My son likes band-aids. Don’t we all? But he really, really adores band-aids. He thought he’d put one on his blue piggybank. Which we couldn’t find. He was sad. Little sad-faced Wacky Boy. Because he had the band-aid all ready.

“Mom, we don’t want to waste band-aids.”

No, son, we don’t.

So I find his dad’s piggy bank. It was a wedding gift. It’s a purple elephant with blue polka dots. (Don’t ask. To this day I don’t get the joke.) It’s full of foreign coins. They Could Be Worth Money. Wacky Boy plasters the band-aid on the elephant. All good. Then later, he finds the blue piggybank. (It’s shaped like an actual pig. Go figure.) He has it in bed with him when I go to check on him.

“Look what I fouuuuuuuuund!” he sings out. Another band-aid. We’re good.

Now it’s ten p.m. I’m tired. More tired than my children. My daughter has started another Boxcar Children mystery, the one she just finished was not enough for her.

Clink.
Clink.
Clank.

It’s Wacky Boy. He’s pulled the stopper out of the elephant, there are foreign coins everywhere. I’m too tired to pick up.

“Show those to dad tomorrow, he’ll love that.” (Smart mommy, no? Then he can pick them all up — a Father’s Day gift!)

“Baby, wash your hands. Those coins get dirty — they go everywhere. All around the world!” His sister puts the book aside; flips off the light. He scoots into the bathroom.

“Coins are everywhere,” he tells me somberly, “Even in your underwear.” I’m laughing. He’s serious — no smile.

“God, please, go. To. Bed!

“God is everywhere, Mom, even in your underwear.”

I’m really hoping God is not in my underwear. It’s fine with me if he’s everywhere else.

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, ALL YOU DADDOs OUT THERE! Party on.

Love,

WM

from one of my listservs.

WM

Dear MomsRising member,

We heard from outraged young moms, grandmas, pre-schools, and our own team members about one thing yesterday: Toxic lead in a popular line of children’s toys. It’s a scary thing. Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends toys are now the subject of a major recall by the Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC). The CPSC advises consumers to immediately stop using these toys. Here’s the link to their recall notice so you can find out exactly which toys are trouble. (more…)

I’m definitely in the mood for Thursday Thirteen this week. Oh. Man. Has it been a looooooong school year or is it just me? I thought we had one of the shortest school years in the nation? Oh, all those Wednesdays and Thursdays off, I guess they mean. They add up.

Yesterday wasn’t the last day of school for my kids (who are now proud to be kindergarten and third grade students-in-waiting), but it sure felt like it. It was field day! Water balloons, dumping buckets of water on each other, the long dash, the frisbee toss… fun.

13. Goodbye, Bruno. I hope over the summer you learn to stop stabbing yourself with scissors. I also kinda hope you try out a different school. One where they have more counselors? (more…)

Dear World Wide Web,

I’m tired. I’m working full-time the next two weeks, still waiting to hear on permanent jobs, the kids are getting out of school for the summer soon, we have swim lessons ending and starting right up again, a house torn apart from our awesome painter (no you can’t have his number, I’m keeping him just for us)… weeds to pull, laundry to hang out, fifty more dollars’ worth of gas for the car? Sure thing!

God. I remember having two measly bucks, coasting my Dodge Dart into the gas station for a drink, and praying the attendant would take pity on me and give me an extra buck’s worth. I am that old.

Speaking of — my birthday is coming up. I will be 43. My mother assures me this is not old at all and to please shut up.

A brief round-up, and then I am off to do more laundry and try to figure out where my purse is. (I mean it when I say the house is torn apart. I saw my purse yesterday and haven’t seen it since.) Also, the floors? Trashed. Cooking? Not happening. Dishes? Piled up. So what do you do when you can’t deal with your own house? Go look at the homes of Others. Others Who Can Afford Gardeners and Maids.

My mom and I went on a great tour of gardens this afternoon. My new loves: Baggesen’s Gold shrub honeysuckle, California incense cedar, honey locust, climbing hydrangea, verbena, hostas, candy hearts, clematis… I got so many ideas from the three places where we stopped, I do not know where to start. Perhaps with art. My favorite garden was stuffed full of tiny and big sculptures, pieces of blown glass, decorative stepping stones, everything. It was delightful and a little kooky. But in a genuinely kooky way, not a “Look at me, I’m so kooky!” way. I do not like the “deliberate kook” she is not my style. Wacky Girl went with us and fell in love with the bus stop-sized outdoor hangout that had benches, pillows and shade and everything she’s ever dreamed of, and was just the right size for an almost-8-year-old.

I liked the greenhouse next to it. Ahhhh…

And… in lieu of a real review… next to the DVD player and and next to the nightstand at Wacky House we have:

Punk Rock Dad, by Jim Lindberg (Pennywise lead singer) — totally hilarious read. I’ll give it a full review soon (with help from the Pink-Haired Housewife, I’m hoping) but in the meantime — go pick up a copy. Pick up two and give the extra to a friend. Perfect baby shower gift, anniversary gift or birthday present for the dads (and moms) out there. He’s such a good writer, and so funny.

When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts, a Spike Lee Joint, Pick up a copy of this one, too. And please do not forget, when you’re thinking about Darfur and orphans abroad and the movie stars who love them — New Orleans and the South still desperately need our help. Do what you can and do it now.

Sunshine State, directed by John Sayles

Strictly Ballroom, directed by Baz Luhrmann

Onions in the Stew, by Betty MacDonald

Blood Diamond, directed by Edward Zwick

(Yeah, try to figure out how my brain works based on that list.)

Love,

WM

Dear Thursday Thirteeners and the Usual Suspects,

Is food an issue at your house? It isn’t here since my father-in-law taught me this neat trick: Just give them whatever they want.

13 Things My Kids Will Eat

13. Dinner out. Always. Seven nights a week would be good by them.

12. “Dino Mac!” (Annie’s Organic Mac and Cheese) “Not that other kind! Dino Mac!”

11. Cheese pizza

10. Waffles & pancakes

9. Strawberries? No. Raspberries.

8. Raspberry & strawberry breakfast bars

7. Chocolate milk & hot cocoa

6. Cheese sandwiches! And tomato soup!

5. “I like when you turn off the computer and make Dino Mac for me!” (No doing until I’ve posted. Sorry, kid.) “Dino Nuggets!” (Chicken nuggets from Costco.)

4. Bagels with cream cheese & any kind of jam. No, just raspberry.

3. Ice cream, cookies & candy

2. “And cake!”

1. Spaghetti with marinara and tons of fresh grated parmesan.

WB: “Mommy, get off the computer and get all the stuffed animals down! Guess what, Mommy? You’ve been on the computer for three hours. Or maybe even two. Oh, owwwwwwwwww… Also, that is very bad. Because mommies are not a-supposed to do that.”

WG: “Yeah.”

WB: “Yeah, really. Oooooooooooh, noooooooooooooo. Yay, good she’s getting the stuffed animals down.” (They live in a net, suspended in his room.)

WG ;) Ha ha!!

WB: (leaves the room to build a stuffed animal trap in his room)

(WM says: We’re home today. Little virus, both kids have had low-grade fevers. Why did I ever go back to work? This is so much more fun. I’m only sorta kidding.)

WG (shaking her maracas): “I wrote that! The wink and the ha ha! I like staying home. Ha hahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaiiii.”

WM: “Anything else?”

WB (re-enters the room wearing a stuffed blue dinosaur hat on his head): “Nope.”

WG: “No way, Jose.”

Wacky Family, out.

I’d like to say that I got up earlier than usual, just so I could post, but that would be a lie. I’m running late. I haven’t had my coffee. But I know when I go to read my favorite blogs and they haven’t updated, I get grouchy. Grouchy! How lame is that, to let the Information Superhighway dictate your moods? Y’all are great writers and photographers — I need my fix of your art. Oh, yeah — you’re great moms, too. But today, that is third on the list of your accomplishments.

* We’re still planning on moving to Iowa. No job offers yet. In the meantime, maybe I should… (more…)

Hola, what’s happening, 13ers? Do my kids like to watch movies? They can watch the hell out of a movie! Or thirteen.

Happy Thursday!

Our 13 Favorite Flicks Ever, Kid-Wise

13. Prehistoric Planet

12. Cheaper by the Dozen (One, not Two)

11. Muppets from Space

10. The Little Vampire

9. Homeward Bound

8. Nanny McPhee

7. Matilda

6. Home movies from when they were babies (these are my favorite movies, too)

5. The Aristocats (Aristocats! Not the Aristocrats!)

4. Land Before Time series

3. Molly: American Girl

2. Wallace and Gromit

1. The Apple Dumpling Gang

I forgot about work. Working-outside-of-the-home work. I work — I write; I get paid little or nothing for it. (Note to self: Put up PayPal button in hopes that people will donate to the cause. The cause being: Me and My Entertaining Self.) I watch the kids; I get paid in lovebucks. I am married; because of this I am well-shod, like a prize horse. He has also been known, my husband, to take me for dinner and a night on the town.

But a real job? Where you fill out paperwork and a W-4, and have to call your husband about how many deductions to claim (because when I work, we lose money. What with daycare, and taxes, and the cost of gas, etc. etc. ad nauseum) and it’s all a little baffling? That kind of work I haven’t done in three years. Yes, that’s right — he also had to do a Google map search for me so I could figure out where I was going. (Thanks, hon.)

Even though this is an employer I have worked for before, and I know where the building is. I actually had to go to two buildings, located ten minutes apart. I knew where both buildings were. I just spaced. Oh, please, like that never happens to you? I needed my husband to hold my (virtual) hand and walk me through this. Pathetic!

I cannot give you many details about my job or workplace, because in the words of the almighty Dooce: “Be ye not so stupid.” And don’t get dooced, fer Chrissake. I will tell you the following, and I will tell you in bullets:

* Someone nice is watching after the kids.

* There is a Baja Fresh by my work and I got a salad from there on the way home.

* I am now at home, after a hard day spent watching HIPAA videos, signing my name and writing my birthdate on numerous documents, and saying “Hello” to everyone. “Are you here to help?” someone asked me. “No, hinder,” I said, and winked at her. (The smart-alecky part of me needs to stay home while the rest of me goes to work.)

* It is a full-time, temporary job. It may lead to something. It may not.

* There is a sign in the bathroom at work that says, “Please flush the toilet after each use. Thank you.”

I may xerox this sign, on company time, and bring home two copies to post in my own bathrooms. Thank you.

Wacky Boy: “I made something for you, Mom. For Mother’s Day. At school.”

me: “Don’t tell me what it is!”

Wacky Boy, who had no plans of telling me what it was: “I’m not tellin’ ya!”

me, dying to know, was it the macaroni frames I saw spread out on the tables today??: “But I’ll give you a hug to say thank you for thinking of me.”

Wacky Boy, thinking it over: “I didn’t think of you. But my teachers did!”

Did I mention that we sent the kids back to school? 1) Our demands were met 2) hostages were released 3) I start my new job tomorrow. Work? What??? Turns out, if you apply for a job, you might get it. Then you have to go there.

(It’s full-time, but temporary. Two weeks, two months, or who knows?)