On Again Off Again

little kid and I are no longer friends.

I mentioned to him that he's said this before, but he swears he means it this time.

You see, I'm ruining his "dzert" by not allowing him to open and sample random cans from the pantry. I told him he could choose some canned fruit to have with his lunch and he told me that I ruined his nice day and marched off to his room.

It's so sad to be him. So very sad.

He just came back in here to reaffirm that I have ruined his nice day and to confirm that we're no longer friends, and I assured him that I heard him the first time and thought the whole situation was unfortunate for everyone.

He was doing well behavior-wise for a couple of days. Between the promise of a Jeep ride and being allowed to wear his Batman muscles before bed each day, he really tried hard to stay on track and avoid getting strikes. That's all starting to fade though. He's losing more and more and caring less and less.

Interestingly, he has met his match at the little preschool class he goes to. He goes to the park for one hour a week to learn "math". The first week he came home and told me that his friend hit him. He was confused and offended, so I pointed out how much it sucks to be bullied (hoping he'd make the connection).

The second week he came home and told me that his friend ruined his rocket ship. He said he built a rocket out of blocks and his mean friend came and knocked it over. I pointed out this kid didn't seem like a nice friend and how much it sucks to have your stuff destroyed by others (hoping he'd make the connection).

The third week he came home and told me his "emeny" had called him a "teat and a wiar". "A cheat and a liar?" I asked, "Really?" Yep, he answered. I asked if he was cheating or lying at the time, and how it made him feel when the boy said that. Then I pointed out how much it sucks to have someone call you names (hoping he'd make the connection).

This week as we pulled into the parking lot, there was a police car out front. "Is dat a cop? Why's da cops here? You see da cop car? What's he doin' here? What's dat cop doin'?"

(We do not refer to the police as cops in our family, but we do watch Cops and I recently got mirrored aviator sunglasses and a new repertoire of "I'm a bad cop" type jokes. So, it is our fault, but accidentally.) After 32 "I don't know"s I finally answered that maybe he's there to take all of the naughty babies to jail. I waited for his reaction.

"Den my mean fwiend is really gonna be in twouble! I'd say he's goin' to jail!" he said happily, clearly not making the connection.

As I've typed this, he's come back out and reclaimed half of my couch cushion. "I thought we weren't friends?" I reminded him.

"I'm tired of not bein' your fwiend," he answered.

"I know the feeling. You need to be a nicer friend to me sometimes. You remind me of that mean boy from your class."

"Hey, hot lips!" he says angrily, since he has picked up 'hot lips' as an insult somehow (and I have no idea where he got that from, that one is not my fault, I swear), "You're da one who wuined my dzert! Sometimes you'z a bad fwiend too, woman!"

Friendship come and gone twice in this post alone. It's a frustrating way to spend the day.

Me and My Bike

So, I'm trying to get back into the habit of riding my bike.

The thing is, I'm not a great bike rider. That old "You never forget how to ride a bike" thing is just not true in my case. I just recently re-learned to ride a bike when Mr. Ashley bought me mine for Mother's day, and I fell once. Or twice. I'm embarrassed to admit that but it is true.

I'm also convinced that all approaching cars WANT to kill me. Not just accidentally might, in my head my seemingly nice neighbors are all just waiting to snap and kill an innocent bike rider. Or I convince myself that I'm going to lose control and crash as they pass, forcing them to run me over. I can't really believe I'm admitting that, as it makes me sound especially crazy, but I'm trying to give full disclosure into the bike riding situation (and we all know I'm an over-sharer).

But then I was on a roll with it. I was going pretty far and really liking it. Then summer came and it was hot and rainy and humid and I was over it.

I just got an mp3 player and want to start bike riding again to escape the house and to listen to my This American Life's podcast in peace. I went on a ride the other day and had a great time, until I realized that I had lost some of my previously gained stamina and was further from home than I would've liked. And had to ride back home into the wind. It sucked. I walked my bike a little of the way, and as neighbors passed, just hoped they would assume it had broken--because what kind of adult walks their bike?? An adult with really shaky legs, that's who.

Anyway, pretty sure I just answered my own question by typing out the above, but I got a baby bike seat at a garage sale...this is a terrible idea, correct? Bike riding will be much more difficult with 35 extra lbs attached, correct? It seemed like a good idea at the time, and I know it would be fun for little kid, but the reality of it is setting in and I'm thinking it's a bad idea.

It is, right?

Crazy New Idea

You know what totally crazy thing I've been thinking about a lot lately?

Adopting a baby girl from China.

This is not a new thought, but it has recently resurfaced. The other day Mr. Ashley and I were out at lunch when I said, "You know what I would like to do?"

"What?" probably thinking I wanted ice cream.

"Adopt a baby girl from China, or maybe Korea. In a few years."

"What?? Really?" he asked, appearing confused and worried.

"Yes," I answered, "I would love a little girl but I don't really want to be pregnant again."

"No?" he asked, looking a little surprised and disappointed.

"No. Not really. Ever. To get all fat again and have big leaky boobs and do the whole hospital thing and the hormonal post-partum thing? Breastfeeding again? Yeah, making babies is cool but it's really hard on me. I don't know if I want to do it again. Also, the world feels scary to me right now. I don't know if I'd want to bring new people into it."

"Oh. You really think you could adopt?"

"Yes! She would be my daughter no matter where she came from. Do you think you could?"

"Yes," he said cautiously, "I'd love her."

"I think the adoption experience would be neat. We would go to her country to get her, we would study her culture, we would all be so lucky to have each other. It would be as amazing but totally different from having our own."

Mr. Ashley looked a little worried. I think he was remembering the persistence I showed in wanting a Hedgehog. "Yeah. How much does that sort of thing cost?"

"A lot. Like $25,000 or so." I believe I saw a combination of relief and slight disappointment--or maybe it was fear that I'd find a way to make it happen. (although this may have been in my imagination, he could have been pondering his sandwich for all I know.)

"That is a lot. I don't know how we'd..."

"I know. I know. There's a tax credit. I could write a book about it. I know, I really do. It probably won't ever happen. But one day if it was possible could we consider it?"

"Could we name her Bailey Madison?"

"I'm over the middle name. I kind of like Amelia or Emilia. Or something else."

"No. You said Bailey Madison when we met and that's what I've wanted ever since."

"Yeah, but since then the name 'Madison' got popular. Your friend named his kid that."

"That's what I want. If we have a daughter, I want that to be her name."

So...we're already fighting about names. I think this is a good sign.

I also think the probability of me coming up with an extra $25,000 or so in the next decade are pretty slim, but it is fun to think about (and obsessively research...)

Dear Lindsay Lohan,

Drugs are bad....mmmmmkay?

You are 23 years old. You do not look like you are 23 years old, you look like you died 23 years ago and someone recently dug you up to drag you around weekend-at-Bernie's-style.

Are you aiming to be the next Courtney Love, without the talented dead husband?

You need:

1. to be quarantined
2. rehab
3. a sandwich

You make me puke in my mouth a little and I'm certain you smell bad.

Regrets (you gotz 'em, lolz),
Ashley

Custody Agreement

I just gave Mr. Ashley full custody of the kids.

It's been that kind of day.

I'm not moving out or anything. I'm just pretending they are not my responsibility. They are in their room yelling for me, and I keep reminding him that I gave him full custody. He wants child support and I told him I'd get right on that, but as of right now, they are screaming for me, Mr. Ashley is yelling that I'll be there in a minute, and I'm pretending I can't hear any of it.

Where the Wild Things Are

Oh, guys. Where the Wild Things Are was so good. So, so good.

After school I took the boys to the book store to read and purchase the book. We have a shabby soft cover somewhere but I was afraid it wouldn't stand the test of time and I couldn't find it anyway. I wish I had videotaped little kid's reaction to hearing the book for the first time because it was magical. His eyes were wide, scanning the illustrations, his little mouth in an "O" shape or in a wide smile. So sweet.

We were lucky enough to see this at the super swanky new theater in my city. The leather recliners were more comfortable and bigger than the couch cushion I usually share with the kids. I was able to drink wine throughout, which was unbelievably awesome. I sat right next to an alone, fat, mouth-breathing gum chewer who I know bought his tickets and reserved that exact seat at least 2 days ahead of time and he didn't bother me a bit because we each had so much space. Also, I could tell he was a dork like me who was a huge fan of the book and a few times I even felt like hugging him. (But I didn't, because that would've been weird and gross.) We did look at each other and grin several times.

I really don't even know what to tell you. If the costume and set designers don't win academy awards for this, then justice has not been done. I've never seen anything like it...every minute was a visual treat. It's just insane the emotion and character development of the monsters and how they were EXACTLY like the character illustrations in the book.

Also, Max Records, who played Max, was magical. At first I thought he was too old for the character, but he was a fantastic little actor who was full of emotion and who was so everything beautiful about little boys in one tough-but-vulnerable, medium-sized package that I was completely in love. I was especially touched by how much he's like little kid. He is naughty and mad and out of control and wonderful and imaginative and sweet and funny. The mom was great too, and the two of them together brought me to tears.

However, I didn't cry like I thought I would. It was beautiful and nostalgic and wonderful in every sense of the word and I did tear up at least twice, but for those of you who are afraid you'll cry the whole time because you did during the commercials, you won't. Also, it wasn't that scary. There's one scene near the beginning where the monsters gather in a circle and threaten to eat him--and that's a little scary, I might take a little scaredy-cat to the bathroom around then, and then one more where the main monster gets mad and chases him, but it was way less dark than I had anticipated. The monsters were mostly funny and endearing.

Before the movie began, I was worried I would feel let down since I had built it up so much in my mind, but that didn't happen. It was better than I had even hoped. The kids were entranced, Big Kid almost wet his pants because he didn't want to miss a minute. At the beginning, there's a rough ocean scene with Max in a sailboat and the waves are crashing and the cinematography was all crazy and our seats were vibrating with the sound, and Big Kid kept looking at me and saying, "Impressive. Are you impressed? I'm really impressed." Yep, I was impressed.

little kid sat at the edge of his seat, occasionally grabbing my arm and squeezing it or kissing my hand and smiling. As the movie ended, there was a slight hesitation and then someone began clapping. Slowly, shyly, the whole theater began clapping. I would say 85% of the theater stayed until the credits ended. Big Kid complained that it wasn't long enough.

When we got home we made a monster pile on the bed like in the movie, and talked about our favorite monsters and favorite parts and the boys begged me to read the book again. Mr. Ashley raved about the cast and I went on and on about the music and the visual effects and it's trueness to the book. I was wondering how they'd do it, with the book being a short picture book, but they did it. They didn't stray from the original concept, they just filled in a lot of blanks.

This seems ridiculously long, but I seriously loved this movie. I think childless people would love it, I think people who haven't read the book would love it, I really can't imagine not loving it. Even if you can't sit in a plush recliner and drink wine while enjoying it, you'll still love it.

When we got home, I told Mr. Ashley that if we had a 3rd child and it was a boy, I'm naming him Max Atlas and he said he would go for Max. He also didn't object to Atlas. This feels like a victory, even if I don't really plan on having a 3rd child.

Anyway, go see the movie and report back. Pronto.