The Real Reason Some Moms Don't Cook...

"Mum...will you make a cake?"

"What for?"

"Uhhhmmmm....because cakes are delicious and I want one."

"No. I won't make a cake right now."

"WHYYYYYEEEEEE?!?"

"Because...Dylan...Most of my kitchen utensils are in the sandbox."

"...oh."

New Photography

"Snake"

"Lilly"

"Roots"

"Benched"

"Benched" is from Dylan's T-Ball opening day. If you want to view all those photos, have a look here.

Remember the Buddy System?

"Mum...Do you know what code yellow is?"
"No."
"Code yellow is practice for code purple. The principle dresses up like a criminal!"
"What does he do?"
"He wears a criminal suit, you know. Messed up jeans and a black jacket with spikes. He has a toy gun and he was pretending - and, uh - everyone thought it was real but me. He was a robber trying to kidnap kids!"
"What do you do when this happens?"
"We all freak out pretty much."

"...Oh."

"There's a code purple too."
"What happens then?"
"Bomb threat. duh."
"What happens when there's a bomb threat?"
"We all just jump out of the windows - even the teachers! But sometimes we just hide. But when there's a code blue, we all have to go to the side of the building, in the closet and hide in there."
"How long?"
"Until it's over. Someone takes cover cause it means there's a GUN threat. a GUN threat!"


We didn't have this when i was in school. We had nothing of the sort. We had fire drills, where we crossed our arms over our chests (why?) and walked outside in an orderly fashion really slowly (why?). We had tornado drills, where we curled into the fetal position and crossed our arms over our heads against the wall...as far as I can remember, that's it.

(We were also checked for head lice and scoliosis regularly. How bizarre. What made them decide to check for head lice instead of cavities and scoliosis instead of ... I don't know... carpal tunnel?)

Dylan was explaining this gun threat and he was so excited that he knew what to do. While I am proud my 6 year old son can properly handle a Columbine-type situation, I can't help but google every bit of information on home-schooling as possible...not long after realizing it's not an option. Instead, I will devise a plan that allows me to sit in front of his school all day long, watching for this gunman, who will undoubtedly be wearing messed up jeans and a black jacket with spikes. Hopefully work will understand why I need to set my office up to run out of the trunk of my car.

In all honesty, this terrifies me, as I am sure it does all parents. I do believe the school is doing all they can to protect Dylan and educate him without frightening him - something I can only do when it comes to germs.


In other news, I accidentally dropped the F Bomb in front of my mom today after work. Apparently, I was still in work-mode, where, sadly that is every third word out of my mouth. I immediately felt like a total degenerate, but I tried not to draw any additional attention to it. I also decided that I need a longer commute from work to their house so I can decompress and filter that word out of my vocabulary after I leave. . . sorry mom. Love you.

No...Seriously...Love you. You just can't tell sometimes.


You know, I was worried when I started this public blog that I would lose interest, considering I have the attention span of a circus flea. But today my mom told me how much she enjoyed reading it. I picture her sitting quietly whispering the words aloud (cause that's how she reads) and gaining some enjoyment out of it, and it making her happy. (well, happy for the most part. I'm sure I'll throw some typical Sarah stuff in there to disappoint. It wouldn't be MY blog if I didn't include some stupid shit.) And that makes it more worth the trouble. I like to think of my mom happy. It's a nice break from the normal disapproving glances she gives me and head shaking she does when she thinks I'm not looking.



"Motherhood...all love begins and ends there" - Robert Browning

New Photography

"Watts"

"Cutlery"

"Flatlands"

"Twelve Birds"

Six Years Of Boyhood

It's hard to explain the ride involved in raising a six year old boy. When Dylan was first born, I knew what a handful he would be. recently, he has shown quite a bit of initiative. I bought new drawer pulls/handle things for his dresser, which is a hand-me-down from a hand-me-down and hasn't had handles since it's third owner, which was two before me. Anyway, i tried to install (are those things installed? i don't even know.) And realized it was too complicated and that i can't use a screwdriver. Well...it's not that i can't...i just got so frustrated. Anyway, in comes Dylan...

"What's wrong mum?"

"I'm frustrated. I can't hold this thing and screw it in tight enough. I give."

"Lemme look at it."

So i stepped aside. I handed the screwdriver to this little man, chest inflated with confidence. He calmly inspected the situation and figured out what i was doing wrong. Turns out you have to hold the handle while spinning the screw, otherwise the screw will never tighten.I know, most of you are thinking "duh." And i was too, but you know what? I'm pretty damn proud Dylan calmly solved the problem.






I really hate to brag. I know he's my kid and you're all probably thinking "big friggindeal" but I'm impressed. Anything he does that doesn't involve legos impresses me.


And you know the best part about it? He didn't brag once after he fixed it. He didn't make me feel inferior for not being able to do it and that - right there - makes him automatically better than any husband...ever.

Moments later, we got back to normal...



Which brings me to my next topic. Dylan thinks he's a super hero karate thing who wears a belt and carries lethal plastic weaponry. Any other moms? dads? anyone? Is this normal or should i be alarmed he might be the first Caucasian member of al-quaeda?


I mean, he'll grow out of it, right?

RIGHT?!

Poosehbewts, our cat, isn't really amused by any of Dylan's antics. It's as if he knows what he is dealing with and wants no part of it. A generally playful cat, he takes cover the moment he sees Dylan grab his dart guns. That poor animal has gone through more than any domesticated animal should ever have to tolerate. From strings tied to his tail to being captured in a lego cage...and those are just the things I've seen. Lord only knows what Dylan has pulled behind my back. Anyway, at least the poor cat is smart enough to find a safe place to hide when Dylan gets going...







"Boys are beyond the range of anybody's sure understanding, at least when they are between the ages of 18 months and 90 years. " - James Thurber

Last Weekend Was A Barrel Of Monkeys!

So, last weekend, Dylan and I were planning on going to Lincoln Park Zoo, but later decided to stay a little closer and go to Michigan City. We parked at Washington Park, (parking is free until May, at which time it is $6.) and started out walking to the beach. Here are some of my favorites from there:









As you can tell, the beach was practically empty, with the exception of a few passers-by. It was a perfect day out. There was no breeze off the water, and Dylan was completely happy just sitting.
After the beach, we walked over to Washington Park Zoo. It was $10 for both of us to gain entrance and we absolutely loved this place. It was very rustic and intimate, and - again- pretty empty. There was also an observation tower. The zoo itself is surrounded by woods, and the observation tower was about a ½ mile long path of stairs that led up to it through the woods. It was a long walk that was totally worth it once we got there.

Here are some of my favorites from the zoo:

This little guy was hilarious. We were sticking a stick in and he would grab it with his mouth. He followed us as we walked along his habitat and watched our every move. we pet his head, too, even though we weren't supposed to. He just closed his eyes and enjoyed the attention.
This was the only bear at the zoo. I think he was a Grizzly. He was the best part of our day. He spent a lot of time at the glass with Dylan. He would press his nose against the glass and put his paws against Dylan's hand. It was really amazing to watch them interact. He was so hard to walk away from, but once we saw him rolling in the mud we knew he would be just as happy with or without our attention.
We thought this turkey was disgusting. I just really like the way the photo turned out. gross.
This is the observation tower. It's not nearly as foreboding as it looks in the picture, but it was a haul to get up there.

If you want to see all our pictures from this day, you can do that by clicking here.

Thanks for taking the time to look at our pics. If you ever get a chance, you should absolutely take the trip out there.

Welcome

Alright, so, after spending the entire day laying out this new, public blog, I am mentally exhausted and not sure what to say just yet.

I guess I'll start with: Welcome. My intention with this new blog is to keep an accurate record of mine and Dylan's daily lives while somehow remaining entertaining. I learned quickly that being a single mom is a remarkably difficult task and I think it's only fair that I find a way to make it all as amusing as possible. I think it's just as important that I document the humorous moments as well as the graceful moments in our days.

You'll all get to see frequently updated photos of our adventures and misadventures, and our accounts of these ongoings. I'll do my best to keep a fine balance between grace and chaos. I'll also try to include books and music and other things that make our days go around.

So, again, welcome to our days. Thank you for taking an interest....

"No one is free. Even the birds are chained to the sky." -Bob Dylan