Mom Dilemma
In my monthly Drumbeats article, I wrote, in part "...Busy as we are with Olympics, Ice Dogs hockey and our upcoming Mall Rat Scavenger Hunt, we added another monthly Rainbow get-together – Potlatch Parties! Although Nikki’s potlatch idea never really took off...it did launch an interest among the girls...Jax drew pictures, Lor made a birthday card for her teacher, Fluffy made paper crowns, while Jo attached patches to her vest, Vi knitted a poncho, and I cut out tiny paper doll clothes. It was a great way to wind down from the busy weekend, help our kids with their projects, enjoy grown-up company, and get a few tasks out of the way at the same time. Efficiency and satisfaction rates are high this month..."

Whenever moms say they are too busy to join us and people ask how we have time to do all these things, that's how. We just squeeze 'em in wherever we can.

Our stay-at-home counterparts think we're neglectful of our children and selfish for putting our careers first. Pfft! What career? It's a job, a means to an end, the "end" being food, clothing and shelter. Oh yeah, and saving for my kids' college education. On top of my "day job," I cook, clean the house, do the laundry; I've sewn Halloween costumes, baked cupcakes for the class on the kids' birthdays, cooked for their school potlucks; I've been soccer team mom, basketball team mom, room mom, banner maker, party planner; I've read to them since before they were born; I check their homework; I go to all their games and most practices; we ride bikes together, play tennis, picnic, do science experiments, play with Legos & Barbies, cook, sing, and talk about everything; I take them to school every morning and I kiss them goodnight, every night. I still wish I could spend more time with them!

It's true, I don't have time to volunteer at school on a daily basis. I haven't created elaborate scrapbooks for future reference. My house isn't very clean, and my cooking skills suck. When my kids are grown and off on their own, it won't be the memory of a clean house or a really good pot roast that makes us smile. I hope we'll have much more than that. And we won't have to look at a scrapbook to remind us of the good times we shared; the memories will be forever etched in our hearts and minds.

Drinking Air
I love the way Scooter and Fluffy describe things. We had this really GOOD Italian bottled water (can't remember what it was called, but it must have been expensive since we had it at that extremely overpriced restaurant in Las Vegas). Scooter loved it and was trying to describe it. "It's like drinking something that isn't even there. You can't even feel it going down. It's so smooth. It's like it's invisible!" I love that!

I Can See Your Underwear
Scooter keeps bugging me for boxers. Since I don't have guy parts, I don't really know this, but I figure they should have a little support, especially when you're a kid running and jumping all over the place and all. So we compromised that he could wear them to sleep, but he has to wear regular briefs during the day. He loves wearing them. Loves the freedom and the cool breeze, I guess.

We went to Target to buy more this weekend. He was so embarrassed to be seen with them. He tried to hide them in his jacket. When we got to the checkout, he was all embarrassed again, and the checker, who was young and cute, told him, "Oh, you don't have to be embarrassed," and Scooter was so embarrassed, he practically crawled into the bins we were buying. He's so cute. He runs around the house nekkid, but can't be seen carrying a package of boxers.

The Way It Should Be
It was a pretty laid back weekend. Although we did have a few things to do, it wasn't the usual mania.

Fluffy had a swimming refresher and Lindsay's bowling birthday party to go to on Saturday. Scooter and I ran errands and watched TV.

On Sunday, Fluffy had softball team picture-taking and a late-afternoon practice. (She also had a basketball game, but we skipped it this week in order to do our other activities.)

In between those softball obligations, we went to the Cheyenne Olympics at Victor, where our tribe ran the wheelbarrow race. It was a very small turnout this year. We had our traditional Rainbow potluck. That is one thing that we never skimp on - the food! I missed doing the obstacle course this year, but it was also nice to relax a little this time. The obstacle course is such a huge event. I guess the fact that no one did it this year tells me how crazy we were to volunteer to do it for the last two years. Anyway, this was our last year of Olympics, since we are moving up to Trailblazers next year. I had really hoped that Fluffy and I could do all the Olympic events together, finally, since we never got to do them in the past because of the hectic obstacle course. But Guido brought Fluffy back from picture-taking so late that she ran off with her friend Thea and I didn't see her all afternoon. Boo hoo!

When we got home, Scooter begged Guido to set up the Playstation (I don't know how to do it), and we did Dance Dance Revolution until I couldn't stand up anymore. Boy, that's fun!

Then we went to Target to buy huge plastic bins so I could continue tidying up the house. It's an ongoing project. On top of that, one night I tickled Scooter, and he fell on me, and we both fell into one of the bins and broke it, so I needed a replacement.

I cooked dinner, for a change. I finally discovered how to make the broccoli taste good. Instead of cooking the chicken and pasta and throwing the broccoli in afterwards, I browned the garlic in sizzling oil, tossed the broccoli in, and then tossed in the chicken and pasta. The broccoli tasted like garlic. Yum!

Before the kids went to bed, the four of us played marathon Uno.

What a nice weekend.

Blabbermouths
My kids are always telling anyone who will listen, "My mom is 44." I really don't mind, because there are a lot of older parents these days, and at least I don't look 44. But I really hate it when they say, "My mom weighs 180 pounds." (which is NOT TRUE)

Paper Rainbow
Looking back now, I have had this obsession with paper for a long time. I just didn't know it. I also have a lot more paper now, along with all the accoutrements, like pens, stickers, punches, scissors, tape, glue, how-to books, and more bins to hold all the stuff.

I never thought about it until now, but I realized that I've always enjoyed doing stuff with paper. When I was a kid, I loved making paper doll clothes. Never mind the dolls. I just wanted to design clothes. So I thought I must like clothes.

I also always loved writing. Not just writing in the sense of creating stories. I actually like the act of handwriting. When I was in elementary and middle school, my friends and I would practice and compare our handwriting. (I took a lot of grief when I mentioned that at work recently.)

A few years ago, out of boredom, I started making little notecards and paper fan pins, and eventually I sold them in stores like Papyrus and Card de A. It was nice to sit in front of the TV in the evenings and make pretty things.

Then I met Guido and who had time to make stupid cards and pins?

Then this whole scrapbooking thing started. Part of me wanted to get creative again. But I never had the time or space or money to take on something as intimidating as a scrapbook, so Scooter's and Fluffy's pictures have accumulated in boxes since 1994.

In the meantime, I'd make little birthday cards and birthday party invitations, and everyone loved them.

Yes, this is a long story, but there really is an ending. Which might really be a beginning.

Well, now this scrapbooking craze has taken on a new shape and it is called paper crafting. All of a sudden the thing that I love to do has a name!

Last week I started cutting out these little shapes and stuck them on notecards, and my co-workers loved them, and they even asked if they can buy them! I'm not sure if I want to sell them to co-workers, but I have amassed a pile of cards and I'm not sure what to do with them, besides give them away.

I pounded the pavement years ago selling my notecards and pins, and while it earned me a little extra cash, it was definitely not worth the investment. However, with the internet, I wonder if there's an easy way to get these cards out there. But I don't want to deal with legalities and taxes and copyrights and licenses. I just want to make cards.

I know hardly anyone reads this site. But if anyone wants a free card, please write to me in a comment with your address and I will mail you one.

And this is the end. Or the beginning.

The Paper Rainbow.

The Local Dump
I don't think I grew up poor or deprived of anything, but I've always seemed to hoard things, from the time I was a kid, whether it was socks or stickers or money. My stash kind of thinned out as I moved from home to college and on to several apartments in different cities. I travelled fairly light. I didn't (and still don't) own any real furniture or appliances.

When we moved from Gardena to Torrance seven years ago, we went from 1200 to 1800 square feet, and I just didn't have enough stuff to fill the new space. But now, oh my god, there isn't enough room to move. I've invested a small fortune in bins, which are filled with all kinds of crap, all in anticipation of ... what? I dunno. I have loads of pens and paper, toys, clothes, boxes, spare bins, shoes, purses, bags. However, I haven't saved anything of REAL value, like money, or even food and water in case of an emergency. Am I crazy or what? Anyway, this paper hoarding in particular leads to something else. Read the next entry.

Come Out with Your Hands Up
George the Plumber came by one day to replace our ailing water heater. I had to swing by home to let him in the house (I was at work). I pulled up on our street and there was a police car, halfway on the street and halfway in our driveway. I parked across the street and went running up to our driveway. Apparently, this police car had been cruising our neighborhood, and when the cop saw this plain, white van backed up to our garage door, he thought it was a burglar, and he greeted George the Plumber with his gun drawn!

It's nice to see our Torrance police keeping an eye on things.

The Year in Review
I wrote a little newsletter, printed about 80 copies, and never sent it out. So no one got to read this, except you, my three faithful readers:

Greetings from So Cal!

I think the house is still where I left it this morning, and my car hasn't floated out of the parking lot yet, so I'll assume life is still good.

Guido is building rockets and bombs at PatriotMissles.com (oops, was that a secret?) and Wild Flower is still conjuring up lies and half-truths for Pen Maker. Really, in this industry, Pen Maker's claims are the most straightforward and honest because management is so paranoid about lawsuits. So buy Pen Maker instead of Sanford (Sharpie - blech!) or Pilot (Dr. Grip - boo!) and maybe I'll get raise this year!

Scooter is a fifth grader and enjoying an extended soccer season on two teams this year. He also plays basketball. And he's pretty smart, too. He's one of those guys who doesn't put in a lot of effort and makes good but not stellar grades. He'd be awesome if he had some follow-through, but considering the gene pool, we're not expecting much.

Fluffy is in the second grade and discovering that reading is a good thing, now that we've finally wised up and stopped force-feeding her all the books that Scooter read and let her choose her own girlie books instead (e.g., Lizzie McGuire - gag!).

Fluffy & Wild Flower are still doing fun stuff together in Rainbow Maidens (Indian Guides), like tie-dying T-shirts, ice skating, Christmas caroling, and camping. Whoda thought we'd actually enjoy sleeping on the ground under a thin sheet of nylon?

During spring break, Wild Flower, Scooter & Fluffy took a road trip to Gold Country. The kids were tortured with visits to museums and old mining towns, then rewarded with a tour of the Jelly Belly factory and all the spaghetti-flavored jelly beans they wanted.

Fluffy had started referring to her Hawaii grandma as "that lady in Hawaii," so we made a long-overdue trip home this summer. Scooter caught a fish and both kids learned how to make fire at the Polynesian Cultural Center. We got lost in a gigantic pineapple-shaped maze. We ate Zippy's chili and zip-paks.

After spending almost a year in a nursing home, Guido's dad finally went to that big mah jong table in the sky. It turned our holiday season a little sideways, but the Bunny Clan recovered enough to meet in Las Vegas for a post-Christmas, pre-New Year diversion. We made a detour to Hoover Dam on the drive home, just to make sure it's holding up in anticipation of the big rains.

Hope you're all happy, healthy, and enjoying life to the fullest. And if you see flames leaping out of your microwave oven, your kid might be conducting a science experiment!

Need Bigger Allowance
I was paying for my stuff at Target and Scooter ran off. I found him typing on a computer keyboard. I asked him what he said doing, and he said with a laugh, "Applying for a job." He's ten. I wish he could stay little and cute forever!

Talent Stalkers
Just today at lunch, Vickey and I were talking about how we have been approached by talent scouts quite a few times now (for our kids, not ourselves, of course) - at the mall, at Target, at McDonald's. Well, tonight someone called our house and asked specifically about Scooter. How in the world did someone get Scooter's name and our home phone number? I'm kind of annoyed that someone would actually track him down like that. Did someone get a copy of our school yearbook or the soccer directory? I don't think I like this.

And what's the deal with all the talent scouts in Torrance these days? I have to admit, when I was looking for a job, I answered an ad to be a talent scout, as I felt I had a lot of access to kids since I had one in public school and one in preschool, and we spent all our weekends at youth sporting events or Chuck E. Cheese birthday parties. So I can understand why we run into scouts at the same kinds of places I would have scouted. But I am still incredulous at the appeal of Torrance. (Did I mention that the Spy Kid and his brother live in our general neighborhood and went to the same school as my kids? We've run into them at the mall, 7-eleven, Target. They're in middle school now.)

Turkey Tournament
Scooter played in his first select soccer tournament and it was fantastic! We missed the first day, as we were driving back from San Francisco. The team lost that day. But we won both games on Saturday and advanced to the semifinals on Sunday. We lost that game, but all the guys got medals for placing fourth overall. Not bad. The coach said that's the furthest a select team of his has ever gone.

I convinced Penmaker to help sponsor our team, and they paid for duffel bags for the entire team! I had to write a proposal to justify the expense. In theory, this bit of advertising has the potential to reach thousands of people over the next six months. Not bad for a few hundred dollars. And it promotes goodwill for the company.

Our coach is funny. At each game, he had all the boys line up their duffel bags along the sideline with the Penmaker logo facing the other team (the logo is on both ends).

The boys also got really nice logoed jackets (parents paid for). They look like a real team, and a fairly affluent one at that, with the matching jackets and sports bags.

Scooter Select
Little Scooter Bunny made the soccer select team! This has been his dream since he first heard of Select in his first year in U10 back in 3rd grade. A few of his friends had gotten their phone calls, and we figured Scooter didn't make it again. A couple of days later we got the call. I kind of wonder if he was the second round draft, but oh well, he's still on the team, and he's going to work his butt off until the end of the school year! This is a big deal for our family, because soccer is both kids' favorite sport, and Scooter has wanted to join a club team for years, but (1) we can't afford it and (2) we can't afford it. Oh, that and the fact that Scooter doesn't have that killer instinct the other club players have. It's also a big deal, because now, instead of soccer season ending this weekend, we play until the end of the school year! Wahoo!!! This soccer mom is ecstatic!

I downloaded the Kicker this morning and found out that Scooter's regular team, the Blue Bandits, got a good sportsmanship award. We really do have a good team. The boys are very nice (the Select boys are not as soft and sweet, which is probably one reason why they made Select, but that's another story), and they play well as a team. Our coach is knowledgeable, positive and encouraging. I just wish he and the parents were a little tighter. We had a great year when the Rapids took first place. We could have had a fun year like that again, even though our guys are only in 3rd right now. (There's still the possibility of going to the regional playoffs if our guys can fend off the Flamehawks this weekend.)

I also got a few of my pictures on the website (www.region14-ayso.com) and in the newsletter (The Kicker)!

Soccer mania continues!

Bears for Charity
The Rainbows (all 23 of `em plus a few siblings and one spouse) met at the Downtown Disney Build-a-Bear store. Each girl made a bear, added her own touch by dressing it up (mom paid), and included a note to the anonymous child who will receive the bear this Christmas. Isn't that nice?

Fluffy and I were the event hosts (hostesses? too many s's). Since the girls would be going home with basically nothing but a good feeling in their hearts (Vickey and I took the bears with us to wrap with festive bows), I bought patches for each girl to put on her vest. Then Fluffy and I gave out little scrapbook kits so each girl can make a memory book and picture frame to her liking. I spent a fortune on those pens, paper, stickers, and patches.

Vickey, Janet & I got a lot of stares and a few comments as we carried thirteen bear boxes back to the car. It looked like we had some really spoiled little girls.

We met the rest of the crew back at Tortilla Joe's (an offshoot of Joachim Splichal's Patina empire, I think). The food was pretty good. I hate that they automatically added an 18% gratuity to our bill. They could have treated us like shit, and still get an above-average tip.

The girls had a great time playing in the mall. Fluffy adores Thea, but doesn't get to see her very often, so she was beyond excited. Overall, it was a very nice outing.

Mean Girls
Fluffy's been having trouble with some really mean girls at school. I always worried about Scooter getting beat up (based on my co-workers telling me that every boy has to get into at least one fistfight in his life to prove he's not a wuss), but those girls are the ones we need to worry about. One actually said to Fluffy, "I'm going to sock you," and then hit her a bunch of times. And the verbal abuse is worse. So after our endless coaching to Fluffy to steer very clear of these girls and to not get cornered in the bathroom, Scooter said, "When I grow up, I want only sons. Girls are too much trouble." You said it, boy!

Is that a Drinking Game?
A bunch of fifth graders got in trouble during recess for playing spin the bottle. Heh heh heh!

Thankful for (slurp) Bibs
When Scooter was little, he drooled a LOT. I was afraid he would have to wear a bib to kindergarten. His preschool class did these little turkeys for Thanksgiving where each tail feather has something that they're thankful for. Funny preschool teachers put Mom, Dad, Gerber Graduates and Bibs on Scooter's turkey feathers. Ha ha.

The Hostess with the Leastest
Fluffy always cracks me up. She was pretending to be Lizzie McGuire and I was her friend. She was throwing a pretend party, but somehow I ended up bringing the chips and soda, calling all the pretend friends, providing the music since she only owns one CD, and I even had to give her a gift. In the meantime, we had put the real tent back out to dry out more, and we were lying on the ground looking at clouds, but I guess they weren't moving fast enough for the little fluffball. She got all mad and said, "I'm not enjoying this party. And YOU'RE the host!"

Cheesewillikers
We're always being approached by talent scouts about Scooter. Fluffy finally got her turn when we were at McDonalds after their soccer games. She was looking especially cute, in her pink soccer shirt and ponytails tied with pink ribbons. Unlike Scooter, she really wants to go to the screen test, but she has a basketball game at the same time. I would love it if she were in a commercial or two; however, since it will probably interfere with her school and my work, it probably won't work out anyway.

Mommie Dearest Day Care
Everyone's telling me we need to rent "Daddy Day Care." In the meantime, I started telling Scooter & Fluffy some of my own day care stories.

One of the first ladies we visited watched a handful of little boys, and had a nice set-up in a back room that looked out onto the big, grassy backyard with friendly trees along the perimeter. She was a very pleasant, caring, Christian woman, but she was also really, really fat, and when she escorted us to the door, probably twenty feet away, she choked and wheezed and struggled, and had to sit down halfway there.

There's the woman who came highly recommended by a co-worker. When I called her, she grunted in reply, "I don't do dat no more," and hung up. I couldn't pronounce her name anyway.

There's one who lives really close to our school who was recommended by the child care referral service. She had about fourteen kids running in and out of the house, no one was doing homework, kids were fighting and screaming, and cigarette smoke poured into the house from some guy smoking on the back porch right outside the screen door. I think she still watches kids these days, but not mine!

Guido wanted to go with a Chinese lady in Redondo Beach who didn't speak any English. I think he was impressed because she washed each kid's bottom in a tub of water when she changed their diaper.

The Montessori school was absolutely spotless. It was the middle of the day, when the school should have been noisy and cluttered. They literally had no playground and no toys. Later on someone told me that the whole Montessori philosophy began as a way to take care of large numbers of poor orphans in war-torn Europe, hence the minimalist (sparse, bare, sad, depressing) surroundings.

The most memorable one was Paula from Hermosa Beach. Her house was a dump. Dirty dishes were piled up higher than my head all over the kitchen; exposed outlets and light switches were within children's reach. She took us outside to where the kids played, a slab of concrete with pieces of wood piled up unsteadily and covered by piece of cheap artificial turf. Then, maybe to impress me, she said she had had a couple of beers for lunch!

For Scooter, I finally settled on Crystal. She had a huge dragonfly tattooed on her boob. I later found out her son is ADD and so is she! We moved on to a day care center.

Fluffy went to "Grandma Ruth." Grandma Ruth watched fourteen kids (just like the Towers woman). She also kept an eye on her husband Clark, who had had a mild stroke, and her grown son who was disabled and brain-damaged due to a brain tumor he had when he was a teenager. Ruth and Clark had spent all their life savings on court costs trying to gain custody of their grandson (offspring of the brain-damaged son and his drug-addicted ex-girlfriend), and therefore she watched all these kids, even though she was about seventy! Poor Fluffy was left to play by herself in her playpen for hours at a time ("she's such a good baby, you can just leave her and she plays by herself"). One day I went to pick her up and found her under the couch. Fluffy moved to a day care center as soon as they had an opening.