Mischief

Text from Mary:  Cora just stuck a post-it note to Cole's back that says "Punch Me".

Currently listening to:  Flume - Flume

Night Terror

It is 2:00 in the morning and Gabe is awake and terrorizing everyone.

His favorite move in this situation is jumping on Cora's bed and saying "I'm jumping on my sister" over and over.  I don't know if it is her gentle nature, or if she is too tired to do anything about it, but she never lashes out at him for this.

I love the early morning.  Waking up at this time in the morning refreshed and ready to take on the day feels like a gift.  It feels like you are cheating time.  Everyone else is asleep and I am awake with these hours that I can use however I want.  The difference between Gabe and me is that I prefer solitude.

Of course, there is always a price.  Waking up at this time makes for a long day.  

Currently listening to: The Kleptones - 24 hours

Punch Buggy

I seem to remember that we would say "slug a bug" when I was a kid.  There were not that many Volkswagen Beetles in the town where I grew up, so the opportunity to hit your sibling in the arm and yell slug a bug did not present itself often.  I think I was aware of the punch buggy equivalent.

A few months ago, Mary reintroduced the concept to our children - without the punching each other in the arm aspect.  There is a classic (and slightly rusting) Volkswagen Beetle that parks on the street near our house and we drive by it almost every time we go somewhere.  A dismantled Type 1 (which I just learned is the official name for the Bug) is also mounted above drinking establishment we drive by on the way home from the city.  The bragging rights for getting the punch buggy on any trip is the subject of many joys and tears in our family.

Things were going along fine.  Then Mary introduced the phrase "pinch mini" when they see a Mini Cooper.

Keep in mind that we don't actually get to punch or pinch each other when we see these vehicles.  It doesn't seem to have a point to me.  I think the game lost its exclusivity.  To make my point, I made up my own phrases.

-Slap Ute (for the non-Australians, a 'ute' is short for utility vehicle and refers to a pick-up truck or what Americans would know as an El Camino)

-Poke Motorcycle

-Tickle Bike

-Trample Train

-Body Slam [Suzuki] Swift

Which spawned further inclusions:

-Bruise Bus

-Jump Jeep

-Doom Digger

-Tooth-out Taxi

-Coconut Crane (by Cora)

-Lick dog (only to be used when a dog is riding in a vehicle)

-Pineapple in the face Volvo (that little ditty was Cole's genius and is my personal favorite)

-Wedgie Ferrari (another one of Cole's)

It is now completely out of control.  The only redeeming aspect to this is that bouts of car sickness have been in sharp decline now that the kids are looking out the front window scanning for car types.

The milestone for us is that Gabe got his first legitimate Punch Buggy yesterday.  We were coming over the hill on our way home from a long and exhausting trip to the hardware store and he shouted punch buggy before any of us.  A proud moment to be sure.

Currently listening to:  Husbands - Husbands EP

Resurrection

I have declared blog bankruptcy.

That is when I have so much info to put on the blog that I delay writing a post, which then adds to the accumulation of things I should post, until it snowballs out of control.  And then to simplify the process, I just ignore two years of activity and start fresh:  declare blog bankruptcy; all blog debts are cleared.

I have done this with voice mails before.  When I need to be productive, I shut my mobile phone off and take the land line off the cradle.  It is a bit unconventional in a world of instant communication.  Some of my clients would be very irritated, but it is usually in an effort to keep my important clients happy.

Long uninterrupted spans of time are needed for important work to get done.  Anyone who tells you they can multi-task is telling you a lie.  Or they are talking about modes of work that are so simple that they were automated as part of the industrial revolution.

So on one or two occasions, I have had so many voice mails that I just deleted them all.  The pangs of guilt only last a few days.  When you realize that you have shaken the yoke of phone tyranny, it actually becomes empowering.

Cast your mind back to before we all had voice mail?  Conversations went something like this:

Person A:  I tried to call you the other day.
Person B: Really?
Person A: Yes.  I called a few times and there was no answer.
Person B:  Oh yeah, I was away for the weekend.  What did you want to talk about?
Person A:  You know?  I can't even remember any more.  It must not have been important.

And that was it.  If this happened often, you were known as one of those people who is never home and were difficult to get in touch with.

I am re-thinking how I use this mode of communication.  It used to be discreet stories that told you what we were doing.  Often revolving around some tooth ache inducing sweet thing one of our children did.  It may still be that.  But it will more or less be vignettes of things that I want to remember.  and if you and I were in the kitchen drinking coffee, I would probably have brought these things up as a topic of conversation.

Also, I might just end a post abruptly because I am done talking about a particular thing.

like this.

Currently listening to: Thelonious Monk - Riverside Recordings, Volume 8.

Semantics

Text from Mary this evening-

Mary:  Cole, please stop arguing with me.
Cole:  I'm not arguing.  I'm just thinking the opposite of you and saying it.