Archive for May, 2012

Tuesdays With Mooch & Fuss: Sand Trays and Gingas

Okay, so this video is from like a couple of weeks ago. Mooch and her buddies had a little roda at Olvera street. Side note: One of the vendors there, Mama’s Hot Tamales, had the best black bean tamales ever! No lard, no foolishness — just beans! I ate two of them. Anyway, here is the video (You’ll see her performing a stick fight, called makulele):

Fuss is doing pre-writing exercises now. She writes in a sand tray with her fingers, but she’s also tracing slanted lines and circles on paper. This is the part of her toddler-hood where she tries desperately to do what her sister does. Meanwhile, her sister is trying to master typing.

Oh, I totally forgot to write what Mooch is doing this summer! She’s taking swimming, Spanish, and musical theatre. It should be fun. The little one may either revisit gymnastics or do the summer program at a local art center. We’ll see.

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Marital Mondays: Movin’ On Up

H: I want to go up into our attic, so you should ask one of your friends if they have a ladder we can borrow.

M: My friends ain’t got no damn ladders. I would ask my dad, but if he has one, it probably has possum feces on it or grape jelly or something.

H: What?

M: His backyard looks like Sanford & Son. I’m afraid of it. Why do you want to go in the attic anyway? It’s probably gross.

H: Well, I want to put like a studio up there or have my own little man cave.

M: Unless you’re going to go up there and bake me some cookies like a Keebler elf, I don’t see that working.

H: Why not?

M: There’s boobies on your head. There’s boobies on your head. (shaking my boobs in his face)

H: What are you doing? Not that I don’t like it, but what just happened to me in the middle of our conversation?

M: I’m trying to convince you to stay down here in the couples cave. You don’t need a bat cave.

H: I said man cave. I’m not a bat.

M: Aren’t you, Hannibal? Aren’t you?

H: Myshell, I’m serious. This way, I can go up there and read comic books and listen to music and stuff.

M: (distracted) Ooh, look! If you Google “owl penis” my blog comes up!!!

H: You’re not even listening to me.

M: I am listening. You want to go in the attic and pull on your wangus while you look at porn magazines.

H: No, not that. I’m talking about some “me time.”

M: Sounds great, honey. As long as you take both kids up there with you, It seems like the perfect plan. I love “me time.”

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Tuesdays With Mooch & Fuss: [VIDEO] Owls & Mud Kitchen

Mooch finished an awesome research project on owls this past weekend. After she completed the Power Point presentation, which I made her struggle through on her own (so she would really hone in on keyboard shortcuts, typing, “save as,” etc), she decided she wanted to shoot a film for her project. She did everything except camera and editing. I did both of those, but she wanted to learn graphics, so any graphics you see were produced by her in Photoshop. She rocks!

Fuss had a visitor a couple of days last week and this week. We had to revisit sharing, and not pushing, and not premeditating assault with a deadly weapon. Yeah. The two had a lot of fun in the new Mud Bakery I made for the girls and jumping on our giant trampoline. Here’s Fuss and her old buddy.

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Marital Mondays: In Sickness and In Health

I had a bad side-effect to an antibiotic this past weekend, so I was really ill. During my recovery, I helped Mooch with her owl presentation, which you’ll see tomorrow on Tuesdays With Mooch. I also packed her for the All School Camping Trip. It was exhausting. Hannibal was super supportive! He even ran out to grab last minute vegan marshmallows for S’mores. Some days the partnership is the best part.

Also, Fuss was sick and hospitalized briefly last week for dehydration after a food poisoning incident, where she had apparently put her own poopy hands into her mouth. Fun! Hannibal came directly from the comic book shop with rice per her request. After three bags of I.V. fluids, she perked up, and we went home.

We haven’t had much private time since the move, with the exception of one date night to Mooch’s school gala. We still haven’t even seen the Avengers! I know, right? I’m trying to plan a get-a-way (not) during the summer for just the two of us. We’ll see how that goes. We deserve it.

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Tuesdays With Mooch & Fuss: Owl Penis


I took Fuss to urgent care last night after dinner, and I left Hannibal with Mooch to finish up her homework and see that she made her lunch, showered, and got in the bed. When I got to Kaiser, there were full families with two parents three to five kids in each. I didn’t understand why they dragged all of their kids out to a sick environment and disrupted their schedules, when one parent could have stayed at home.

Well, imagine my dismay, when I got home to find a fully clothed, filthy Mooch at the table Googling “owl penis” instead of resting in bed, with a packed lunch in the fridge! It was like one of those scenes from The Cosby Show, where Cliff messes up and Clair goes on a rampage. Except it wasn’t a scene from The Cosby Show, because they didn’t say “owl penis” on The Cosby Show!!!

Mooch is doing a research project on owls for school. She, apparently, has typed, “Do owls have sex?” as one of her research questions. I, of course, am fine with this question. I don’t know how the rest of the parents in her class would respond to a presentation on Owl Sex. So she spent an hour with Hannibal looking for Google images of an owl penis. I came home and in two seconds researched that they technically don’t have one. It’s microscopic, and it’s called a “crevecum.” An owl climbs on top of his female and squirts sperm from his cloaca into hers. Most birds don’t have dicks. Ostriches and ducks are among the few that do. *Sigh* I should have just taken the whole family with me to the hospital.


Fuss vomited on Sunday as we stepped into a restaurant, but I typically don’t do doctors for stuff like that. I figured it was something she ate or a stomach virus. I gave her some Temp-Assure and put her to bed. Unfortunately, on Monday, her fever persisted — reaching 104 degrees. I began to ask her if things hurt. For ears, she answered, “No.” Her throat looked fine. Then I remembered that she has been urinating more frequently — like twice per night. Normally, she sleeps through the night and doesn’t pee at all. I asked, “Does it hurt when you urinate?” She answered with an emphatic, “Yes!”

I packed her up and took her. She wouldn’t piss in the cup, because she didn’t have to go at that time. I gave her many chances and finally opted to have a catheter inserted. It was quick, and we got the urine we needed. The test came back negative. We went through a lot of rigamarole, but at least we ruled it out, and there are no antibiotics necessary. Now, I’m giving probiotics, and avoiding soy milk (which I think may be the real culprit). She’s so listless and cuddly and warm. It’s quite a contrast from her usual Tigger-esque nature.

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