We’re already missing our houseguest, April, who headed back to Beijing on Friday. She left behind a few things, some intentionally, others not so much. To the little man she bequeathed a nifty little tape measure/key chain that he’d become enamored of. To me, an old box of hardcore swag and a Wong Kar-wai DVD box set. Sadly she mislaid her pair of backup glasses and her contact lens case, which I didn’t notice until it was too late. Wish I could return them to her in person, but the airfare would be a touch spendy.

On Saturday we were slated to see a different out of town visitor, our brother-in-law’s sister from Sri Lanka, but another one unexpectedly turned up beforehand. My old pal Anton was here from Chicago for the one day Thrash Fest 6 at the Triple Rock. The little man and I squeezed in a quick visit with him at a playground near the venue, but had to cut it shorter than we would have liked…in order to retrieve the husband and head to the family function, which was fun too. Vegan chocolate cake was involved.

Sunday was the neighbor friend’s 6th birthday party. On girl power: though he enjoyed himself, my transparent little man was often confused and/or overwhelmed by the horde of 6 and 7 year-old girls…who could turn on a dime from insipid sweetness to overwhelming snottiness. It’s something he’s going to have to get used to.

And finally, some complaints and compliments:

• Farel Dalrymple’s Pop Gun War really is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. In a good way.
• Sam Brown finally updated Exploding Dog. I like these two best.
• I’ve found myself inexplicably exhausted all the time. I’ve been able to get the basics taken care of…ensuring we’re all well-fed, dressed in clean clothes, and the trash is taken out regularly…but I haven’t got the motivation for much beyond that.
• My favorite pair of old Levis are now sporting a large hole in the ass, and I’m not sure how many times I wore them before noticing it.
• I want my own bathroom. One that would forever be off-limits to males of the species, no matter how well-trained they might think they are.
• The roof of my mouth itches. Damn allergies.
• I’ll never give up my flip-flops.
• Fall is on its way in a hurry. The little man starts school one week from today, and the leaves have been turning for the last month already.
• Will have to listen to this a few more times before I make up my mind.

That should do it…for this, the last day of August. This week…enjoying Bee Season, and rushing around to take care of last-minute items on the old To Do list. This weekend, more out of town visitors.

All sorts of photos and stories to post…but not enough energy to make it happen. Maybe later.

I didn’t have to check to know that the pollen count in our area would be considered “very high”. The little man confirmed my suspicions. Earlier we were talking about color so I asked:

“What color are mommy’s eyes?”
(We have this terrible habit of referring to ourselves in the third person, and I swear, mommy didn’t start it.)
Instead of saying the usual “green” he replied with “red”.

And man, am I ever feeling it…and feeling hopeless and helpless after trying every allergy medication on the market, prescription and non, and getting the runaround from our doctor’s office and insurance company. Desperation led to sudafed consumption, which has only caused me to feel queasy and jittery while my nose still runs like a faucet. Right about now I’d love to move to pollen-free Iceland, if only for a little while.
Bonus: We’ve also just become aware of the fact that, because of the husband’s cornea transplant last year, he is ineligible to donate blood…due to some concerns about Creutzfeld-Jacob Disease (CJD). I’m damned sure the eye surgeon never mentioned anything about this. Fun.

I’m away from my computer for a day or two and all sorts of happenings, uh, happen. And stuff (need to catch up on sleep and/or increase caffeine consumption). Now hear this:

• Receptionista will be on National Public Radio;
• Rebecky designs a kickass clock for the new McSweeney’s-affiliated superhero store in Brooklyn;
• Kottke discovers New Wave;
• Chuck creeps me out (Defective Yeti has a funny story about it too);
• Pussy Ranch calls it quits;
• Lalaland posts one of my more “meh” photos; and
• A man has had a new, replacement jaw grown in his own back.

But not everything of interest is found online. Scratch that. Not everything of interest is initially discovered online. Our houseguest had some guests of her own come by for a visit last night. This dynamic duo told us about a television show called Totally Obsessed! that is hosted by our favorite funnyman, Fred Willard. One segment featured a woman who wants to become the fifth member of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I was so intrigued I found myself thinking about it when I woke up this morning. This is just one more argument against our household ever having cable hooked up. Knowing me I’d get totally obsessed with a show like Totally Obsessed! and things would get ugly. Seriously.

The little man and I are currently enjoying a rare treat…playing host and hostess to a house guest. My dear friend April has been living and teaching in Beijing the last couple of years, but has been stateside this month visiting friends and family across the country. We have her for just a few days as, sadly, she heads back to Beijing tomorrow afternoon. After which I will resume regular posting. Sigh.

Raising a special needs child is as wonderful and frustrating as raising any other child (I would imagine), but sometimes in different, unique ways. Our little man has Sensory Integration Dysfunction to deal with, among other issues. One of the features of which is that he’s still compelled to put any and everything in his mouth, as an infant does, for the tactile sensation. Now that he’s no longer an infant, however, my strategies have had to evolve. Instead of just snatching objects away from him, or pulling them out of his mouth, I first ask him to cease and desist. Then try to offer an explanation regarding why it’s a bad idea to have certain objects in his mouth (aside from their inherent filthiness, after he’s retrieved them from various floors). But it’s especially hard to cope with this behavior while I’m driving the car, with him out of reach behind me. Yesterday afternoon I happened to look back while we were idling at a stop light. He had a penny in his mouth. Our ensuing conversation was as follows:

Me: “Honey, please take that penny out of your mouth.”
LM: “No.”
Me: “Yes. It’s dirty, and dangerous.”
LM: “No it’s not.”
Me: “Yes, yes it is.”
LM: “No it’s not.”

*pause while counting to ten and taking deep breaths*

Me: “Honey, you could choke on it…and die.”

*pause*

LM: “You crazy mom.”
Me: *sighing, while thinking that’s beside the point*

LM: “I not going to die.”

Eventually he handed over the money, all three pennies and a dime, with great reluctance. Who knows where he’d picked it up. Perhaps on the floor at the hardware store. Yeee-uck.

I realized, after the fact, that we missed last month’s Dragon Festival. Doh. So Sunday evening I decided to break our self-imposed crankiness-quarantine, and take our chances at another annual event…the Japanese Lantern Lighting Festival at Como Park. An old friend was brave enough to join us, and even gave the little man and I a lift in his shiny new red Jetta, which helped to lift our spirits some. The gorgeous weather didn’t hurt either. And then there were the kites. Absolutely captivating.

More on-the-scene photojournalism from Dave and Huey-Ling in Taiwan. They bring us: Tinkle Body Razor…and other assorted goodies.

And, courtesy of the husband, two different versions of the “How to Fold a Shirt” instructional videos: 1) short and 2) long.

Bonus: If you have the patience, here’s a little (6MB) video of the Octopus kite in action (the tentacles were crazy cool). My host is currently a bit on the sluggish side, but will be upgraded next month.

A cloud of crankiness has inexplicably descended upon our household this weekend. We’ve thought it best to stay put in order to spare the outside world from our extreme crabbiness, but the boredom isn’t helping matters much.
To spare the little man from overhearing my vulgarities, I’ve found myself holding my tongue and instead flipping off the husband more frequently. Only when the little man is not looking, of course.
Back when the boy was still wee I bought him a pair of plaid boxer shorts, more for the novelty than anything. But he’s been wearing them the past couple of years, paired with a t-shirt, as summertime jammies. Sadly he recently became aware of the frontal opening, and now refuses to wear them on the grounds that they are damaged goods, having a “hole” in them. I’ve tried reasoning with him, and telling him that they are supposed to be that way, and explaining why, but it’s no use. Guess I’ll just have to sew up the front.
Speaking of sleep, not long ago the husband was exhausted after working two consecutive night shifts. Our bedroom is excessively bright during the day (note to self: acquire some room darkening drapes) and so he’s been wearing a sleep/eye mask. As he was stumbling off to bed I asked him why he had attached lego pieces to both sides of said mask. He responded “to keep the sleep fairies in”. Naturally he wouldn’t allow photographic evidence of this curiousity.

My current slothfulness is reaching staggering levels, even for me. Distractions abound and I cannot resist. Last week I read four books (two fiction, two non). This week has mainly been about teevee and video. It started with Olympics coverage, but segued into a few films…Va Savoir, Office Space, and The Maltese Falcon. And last night I found myself getting sucked into Firefly. I’m ashamed to admit, as a long-time Joss Whedon fan, that it’s taken me until now to start watching the ambitious yet ill-fated and incomplete season…a marriage of science fiction and old-timey western, not unlike my beloved Cowboy Bebop. At 2:30am I was ready to keep watching until I’d blazed through all of it, but some shred of common sense prevailed, a tiny voice telling me to get my ass to bed, as the little man’s wakeup call wouldn’t be too far off. I will resume viewing this evening, while attempting to savor each episode…but I’m not sure how well I can pace myself. I’ve been known to have poor impulse control.

Last I heard Minnesota was a swing state, but Yo La Tengo is skipping us on their upcoming pep rally/tour. The closest they’ll be coming is Madison. But Bush isn’t Saint Paul-shy. He dropped by yesterday, to hang out with his new buddy, our political soul-selling mayor. I had every intention of heading down to the DFL demonstration with the little man, to give voice to my disgust. But the rain clouds cleared up and the playground started calling us. So we ventured there instead, where, from the bluffs, the clear view of downtown St. Paul only served to remind me of my transgression…what with all the extra police cars and secret service vehicles converging on the Xcel Center. The helicopters hovering and circling overhead did little to assuage my guilt either. But the little man was all smiles, running and jumping and having an all-around good time. He even fell asleep without any fuss, while watching men’s gymnastics with mama. Before dozing off he was fixated by the floor exercise routines, telling me he was going to jump just like that. I’m guessing he had some pretty sweet dreams last night.