Today is the first day of Kindergarten for Ivy and the first day of second grade for Ozzie. Should be interesting as they both stayed up well past 9:30 pm, even though we put them to bed at 8 sharp. One of the drawbacks of going to school through the summer. Regardless they were both in good form this morning, with Ivy making sure she ate all of her oatmeal so she would have lots of energy.

No tears or hand holding for that one… she was off to her class in a flash, waving goodbye and ready for the day. I will freely admit to having a couple twinges. Our babyhood days are far behind us. We are entering a new era.

I always assumed that once the kids were both in school I would work outside our home. Now that we are there I can see many good reasons to stay here and only a few good reasons to enter the workforce, even if they are good reasons like $MONEY$ and good old fashioned adult interaction.

For one thing, we have a plan. The plan (very loosely made and easily changeable as it may be) is to have both the kids go to public school through 6th grade, then put them into a local charter school and homeschool throughout the junior high/high school years. We want the kids to have a good sense of being part of a community and learning rules and how to get along with others and basic language and math skills and all that good stuff. Their school & teachers do a wonderful job of that and frankly I’m not sure I have the inhuman amount of patience that would require.  Plus, they are on the spillover track which means that their classes are smaller, they only have 1-2 different teachers per grade (and they all work together) and they pretty much stay with the same kids year after year. (As a bonus we track on when all the others are off, which makes for very easy pick up & drop off!)

The charter school I have my eye on focuses on older students and they have the neatest programs, tons of groups, focus on interactive learning and individualized education plans. Why not let them get their GED at 16 and start college classes if they are up for it? Why not let them study what they find interesting rather then forcing them to learn and relearn and regurgitate the same material over and over and over? Why keep them bored, pressured, under-stimulated, overexposed and force fed the same football player/nerd/cheerleader/band geek social hierarchy crap just because thats what we are used to? I think we do a disservice to our children by not letting them pursue their own academic interests. I was greatly influenced by living in Japan, where it is common for teens to begin apprenticeships or vocational training if such was their inclination. The thing is, I have a beef with our school system. You may have noticed. But should karma decide to bless me with a young republican on the fast track to ivy league who wants nothing more than to play junior varsity basketball then that is what we will do. Its all up to them really. I just make contingency plans.

Second, I will actually have TIME. I can focus on my business, expand my services, help Jason with his business, maybe take a few classes, volunteer with hospice and join a writers group I have my eye on. I’ve no doubt I will be busy… I always am. While I may take an hour in the heat of the afternoon to laze about with a book I can guarantee you I will be up and running on to the next thing before too long. I have a hard time sitting still.

Third, I can continue to take steps toward sustainability for our family. This is actually something I REALLY REALLY want to work on. I want to see how much, by growing as whatever I can and cooking from scratch, I can save us on groceries. I want to quit using my car. Get a good bike with a trailer for the kids. Make spending money needlessly a thing of the past. (This will be hard, I love to thrift shop and bargain hunt.) Save as much as we can. Make my not working a plus for us financially… no daycare, no takeout, no paying someone to pick the kids up. Its not as if its a new concept… we’ve been going this way for a long time now.

Lastly, I want to be there for my family. I can’t remember where I heard it, but I remember someone telling me that as your kids get older they never need you any less… just differently. After school, sick days, half days, track off days, someone needs to be there for them when they get home. And I can’t shake the conviction that it should be me. Occasionally I make myself sick by being insanely happy at having a clean house and dinner in the oven when my husband gets home. What happened to my inner feminist? She’s there. And she is happy making a roast.  Nobody is forcing me to do this… I have a choice. And this is what I choose. How much more feminist can you get?

After weeks of feeling fairly smug because we were not yet melting into puddles of flesh by 11 am, the heat is on. The 7 day forecast has us at 110 and above for the next week. I spent this weekend cleaning up my garden beds, adding a few new ones, moving the chicken coops, planting Swiss Chard and more carrots, weeding, turning the compost pile and sewing. This morning I put up 6 quarts of grilled summer squash & eggplant. We can’t eat it fast enough to keep up and there have been grumblings and threats of turning into a zucchini from the peanut gallery. I, however, am hell bent on growing as much of our food as possible and have been thinking up new ways to use all the produce. This morning we had a big batch of Zucchini waffles!

Oh, and we went to the zoo. (Where I DID NOT slap someone else’s kid. Even though I REALLY REALLY wanted to. Said child was standing right in front of a giant sign that said “Do not feed or tease the animals.” He stood right by it and threw things at the Baboons. Things that no Baboon should have. His parents stood around going “Oh don’t do that…” “Sweetie you need to stop that…” but not actually making him stop. So I may have insinuated that if he didn’t knock that off he was going to end up with a face full of Baboon poop. He stopped after that.)

Last night we watched 10,000 B.C. Uggh. It was baaaaaaaad. Maybe I’m too picky. But c’mon!

I was fortunate enough to be a smart ass teenager with just the right sort of sense of humor in the 1990’s. Yes, I watched The Real World… although even then I found it pretty un-real. I also watched 90210, but only to make fun of it. (Remember the episode where Donna Martin saw purple bubbles because she had smoked some pot? She must have had the triple dipped green Alaskan thunderdome.) And because maybe I had the teensiest of crushes on that most vulnerable of bad boys, Dylan Mckay.

But then, like mana from above, MTV began airing The State and my fledgling love of the weird, irrational and bizarre in life became a full blown affair, one that continues, happily, to this day. Some of my friends liked it, my parents thought it was funny, but not that funny. Not funny enough to tape (yes on a VHS tape. That I had to manually get up and press record and everything…) every single episode. But I did. Man, I wish I still had that tape.

Since then, I’ve followed various members solo careers. Reno 911 is one of my favorite shows. (I even liked Viva Variety!) I love Stella. I thought The Baxter was great. I still watch Wet Hot American Summer at least once a year. But Michael Ian Black has been, and always will be, my favorite. I had a huge, teenage crush on him. That attraction has since faded, but my love for his writing and dry, stick straight twisted humor has not waned a bit. So you should probably buy me his new book: My Custom Van: And 50 Other Mind-Blowing Essays that Will Blow Your Mind All Over Your Face.

Go on, don’t be shy. Just get it for me. And after you order it you can read this interview of his over at Gawker and then thank your lucky stars that I have brought such wondrous joy into your life. Your welcome.

I have two beings, one on each shoulder. No devil horns or halos, just two mini versions of me, each with some very valid, logical points. Each with their own agenda. Each yammering at me. It never ends.

I guess I should begin at the beginning.

I’ve never had a career. I’ve had a lot of ideas of what I would like to do, even taken the initial steps towards establishing myself in some kind of profession. But I’ve never actually, ya know, done it.

When I was 12 I worked at my Grandma’s daycare each summer. I was still enough of a kid to enjoy getting paid to play with little kids. When I was 16 I got a job at Dairy Queen, where I worked until I was 20. (even while I held other jobs.) I liked it. I liked cooking, it was fast paced and I found most of my coworkers amusing.

At 18 I got a job at a local appliance/home furnishings store. It was my first desk job and once I got past my training period I would routinely finish all the work given to me in the morning within the first two hours. It was insanely, mind numbingly boring. I asked for more work. For some reason this angered my boss and my coworkers and I was too immature and inexperienced to stick up for myself. I stuck with it for six months until I couldn’t take it anymore.

After that I got a job working as a traveling house cleaner, which was actually pretty interesting. I worked alone, went to awesome homes and set my own schedule. The pay was decent. Until one day one of my customers decided to expose himself to me, then called my boss and lied about me when my reaction was not what he had hoped for. I was reprimanded, even though this particular client had a history of such occurrences. I quit.

I delivered phone books. I temped a few times. I continued to work at Dairy Queen. I started college classes 3 separate times… and dropped out 3 times. I had vague and blurry notions of nursing school… fashion design… veterinary school… chiropractic college… journalism… teaching… each new path burned bright within me for a few weeks or months. And then I lost interest. At some point, without even knowing it, I gave up. I just had no clue, no money, no experience and no real drive.

I got married. I moved to Japan. I taught English to little kids and senior citizens and young Okinawan women looking for an American husband at a funky little school near our apartment in Chatan-Cho. I loved it. I loved my students. I loved the fact that I had to make up my own lesson plans and most of my teaching materials. I did not love it when my boss began regularly sexually harassing me. (He was an American expatriate, who was later arrested for embezzling from the school he ran.) Apparently he did this to everyone who worked there and got away with it or lost interest after awhile. It frightened and disgusted me, but my paralyzing fear in the face of conflict kept me from giving him what for. (Sometimes I wish my now-self could meet him. We would have an interesting discussion. It might involve my fist.) Once again, I quit. I was pregnant and I rationalized to myself that was a good excuse.

When my son was a little over a year and we were moved back home for good I decided to go to culinary school. I love to cook and I was sick of not being able to figure out what I wanted to do. I figured I would always be able to work as a chef, so I spent a year in training. I loved it. I was good at it. But the amount of money I would make wouldn’t even cover my daycare costs. And the hours I would have to work didn’t quite mesh with mommyhood. And, frankly, I found the elitism, the militaristic rank of the kitchen ridiculous. It dawned on me that I might not be happy in that chosen field. (It should have rung bells in my head when my favorite part of the class was writing up my business plan for a restaurant project. I finished mine and ghostwrote several of my classmates in between class.)

I did a few catering gigs, here and there. I stayed in school taking writing classes, business classes and general ed requirements, but I never got a degree. I had another baby. I had a really severe bout of depression. I took a short lived but endlessly amusing job testing blood at a canine blood bank.

Once my daughter was about 8 months old I took a job at a hospital an hour and a half away as a diet clerk. I commuted for eight months. I ran mealtimes, calculated patient menus and acted as the admin assistant for the nutrition department. I loved it. I helped set up a new software system and helped train my department in automated ordering. My love of databases blossomed during this time period as I found myself analyzing and reanalyzing the sections and categories we had set up in my dreams.) But the toll of commuting and being away from my kids so much wore on me and when I injured my back and was literally unable to move, I quit.

I took a few jobs I was ill suited or grossly overqualified for, simply because a.) I felt I didn’t really deserve better and b.) I still had no idea what I wanted to do. I began working as an administrative assistant for a birth announcement company from home, which was an awesome job. But, I quickly learned that situations that appear too good to be true often are. My best friend and I opened our own business and then realized that life was pulling us each in different directions. We let go of that business and I opened my own. Within weeks I was getting clients and completing projects.

Running VVS has been amazing and rewarding and I would love to see it turn into something bigger. But I’m torn. The money I make is great… but spotty. And unpredictable. I’m alone an awful lot. I’m not now, nor will I ever be, a good salesperson. Sometimes I don’t really feel like an adult or a professional for that matter. I’m trying to learn web design, so that someday I might be able to add those services to my business. But, its difficult and every time I feel like I learn something I realize just how little I actually know. It feels daunting. Maybe it would be better for me to get out there and get a “real” job. Maybe I would grow and change and finally stumble into a career. Or maybe I have found my career and it just doesn’t resemble anything like what I ever thought it would. That seems to be normal in any case.

At any rate, my youngest child’s starting kindergarten next week has stirred up a lot of this internal conflict. I can’t go out and get a job right now anyway, since I will be dropping the kids off at eight, picking up Ivy at noon and then going back to get Ozzie at 3:30 and I can’t imagine where I would find a job that would allow me that sort of schedule. Or pay me as much as I currently make. Or allow me the time and freedom to work on my writing. And gardening. And sewing. And cooking. And then I think about how much I love doing all those things… and how much falls by the wayside when I work outside the home. Its a tough call. And while I feel like a heel complaining about it (since I know there are a lot of women who would love to be in my place) the feelings are there, nonetheless, and must be acknowledged.

Is it possible to feel like you are living the dream and still be peeking at the grass over the fence??

This week both kids are home before starting their new grades. Fully expecting not to get much work done, I’ve decided to declare a mini-vacation! We are going to stay up late, have a “camp out” or two in the back yard, watch movies, swim and do a whole bunch of nothing. I’m planning on staying off the computer… I feel the need to unplug anyway.

I do have plans to visit a pick your own spot to stock up on plums, apricots and peaches, so I will most likely be canning some of those as well. The zucchini and squash situation in the garden is reaching critical levels so today I will be making some “Zucchini Chips” and hoping the kids like them as much as they like other veggie chips. I plan to coat them in ranch and cheese flavoring, rendering them edible. Also, my eggplant bush runneth over… any good ideas for using up the excess? I’ve made rattatouille, without great success.

Ozzie’s last day of first grade is today, he gets about a week off before starting the new school year. And Ivy will start kindergarten!!

Yesterday Ozzie’s class had a performance for all the parents, something he has been really apprehensive about since it required him to dance with a girl. Unfortunatley it all was a bit too much and he spent the singing part of thier performance crying on his dad’s lap. But, he managed to pull himself together and do the dance with his class… crying the entire time. I tried not to laugh, but it was really funny. They had to do the tango, and he knew all the moves and gestures, but he had this grimace of abject horror on his face the entire time. Something tells me he won’t be volunteering for drama club anytime soon!

Ozzie also recieved an award for having a reading level above 3rd grade! (It’s actually 5th grade, but I don’t want to brag or anything :P) The credit goes entirely to Capitan Underpants, who Ozzie spent most of this year devouring.

Here is the video of the performance, he is in the middle with the navy blue and white striped shirt. It’s terrible quality, and I was laughing so hard it was hard to keep steady, but you get the idea!

My cousin Brandon & his wife Angela (who just so happens to be a kick ass gal and a good friend of mine…) have spent the past 4 years dealing with every parents worst nightmare… a sick child. It’s been a rough journey, and they have reached the point that there are no more treatment options available.

Angela will always have my utmost respect for the way she has handled her daughter’s struggles… consistently placing quality of life and the desire for Hadley to have as much of a “normal” (for lack of a better word) childhood experience over the gut wrenching terror I know she feels on a day to day basis. (Brandon too.. but I’m a mama and I just can’t help but think over and over “what if that were my child?” I hope I would have half the grace and insight.) Not to mention they have managed to raise two adorable boys, Keegan and Liam, move half a dozen times and live the military life on top of it all!

The time has come for them to squeeze every last bit of joy they can from the time they have left with their daughter. Its time to make some more happy memories that will last forever. To that end, they have set up a fund for “Hadley’s Magic Days”. If you can spare some change, they could use it. And you will be helping to make a sweet little girls time on earth just a little magical!! Donations can be made via Paypal… just send to FoxiFamily@yahoo.com. If you prefer to donate the old fashioned way, just let me know and I will get you their address.

Read more about Hadley and her family here. Thanks everyone!

It came to my attention this weekend that my house is dirty. Really, dirty.

I am great at tidying up. Put away the clutter, do the dishes, vacuum & wipe down type tidying. Real, elbow-grease fueled cleaning? Not so much. And then I wonder why I feel like my house is gross all the time.

I’m ashamed to say that I don’t regularly dust. (And I have some wicked allergies, so that makes no sense.) I clean out under my bed every… year. Maybe. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever polished my furniture. (Of course when your furniture comes from yard sales and Sauder it may not make much of a difference anyway.) I clean my cupboards out every so often. Baseboards usually don’t get done at all unless I’m pissed off at someone.

Sigh. So much for being a housewife, huh?

It’s embarrassing because, really, I have it easy. I have a washing machine… no wringing out pounds of wet laundry in the yard. I have a vacuum, a steam cleaner and a variety of magic cleaning solutions. I have Magic Erasers. (No, I don’t know what is in them and I DON’T CARE. So don’t tell me. I’ll be over here drinking hair dye and smoking crack while I remove Sharpie from the wall.) I don’t have a dishwasher, but I have two children rapidly approaching dish washing age. That is almost as good.

Yesterday all four of us scrubbed the kitchen. We pulled out the fridge and the stove, scrubbed the cabinets & walls and nooks and crannies. At the end of the day it was sparkling! Still old and fairly ugly… but clean! We made a pact to spend every Sunday doing some deep cleaning. All of us… and I think that will make a huge difference.

But I’m still not folding the laundry. *SHUDDER*

Last night was the George Michael concert at HP Pavilion in San Jose. In a word? PHENOMENAL. He is such a great performer… charismatic, charming and his voice… Oh my. Perfection.

He thanked the crowd for being George Michael fans and promised to make this show worth the 17 year wait. And it was! Every bit of it.

He was quite chatty between songs, something I really enjoy. I danced, sweated, screamed and sang as loud as I could for a full three hours… resulting in a VERY hoarse voice this morning. Phaedra and I had both wondered what kind of a crowd it would be. We were surprised at the huge variety of fans there.

I’ve been a hardcore fan since I was a very little kid… my mom loved George Michael and the first cassette tape I ever owned was “Listen Without Prejudice”. I used to sit in my room, all angst ridden, listening to “Praying for Time” and “Freedom 90″ over and over again. Over the years he has remained a favorite and “Ladies & Gentlemen…” & “25″ are still my guaranteed ass shakin’ playlists for when I want to display my less-than-stellar dance moves (or at least have fun while I clean the house!).

We sat next to two sixty year old women who were most fond of his WHAM days… and those ladies got down! Of course there was a huge gay population there and I saw several parents with their kids. Most interesting was the group of super radical Christian protesters outside the arena. I wondered if they were there just because of Michaels, ahem, extracurricular activities. A local who was also in line for the concert told me that they come out for every event, even protesting at Christian pop diva Amy Grant’s concert. At any rate, they made the wait in line amusing.

Thank you GM!! I’ll always love you, no matter how many homeless men you have sexy time with!

Yesterday, I had an unequivocally good day. Several times throughout the day I caught myself grinning, feeling just really… happy. Peaceful.

It’s not as if anything extraordinary was going on. I ran some errands. Cleaned the house. Gave my hens to a loving country home. Visited friends. Went grocery shopping. Still, I just felt really good.

Then, my wonderful, sweet husband walked through the door with these GORGEOUS flowers, just because!

The icing on the cake of a great day… I am thankful.

Oh, and TOMORROW I AM GOING TO SEE GEORGE MICHAEL!!! AAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!!!