All new blogging! All new blog genre!!! Guess what, peeps. I'm the Houston Chronicle's newest mom blogger. Are you shocked because you never thought of me as a mommy blogger before? Well, you know what that means, don't you? All new, never-before-told invasions of my children's privacy for your reading entertainment! Go visit and enjoy!
Pre-order my new novel, Lone Star Legend, now!
New kids' book: Sunflowers is on sale now. It's been oh sale, actually, but I haven't been keeping up with this announcement section very well. Know why? Because someone's making me a new Web site as we speak.
Right now: I'm about to start writing a new novel and will tell y'all the title as soon as we decide on it. :)
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
The status is static, General.Every time people ask me, "So what's going on with you?" my answer is, "Nothing." Because there is nothing to speak of. Look:
I like my house very much but don't get to spend enough time in it (just like everyone else in Suburban America).
I'm either writing or revising words, but have no new publications or readings to report.
The kids haven't flunked out of school yet. Josh is doing okay. Rory is doing okay. Dallas is learning to play a musical instrument. Some parents don't like the sound of children playing musical instruments. I like it, though. I make Dallas sit on my bed and serenade me with tuba solos while I clip coupons or pay bills. He can play a D, an F, and an E Sharp. He should be able to play a C, but the valve on his home-use tuba is rusted stiff. So he practices his three notes, over and over. Then I say, "Play a song now," and he goes into Radiohead-esque scales of his own devising. Sometimes I hum along. It's nice.
Oh, wait - something did happen. Little girls invaded my house.
Last night, after cleaning up the dinner dishes and yelling at the kids one last time for breaking the laundry-room door, I was getting ready to go to the grocery store for some desperately needed lunch supplies, when the doorbell rang.
It was two little girls. They were sisters. Before I knew what was happening, they invited themselves into my house. "You have a beautiful house," one said dutifully as she ushered herself in. She was Paris, I knew. (Though that's not her real name, of course.) I had a vague notion that my youngest son had arranged a play date with Paris that evening, and assumed her mother had simply sent the sister along, as well. I asked the sister for her name. She said it was Nicole, then politely asked for my name. I said it was "Miss Zuh-pay-duh." I rolled with their sudden appearance, figuring it was a suburban thing. The sisters frolicked with my sons and our video game systems for a while. I pretended to work on my writing and eavesdropped with great interest.
Dallas, eleven-soon-to-be-twelve and normally so quiet around adults and other boys, seems to enjoy talking to girls. Last year, he had three girls who would call our house and jabber at him for hours on end while he said, "Uh huh. Yeah. Yeah, I know, he's stupid."
Last night, he ushered the older girl into the office and showed her games he thought she would like. She wanted to talk. The others joined them as Dallas launched into a comedy routine, mimicking people at school and ad-libbing sardonic scenarios. The girls laughed and laughed. "I don't even know what I'm saying," Dallas said. "I'm just making it up."
Eventually, the talk turned to someone at school whose dad wore a particular kind of turban. One of the girls described it as "weird!" I called out to them, "My dad wears a turban like that, y'all." There was silence, then someone muttered, "Sorry."
I said, "No, just kidding. I just said that so y'all would think about stuff before you say it."
Silence again, but I could hear the eye-rolls under it.
"Right now, you guys," I continued, "That kid is at his house with his friends, talking about you guys. He's saying, 'Their dads don't even wear turbans! Weird!'"
More eye rolls. I went back to my own business.
A quarter til eight, I started thinking it might be time to hustle the little girls out of the house. I stood up to do so and the doorbell rang. It was the little girls' mom, who I've met once. She wasn't happy.
"Are Paris and Nicole here?" she asked. I said they were. She said, "They are so grounded!" I said, "I'm sorry."
It turned out that Paris had promised to be home before dark, and it was now after dark. Nicole hadn't even asked permission to visit us - she'd just followed Paris, and her parents had assumed she was in her room the whole time. Their mother hadn't even been sure which house we lived it, and had gone door to door, searching. "I told you it was the one with the silver car!" Paris whined.
"Can I come over again tomorrow?" Paris asked me. I saw that she had taken off her shoes and they weren't yet back on.
"Uh..." I said. I really wanted to go to the grocery store some evening soon.
"You are grounded!" their mother reminded them.
"Aw!" said Paris. As quickly as they'd appeared, the girls disappeared.
"Let's hurry and go to the grocery store," I told Rory.
On the way, his nine-year-old self said, "At least we got to have fun for a little while. I hope they come over tomorrow. We should invite more people over. Can we have a party?"
"Uh..." I said.
I really wanted to play World of Warcraft some evening this week. But maybe little kids will take over my house and I'll never play again. Maybe they'll bring over skateboards and puppies and kegs and DJs. I'm kind of scared. Then again, maybe I can teach them to be kind to others and to write villanelles.
Maybe I can build a little kid army and take over the world.
Just kidding.
Okay, I'm grounded. Gotta go.
Labels: parenting
9:17 AM #Comments:
I'm so afraid that come November, this is going to be my house. We're doing it, too - moving to a middle-class McMansion in Suburbia, and the Spawn made a friend in the 15 minutes we were there this week just looking the place over. 15 minutes, and they were playing tackle "football" (sans ball) on the front lawn with, um, Tyler, we'll call him. *Sigh*So, any advice?
# posted by
Jennaratrix : 1:16 PM
No. Just let them make friends and play, I guess. That's what I'm going to do.
Unless tackle football sans ball is a euphemism for something you don't want them doing. Then just say, "Quit! Quit it, brats!"
I think Middle Class McMansions are fun, in general. I feel like we have tons more privacy, in general. Random little kids can always be turned away, really.
# posted by
Gwen : 1:20 PM
All my child-rearing fantasies involve things like villanelle writing. I once said I wanted to have children so I could dress them up as organ grinder's monkeys for Halloween, but the real reason I want to is so we can write and perform plays, like they did in "Little Women." Oh well, I can dream.
I think your scene sounds absolutely great. Maybe your place will be the cool place on the block where all the kids will want to be--especially when you start hammering skeletons & Easter bunnies to your front door.
# posted by
Marigoldie : 1:39 PM
Have you ever played Baldur's Gate, et al? I am 33. I am a bard. I am addicted, as freakishly dorky as that is. I admit it.
Have been thoroughly enjoying your archives lately - your fantasy mall? I'd totally go.
# posted by
shewearsplaid : 3:21 PM
Grounded! Hee. Don't be grounded, because I want to hang out with you soon.
# posted by
Nyarly : 10:07 PM
That's it -- this year I am hammering skeletons and Easter bunnies to our door for Halloween. Easter bunnies of DOOOOOM.
When I was growing up we lived in suburbia, technically, but it wasn't really a neighborhood -- it was one street in some woods with about 4 houses and my sister and I were the only kids. My husband has all these stories about the kids in the neighborhood and all the (fun) trouble they got into and I'm pretty jealous.
I always wanted to be that cool house on the block where all the kids wanted to hang out. We have no kids though and we aren't planning on kids anytime soon, so that would be kind of creepy. I think we've only just recently realized we aren't really kids anymore ourselves.
# posted by
jam : 8:37 AM
The nice thing about being the house where all the kids hang out? You never have to wonder where your kids are. And there are usually enough of them that no hanky-panky is going on.
(Here via Anita Rowland.)
# posted by
Kai Jones : 11:14 AM
Marigoldie: You're funny. The hard part, I think, though, is that kids are like cats. If you show that you enjoy their company or if you make direct eye contact with them, they won't want to hang out with you and will tear up your carpet. So the only fun is incidental, at times of their choosing, not yours.
(I just made all that up right now.)
SheWears: Thank you. I haven't played Baldur but it looks similar to Diablo, and I used to be a Diablo fanatic. (I beta'ed Diablo II online, man!) You rock on with your bard self. Signed, the Night Elf.
Nyarly: :) Don't worry - it's only 8 AM to 4:45 PM each day.
Jam: I dare you nail up bunnies of doom. And I totally feel your jealousy. I grew up reading Judy Blume, and I wished we lived where kids could egg mailboxes of mean old men.
Kai: Hi. Yeah, that's what other people are telling me, too, via email. I just hope mine doesn't turn into the house where all the kids hang out... and then all the kids' parents hate me because I'm a bad influence because I didn't vote for Bush, or because I told the kids not to say feminazi, or whatever. You know? However, I suspect the other parents might end up too happy with the peace and quiet to quibble over stuff like that, maybe.
I just don't want to do the wrong thing. Then again, I've always been that parent who takes her kids out to the apt pool, and then all the single dads send their kids out to the pool unattended for as long as I'm there... so I guess I've proven my mad skizzills already. I have references.
# posted by
Gwen : 11:46 AM
I'm a new Suburbanite, myself, and I agree, it feels like I never spend as much time in my home as I want.
By the way, I love the way you write about your kids. You can tell they are rad kids from they way you write about them. I hope my future kids are that rad.
Also, for that sticky tuba valve, unscrew the little cap under the moving part, pull the whole thing out, it will look like a little tube with holes in it. Squirt some valve oil on the outside of the tube. When he puts it back in, turn it slowly till he hears a gentle click, then screw the little cap back on. Push the valve up and down a bunch to get the oil worked around. Good as new.
# posted by
Rachel L. : 4:55 PM
Rachel, wait!!! On the tuba - we can't pull the valve out on that one. It's stuck inside. Do you think I should WD40 it?
Thanks for your nice words, btw...
# posted by
Gwen : 7:18 PM
Hi Gwen,
You can't be grounded who'd make the living?
I love having kids over, but just not real often and in small numbers.
Janice~
# posted by
Janice : 12:44 AM
Yikes! Stuck inside, huh? I'd wait to use WD40 as a last resort. Try to let the valve oil seep into the spaces between overnight or so. If the valve oil doesn't loosen it, I'd go for it with the WD40. If that works, just wipe off the WD40, it might corrode the metal, I dunno.
Good luck, and keep the great blog entries comin'! Take care.
# posted by
Rachel L. : 11:20 AM
P.S. Both Rachel L. and Rachel Adamson are the same person. (Forgot I already had an old log-in the first time.)
# posted by
Rachel L. : 11:22 AM
When I was growing up, we had a house and everything but lived really far away from school. Also, my mom didn't like surprise guests, so nobody ever, ever just dropped by unannounced. It always made me a little bit sad. You are very cool.
Epilogue: Now I have an apartment and people drop by all the time!
# posted by
Lauren : 1:46 PM
Who cares if you are the cool mom all the parents hate! I LOVE being the cool mom that all the parents hate and the kids are always always all at my house and I love it. LOVE it. I know where mine is, I know what he's talking about, I know what he's NOT doing and I know exactly how stupid his friends are so I'm so glad that he's not over at their house doing thier stupid stuff.
I even let them play hide and go seek IN MY HOUSE sometimes. I just prefer to have him here.
Right now he's over at his friends and I'm worrying.
Be the cool mom and have all the kids over, trust me in the long run your kids will be WAYYYYYYYYY better off.
# posted by
pixielyn : 8:15 PM
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