumed and mopped and scrubbed and cleared and was finally ready to rush out the door to pick up Minerva when I went to turn out the bathroom light and noticed… it.

A massive booger stuck to the wall right by the light switch.

No.

It couldn’t be.

The boys don’t come in here. Could it possibly be?……

Yes.

I checked the entire house and next to almost every light switch there was a massive dried-on booger.

I…I….I….. don’t even know what to say.

THE HORROR.

This was going to make an AWESOME post!!!

But wait….it gets better.

So I picked up Minerva and since it took me so long to clean, I hadn’t had time to buy new things for her room. On the way home, with my apologies, we stoped by Target and picked out all new stuff for her room. Which, I guess is actually nice for her, since with some minimal guidance she got to pick out her new bedding etc. We got her sheets in the washer and dryer, picked up the kids, she met Captain Smarty Pants we had some dinner and CSP put the kids to bed while I cleaned up.

Also I should mention that we have an old Mac on a kid desk in the living room for the boys. It is old and slow and they basically play some little online flash games and occasionally we check movie times or recipes or directions on it. It’s just there so we can watch what the kids are doing.

After the boys fell asleep, CSP came down and for some reason decided to check something on the Mac. Then I heard  ”OMG…holy s**t!!”. Of course I was there in an instant. “What?”

CSP told me to prepare myself because I was never going to be able to un-see what I was about to see - I’m thinking some youtube nonsense - when he opens a photo off the desktop….

…of Marylin dressed in her Halloween schoolgirl costume, in a pose that left it not at all to the imagination as to whether or not she was wearing underpants - she wasn’t, just so we’re clear - and on her bed upstairs in our house.

Now there are a couple of disturbing things (besides the obvious) about this.

First, who took the picture.

Second, why is it on the desktop of a computer that no one in the house except the kids really ever use.

Third, what exactly was she downloading - or uploading - from my computer that caused the total fail of my anti-virus,

and fourth, if I send it to my local coordinator (who now has to be told) is that some sort of crossing digital lines - federal offense or something?

We decided to delete it instead, but now I had to call Erica and tell her everything because she has 2 kids and Marylin is in her house.

I made the phone call, explained everything, made sure Erica fully understood and was relieved I had fulfilled my civic duty. Her response? “Man! It’s always the quiet ones isn’t it?”

ha!

I called Erica later that week to check in. And really I just wanted to hear if anything crazy had happened at her house - ok I’ll admit it, I just wanted to know if her house had been booger tagged too. So another fried computer, a flooded bathroom left for 2 days, odd hours on end of staring at nothing and 4 more booger tagged light switches later… Erica sent Marylin home to Panama.

To be Continued in Part 2…

Why you ask? Because I joined the YMCA last week and that’s just how my loco brain and I roll, that’s why.

So my sister Maria is here for 5 weeks <woot!> and somehow the weekend before Thanksgiving when we were in NYC to see A Steady Rain, we decided that if you do something for 21 days in a row it becomes a habit….

And… that we should join a gym and swim laps for 21 days in a row when she comes down to visit because we could motivate each other.

Why? Ya… I don’t know… it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Now granted, so far it has worked. We are 4 days into our 21 and we even got up at 6:15 this morning in the frosty weather and swam. But now I have a question….

I am going to feel less tired and better and stronger and slimmer and… and … and buff-er soon… Right?

Right?

Because right now, all I wanna do (yes I have Cheryl Crow stuck in my head too) is crawl under my desk and snuggle the dust bunnies.

I haven’t slept well since we started and I am sore and tired and my throat tastes like chlorine and I hate getting up in the morning and I am sore and I am thinking that the massages and facials ($20 1 hr special running at our local Massage Envy right now with membership or $49 trial 1 hr massage) we are planning for this Weekend as rewards might not be worth it.

Okay so really I am just sniveling. I am totally going to accomplish this, but I also realized this morning that I love my sister. Not just because she is my sister, and she is awesome and smart and fun and gets me, but because we complain the same way.

Oh we are going to crush this mutha. Don’t get me wrong… but we are going to happily snivel about it and enjoy each other’s grumpy company each and every frost covered a** crack of dawn for the next 17 days and then ever M-W-F until she leaves for India after that.

And that is wonderful.

That and the fact that she only laughed at me a little when it took me a while to figure out why - at the YMCA - there were no Hanukkah or non-denominational decorations up to celebrate the season…  <duh!>

I am not sure if it is the season, or Max is just going through his “monsters under the bed” phase, but this is how our conversation went tonight as I was trying to get him settled down for bed. Lights were out and I was snuggling him.

Max: Mommy?
Me: mmm hummm
Max: Tonight, after I fall asleep will you move me into to your bed? Because if I feel that I am alone in my sleep, then I will dream of…umm… like… penguins that are mummies.
Me: Humm (I made a non comitial noise hoping he’d drop it) Settle down, close your eyes, snuggle up and go shluffies baby.
[after a minute]
Max: Mommy?
Me: mmm hummm
Max: I’m feeling concerned that this bed has monsters around it.
Me: You are feeling concerned? (where does he get this stuff!
Max: mmm hummm
Me: Well, this is MY house and no monsters can come in.
Max: Why not?
Me: ‘Cause I’m The Mommy
[Max is quiet for a minute while he thinks about this. Clearly "The Mommy" does have some mythical powers but he still had a question...]
Max: So if a monster came you would spray it with something and it would go away?
Me: Baby, I don’t really think there are monsters for real, but if one did come, yes I would spray it and it would run away. Now settle down, close your eyes, snuggle up and go ni-night.
[silence for a moment]
Max: What would you spray it with?
[sigh]
Me: Sparkle juice. (Sparkle juice? Really? What makes these things come out of my mouth?)
Max: Is sparkle juice like juice but with sparkles?
Me: Well it’s not like juice we would drink, but more like fairy juice with sparkles. It’s all pretty and happy so monsters don’t like it. So settle down, close your eyes, snuggle up and go sleepies.
Max: Mommy?
Me: What Max?
Max: I’m sweaty.
[I pull his duvet off]
Max: Thanks mommy that’s better! (Why does he sound so delightedly surprised?)
Me: You’re welcome baby, now settle down, close your eyes, snuggle up and go to sleep.
[another few moments of silence]
Max: Mommy?
Me: What Max? (still using a nice tone of voice but teeth clenched and about to lose the nice tone)
Max: I love you
[all annoyed wind taken out of my sails]
Me: I love you too baby, now settle down, close your eyes, snuggle up and go to sleep.

And shocker of all shockers?

That’s exactly what he did.

Wow! I usually don’t have this kind of luck, but I logged in to Etsy.com this morning to check the Treasury list and it was 2 minutes away from allowing new treasuries! Good thing I am dork enough to have a couple treasury collections all set and ready to go… so here is my Blueberry Lime Margarita pick for the day.

So since I am such a crappy blogger these days, I thought I’d start some easy… just get it done daily ideas to get me back in the game. Tuesdays, I am going to re-cap mah favorite tweet from the week. And yes, this week I am pathetic enough to post one of my own…

you know you’re a mom when it comes down to this: “Okay guys, I don’t care who did it. I just need to know if it is spit or pee.”

Ta-Dah!

This is my brain on drugs Friday…

Happy Birthday to my one and only brother!! (a wee bit belated)

My brother Jonah is a free spirit. He works on an island in the summers, taking out deep sea fishing charters, landscaping, house painting, and delivering pizzas. But then he spends the rest of the year traveling the world and surfing.

I know, sounds tempting doesn’t it?!

It definitely makes me crave dropping it all on occasion and homeschooling the boys on a beach near Cabo while running a backpacking hostel with thatched roofs…. Or …something like that. Not that I’ve given any thought to it or anything

His footloose and fancy free lifestyle does present a problem to me however when birthdays and Christmas/Hanukkah come around. Not - what to get the guy who has everything - but, what to get the guy who can basically pack up everything he owns into a backpack once a year. <gah!>

So his stocking has boxers, socks, deodorant, treats, toothbrush etc (yes, I play Mom in our family if you are wondering why I am in charge of my brother’s stocking) and his gifts generally run towards Borders or Barnes and Nobel gift cards, fleece, I would consider a good Leatherman or something except you can’t fly with them anymore, surf wax and other practical packables.

One year I made him a zipper pull for his backpack with a photo of my boys on one side and “Not all who wander are lost” on the other. Rather creative if I say so myself, but sadly not a good reusable gift idea.

He is also a huge Bukowski fan. (Did I mention he is an amazing writer? I am always amazed at how he can paint such an achingly bleak, harsh canvas with such simple words.) But this makes it difficult to pick books for him. I have already exhausted this quite helpful “so you like Bukowski, now what do I read” list on Amazon (okay so the list is really called “Bitter F**ks” but hey, this blog is supposed to be family friendly) and I am thinking the Twilight series might not be quite his speed….

So any suggestions?

Anyone?

Bueller?

Anyhoo, a couple of years ago when Quinn was a toddler, it occurred to me that the baby gates in our house kind of looked like jail bars. One day I took a picture of him while he was crying (mad because I took away the safety pin he had found under the refrigerator, not because he was in pain or sad) and holding on to the “bars”.

Later that night I downloaded the pictures and inspiration struck. “This would make a great t-shirt.” I thought. “Jonah could pack that it his backpack…. Hummm… he’s got to keep his street cred… I can’t make him a - World’s Best Uncle - t-shirt that’ll never make the cut…”

And from there the evil plan was formed…

So here is that first year’s Birthday t-shirt

I went with a Che inspired theme. It was a huge hit with the ladies apparently. Who knew!!

The next year Jonah sent us this photo

and I went with a Hawaiian Pin-up theme.

I think I either forgot or missed a year because in this one the boys are 3 and 5.

“Young Guns” just seemed appropriate at the time.

This year, Quinn decided to shave his head and I just couldn’t get the idea of a Buddha shirt out of my head.

so after bath one evening, two white pillow cases, an awesome Sanskrit like font and a

“Siddhartha Gautama” google search later, I had my inspiration for…

“Siddhartha Quinntama”. Now Captain Smarty Pants’ brother also has a birthday in this time frame, and it seemed like Max needed some representation this year, so for TA’s birthday I tried to come up with something for him. The first thing that came to mind was Maximus. So a quick gladiator google search came up with this

and an annoyed Max putting up with my photo shoot ideas came up with this

which resulted in “Maximus”

Happy Birthday Jonah!! I hope it was a good one!

And if anyone has any gifty ideas.. I really could use some ….

We’ve been nominated!!

Pecked by Ducks (yep that’s me) has been nominated by the Nickelodeon’s Parent’s Pick Awards as the best local blog for the Raleigh area. <garsh!> <blush>

Woohoo!

wait, let me say that again…

Woohoo!

I am beyond excited! Please vote for Pecked by Ducks. Voting will be open until July 15th and you can vote once a day.

May 17th was my sister Alia’s 30th birthday. She invited everyone to her farm in Vermont for a huge celebration/work weekend. I flew up to Boston on Thursday after work to join in the fun.

I met my baby sister Maria - she’s 24 now, so maybe I need to stop calling her ‘baby’…

<nah!>

my mom, and my mom’s sister, my aunt Sherri. We got Anna’s , argued over whether or not they could watch the season finale of Grey’s Anatomy, because I hadn’t seen the one before yet (it was on my Tivo at home) and packed for the morning.

In the morning we met one of my best buddies from Boston at the Deluxe Town Dinner (blue corn pancakes basically rock this world) for breakfast and then got on Route 2 for the drive west towards I91N.

Heading back to Brattleboro is always so surreal for me. It is familiar and different and I always think I am going to see someone I know, although it happens less and less these days. I lived in Bratt from the time I was 9 until I left for Boston at 23. That’s a large chunk of life. I learned to drive in this town, and navigating the familiar twists and turns created a feeling in me (good I think) that I can’t quite put my finger on.

Although I’d never been to Alia’s Farm, I’ve known The Bunker Farm since high school. My sister and her partners lease it from the father of one of my good friends from high school. I’ve swum in her pond, camped in her fields and gotten dropped off by my lacrosse coach in her front yard, to run my way back to school.

Driving up to The Bunker Farm as it is now was a strange sort of homecoming and it was quite an unexpected experience.

I live in my little suburban world with my minivan and corporate job. I shop at Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods and Target, take my kids to the pool in my development, and send them to the local public montessori school. Other than being way too far away from my family and friends in New England, in general I really love my life in NC. I am happy to be here, doing what I am doing for now.

But a lot of times I forget, however, that there is a whole other part of me that knows how to live another kind of life.

I know how to milk cows and collect eggs, how to cook with ingredients grown in the earth upon which I am standing. I know how to cook and bake for 30+ hungry workers, that you don’t multiply leavening or salt more than 2 or 3 times no matter how many multiples of the recipe you are making. I know how to weed and mulch and shake cream into butter. I know that carrying two 5 gallon buckets full of water is easier than carrying one and that baby pigs fed gallons of melted ice cream from a broken freezer, will go coocoo bananas for an afternoon. I know how to chop the head off of and pluck a chicken. I know how to direct groups of people working together on a project, and that if it frosts overnight, pouring a little bit of water on each plant that would not otherwise survive the frost before the sun comes up it will save it. I know how to can foods and what a root cellar is for. I know how to darn socks, why layering is warmer and how to do it. I know how to chop wood, stack it so it won’t fall down and bank a fire for the night. I even know how to card and spin wool, how to weave and make braided rugs and have pooped in an outhouse.

I know, you’re shocked right? Actually, I kind of am too. I do love and miss many of the aspects of farm and small town life. It’s just not what I am choosing for myself right now. And also, it is mostly impossible to survive financially farming these days which is a truly sad testament to the state of our world.

But being on my sister’s farm for the weekend I remembered some very interesting things that I had forgotten. I really do miss parts of that kind of life. The feeling at the end of a well spent day. The satisfaction of a meal grown and cooked right there. The feeling of community when you have people whom you have known for 26 years and who know what you looked like on your first day of school come for dinner. That I am super competent and strong and smart and capable. That I love being a mom and that I truly believe I need to change some things about my boy’s upbringing.

Specifically that in general they need to eat more dirt.

Between 30 and 40 people showed up each day to celebrate Alia’s birthday and to work. My brother Jonah, friends, neighbors, family and even some customers who stop now and then to buy milk, eggs and produce showed up, rolled up their sleeves and pitched in.

It was incredible! I was fun and hard work, and a sweet wonderful reminder for me. Am I going to move to a farm anytime soon? No. But it has helped me to remember some important things I had forgotten, helped me reshape my summer plans (I am bringing the boys back this summer) and given me one hellofva great weekend.

Thanks Lee, and Happy Birthday!!

Captain Smarty Pants sent me an article the other day called “Mothers’ talk is key to kids’ social skills, study says” so of course I started worrying and wondering if we provide enough emotional cues for our boys. Then I remembered something.

Last Sunday was Mother’s Day. Captain Smarty Pants had an ultimate frisbee tournament on Saturday and Sunday (4 games each day) so I was coming up with things for us to do.

We decided to go to the library, Target, out to lunch and to REI to buy a tent, when Quinn said, “Mommy, I want to shaved my head.”
“You want to shave your head?”
“Yes.”
“Ummm…Ok…why?”
“I want to shaved my head.”
“All the way to skin or you want a buzz cut?”
“All the way to skin.”
“Well…how about we try a buzz cut and you see how you like it and if it not short enough then we can just shave more off.”
“Ok.”

So we went to Snip-its and asked the lady to give him a buzz cut.

This is how the first draft went, but it wasn’t enough.

When we were done with this he hopped down and said, with a big grin on his face, “Now I look like Michael.”

Wait for it…

Yep… Michael is the child in Quinn’s class who is going through chemo.

For a moment I couldn’t breath. Tears stung my eyes.

I am beyond amazed by the sweet, innocent empathy of my delicious child and I am tearing up again just thinking about it. I am not sure if he understands what Michael is going through or even the sweetness of the empathy in his little heart, but I’m so glad that instead of going with my initial impulse of “No…why?” I said “Okay…why?”

Side Note : Thanks Mom for for letting me pierce my nose and dye my hair blue and black and red and cut it A-line and wear combat boots to my high school graduation etc. all without blinking. I really appreciate your example of calm acceptance right now!

So anyway, I guess I have to now conclude that we aren’t doing too bad of a job encouraging our children’s emotional intelligence.

(Note: Names have been changed to protect those who may not want to be mentioned.)