A list!

1. The giveaway. Alright, here’s what’s what on the giveaway: I can’t decide. I like them all. There aren’t a lot. Everyone wins!

I’m going to email you guys with details and will ship out prints etc next week.

2. Thank you SO much for the perspectives on pushing the kids to do work they hate. Really, really helpful stuff. I’m going to re-read that entire thread often as this issue comes up in new ways.

3. Now here it is, midnight. Did you know that until the mid-1800s nobody paid much attention to what time it was? Stupid train schedules ruined everything. Before that you just got your kid to yoga class sometime in the afternoon, and soccer games were day-long events so you know, show up and start playing if you want to. It’s not like it matters! It’s 1837. Like any of this is going down in history anyhow.

We are studying the 1800s right now, so I’m full of exciting facts about western expansion and capitalist jerks running the railroads and corporate responsibility and the wild west and bison and trails of bodily fluids and Sitting Bull and inevitable wars and holy moly have you ever thought about all of the individual parts that had to be made before they could build a single steam locomotive? It was a lot of work! They didn’t even have power tools! How people stayed motivated to see that whole project through is a real testament to what humans will do for money.

Everything is all jumbled up, and I am finding the 1800s a little overwhelming. So much happened all over the place, so much changed. Even if you only focus on these United States — which is not possible but IF — it’s still crazy. Inventions, art, music, science. Emmigration, Indians, slavery. Factories, pioneers, wars, business, on and on.

My dad suggested following the history of New York City. Now that we’ve waded in and I’m overwhelmed I understand why a microcosmic approach might have been better.

4. So next week is the civil war. The boys are really excited… we live in Georgia afterall; battlefields are part of the scenery here. Nicolaus says he hates that he was born in a slave state. To him there really is no justification for the confederate side of things. Graham just thinks the soldiers wore great hats.

5. I think I forgot to tell you that my hair is purple now. And it looks weirdly natural.

6. We are on the verge of hopefully very exciting Nerdy Baby news. Hoping hoping hoping. It looks promising, but until everything is 100% definite I don’t want to say. Shhhhh I have said too much!

7. One of Graham’s pet fish died this week. Her name was Cutie Pinkface and he misses her an awful lot considering he used to forget he even had fish for days at a time.

We keep having conversations like this:
I’ll be talking about something nerdy, “… that’s why the job was so dangerous. It was a lot better once the railroads were forced to install the new coupling for connecting all the cars…”

“So the cufflink the thing that was cutting their fingers off?”

“Right. But it’s not cufflink, it’s couPLing.”

“Ohh! Why is it called that?”

“Well, a couple means two of something that are joined together. When you connect cars together you are making them into a couple… you are coupling them.”

And this is where Graham adds in a sad voice, “My fish used to be a couple, but the one that was named Cutie Pinkface died and now Spotty Head isn’t part of a couple anymore.”

Ooof. This weekend we might have to go to Petsmart.

8. The boys told me yesterday that it’s okay if they don’t get along well once they’re grownups because Graham wants to live in Egypt and Nicolaus wants to live in Greece. And those things are super super far from each other, like probably opposite ends of the Earth.

I made them go get the globe and each find their future home and oh no! We’re going to live close enough for frequent visits! We’d better figure out how to get along afterall.

9. I fell asleep for two hours just now, on the couch with a very cute dog curled up nearby. I forget what the ninth thing was going to be. If you ever have a chance to take a nap on the couch with a very cute dog, do it.

10. Because there should be ten things in a list, right? This week the boys earned money by helping me clean house and pack orders, then they spent that money on — swear to goodness — marbles. You know the sound of two dozen marbles rolling around on a wood floor? I do! I know the sound of two dozen marbles rolling around on a wood floor.

It’s a neat thing though. They study them, they talk about them, they trade them and make deals, they race them, they admire them in the sunlight. They do pretty much everything except play the game marbles.

It’s our last night in this funky apartment. I should be more sad, but instead I’m just — what is this feeling? I’m just sort of hanging out in space, not sad but not glad to be leaving either. We will have fun at the new place and I know it’s a good thing but this weird little caveish space has been nice to us.

Boy I bet our neighbors are glad to see us go. Graham outgrew his therrible threes just in time for the nice speech therapy lady to TEACH HIM TO SPEAK LOUDLY. Kevin hates her for what she did.

We’ve been packing and moving and packing and moving and why? Why are we so stupid? Moving was a bad idea! This apartment was FINE. Kids don’t need yards, that’s just spoiling them! We should never ever move. But it’s too late now, it would be more work to put everything back and so we have to keep going.

The boys are jittery and excited and super chatty. Nicolaus hasn’t been able to fall asleep at night, which OMG how can he not be tired? This child has worked harder than any adult who has ever helped us move. He used a little dolly thing to take a load of boxes or toys out to the truck every time Kevin made a trip out there. He helped unload. He unpacked half of the kitchen. The kid has worked almost every minute for the last two days. But then at night, he’s too keyed up to sleep and stays awake until 1:00 in the morning. He finally fell asleep tonight in our bed. Which might be why I’m having trouble getting comfortable. Kevin and I need to either lose weight, stunt the growth of our children somehow, and/or get a king-sized bed because this isn’t going to work much longer.

I might move to the couch in fact. This isn’t going to work and I’m too tired to move him back to his own bed.

In the meantime, Graham hasn’t helped much, but that’s okay. He’s littler and he has a nasty cold. We don’t want his germs all over everything anyhow.

The dog doesn’t seem worried at all. He hasn’t seen the new place yet; all he knows is that we’ve been clearing stuff out of here. Mouse used to always freak out and pace whenever we moved or packed for a trip or bought a different brand of shampoo, but Roux was brought into a house with crazy little kids in it when he was a puppy. He long ago resigned himself to the fact that a lot of the time he isn’t going to know what in the hell we are doing. He does like that we got rid of all our furniture. Wheeee! I can run around and around and around and not slide and slam into anything except maybe the refrigerator and this small pile of trash!

That was supposed to be the dog talking about running, not me.

So tomorrow, more moving. Then unpacking begins. Oh my god, I hate that part. This was a sort of spontaneous move so there are lots of boxes labeled MISC. this. Those are the worst.

1. How it’s going with the gluten.

First of all, I’d like to say that the word gluten sounds sort of slimy and gross. It sounds like it means little globs of Elmer’s in your food. This visual might help you stop eating gluten if you ever need to.

Not wheat. Wheat is a nice word, soothing and delicious. It sounds like a question. Who, what, where, when, why, and wheat. Like something from shakespeare: “From wheat did you come, good sir?”

So that’s why I’m on a gluten-free diet, rather than just cutting out wheat. It’s important to be scientific about these things.

As for how it’s going? I feel at least 75% better on this diet. It’s hard to quantify because really I don’t know how bad I’ve been feeling. I don’t know what normal digestive systems are supposed to feel like. But this feels pretty awesome.

Twice I’ve tried eating some bread, just to see what would happen. And both times I regretted it so. much. But I had to do it, had to know if I really had the resolve to give up some of my favorite foods. After one slice of pizza and the excitement that followed: yes. Yes I do have the resolve.

I keep thinking it would be funny to post my recipes for you every week, and see how long it takes the internet to notice that the recipes are exactly the same. I only eat like four different things. But! They are yummy and it takes away the hassle of having to think about what to make. I hate thinking about food. Food and I didn’t get along for decades. Now we are forming a fragile alliance involving peanut butter, rice, and corn tortillas.

Here is a typical day:

Breakfast:
bacon (the fancy uncured/no nitrate kind, freshly cooked by Kevin, whom I love very much on account of he cooks me all the bacon)
fruit
water
OR a handful of cashews because I’m too busy to eat and too stupid to remember that people who don’t eat don’t get things done good.

Lunch:
a baked potato
some kind of little salad
coke or unsweet tea

Dinner:
lean organic/hippie-raised ground beef mixed with organic salsa
1 avocado
brown rice
maybe some refried beans
shredded cheese
steamed corn tortillas
water to drink

Indulgent snack:
peanut butter (the kind that’s just peanuts and a little salt is my favorite)
hippie cocoa crispies
some brown sugar
all stirred together in a bowl. Then I eat it and pretend it is raw cookie dough.

That’s it. That’s all I eat. Oh sometimes the dinner is all stuffed inside a bell pepper instead of a tortilla, or instead of a potato I’ll eat french fries — but those are lamely subtle variations.

I’ve learned how to eat out. After the whole big thing with Pappasito’s I learned to be quiet. Never EVER announce your dietary restrictions at a chain restaurant unless you are feeling lonely and would like some attention from everyone who works there. Now I just use common sense about what I can and can’t eat, err on the side of caution if I have a lot of stuff to do that day, and go on with my meal like a regular non-freak person.

I’m not calling YOU a freak if you have dietary restrictions. No no! Of course not! I’m just saying that people who don’t are not freaks. See the difference?

So we still go out, only instead of a sandwich I get grilled chicken and steamed vegetables and you’d think I’d be super skinny now but no. Turns out all that crap about exercise really means something.

Oh and! I think I know why I was so sick with both pregnancies. What do you eat when you have morning sickness? A cracker or piece of toast.

So yeah. Fuck gluten.

2. Should I go back to the doctor and report and get a bunch of tests that tell me I can’t eat gluten?
I am tempted to blow it off since I’m doing so well on this diet and no matter what the test results say, the treatment is going to be the same. And I don’t really fit the Celiac profile. Plus — and this is petty — I’m pretty frustrated with the medical field right now. The idea of not going back for a long time sounds awesome.

Then again, it would be interesting to find out if I have Celiac Disease because it can cause other things I’ve had (migraines, fertility problems, chronic crankiness, poor taste in music…) and because we might need to have the boys tested if I do have it.

2. I found a printing company near me.
I feel so guilty when I get to the part where I have to tell the other printers that I didn’t choose them. It makes me want to somehow come up with other print jobs just so I can not make them feel bad. The two it came down to were both so SO nice. I really wanted to use them both, but finally went with the one who has a 100% guarantee and avoids exposing their employees to dangerous horrible chemicals. And it didn’t hurt that the owner of the company came to my house and was friendly to my kids, who show off for company like circus performers.

Whenever a new person comes here — the UPS lady or the building manager or one of my millions of boyfriends or whatever — I greet them at the door. The dog barks to let me know that I just opened the door. Then, while I’m standing there talking to the person, Nicolaus walks up behind me very quietly and holds up his pet bird. He doesn’t say anything because he’d prefer if people would notice and say nice things about her all on their own.

Then Graham walks up wearing minimal clothing and earnestly tells the person, “Just so you know. I’m really good at karate.” It comes off half-brag, half threat.

Then Nicolaus tells the person, “I am rich. I have a lot of gold. I found an 18 karat gold locket at the post office? On the floor? And then another time my mama? Found an earring and she was like pfff that’s probably fake and worthless but I? Picked it up? And it is REAL. Gold. And I also have this nugget? Thing? But it’s not solid gold. It’s just like copper or something, and it’s plated. With gold. I guess I have a lot of gold.” He’s started doing that six year old thing? Where every statement? Ends with a British question mark? I think its purpose is to keep you hanging on their story.

Then Graham says, “You want to see a karate move?”

Then Graham does a sort of violent pirroutte.

Then Nicolaus adds, “I also have a genuine Indian arrowhead…”

And then Graham grabs onto my skirt and acts shy and embarrassed.

“… and I also have an actual BULLET. From. the. Civil. War. Can you believe that a little six year old? Like just a KID would have a real bullet?”

And Graham starts spinning in circles next to me.

“…AND we entered a contest to win a life size statue that is a copy of a soldier from the real, actual terra cotta army. From China. And if we win it? I am going to put it in my room.”

More spinning.

“See my bird?”

In between all of this, I conduct business with the nice person and sign things and answer questions and don’t even bother pretending that my life isn’t completely weird.

3. Now I need to hustle and sell like $2000 worth of stuff in the next 30 days so I can pay for all of the printing I just ordered. So uh… tell your friends to buy some prints, see?

4. YES. The invitation to SciFoo turned out to be really real.
Kevin and I refer to it as the smart people conference. I can’t wait to meet all the smart people so I can personally thank them for coming up with steam-in-the-bag vegetables. Finally! After centuries of working on it, you guys figured out a way to use steam for something that makes life easier.

Is there anything else you’d like me to pass along to the smart people? Or questions you have for them? Lay it on me, and I’ll personally deliver it.

Graham says that every day. Sometimes he is right. Yesterday wasn’t happy, like at all. It wasn’t a happy day. It was a cranky, worrisome, logistical pain in the butt day. It started with crying kids and wet beds and moved into brother fighting against brother until they formed a tenuous alliance long enough to try and overthrow their unwelcome oppressive occupying parental force so that I was forced to spend all of my energy beating back a violent coup. Plus I have a cold. And UPS forgot to come get my packages.

And! I’ve been trying to order reprints of the nerdy flash cards, but couldn’t get my rep to call me back. I contacted the main office and sort of expected to hear that she had been laid off or buried alive or somesuch. It happens. But no! It turns out that the entire company is gone. What? How does that happen? And how do you not let your customers know until they try to place an order? So now I’m scrambling to find another local print company with an offset press that can give me the same great quality and prices without putting themselves straight-fuck out of business.

Meanwhile, the house became a sea of toys and clothes and art supplies and packing materials and backup hard drives and feral chickens and naked children covered in filth. Somewhere in the middle of packing orders and calling UPS and my credit card company and pressing 1 if this is correct, I had a great idea! I should rearrange the living room!

I didn’t do it, there was no way. But all day long I was distracted by oooooh the couch could move three feet closer to the window! And that would open up more of a walkway over here, and then the squishy chair could go HERE but at an angle. If only I didn’t have all these pesky other obligations and this danged chest cold, this living room would look amazing right now and we’d have lots more floorspace to fill up with crap.

I am determined to make today less of a not happy day. This morning I woke up before the boys and got all of my phone calls out of the way, handed things off to UPS, went to the post office. The cold is still dragging me down, but damn it ALL. We are going to have a decent day if it kills me, like even if the day actually digs a well and throws me into the well and MURDERS me. With a well! This IS A HAPPY DAY.

Last Saturday we shoved the boys and the dog and a great many of our belongings into my tiny toaster of a car and drove to Texas. The original plan was yay! Let’s go wander in the beautiful mountains and islands of the carolinas, but then we wrote four thousand dollars worth of checks to the IRS and suddenly a wandering vacation — even a low-key one — sounded nauseatingly expensive. So! Guess what! My parents have a room we can sleep in for free and lots of food and a television we can look at and people we can talk to.

So here we are in Texas, doing most of the same things we’d be doing at home. Running errands, buying packing materials at Office Depot, making block prints, getting to the post office in the last possible seconds before they close. But it’s a change of scenery and we like hanging out with my parents.

Oh and. Yesterday something awful happened. My parents got me an iPhone.

You don’t know how awful this is. I resisted it. I hate iphones. I don’t like people who have iPhones. It’s exactly the kind of douchey technological gadget that symbolizes everything that’s wrong with our materialistic western plastic society and OH MY GOD HOW MUCH DO I LOVE THIS FUCKING PHONE?

My friend Alana called me a swear word when I told her, which is both understandable and fine. Call me anything you want. Throw actual poop at me if you want to. I will download an app that makes my phone into a giant rubberized shit shield.

We’re heading back tomorrow. My butt hurts thinking about the 14 hour drive ahead… my xB’s only real flaw (other than being hideous, obviously) is seats that are zero percent squishy. Is there an app that will let the iPhone work as an inflatable cushion?