won’t you be my neighbor?

As we sat on our front porch this evening spying on… er… appreciating our neighborhood, we saw our new neighbors outside playing with their son and dogs.

MK: Hey, you done with your mimosa? Go meet the new neighbors.

CK: No

MK: Yeah. Go.

CK: No, you go. I have to drink this. Can’t leave the porch.

MK: Send the girl.

CK: Sure, K, go meet the neighbors.

KK: Uh NO.

Sigh. okay, I gave in. I took a big swig of my mimosa (I know I know, why do I drink mimosas at 6 o’clock) handed it to Mr. Kaos and took K by the hand.

KK: I’m not going anywhere!

CK: K I am just going to go say hi to the new neighbors.

KK: Oh, okay but I am NOT talking to anyone.

CK: Okay. You can be a mime then, just make sure you have the invisible box move down.


they’re not dead yet…

Last night I asked Mr. Kaos to stop by the local grocery for 1 very important reason (if I’m being honest 2 very important reasons).

Reason #1: It was sunny and gorgeous here yesterday and for some reason I wanted me a good ol’ Spring BBQ complete with grilled chicken and corn on the cob.

Reason #2: I drank the last cherry cola (2 of them were flat) and needed more before I had an early morning breakdown.

While he was at the store he found a great deal on something that we need like another whole in my head (for general reference there are a fair number of holes in my head already… I’m like Swiss cheese babies).

He was so excited he called me while leaving the store (a whole 12 blocks away) to tell me he got something so great I was going to burst. He wouldn’t tell me what but told me there were 2 (count them 2) of them and I was just going to be beside myself with joy. So joyous in fact that he asked me to come and stand in the front yard so I could receive my exciting Thursday evening surprise immediately upon his arrival. It was so good, so exciting it couldn’t even wait the 30 seconds for him to come through the door.

What was this joyous gift? Did he find amazing tropical vacations 2 for the price of one? A summer home and winter cottage all for the low low price of 19.99? No silly.

DVD’s!! What DVD’s? Only the 1st season of Soap AND the 1st season of Barney Miller.

Can you even believe the love?

What this prompted though, not love, an illness. Mr. Kaos has a problem which I call the “they aren’t dead yet syndrome”

He thinks everyone in Hollywood is dead long before they actually pass. Bringing home two 70’s TV shows didn’t help. He recalled fondly watching them as a young man and then calmly said how sad it is that Robert Guillaume isn’t with us anymore.

CK: He’s not dead

MK: Yeah sweetie he died a few years ago

CK: You’re doing that thing where you think someone is dead

MK: No, he really is, look it up.

I did. He’s alive. I showed Mr. Kaos. He couldn’t believe it. I showed him right here . He voiced a video game this year for pete’s sake. He had to give in, I was right (again) he’s always thinking people are dead.

MK: What about Angie Dickinson?

CK: No honey, she’s not dead.

MK: Can you look it up?

the sleepless nights of me…

In the ongoing saga of the sleepless nights of me last night was not a winner.

When I wake up in the morning I do not expect to be the happy go lucky hunky dory happy girl of the ages… but I expect some semblance of peace. sanity. quiet. Even if it is just for 6.78 seconds. Yes, yes this is where I start bitching, and no, you don’t have to stay around for my rambling complaint. It will be here whether you read it or not so feel free to come back next week when I may have something more cognisant to say.

For those of you who desperately long to hear me whine and complain… here we go.

Why don’t people (my family and cats in specific) respect the sanctity of sleep? We’re talking about my sleep in specific, but feel free to give me any thoughts on your families sleeping or non sleeping habits (you all can bitch too after all).

Yesterday I woke up to the loud excited sounds of K’s big voice going on and on about the dream she had. The first 3 seconds of her day were spent talking, the next 3 seconds were spent talking louder and it only seemed to escalate from there. By 1 minute into our day she had completed the “real” portion of her dream and was standing on my bed hovering over me expanding on the part of her dream she imagines she would have had if she hadn’t woken up yet. With a loud speaker.

It took all of my energy not to start screaming. Oh hell, it was yesterday, for all I know I did start screaming, let’s ask Mr. Kaos: Mr. Kaos, babe, did I scream yesterday when morning babble fest 2007 was occurring? I’m sure he will later tell me he doesn’t recall but since I scream all the time he guesses I did.

It was a rough go but I made a full recovery. I cleaned things, wrote (badly), made sidewalk art, cleaned more things, did a little organizing and tried to have a nice spring break day.

Today, the struggle continues. I’m afraid today is going to be more of an uphill battle because I don’t have a good night’s sleep to back me up this time. K woke up about every 90 minutes through out the night. She had strange requests. The one I remember the best is asking if we would please hold her hand. No. I don’t want to hold any one’s hand at 2 am 4:30 am or 6 am. Say I am a bad person, I just don’t wanna.

When I woke for the last time this morning it was 7am. I didn’t want to get up at 7am today. I had specific plans to sleep until at least 8 while I let K watch cartoons, didn’t happen. The nice sunny weather caused a severe need in Mr. Kaos for some very specific pants (that are in the laundry) and shirts (that are put away with the summer clothes). No one can sleep through that.

I agree though that he should have access to his shirts, I only wish I had been warned last night “Honey” I imagine he may have said “If you don’t get my light weight shirts out of the summer closet tonight… well tomorrow morning won’t be pretty”.

If I had only KNOWN I would have done the dutiful housewife thing and gone to retrieve them from the pile of summery goodness. I didn’t know. So I had to hear the frustration and insanity as he looked for them 1 hour before an important meeting. As I said, no one can sleep through that. After being roused from my pillowy bliss, being irritated and childishly slamming the bathroom door I went up to retrieve his shirts so he could get out the door (I hope) on time…

Maybe this should have been titled the on going saga of seasonal clothes & sleepless nights of me…

things that should be flat…

CD’s
DVDs
records
table tops
the sidewalk
pancakes
crepes
the floor
steps
my desk
griddles
flat irons

There are more right? I am too frustrated to think of more things that should be flat. Why am I frustrated? Because there is a certain carbonated cherry cola beverage that I drink. everyday. I drink it instead of coffee I suppose.

In order to have a victory of will and only drink one in the morning I put a single cherry cola can in the fridge at night before I go to bed. Why a can? Because the BIG bottle goes flat and the small bottle allows me to drink too much in one sitting. There is a science to it.

I will not drink it if it isn’t cold. It must be cold, and I don’t like ice in it.

It goes like this. I wake up, I feed K, I make myself something to eat, I take my medication with water in a little cup, I then open my luscious bubbly cherry cola and pour 1/2 of it into the little cup. Then, after I have carefully set down the can away from my computer, I sit down to do computer things, whatever they may be, and have that first wondrous sip of my cherry cola.

It’s like bubbly heaven in a glass to me. It really is. I often suffer the mocking of cruel acquaintances (my husband, life long friends and family) for my love of the bubbly sweet nectar, but who cares I LOVE IT.

However, this morning when I picked up my can it had a little more give to it than I was used to. I thought it was odd but moved on and continued my routine. By the time I had poured my drink into the little cup I knew something was amiss.

WHERE WERE MY BUBBLES? If you have read my (incomplete) list of 101 things about me you may know that I love the sound of carbonation. That sound was not there. It was as though I had poured myself a glass of juice. I DON’T DRINK JUICE IN THE MORNING.

It was flat. and I don’t know why. Maybe they didn’t fill it all the way. Maybe it had a microscopic hole in it that allowed the carbonation to fizzle away to nothing. Maybe it was a cruel cruel joke on me… whatever the case I am not so patiently waiting as another cherry cola sits in a pile of ice in the freezer. When it’s come down to the right temperature I will give it another chance to make me happy.

Flat cola. how disturbing…

friends…

Am I nostalgic today? Thoughtful? Full of feeling? Certainly I am. I am and I am.

It’s “Spring Break” and raining. Mr. Kaos is away on a 12 hour business trip. Stupid. K is home with me and has already asked if she can have an all day PJ extravaganza. I said yes. Sure. No problem kiddo, we’ll have a PJ extravaganza together. Do other 5 year olds use the word extravaganza?

So now in my thoughtful PJ extravaganza day I’m dwelling on friends. I have a hard time sustaining friends sometimes because I burn so hot and cold as a person. I can be 100% focused for a little while but then I flutter away, feather in the wind to light on something else. Just me. I find the people my heart gravitates to when some one says the word friend are people who I’ve known for years, long enough to wander away from and back to sometimes several times. Long enough for them to know my story and for me to know theirs. Those people I know, and they know me. They know if they suddenly have a bad day (or a great one) and haven’t breathed my name in 3 years they can find me and I will hold their hand. And I know the same is true of them.

They deserve a medal. Not for being MY friend (though I will gladly hand out a medal to anyone who has put up with me for more than 7 years) but for being my idea of an amazing human being. I watch them carefully through the years. Each friend is a beautiful magnificent person. Each one different.

I miss you all. Did I see you yesterday? Has it been 10 years? Have I never even laid eyes on you? I miss you. There are days I don’t know how I go on without you. In truth I just do. I have a lot to live for. My friends are a big part of that.

Friends, friends to be, friends who were: Thanks…

chalk it up to love…

Today my mom, who’s been staying with us for 2 weeks, went home.

Sigh.

Tap tap tap.

Sigh.

I can’t express how different things are when Nana’s here. It isn’t just the lack of privacy, champagne stoppers in the wrong drawer, good knives in the dishwasher, early morning babysitting, quiet evenings or the seemingly unending maid service either…

Things are just different. Good different, different different and after a few weeks PLEASE GO HOME different. Sadly it takes a minimum of 3 weeks for us to want to push her out the door and she was only here for 2.

The biggest problem of today was that I hate seeing the tears in K’s eyes when we leave Nana at the airport. When K was a baby it was always so hard to see her face as Nana (sometimes with Papa and sometimes without) headed through security on her way to the plane that would take her far far away. We told ourselves in time it would get easier to watch her go, to watch K watch her go but in 5 years it hasn’t, it’s gotten harder.

K was so brave and so strong as we made a day of Nana leaving. In the morning we had the quickest breakfast possible and then it was out to finish off our beautiful sidewalk art



See that smile? Can’t fake it, that is the happy smile. It is the -I’m humoring mama while she snaps the 200th picture of the day but look at all this art, the beautiful sky and my Nana, I’m so happy- smile. Because while I tortured her forcing her to look up at me and the glaring sun Nana was right by her side admiring the sidewalk, the birds in the sky and K’s patience with me.

Then we loaded up the car, climbed inside and took our mopey drive to the airport. There was parking, unloading, walking, revolving doors (always a big hit) and the sad lunch that seemsed to stretch on far too long as we prepared for the inevitable so long, farewell.

Sigh.

K didn’t cry until Nana was out of sight. She didn’t start the real waterworks until we were halfway to the car. I held her tight to me, her head resting on my shoulder as she gently sobbed. She didn’t need to tell us, but she did.

It sucks when Nana goes home

Yes K, it does…

the departed has left the building…

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I hold Martin Scorsese to a higher standard than I do other film makers but the fact is I just watched the Departed and I say BOO.

He won an academy award for that? Really he did? Why? Are we unfamiliar with other films he has made? Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Good Fellas. Yeah. He made those. And an impressive list of others as well.

If it had been some popcorn movie or made by some other directer I may have liked it more, but I heard such wonderful things about what an amazing and shocking film The Departed was. To me, it wasn’t.

Not just me, I should interject here that Mr. Kaos really didn’t care for it either. I would love to tell you what exactly he said but it was far too absurd and childishly potty mouthed. Plus I am writing this at 1 something in the morning and can’t remember.

Don’t get me wrong, some amazing performances were delivered. Nicholson was engaging and fun if a bit over the top and DiCaprio played his part masterfully. Damon fell flat for me and I thought Wahlberg was just a little TOO agro to believe.

To sum up, it wasn’t good. It wasn’t bad, but I wish I’d watched Good Fella’s instead…

march is just super…

March is like hell month here in the Kaos household. We handle hell well, we try to have fun with it but it’s still hell. That’s just what happens when you pile birthday on top of birthday multiply it by 16 and throw in family medical emergencies, Nana’s visit, arts & crafts overload and 17 parties for good measure. We like visiting the hell that is March, but we don’t want to live here.

So it is with a sense of relief that I start to poke my head out of my protective shell and look around… is it over? Are we there yet? April anyone?

Not yet. Almost. So soon I can taste it.

We have one more big March happening. One more big ruckus. A big bash. The birthday party.

THE BIRTHDAY PARTY.

The one where K and 9 friends will dress up like super heroes and hurl big round objects down 62 feet of glossy hard wood while trying to knock over 10 pins. Oh yeah people, we’re taking a field trip to the bowling alley WITH SUPER HEROES.

Do all those capital letters make me sound excited? I am. I really really am. I’m not sure if I am more excited at the prospect of once again donning my bat girl ensemble or seeing K in her new wonder woman get up. It could be the thought of all those little kids in super hero disguises or the pitchers of beer and taco pizza. I know, we’re not just normal crazy, we’re super crazy. You get used to it when you’ve lived your entire life that way.

I think what I really look forward to is coming home from the party, hanging up our super capes, setting aside our masks, basking in the family glow and reclaiming some sense of normalcy, because yes, even here in the house of Kaos we have normal days sometimes, most of the time really.
As the month of March (hell) fades into April and the days grow warm and wet the Kaos family will start to unwind and for us that will be just super…