so, in case you missed it? summer

of course, if you are at all unclear on the subject, you most definitely do not live at my house. Here, the mornings be loud and the afternoons be bitchy, and periodically the Eldest will wander over and explain that he is oh, so very tired. You know, he'll say confidingly, the Gigs* woke me up an hour - no, two hours - early this morning. Which is to say that, his brother woke up at his internally cuckoo-clocked hour of 6:something wee am, rather than letting the Eldest snooze until 7ish.

My parenting position on this sort of thing is, officially, that there are many reasons that it can suck to be the older child, and this might be one of them. Also, that the Eldest spent oh, five? years requiring us to make him the center of our attention - and gently accepting mid-field, slightly off-center. The morning adoration and play with me! It's a day! Let's play with something FUN! from his sibling is just deserts.



 So, yes. Summer. It started gently, with the Eldest transforming into lo! a fourth grader. Don't ask me what it means, except that I'm pretty sure that there's a growth spurt in there somewhere. Eventually. Also? A sudden, horrified awareness that if someone makes trouble, the mature, sensible fourth grader might be part of a group held responsible. Hm.

Shortly his mother stopped smirking in corners where she thought he couldn't see, the smaller one dusted off his hands, was offered and solemnly wielded the rose-shaped light saber of the Padawan, graduating to apprentice Jediship. (or some such) And I'm going to hold the grin in my tone here, but you know that it was a soggy occasion.

The Preschool of Wonders was wise enough not to equip their graduates with lightsabers - they gave them kiddush cups, instead. Armed with a nice bit of Judaica, the kidlets trotted happily off after a slightly adapted "Tick, Tock" song, wondering why that last line had come with a sudden round of adult mucus. They were, after all, going to see everyone on Visit Days, right?

::sniff::

With that taken care of, it was time to - well, to anything. The boys began with aerodynamics, 

 paused for a bit of whoop!

and went on to figure out how they could conquer the world.

And if you hadn't noticed, I suspect that I haven't been blogging nearly enough. Trust me - they did.


* Gigs, along with Trig and Gigabyte are a variety of names that we use for the really no longer toddling Toddles. For obvious, Palinesque reasons, I'm going to eschew the lovely Trig. Let's see if Gigs works for us - and your opinion is most welcome. The name is, of course, short for the Giggles.

morning improbable

go go go go shit stubbed -ow-fmfrikkintoe- um. Hi, honey.


The Toddles walked in slowly, meditatively. Also? pajamaedly.

Um, kid? It's morning. Time to get going for the day. I point at his pile of day clothes, sitting in the hallowed pile o' day clothes spot. He doesn't blink. Also? doesn't turn around.

Yes. I know. The kid flops down on the bed, his expression still serene, still relaxed. But I stopped the clock. 


I blink. He clarifies, time is standing still now.


Something in my morning routine knife pleats, then crumbles. Side by side, we stare at a line of light, threatening to creep across the ceiling. I could get to like this, I say, sleepily.


We pause, sinking into the stillness and inertia.

Mom! Mom! We have to go in seventeen minutes! the Eldest shrieks, running into the room. I turn my head to look at his brother, who doesn't have the grace to look sheepish.

I forgot to tell you, he says, calmly, I started it up again.

okay, so your cell phone can pop corn. Anything else?

But not so much tumors, says Tara Parker-Pope. Well, maybe gliomas - but they're rare. Um.

Still, your cellphone can make you pop a rash, thanks to the nickel content. (Click here for the article in CMAJ)

Indeed, says my jawline. We knew that.

Roughly 1 in 5 women are allergic to nickel, and a mere 3% men. The allergy has some deeply challenging and distressing effects, such as limiting the use of jewelry to the seriously expensive, low-nickel content stuff. Unless, of course, you have a loving and thoughtful spouse, who is willing to bring you joy and give love - to the budget - by hunting around for nickel-free, gold-free options.

I joke, of course, but you should have heard me swearing at my cell last summer. And itching.

For more on nickel-free cell phones (or mostly nickel-free), try this. And if you are wondering whether you are allergic, talk to your doc. Who might just do what mine did, oh, lo these decades ago, and tape an old nickel to your arm.