sugar candied violet

OK. So, Noni's Birthday Whirl has gone really well... so far. She is so positive and happy and exuberant! We had the family party tonight. Oma and Papa went out to eat with our family. Noni got to choose the restaurant. She choose Old Country Buffet. Yack. But it's her birthday, and in our house, you can choose the place to eat and no one can say no. So... I think her night was sent over the top when the O.C. Bee was there. She ran up to The Bee and hugged him/her. It was like a reunion of long lost soul mates. I thought it was slightly frightening, but I am afraid of people in masks and body puppet costumes. I kept my distance, smiling and waving from a good 10 feet away. Then I got the giggles thinking about The O.C.Bee with O.C.D. Poor bee gets hugged by sticky, messy little kids who step on his/her shoes - and then runs to the bathroom for an antenna washing ritual...

This weekend is the big cake bash with all of the buddies. August is coming, too. I'll post pictures. We'll all be as fancy as we can be, I guess. Anyone have any good games for Kindergarten parties? Remember, it's a co-ed party. And, no, it's not a sleep-over!

The day has gone great so far but Noni has had way too much sugar. All of my kids have had too much sugar. Every child in a 20 block radius is hopped up on sugar, so calm it is not. My head is buzzing, my heart is pounding - I am feelin' the stress, and the results of too much sugar. So, to escape and kind of talk myself down a little, I did a little blog gazing. (It's like virtual yoga!) I stumbled upon this at Hiccup's blog, and gave it a whirl. Totally self-indulgent on my daughters birthday, I know. But heck, I can celebrate the fact that I carried this child into the world and have managed not to wreck her - yet.

Here's a question to all of you out there that are dealing with children and Halloween Candy - do you let your kids be the boss of their own candy or do you ration it? Was it the candy policy the same when you were a child, or are you doing things differently than your parents did when it comes to the Halloween Candy Control?

you are violet #EE82EE

Your dominant hues are red and blue. You're confident and like showing people new ideas. You play well with others and can be very influential if you want to be. Your saturation level is lower than average - You don't stress out over things and don't understand people who do. Finishing projects may sometimes be a challenge, but you schedule time as you see fit and the important things all happen in the end, even if not everyone sees your grand master plan. Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

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what kind of cake would you like, noni?

When asked that question, Noni replied,

"Why, I'd like the kind of cake that they have at weddings. Only, on top, it should just be me."

And so begins my quest for a birthday-wedding-bride-only cake. Wish me luck.

And wish Noni a very happy birthday!

ghost in the bungalow: final chapter

By now, I had gotten pretty used to having a few extra "people" in my house. I heard new noises and didn't think twice. I passed the guy on the attic steps and was no longer afraid that he was going to grab me by the ankles as I gingerly stepped past him. We were all working things out...

Then, one dark evening in November, I was out running errands with baby Via. I returned home to our tiny bungalow with my arms full of baby and groceries and bags of various size and weight. As I struggle with my key in the door, I knew - they were here.

When I walked into my dark home that night, it was like walking into a crowded party. I flicked the lights on. No one was there. No bride. No father-in-law. No man from the steps. But still, that feeling of crowding would not leave. I set down my bags and plucked Via from her baby seat. I stood in the middle of my living room floor with all of the lights blazing, and I said, out loud,

OK. If you've got something that you want me to know, tell me now. Please, don't scare me. If you are just here for a visit, well, some of you are going to have to go. It's just too crowded in this tiny house for all of us.

Then, every light in my house flickered on and off one time and the house was peaceful again.

I never saw the bride or the man on the stairs again. We moved to our new home shortly after this event.

The ghosts didn't follow us to our new house, but I still smell Joe's cigarette smoke occasionally. And I know when my grandparents have come for a visit because there is always a distinctive smell - baked chicken and cookies or grapefruit and aftershave.

To be honest, I kind of miss the excitement, but I'm glad to have my house to myself.
And I'm happy to know that I am still be watched over by my family.

randomness

I was tagged awhile ago by Bethany, and I've really put off answering. So, I finally decided that I needed to step up to the plate and let you all have it. Here's how it goes:

THE GAME:
"Here's how you play, once you've been tagged. You have to write a blog with 10 weird, random things, facts or habits about yourself. At the end you choose 10 people to be tagged, listing their names and why you chose them to be tagged. Don't forget to leave them a comment "You're It!" and to read your blog. You can't tag the person who tagged you."

MY RANDOMLY STRANGE THOUGHTS

I had a fabulous gap in my front teeth until I was 12 years old. Then, the orthodontist stuck braces in my mouth, and now I have teeth that are unnaturally squashed together. I wish that I still had the gap in my front teeth. Instead I now have a wire that is holding my two front teeth together.

I don’t own tennis shoes. Pathetic. I have a kicky pair of orange Chuck Taylor low tops, but that's it. I have a wide range of fabulous high heels...

I love to drink orange juice when I eat a chocolate chip cookie

I am afraid of the dark I used to vault from my bedroom door into the darkness of my childhood bedroom. Now, I must retain some sense of "mom's in control - there's no monsters in this house - blah blah blah." The dark totally freaks me out! I lay in bed solving random scenarios about escaping from the bad guys in my dark house. That's not just weird. I fear that might be nuts.

I see ghosts – and that freaks people out. I don't usually see ghosts in the darkness. I usually see them during the day. I kind of like it...

My high school boy friend sent me a ‘promise ring’ in the mail I did not marry him. I did keep the ring. Then I lost it. I wasn't sad. It was tiny.

I like the smell of old cars. I mean, I really love that dusty, old, warm smell that only comes from an old car. It's the combination of dust and pleather and warm sunny days. I like to close my eyes and imagine who bought the car and what they were like when they felt so proud to drive around in it. Old cars, old houses and grave yards - love 'em.

I have a Huck Finn talent for getting people to paint my house. I love redecorating. I hate painting. Luckily, my mom and my best friend can't sit around and watch me putz around with the color on the walls thing. They jump up and grab the brush and take over. We're all happy!

I took bowling for my P.E. credit in college. I barely passed. I'm not a great bowler. Actually, I'm not much of an athlete. I sure like to run around and play, however.

I truly believe that any kind of nut in any food totally ruins it – the food not the nut. I seriously do not understand why people put nuts in cookies or brownies or sweet breads. Why, people, why? I sometimes fake a nut allergy just so I can get the stuff with out nuts. That, and people take pity on others with allergies. I don't have real allergies. Just fake ones.

I didn’t like Terms of Endearment – couldn’t even watch the whole thing one time. I think this is one of the worst movies ever made. Sorry.

I have a reverse body image – I think I am thinner than I actually am, and I’m often surprised by my reflection in the mirror. This makes it really hard to go on any sort of diet - denial and ignorance. That's my newest mantra. Fat and happy. Has a nice ring to it.

I have deep, abiding love for Q-tips Oh, my. Oh, my goodness. Oh. yeah. yes. oh, yes. yes. YES. YES!

So, now I have to tag some folks:
Sue @ Navel Gazing At Its Finest
Chris & Rikki @ Chris and Rikki + E3
The Rotten Correspondent @ Confessions of A Rotten Correspondent
emilyruth @ i wonder sometimes
Julia @ Because I Knew You...
Kelsey @ Our College Life

ghosts in the bungalow: the bride returns

It was a dark and stormy night.
No, really. I WAS a dark and stormy night.
It was the perfect Halloween night - rainy and cold.
The moon was almost full, but not quite.
The trees were void of their leaves, and in the
moon light, they had a perfect Poe-like quality.
Like bony black fingers that were scratching at the
wispy clouds, never getting what they were reaching
for.

As I got ready for bed, I thought,

"This would be a great nights for ghosts."

In our lovely little bungalow, our bed was situated in our room in such a way that I could look directly down the hallway if I lay on my left side.

That night, I lay on my left side.

It was well passed midnight when I woke up. I don't know why I woke up. There wasn't really a sound that woke me. It's just that suddenly I wasn't asleep anymore.

As I lay looking down the hallway, it began to rain. With a giant bang, the thunder struck. I realized that I couldn't see anything in the dark. The moon had been covered by the storm clouds.

There was a flash of lightening. And there she was.

The bride.

The woman that our little bungalow had been built for was standing in the hallway, and I was looking right at her.

I wasn't afraid.

She walked down the hall and into the bedroom.

She was beautiful. Not the scary, undead bride that some movies like to depict as ghosts. My bride was beautiful, pristine. White dress. Lace veil. Dark hair twisted up in a demure little bun at the base of her creamy neck.

She smiled at me patiently as she slowly leaned down to look me in the eye.

Her breathe was warm - surprisingly - She was now only a few inches from my face.
And she said to me,

"You should put a side board in the dining room. A side board and a mirror on the wall. That's what it was designed for."

"Ok," I said.

Then the thunder. A flash of lightening, and she was gone.

The storm ended shortly after she left. The moon shone brightly in our bedroom for most the night.

The bride never returned again.

I put a small table and a mirror against the wall in the dining room. I had to. That's what it was designed for.

august for noni

Noni is in love.

It is true love.

She talks about him all of the time.

His name is August. His is 'beautiful' and he is 'her friend that is a special boy.'

Noni met August in Kindergarten. To her credit, he is a very hip and groovey young man. He is destined to be a rock star. Or a flight attendant. Or a lazy bum who mooches off of his mother for his entire life while he coaches mini-golf at the rec center.

He has shoulder length blonde hair and looks a lot like the boys in the Polo ads. And she loves him.

She came home from school the other day - oh, I feel like a traitor - and told me that she had a big secret. She told me that she had kissed August under the slide.
When I got over the suspicion that "under the slide" was a euphemism for something that it wasn't, I had myself a little sit down talk with my 5 year old daughter.

So. I said. You've been kissing boys on the play ground...?

Not just any boy, Mom. It was August.

Oh. I see. Where did you kiss him?

On the mouth.

No. Oh. No. Noni, I meant, where were you when you kissed him?

Oh, we were under the slide.

Under the slide. I see. Who's idea was this, this kissing ... thing?

I was pretty certain it was his. Boys can not be trusted, you know.

Oh, Mom.

Note tssk and huffy.

We both like each other. We talked about it. We decided now would be a good time to kiss.

Oh God. I am in trouble.

Should I be happy that we are talking about his sort of thing? Yes, I probably should be happy that we have open lines of communication. But right now, I am not happy. I am mortified.

I am also concerned that yesterday Noni brought a note home from August's parents. Could they please have Noni's phone number? August would like to call her to invite her for a sleep over.

AHHHHHHHHH!

ghosts in the bungalow: the attic stairs

After my husband's dad came for his first "visit," I just couldn't shake the feeling of not being alone in my own home. I hadn't seen anyone, yet, but I checked out every window and door each time I passed, determined to prove to myself that nobody was really there. Soon, I relaxed and let it go. I chalked up the nervous feelings to being a new mom alone in a new house at night. It wasn't long until I'd forgotten all about that creepy feeling.

Then one night, when Daddyman was at work and I was home alone with Via, it happened.

I was trying to find the double boiler - I don't know why I thought I needed it to make dinner for myself and a 5 month old baby, but I was absolutely distracted with the search. While Via sat in her high chair in the middle of the kitchen, happily clanging spoons and cooing, I pulled everything out of the kitchen cupboards. No double boiler. I searched the shelves in the basement laundry room - no double boiler. Then, I remembered the box of kitchen stuff that was still in the attic.

I flung open the door that lead to the attic stairs. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, and I was ready to bound up the steps when I looked up and saw him. I gasped and stopped dead in my tracks. He was just sitting on the attic steps, behind the closed door, listening to the lives of a young mom and her baby.

Just listening.

He was sitting about 5 steps up from the bottom, with his elbows on his knees. We were almost face to face before I realized that he was there. But, of course, he wasn't really there. I could see the steps right through him.

We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Then, he smiled at me. A sort of sad, lonely smile. It was not an apology for being in my house or an excuse, just a smile.

When I finally caught my breath, I slammed the door closed. I pulled the dining room table in front of the door. I know that a table will not keep a ghost out of the main floor, but the idea of stopping this man from being present in my house was really important at the time.

I ran to the kitchen and scooped Via out of her high chair. I was holding her and crying and then I hear the lock on the front door click.

"Oh, God. Now what?"

It was Daddyman who walked through the door. Reasonable, calm, logical Daddyman. I fell into his giant man embrace and sobbed. When I told him the story of the man on the stairs, he didn't laugh. He didn't look at me like I'd lost my mind. He just held me.

We left the table where it was for a couple of days - in front of the door to the attic steps.

We left it in front of the attic door until one sunny Sunday in October.

I needed to find something that we hadn't yet unpacked, and I was certain that it was in the attic. Rick was raking leaves out side. The windows were open. I could hear him talking back to the game announcers on the portable radio. I knew that he could hear me, and would be inside in 10 seconds if I shouted to him for help.

I took a deep breath. I could do this. I am a grown up, after all. He probably wasn't there, anyway. I have such an over active imagination... I was so tired the night I saw him sitting on my attic steps... I'm certain I just imagined him being there...

I opened the door.

The man was there. Again. Just listening.

He looked at me. And smiled.

This time, I smiled back.

I took a deep breath and said, "Excuse me. I need to get something up there."

He leaned to one side to let me pass. (Of course, there wasn't any need for him to lean to one side. I could have simply walked right through him.)

We continued this sort of polite relationship of smiling and leaning and passing and saying "thank you" and "excuse me" until I moved out of that little Bungalow on Lincoln Avenue. As it turned out, I was sort of comforted by his presence. Knowing that someone else is home when you feel lonely late at night with a brand new baby when you're home all alone...