Wild Turkeys In Landpark!

We saw them after BedHeadSid's soccer practice on last Saturday on a quiet residential street in the Landpark area. I had seen sweet nature in the guise of scenic bike trails and roaming wild deer and chickens and other animals in the vicinity of the trails and the more rustic neighborhoods of Carmichael and Fair Oaks, but I never thought I'd see wild turkeys so close to inner city Sacto's suburban areas.

Sacramento always seems to surprise me when I least expect it. It's like it keeps its treasures close to home and dislikes flaunting it (unlike L.A.) or at the very least likes to keep it under the radar. Very cool.

Another Milestone

Today while BedHeadSid (BHS) was at his first playdate with a Waldorf school chum, StinkyHeadMonkeyToes (SHMT) and I had a little personal time together. SHMT got to sleep in and take his time with mommy. I had time to do some ironing and laundry. With all the things that have been going on lately, this seemingly mundane day was a welcomed and much needed change.



Don't get me wrong though, the day had its moments: SHMT fed himself soup with a spoon for the first time -- well, actually he dipped the spoon and spilled most of the soup on his bib, but he did manage to pop in a few bites of veggies and potatoes. The cutest thing about it was how he demanded to feed himself: "UUUUHHHHHHHH!" he growled as he arm wrestled the spoon away and shook his head at any of my attempts to regain the utensil. [update 10/26: SHMT is now throwing tantrums when we attempt to feed him unless we let him hold the spoon; I've got just one word to say: splosher]


In fact SHMT is very insistent these days. He will fetch his favorite book Good Night Moon and doggedly follow me around with it, waving it at me, 'oooh'-ing or mewling at me until I ask him whether he wants to read, to which he grins his assent and we assume the position (he is a lap reader). I figure I must read him this story at least five times a day -- no joke. Just like his brother, he loves to turn the pages. He's also beginning to take interest in his other literary acquisitions: The Hungry Caterpillar, Let's Grow Vegetable Soup, In Our House, and The Belly Button Book. Oh, and the occasional fluff reader.

SHMT has also begun to address people as we encounter them as well as when we depart from them. "Huh" gurgle "eye! da-da" gurgle. "Hen-goo" gurgle, drool. "Bye-eeeee" gurgle "eeee." Sure, his hellos, thank yous and goodbyes sound like bad ventriloquism, but they are still attempts to acknowledge the niceties of life and that is hella cute!

Have I mentioned what a little billy goat he's become? I've developed better peripheral sight in order to keep up with his climbing and underfoot ways. Seriously, for such a short guy with heavy baggage, baby boy can scoot up the table/couch/anything with a toe hold in seconds. We've resorted to blocking most areas, but little billy here will occasionally surprise us with his ingenuity and determination. He's started to employ the stools and step stairs in his grand and elaborate schemes.

Lastly, SHMT is well on his way to being eco-friendly and litter free...or we are grooming him to become the local trash picker upper. All he needs is that stick with the grabber thing-a-ma-jig and he's set. We've encouraged him to throw his garbage in the trash can by applauding his efforts. He loves the attention and has been diligent even without encouragement. At BHS's soccer practice, he scoured the ground for things to toss in the recycle can.

But somehow we're going to have to temper his enthusiasm since items are now showing up is odd places. Seems his "put in the can" behavior morphed into "put [insert anything] in the [insert to any place]. We now have shoes in our linens cabinet and the remote control can be found in any little crevice at any given time.

[sigh] Seems like only yesterday that we brought the little guy home so helpless and small.

Carvin' Pumpkins

This year Sid got his very own carving knife to carve his very own pumpkins. His excitement so lit up the night that if you passed our house, then you would surely have felt an inexplicable sense of glee not felt since childhood.

What is it about carving pumpkins that makes us smile so?

Ah yes! It's that theraputic sensation of stabbing. Now I remember!

As Halloween nears, I am reminded of the celebration of All Hallow's Eve, the celebration of spirits returning to roam the earth and to revisit hopefully with loved ones. Since I've learned about El Dia De Los Muertos and the similar tradition in asian countries like Korea and Japan that occur about this time of year, Halloween now fills me with a certain spirit that I'd never had before.

Two years ago, when I gave up smoking and drinking to better my life for the sake of myself and my family, I couldn't sleep for nearly a week and began to hallucinate. During this period, I saw things that I know a sane person would attribute to hallucinations but that a spiritual person may have connected to the spirit realm. This episode which included insomnia, depression, paranoia, and anxiety occurred in the last week of October and culminated on Halloween. Coincidental parallelisms surfaced between what was going on in my life and what was showing up on the external -- on billboards, in books, on the TV, magazines, in the noises outside my house, for instance. Most unnerving however was what I thought to be the witnessing of dead people and the experiencing of telepathy, clairvoyance, and premonition.

Bizzare indeed.

I guess I'll never know for sure, but in my heart I do believe I experienced something out of the ordinary that changed my life forever. At the very least, the experience cleansed my soul and body and left me receptive to conception. Sidney's birth allowed me to experience the miracle of motherhood, but Lucian's birth helped me to redeem my sins against myself and allowed me to forgive myself.

Of the years of depression, I've had one in LA and two in Sacramento. They started when I was 27 -- the year I graduated from Cal and my naïveté about the world died -- and ended (hopefully) when I was 36 -- the mid-point of one's life and from what I've heard, the hardest year in one's life according to chinese astrology. I had one of the worst episodes while working at Tower Books on Broadway.

As Fall/Autumn is the phase in nature where life begins to die, to go underground, so fitting it seems that Tower (Pooks and I met at Tower Books) is going out of business.

Let's hope it's just a transition to the next stage of the cycle -- for both Tower and the Flying Slesickis.

Happy Birthday Pooks!

Our good friends have a huge family and friends gathering for their son's birthday and like to sing Happy Birthday in three languages as they are as a multicultural family. Once they looked to us to sing it in Korean, and I shyly declined simply because 1) I'm not that great of a singer, especially in front of that many people, and 2) I realized that Koreans don't have a birthday song, unless you translate the english version, which is very un-asian given that the self is not usually celebrated (that's a western, namely american characteristic) and that only birthday milestones (i.e., 100th day, 1st year, 5th year, 60th year, 70th, etc.) are deemed worthy of calling attention to oneself - certainly not every year and certainly not with those silly hats.

Asian birthdays, from what I know of them, seem to be focused on introspective meditation and relationship to the clan. That's where you see the ancestral worship of a past relative -- usually patriarchs, rarely matriarchs -- that involves prayers, food, incense or some such other thing which connects the family to their relatives' spirit, if not invites the spirits back home.

I don't know, it all seems so serious in eastern culture whereas the west has this very "fun" take on celebration birthdays. Those silly hats, case in point. You get to gorge yourself on cake and ice cream and people lavish gifts at your feet in exchange for the good eats, tchotchkes, and entertainment. And you get that there Happy Birthday song that everyone -- tone deaf or not-- kindly sings to you. I mean, that 15-second spotlight makes you feel like the king of the hill!

So for Patrick, I sing to you now the asian "birthday song":

Ha-pi burse-dey too-yoo!
Ha-pi burse-dey too-yoo!
Ha-pi burse-dey dia Poo-kers!
Ha-pi burse-dey too-yoo!
An-doo, mawn-ee mo-a!

Although you normally spend this particular day on a bike ride exercising your demons and pushing your ever aging body to its limits while in deep contemplation of how, why, and when you've arrived where you are in life -- today we found our family celebrating your birthday at the Salmon Festival in Lake Natomas, and the symbolism here must be savored given the life cycle of the salmon and the state of your current position in life.

We thank your dad, Grandpa R, for coming out to the festival. We thoroughly enjoyed his company. I hope he had a good time. I hope your mother, Mejii-MIL, and sister, Auntie P-chan are okay and were able to give you love on your special day.

We thank StinkyHeadMonkeyToe's godparents (Tia D and Amu/Da-i B) and their sweet son Cousin A for joining us and being such good friends that they are family. They surprised Pooks with a chocolate birthday cake! This after treating us to a delicious dinner and fabulous company and conversation the night before. We are so lucky to have them in our life.

We thank Good Mikey, Triple K (that's Kind Korean Kris - not the KKK, and yes, I know his name begins with a 'Ch' but Triple K sounds better), Uncle D and his children Bella and Colin for coming out to join us. As always, they too are good friends of the 'family' caliber and it's always a pleasure to see y'all.

We also thank Uncle G and Auntie Lo-Lo for their warm birthday wishes. We miss you guys and wished you were here.

Lastly, thank you Halmoni for your kind birthday card and wishes and your generous gift and offer to take us out to dinner. We know you love us, and I know you love Pooks as if he were your own son.

Happy 42nd Birthday, my love.

I'm so glad we can share it together. Here's to many more.

With A Little Help From My Friends

Thank you for your support auntie lo-lo, uncle g, and uncle dan-dan. I've been pretty upset over here and appreciate your supportive and honest words that give a full perspective from a subjective objectivity.

Although Pooks and I quarrelled about the nature of this "name calling" argument, we made our peace. I love my husband, and even if I don't agree with him or his family, I will try to be civil, but I won't back down from this very touchy issue of non-grandma-tis, no matter who's in mourning or venting anger. Life has no room for mountains made out of mole hills.

I had second thoughts about the Apple Hill trip too, but Pooks convinced me of the importance of being a family regardless. As such I have extended the peace pipe and reminded Auntie P-chan et al that the invitation to Apple Hill still stands despite our mutual offenses, present and future.

Let's see hope it turns out for the better.

Onward ho(s) to more positive things, I read and loved (and still love) auntie lo-lo's blog, (which I nagged her to do) given that she's such an in-ter-esting person with such an in-ter-esting life in San Francisco and beyond. And what an in-ter-esting part she's been of my life, (sigh) but that is another blogstory if ever there was one. Another time, kiddie-winkies, I promise, another time. As for now, lo-lo is living it up in a Cinderella-like fairy tale complete with fairy godfathers, a Prince Charming of late but pure heart, and all the bippity-boppity-boo one could wish for. Hooray for lo-lo!

And now let's spam uncle dan-dan to get his blog up, cuz you know...he cra-zee! uncle dan-dan got some crazy crack stories about life and has always been one of the smartest of the bunch. I love you, ya big irish lug! He's got the face of the boy next door and the mischieviousness but lovableness of Calvin (as in Hobbes) and Dennis (as in Menance). If you don't do a blog, you will have done a great diservice to us all. blog, blog, blog, blog, blog!

Lastly, we have Miss Fair and Mr. Good Mikey, the purest of heart and soul, who also need to blog their goodness into this world. I shall be assisting Miss Fair with hers within the week after I pin down some cherubim children artwork for her new childcare business in Roseville, CA. If anyone is good with kiddie-winkies, it's Miss Fair -- she's got Waldorf written all over her.

Mr. Good Mikey, you are a computer guru. I need not say more, but if you aren't blogging, you'd better be decorating someone's house or throwing a soiree somewhere, you're so good at it. Are you sure you're not gay?

Don't Tell Me How To Blog

Auntie P-chan,

Pooks tells me that you are offended by my blogsite, that i am name-calling your mother, and that i remove the offensive language from my blog before your father finds out.

Number 1: i have nothing to hide.

if you are offended by my referring to your mother as "Mejii-MIL" (which describes her japanese ethnicity and her status as my "Mother-In-Law") and as "vain because she doesn't want to be called Grandma" then i will remove you and your father from the blog's update email list and suggest that neither of you visit the site.

this blog is my effort to write about the "circus" that is our life, and i consider everything i write before i publish it. believe me, i have considered writing a lot more about my relationship with your mother and your family AS WELL AS my mother and my family, but we'd all have to go to therapy over that then.

i will not censure my opinions once they are published because you are offended. if i did that for everyone, i'd have nothing to write about.

you should also know, that i am still offended by your mother's request to NOT be called grandma, grandmother or any other title indicating her actual relationship. this is such a sore point with me that i have changed from being sad about the request to mad and now i diligently remind sid (and lucian in the future) to NOT call your mother "grandmother."

Being a mother has changed my life for the better, has brought my mother, my family and i closer together, and (i think) has made me a better person. I could NEVER, EVER deny my role as a mother to my boys or my role as GRANDMOTHER to my GRANDCHILDREN -- and I have been a vain bitch from way back.

Oh, and this is going on the blog.

Baby Talk!

Amazing today! StinkyHeadMonkeyToes (SHMT) said "brother" and "good night, daddy!" Granted it sounded like "brudda" and "goo-nigh da-da," but hell who cares! HE TALKED WORDS!

SHMT has officially reached the next plateau of development: spoken words! Not grunts, not screams, not shrieks, not even garbled sounds of emotional exactitude -- not that he hasn't stopped doing these things -- but real, honest to goodness, words!

Now, [sob, sob!] BedHeadSid (BHS) will be able to talk to someone else besides meeeee! hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!

Not to say that I don't enjoy talking to BHS, answering every 1.5 seconds, no make that .005 seconds, the questions, the constant barrage of questions, statements and exclaimations that ranges from the profound to the insanely inane. It's just that I sometimes need to think in quiet, that I want to focus uninterrupted, that I need to tune out the incessant -- yes, I'm going to say it -- noise: that joy of just talking just to hear one's voice. I love that our big boy is inquisitive and articulate, but damn! mommy needs some quiet time before I go medieval on someone's ass!

I will say this, BHS was a saint yesterday to his Auntie P-chan when she called. Amazingly, he seemed to know exactly the right thing to say that I (supposedly the adult) myself have been lacking in forethought to say. Yes, BHS was a very compassionate and gentle soul to his
Auntie P-chan yesterday. I guess that balanced out the punch to the crotch that he administered to Pooks at the Harvest Festival yesterday.

On a positive note, however, I will describe the latest sweetness our darlings have demonstrated. BHS has begun to sing songs from his school program like You Are My Sunshine, This Is My Trunk - I'm A Tall, Tall Tree, and Unwind The Apple Tree. His voice is so clear and so angelic that I cannot harbor an ill thought during these sweet arias for I am filled with joy for my son and find my voice humming if not harmonizing right along with him.

As for SHMT, he is deepening our bond by doing some very funny and adorable things. he's started to dribble the soccer ball down the hallway like some super soccer star, his cute little mutton legs deftly guiding the ball hither and thither. He's also getting kicks out of bending over and looking out between his legs at the people and things behind him, so hilarious even he can't stop giggling. Another goodie is when he brings his Good Night Moon book over to me and tosses it in my lap then proceeds to climb the chair in which i'm sitting to climb into my lap and have me read him the story over and over again while he turns each page after listening intently to the few phrases on each page. But the sweetest thing lately has been when he wakes in the morning and when he nurses on the bed with me, he 'll get up and kiss and nuzzle me for no reason other than pure love. Yes, that is the sound of my black heart crying.

My boys just make me sigh with hearts coming out of my ears and eyes.

Harvest Festival

We attended the Harvest Festival this year and had loads of fun! The picture above shows the first prize winning pumpkin that weighed in at over 1,000 lbs and took home $6,400. Now that's a hardworking pumpkin! We started the festivities with a spicy hot link dog then proceeded to the obstacle-course jump house, which had a giant island man affixed to the front and where BedHeadSid (BHS) and Pooks ran through with utter excitement and unabashed abandon.

BHS tried his luck at the game booths and won tchotchkes and candy galore, enough to keep him and StinkyHeadMonkeyToes (SHMT) spun on sugar and adrenalin for the entire afternoon. I think he really enjoyed this game of golf. He went back more than once, I think....

We stopped by the live entertainment stage where the "piano juggler" thoroughly entertained the crowd. The amazing antics of Mr. Menendez included jumping on a pogo stick/cello while playing a tune, funny jokes and gags, and most impressive, juggling balls onto a floor keyboard to produce classical and popular tunes.

Later we met up with Good Mikey, Uncle D, his gal pal, and kiddie winkies Bella and Colin. Of course we had to sample the food court once again where Pooks found some tasty steak tacos.

The kiddie winkies got to check out the local fire engines and police cars, while the rest of us checked out the vendors and went on the hunt for free balloons and other freebees.

As usual, the hay maze provided unlimited shrieks and confusion for our six-year old son, and the petting zoo had all kinds of cool animals for BHS and SHMT to molest. Great hilarity broke out when the plastic fencing tore and an african pygmie goat dashed out of the zoo. take note: goats can gnaw through pliable plastic! at the front of the zoo, I got to chat with a lady who was spinning wool yarn from raw/freshly sheared fleece. Very cool!

A great time was had by all! Next week: Apple Hill!

Two Sides of the Same Coin

StinkyHeadMonkeyToes (SHMT) is just too cute. Lately he's been shuffling his feet (like a bull about to charge) to express his delight and dancing (bouncing up and down to the music thank you!) like a go-go dancer gone crazy! He's also been emoting so much lately that we're just waiting for the words to spew forth any day. When he gets up from bed, he'll kiss me right before he leaves the bed (feet first) for the door. He's also figured out how to climb onto the chair and couch, which pleases him to no end. He likes to sit there and read (more like examine) his board books or bounce like he's riding a bucking bronco. Just adorable. He lights up our world. Yes, I'm hearing Debbie Boon in my head right now, and that's okay since I've been replaying the Ramones Beat on the Brat a bit much lately.


Which brings us to the other side of SHMT... There must be balance in the universe, so of course, for every cute action there is a psycho action. Don't get me wrong, it's still cute, but only because it's coming from a 2 ft. one year old. Now if this behavior were to come from his daddy or some other 40-something year old, I would have to file a police report.

I always warn others who are about to enter the "enter at your own risk" zone that is approximately the 5 inch radius around his cherubic head. "You know, he'll look like he's about to caress you, but he might just gauge out your eyes -- you know, just out of curiosity." I think his sweet, angelic face is a decoy that's set to lull you into a false sense of security. Funny how much of life can be this way.

Blessed are the dogs...

Well, they say that Jesus is everywhere!