We’re at the orthodontist’s yesterday, to get started on Phase I of Project Braces for my daughter with the crookedy teeth and the crazy jaw. (Estimated cost ’til completion of project, as of yesterday when we did a worksheet: $7,000. Insurance will pay: Nothing.)

“So, you’ll be next!” the tech says, perkily, with dollar signs in her eyes, to my son.

I say, “NO! He has my teeth! Straight! She has her father’s teeth.”

“Sorry, sorry, of course, I can see that now,” etc. sez the tech. “Did your husband have braces?”

“No,” I tell her. “My father-in-law has a thing against orthodontists.”

Today, Wacky Girl tells me, perkily, with dollar signs in her eyes, “We can’t eat out anymore. You’re saving for my braces.” Of course. Of course I am, honey. I can see that now.

Not ten minutes later she tells me I need to look into her brother’s mouth.

“There’s something real weird going on in there.”

She’s right, there is something weird going on in there. A great big grown-up tooth, his first, snuggling up right behind his baby tooth. (Which is not wiggling, by the by. Which is firmly holding on to its own real estate, smack up against the big boy tooth.)

She tells him, “You’re like a crocodile! With double teeth!”

He grins a big toothy grin at her.

“Maybe your great-great-great-great grandchildren will have the same problem!” she says, like this is the coolest thing that has ever occurred to her.

At least I won’t be responsible for their dental bills.

We’re seeing the dentist tomorrow.

“It was our own moral failure and not any accident of chance, that while preserving the appearance of the Republic we lost its reality.”

— Marcus Tullius Cicero, statesman, orator, writer (106-43 BCE)

The kids and I have had a great couple of weeks, swimming, celebrating birthdays, staying up ’til midnight. On Thursday we actually made it to the park to play and have free lunch. Yes, free lunch. Oh, free lunch, how I love thee. (more…)

Here in North Portland, sometimes I feel as if all we are is a glorified border town for Vancouver, Wash. You cannot buy “the good” fireworks in Oregon… but you can in Washington! So everyone drives over there, loads up, drives back, and on the Fourth, my entire neighborhood looks and sounds like it’s exploding. Yes, it’s illegal, but the cops don’t mind so why should you! Lock up your daughters is all I can say.

(This was not Wacky Dog’s favorite holiday, especially since “the festivities” start in June and end around mid-September.) (Dear departed Wacky Dog, I’m sorry I called you “stupidass,” you weren’t. You just didn’t like the bang and pop, that’s all.)

Also, Vancouver, Wash., as you may or may not know, is home of “the biggest fireworks show west of the Mississippi.” They shoot ’em off from a barge in the middle of the Columbia River.

God Bless the USA. Now let’s get into the habit of not bombing other countries, what say?

Damn. I’m ready to get back to what America originally stood for, which was what, exactly? Something about “your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…”?

We went to our friend’s house last night, and God love him for inviting us because we were right on the Columbia and that close to the best fireworks ever. Also, we went swimming in BOTH of the pools at his condo, and hot-tubbed. And had yummy snacks and ice cream sodas.

He invited us back to swim, anytime, and to watch the Christmas Ship Parade go by.

I hope he adopts us.

A little meme, to brighten up your holiday weekend. Funsize (and the whole Vixen crew), Happy Fourth!

The rules:

a) Link to the person who tagged me.

b) Mention the rules.

c) Tell six quirky yet boring, unspectacular details about myself.

d) Tag 6 other bloggers by linking to them.

e) Go to each person’s blog and leave a comment that lets them know they’ve been tagged.

OK, I’ll do most of this. Except d). I’m tagging ALL of you.

1) When I was a kid, I used to eat lemonade concentrate, frozen, straight from the can.

2) When I get stressed out I bake. Then I put on a few more pounds and get more stressed, then I bake some more. You can see why this is a problem? My solution: Give the extras away (to the chagrin of my children). This is the number one reason I need a permanent job — so I will have co-workers to bake for. (Some of my favorites are here, here, here and HERE.)

3) On days when I can sleep in, I’m up at 6 (like today). On days when I need to get up early, you cannot drag me out of bed. It’s like my mind is thinking “Snow Day” or something on my “free” days. I try, unsuccessfully, to fight this cycle.

3) I love being alone so I can knit or read a book. I am as much a bookworm now as when I was 9 years old.

4) My moods go with the Oregon weather and always have. We are both a little erratic.

5) I love strawberries and blueberries but raspberries? Not so much. Unless they’re sauced or in a jam.

6) Could I be more boring? I do not think so. Oh, yes. In the summertime, I hang out all of our laundry to dry. Every last bit of it, all summer. This is insane, but the sheets smell yummy.

Have a good weekend, y’all.

wm

feuilleton (fuhy-tohn) noun, masculine
: serial (program), soap opera

I’ve been trying to cut back on watching General Hospital. It’s not going that well. I love GH, as you may know, but I do not have an affinity for any of the characters right now. NONE OF THEM. Except Original Carly, who is now “Claudia.”

Sonny and Carly #4? Always yelling at each other.
Jason? Not enough sex scenes.
Sam? Never liked Sam.
Emily? Dead. Maxie? Dead. Georgie? Spinelli? Robin? Dr. Drake Jr.? The “hott” nurses? All stupid. (Do I have Maxie/Georgie reversed again, BF? I never really have gotten to attached to them. Sorry.)

Anyway. I want to get a life and this means less TV. I do have a pretty big addiction going for The Wire right now, so any free time is devoted to that. (I just finished viewing the third season, so NO SPOILERS please.) And am re-watching the entire series run of Curb Your Enthusiasm. Also, Friday Night Lights. (I’m re-watching Season 2 cuz I missed half the episodes.)

Are you a TV fan? It lures me in, every time.

Happy Fourth, those of you in the States.

Happy Birthday to my mom, aka My Kids’ Grandma, who several years ago gave them T-shirts that said:

I didn’t do it
I wasn’t even there
I want my Grandma

Happy Birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I decided to throw myself a small party for my 44th birthday, as I’ve mentioned here 10 or 20 times, and it went okay. You know why? Because instead of doing all the food myself I called out, “Potluck!” and everyone responded.

We had… (more…)

You know Dooce? She’s giving away a Wii on her site. So leave a comment! Yeah, you’ll just have to compete with the 12,000 that are already up.

This weekend… (more…)

If you make friends with the science teacher at school, chances are you’re going to end up babysitting the class fish for the summer.

Chances are this will turn into a “If You Give a Pig a Pancake” kind of experience, wherein… (more…)