The End That Never Ends

One way to determine how obsessed mankind is on a subject is to look at how many synonyms there are for it. For example there are 38 synonyms for "money" while there are only 14 for "poetry" and 12 for "calculus".

That being said, I have a dilemma. I cannot get my children to stop enjoying humor about their...um...fannies, rear ends, bottoms, bums, butts, tushes, gluteals, buttocks, buns, cheeks, rumps, er..donkeys, and everything that comes out of them. This type of childish humor starts moments after birth with the first smile of delight after passing gas and ends, well, I'm still waiting.

Like most children, mine enjoy watching the various animated movies by Disney and Dreamworks. But I just roll my eyes and brace myself if there is any humor, however subtle, involving directly or indirectly a bodily function involving a rear end. Dreamworks' "Bee Movie" has been permanently dubbed the "Ah! Poo water!" movie in this house. You may have seen the movie many times and still don't know what I'm refering to, but my kids didn't miss it. When my husband's new construction project turned out to be a waste water treatment plant, well, things got a little out of hand.

I've tried all kinds of consequences - timeouts, grounding, no-sugar days - and they work, for a little while. But life does demand the discussion of such personals from time to time. Then before I know it we're back to "Ah! Poo water!". The ultimate, though, is when my little children got the not-so-brilliant idea to try out poo.com. Horrible mistake. It turns out it is a website with lists of links to kinky pictures and products. There have been no Frosted Flakes in this house for a long time.

So I've resigned myself to the fact that this may be one of those childhood ailments that has no treatment but just has to run its course. But I get discouraged at times, like, in a church meeting of all places, a speaker was recounting an experience he had on Lake Titicaca, and I hear a muffled giggle from my husband! This is going to be a long wait.
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Happy Birthday Ray !

My dear beloved friend Ray had a birthday two days ago and I hope she will forgive me for this late post ... I was uh... shoveling ash. I am happy to report however that the air has cleared and I have finally decided to get up off my ash and post. Every year about this time, I feel my heart swell with love and admiration for my good ol' buddy Ray. I'm not sure how old she is, but I know it's somewhere between 14 and 25, at least that's how she looks and also judging by the ages of the men who ask her out. ( deacons mostly ). Ray is an incredible person with what seams limitless energy whose hair, according to my children, seems to smile along with her friendly yet mischievous expression. Ray has an easy countenance which causes those who know her well, and those who have just met her, and strangers in the grocery store, to feel comfortable enough to share all sorts of personal information.. their life stories.. and their health problems with. This always amazed me because I am of a serious expression which works wonderfully to ward off unwanted social interaction. But not Ray, she bears all like a saint. It must be because of a good upbringing. She always said she learned kindness by serving her family,especially her siblings who look to her for wisdom and knowledge and consider her a genius .. at least that's what she says. So here's to Ray ! Happy birthday my wonderful bright friend who I love and adore more than words could possibly express. May this year be full of happiness and laughter ( probably at my expense )

Love, Ambie

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"Thar She Blows" !... Mount Redoubt loses her temper

Imagine your driving along and you look in your rear view mirror only to discover a giant dark menacing ash cloud that looks as if it's coming straight out of hell to collect your pitiful soul. Well that's just what happened to me Saturday night. Mt. Redoubt blew once again which had already been doing the past few days, still we were hopeful that the ash cloud would be blown the other direction as it had been doing. Believe me it was a little frightening to everyone in Anchorage. The airport shut down, as did the mall and many other businesses that feared damage to their electronics and such. We hunkered down for the night and watched through the window as the ash piled onto our car and turned the snow gray. The air smelled of sulfur and was as thick as pea soup. This was definitely up there on my list of freaky weird days.
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Why You Should Have Sympathy For Me

It's cold.

No, really, it's cold.

When late winter chills hit, the nation comforts and consoles itself as people keep their winter gear out despite the approach of Easter. But that sympathy is reserved "for the mainland only". As if compassion were as scarce as sunshine, I am left in the cold, so to speak, when I complain of the unseasonable cold here in Hawaii. When my fingers and toes are numb with chill, I am bereft of the kind warmth of sympathy or concern. All I get is derision and temperature one-downs-manship.

If a friend were suffering the pain of a broken finger, would you express sympathy, or would you wag your finger and say, "That's nothing! I've had a broken leg!"

Here's why you should remember me kindly as this seemingly endless winter rages on:

1. Insulation - I have none. Drywall in Hawaii is reserved for hotels. Most houses are built with "single wall construction" which causes the outside temperature to pretty much match the inside temperature. And while our lows in the low 50s may seem mild to you snow folk, I doubt you are sleeping in a 54 degree room like I am.

2. Heating - I have none. No heater. No fireplace. No way to warm my house or room if it gets cold. Well, there's always the oven. Coconuts don't burn well, as I've discovered.

3. Winter clothing - I have none. Heavy jackets, gloves, scarves, thick socks, or boots are just not to be found on this island unless it's brought from the mainland. I have taken to sleeping in a sweatshirt and a couple pairs of socks. My children wear two sets of PJs at a time. If I'm "soft" for complaining about temperatures in the 50s, then you all are "soft" for using Goretex and wool.

As I write this I can feel the chill seeping through my comforter (no down to be found here either unless I try to pluck a passing nene which, I'm pretty sure is illegal.) The end of my nose and my fingers are numb. And it's March for Pete's sake! So as you sit toasty in your heated, insulated houses with your wool socks and down comforter, just remember your poor friend in Hawaii who doesn't have all those luxuries, and shed a tear and write a word of sympathy.

No, seriously, I'm cold!
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My New Profession - Not Being a Doctor

My children have the uncanny ability to pick the absolute worst time to have emergencies. My daughter drenched me with throw-up at the beginning of a 5 hour whale watching trip. One son split his head open on a Sunday requiring an E.R. visit and stitches. The other son chose a night my husband was out of town to split his head open so I had to drag everyone to the E.R. I had a baby on my lap in an airplane with a blown out poopy diaper right after take-off. And on and on goes the list.

My favorite, though, is when my daughter lodged a popcorn kernel in her ear canal when we had been living in Omaha for all of two weeks. I didn't even know where a medical center was located, let alone have a family doctor picked out. I tried tipping her head way over and banging on the other side hoping it would just pop out. She wasn't too thrilled with that. Then I told her if we didn't get it out, it would start growing and she'd soon have corn shoots sticking out of her ear and roots attaching themselves to her brain. She didn't like that either, for some reason.

I finally found myself in an urgent care center I found in the yellow pages. We were ushered to an examination room where a doctor took one look and said he couldn't get the kernel out and that we'd have to go to an ear nose throat doctor. Luckily there was one in the same complex and he could see her right away. With a giant magnifying glass and tiny, needle-like tweezers, the ENT was able to get the popcorn kernel out all the while telling us horror stories of things he's pulled out of kids' ears including tic tacs, plants, and a live bee.

So the story has a happy ending. No roots implanted in brain.

Then we got a bill from the urgent care center for an "examination" - $169. Huh? The doctor barely even touched my daughter before he declared he couldn't do anything. Well, I couldn't do anything either. Where's my $169? In fact, there's a lot of medical procedures I can't do, brain surgery, heart transplants, amputations, well, maybe I could do amputations. But if you can get paid for not doing a popcorn extraction, I'd also like to get paid for not doing the other stuff.

Think it'll work?
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Homework Does Not Do Itself Observes Perplexed Eleven Year Old.

Anchorage,AK - Alexa is not sure how she came to the understanding that if she put it off long enough it would simply get tired of waiting and do itself. " I guess I just hoped for a miracle" stated the heavily homework laden preteen as she wearily rubbed her bloodshot eyes. " Oh for crying out loud in the night , if she would just get it done right after school on Friday we wouldn't have this problem." Alexa's mother told reporters while jerking the knots out of her daughters hair. Neither Alexa nor her mother could provide any further insight into why this same scenario seem to replay itself every Sunday night but both are open to further discussion on the issue pending a complete schedule overhaul.
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The Secret to Happy Marriage - Division of Labor

You've heard the phrase, "Too many roosters, not enough hens", or perhaps, "Too many chiefs, not enough Indians". These phrases are used to determine the cause of dissent and inefficiency within a group of people. To have an organization, a company, a family, or a team humming like a well-oiled machine, each person in it has to have a specific role that is suited to their strengths and abilities without too much overlap or interference with anyone else's role.

That's the foundation of a happy marriage. One person is the hunter, one person is the gatherer. So what happens when the hunter cannot hunt for whatever reason?

The gatherer might strangle the would-be hunter.

I've tried really hard to be a good supportive wife to my husband who is currently out of work. I'm sympathetic, I don't suggest that he's failed in any way to fill his role, I give him time and space to job hunt. But after three weeks of having him under-foot, I'm ready for him to go to work, and not just to earn money - that's the nice side-benefit. So here's the week-by-week unemployed husband progression.

Week 1
The first week was with filled with a flurry of emails, calls, and research as my husband contacted friends, former co-workers, and former bosses to see if any company was currently hiring. He also researched different companies and what they were currently developing. It's a rotten economy so there aren't too many places hiring and there are a lot of people looking.

Week 2
The next week yielded a few interviews with companies and a couple of recruiters. My husband actually shaved (I thought he was going to hold out until he got a job, but really, who's going hire Grizzly Adams?), got dressed and left the house. He felt good about how the interviews went and some of the anger and despondency of week 1 abated to be replaced by a nervous energy.

Week 3
Three interviews required follow-up interviews and requests for references and background checks. The digging up of contacts and research of week 1 has all but stopped since at least one of these follow-ups seems sure to yield an offer. The nervous energy has peaked. My husband has taken to pacing the house, throwing a plastic ball repeatedly across the room (practicing his curve ball, he tells me) and babbling (well, as much as he does). He did leave the house once to go snorkling with his sister, but he took his phone in a dry bag with him.

Don't get me wrong, it's really nice having my husband around so I can leave my little one home as I drive the big kids around to school and activities. He's been helpful doing dishes, folding laundry, vacuuming, tidying up, and it is nice having an adult to talk to all day long. But, he's always there when I want a little quiet time reading or on the computer, bouncing on his heels asking what we're doing, asking me to bat his curve balls, or suggesting beach-visits or kayak-trips. He's got all this excess energy with nothing to focus it on but me.

If absence makes the heart grow fonder, surely the inverse is also true.
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Humble Pie Blues

Wow, this economy is a real bummer. Everyone in the nation knows at least one person that has lost his or her job. In my case, the one person I know also happens to be my husband and the sole bread-winner for the household.

Adapting to our new financial (or lack thereof) situation, I've decided to cut back on discretionary spending. No more luxuries like cable TV, salon haircuts or pedicures. I will now only shop clearances and wholesale. No more eating out and only second-hand stores for clothing.

Wait a minute, that's how I've always lived.

The one luxury that I'm having a hard time giving up is the children's private school education, and those familiar with Hawaii public schools understand why. Luckily the current school year is already paid for, but the coming year is quite uncertain.

In the meantime, you will find me on the side of the road holding a sign that says, "Will work for pidgin-free education".

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Reunited....and it feels so good

When we ask the question, "my place or yours?", in the winter, there is no question. After more than a year, Ambie and Ray are actually within striking distance of each other, although we don't strike each other much anymore. Ambie is greatly enjoying not having to wear multiple layers and bracing herself for subarctic temperatures and Ray is enjoying having someone to talk to that is actually potty trained, mostly.

After ecstatically flinging herself, squinting and blinking, into the sunshine, Ambie is now nursing a 5-alarm sunburn. Experts believe that Ray may stop laughing sometime early next week.

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Baby Chihuahua

My little sister breeds Chihuahua's and I have to admit I am amazed that she can sell these little creatures for as much as she does. She makes a small fortune every time one of her females gives birth to a litter of what look to me like something closely related to the common New York Sewer Rat. People love these things, the smaller the better. My sister however has learned to hate them. She complains that they are nervous, shaky, and constantly in danger of being stepped on or plucked out of the yard by a hungry bald eagle which frequent her area. She and her husband carefully step around them and have only once had an incident which was when my sister accidentally let the back door close behind her and as it shut it broke one of the dogs legs..... I want one.
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