VBS Hell

I'm in VBS hell. Well, it's not entirely hellacious, there are some bright spots...but I'm wondering why I volunteered for this. Again. For the uninitiated, VBS is short for Vacation Bible School, a wonderful institution that offers some structure for one's children in the otherwise formless sea of summer, with a little religion thrown in. Once I send my children off, I could wallow in three hours of silence, in the (temporary) utter absence of whining, and light-saber-wielding-sibling-stalking. I could meditate. I could work out (insert hysterical laughter here). I could...nap.

I didn't do any of those things. Instead, while my children trooped off in their standard-issue eye-searing orange t-shirts, I...put on an eye-searing orange t-shirt. I stood in front of 6-odd classes of 20 kids each. And I danced like a crazy person. I have now thrust my arms over my head--in order to demonstrate proper "Galactic Blast" technique--so many times I think my shoulders might possibly be paralyzed. While exhorting assorted disinterested pre-teens to participate and sing with actual sound issuing from their lips (this seems to be a new and bizarre concept), thus singing ever more loudly myself, I now sound like an emphysematic truck driver. I embraced perspiration (no, little boy, I did not just take a shower, but thank you so much for asking).

Like I said, though, there was a bright spot: at the end of the day, leading the entire group of 100 kids in singing that cursed rocket ship song one more time, I look out and see my own little Colin and Hallie, dancing for all they're worth, singing at the top of their little pitch-challenged voices, utterly committed, and thrilled to the core that their Mommy was Music Leader.

Day one: success.

I am in love with sleep these days. OMG...that sleep could be this good!! There are no words, except, thank you, CPAP inventor...while I question your design aesthetic and curse the day that mirrored doors were installed at the foot of my bed...still, I salute you, and am eager to partake in your bounty once more. Lead on, Great Warrior in the raging battle against sleep apnea. Lead on. I will follow, even unto the end of dreaming. Also known as waking up.

This was originally one of those questions that was going around Facebook a while back....but I ended up pleasantly surprised with my list, and like to remind myself of a few of them, from time to time. So here are 25 random things. About me.


1. I have two really, really, really, cute kids. I'm not bragging...I'm just saying. Actual fact.

2. The first time I met my best friend, she looked at me across the table during PSAT testing, and asked to draw my lips. I graciously acceded to her request, and a marvelous friendship was born.

3. When I met my husband (10-ish years ago), some people thought he was probably an axe murderer, because the only people who tried dating over the internet were losers and psychos (except me?).

4. I think one of my son's jobs in my life is to help me understand my brother better.

5. My parents still live in the house I grew up in.

6. I didn't move out of that house until embarrassingly late in life.

7. I was on the ten-year college plan, but it took me twelve.

8. I have yet do anything with my degree...I sort of resent it because I accidentally got one geared for teaching, and I don't wanna teach!

9. My dream is, once the kids are in school, to go back myself and get an MFA in creative writing, which is what I chickened out of doing the first time around.

10. I'm a terrible housekeeper.

11. I can't quite get the words "stay-at-home mom" out of my mouth without sounding the teensiest bit defensive.

12. Conversely, I wouldn't trade this time with my kids while they are so little for anything or any job.

13. At one time, I had a voice teacher that pretty much guaranteed me he could make me a Broadway star. Um...what happened there?

14. One of my favorite things in life is being in rehearsal for a production...I almost wish they could go on indefinitely. Although the performance is pretty great, too.

15. Also on my to do list for when the kids are in school: get into community theater.

16. I suspect I have a somewhat inflated notion of how much time I will have to myself when the kids are in school.

17. I am extremely conflict-avoidant; Colin is also helping me with that by generating as much conflict as a four (now five) year old mind can dream up.

18. While I love to write, coming up with an ending is and has always been the bane of my existence...therefore, this list is suddenly getting very difficult.

19. I am the Queen of all Procrastinators. For example, right now I should be cleaning my house for company.

20. Dang, five more things? Um...I really love cats...or at least I do in theory...now that I have kids, I find that my capacity for having demands placed on me is pretty much exhausted before I get to the cat. So I guess this means I really should wait on getting a dog? Addendum: Cat died, got the dog...and the same phenomenon (not so shocking), is repeating itself. Poor dog.

21. I apparently am a Slayer of Goldfish.

22. I am currently completely obsessed with Dragon Wars, which, as my best friend pointed out, doesn't actually DO anything. She's right, and yet...oh, sorry, gotta go check on my gold! Addendum: Down with Dragon Wars, onto FrontierVille! Also does nothing, but I still gotta go check on my spread! There might be bears! Does this mean anything, like about escapism, an addictive personality...? Nah.

23. My husband is the love of my life, and I don't tell him that nearly enough.

24. I love living in California, and am always completely bewildered when my friends actually want to move away. Sorry guys, but I think you're a little mental!

25. When I had my first car, I was strongly resistant to the notion that any sort of maintenance was really necessary...and I still secretly hold out hope that a self-healing vehicle will hit the markets in my lifetime.

Poignant moment somewhere around last Halloween, I think…Colin, then 4 1/2, got really fascinated with bald eagles for a few weeks--this is what he does, fasten onto a topic and suck it dry, saturating himself in it. Anyway, I showed him lots of clips on YouTube, while trying to explain the difficult, abstract concept of symbolism—i.e., why the bald eagle is particularly important, and to us as Americans specifically. Try explaining patriotism to a four year old!

We found a video of an eagle named Challenger, with the schmaltziest, cheesiest patriotic song I have ever heard about “When Challenger Flies”— I mean seriously, it had me gagging and rolling my eyes—and on the fourth or fifth straight playback when I thought I was going to truly hurl, I look over at my little boy and realized that he had tears in his eyes. He really didn’t know what to do with such a big emotion, and had to have a little cry fest for a minute, saying he felt “sad”…but how stunning when I realized that, no matter how lame I thought it was, this experience of being moved by music, of being uplifted, impassioned, stirred up, was, for him, brand new. What a wonder that I got to see that moment, and could put aside my jaded cynicism for a while, and maybe guide him through that a little bit. What an honor. And what a magical child to feel, so deeply, so young...he staggers me.

It's 8:09 a.m., and I'm waiting for a man to show up. Once he gets here, I will usher him into my bedroom, and beg him to show me how his techno-toys work...it will involve straps, and hoses, and heavy breathing. Yes, that's right...I'm having an affair with...a CPAP machine.

See, it turns out, there's a reason I've been exhausted for the last, oh, six years or so. There's a reason I have trouble remembering what happened last week, for why I can't fall asleep without my good friend Ambien, for myriad aches, pains, and other small complaints. I have that uber-sexy, don't-you-wish-you-had-it-too condition, sleep apnea.

I know this because I got to have a sleep adventure at a lab, where they attached about 20 electrodes and wires to my face, body and scalp with this thick, sticky goop (so glad I'd washed my hair special for the occasion), gathered it all into a heavy ponytail behind me so I was afraid to move too much, and then wished me pleasant dreams. Um, yeah. That went really well. Despite my conviction that sleep was pretty much impossible under these conditions, I did sleep, sporadically (it was a looooong couple of hours), and apparently had enough apnea "events" to allow my doctor to diagnose it, and prescribe this lovely contraption that I am literally waiting with bated breath for.

So, come on, technician guy, do your worst, give me your bulkiest, unloveliest, unsexiest machine. I'm ready for you. And I think I'll probably end up thanking you for it, as the mere idea of sleep...real sleep...night after night of restful, restorative sleep... makes me all verklempt.

So, I just thought I'd compile a small list of the ways in which I have found my five year old son sleeping, in the last few months...this boy must have wonderful adventures once I kiss him good night and close the door:

A) With a giant stuffed snake wrapped around his head--unclear if it was protecting or eating him.

B) With his hands tucked angelically under his cheek, but a full-size toy rifle balanced carefully across his body--perhaps to fend off the snake?

C) With his head nestled inside a large Lego bucket--my personal favorite, and one for which I really can't come up with an explanation.

And one night I think I quashed a burgeoning adventure (bad Mommy, bad Mommy) by making him take off an ever-so-snazzy, silver-grey Kenneth Cole dressy vest, 2 sizes too small (which looked entirely fabulous over his bug jammies) before he climbed into bed ...who knows what he could have done with that one.

A few months later... Shoved his mattress out from the wall about a foot, and squeezed into the space he'd created...when I came in and took a picture of him, he roused enough to sit up and gabble incensed nonsense at me (which was both funny and unnerving) and flung himself back down.The next night he improved upon this idea , shoving the mattress completely off the bed, and was sleeping on the boxsprings when I found him. Do you know how uncomfortable a boxspring is?? The next day he told me his mattress was there for anyone who might have wanted to visit in the night. I thought it was awfully considerate, even as I commanded him never to do it again.


Meanwhile, his baby sister (aged 3) is clearly feeling a little inspired by big brother's boldness, and has staged a few nighttime discoveries of her own, although it tends to run toward cleaning her room when we think she's asleep (which prompts me to wonder whose child she is, as she's clearly not mine), sleeping dead center in the middle of the floor sans any blankets or pillows, and inexplicably draping small blankets over random objects.

Can I just say I don't remember having nearly this much fun when the lights went out when I was a little girl. Well, except that one time I rigged a booby trap in my room to catch a criminal....but that's for another time.

So I just created a blog, and I have NO IDEA what to do with it. I'm always a little behind the technology curve, and at this point, I've pretty much lost hope of ever catching up.

But here's my intent with this...thing...I just summoned out of the ether: to write about the stuff that goes on my life. Oooooooh. Cutting edge, huh? Never been done before in the history of the internet! But, as I was reminded recently, write what you know...so you're going to hear about the antics of my two young kids, the new dog, the paradoxes of being a stay-at-home mom, how I know when I've lost my candidacy for Mother of the Year...stuff like that. Probably some stuff about my sporadic attempts at tapping into my personal creative well (hint: you're looking at one right now!).

Now we'll see how interesting we all--me included--find this experiment.