Soccer Camp: Friday

"So... Soccer Camp today, Buddy? It's the last day..."

"There is too much action there. And running around. And dirt."

"I thought that those were all good things."

"I'd rather get my running dirt from home today."

"Sounds like we've got a plan."

Soccer Camp: Thursday

"So... Soccer Camp today, Bob?"

"No. No thank you."

"I had a feeling. Tomorrow's the last day, you know."

"Forever?"

"Let's see how we're feeling."

"I'm really feeling like not going today. I want to stay home with you."

"That'll be okay."

"Did you hear the outside?"

"What do you hear?"

"It sounds safe and perfect outside."

"What does safe sound like?"

"It sounds like wind and a bird and my wind chime from the porch, just a little."

"I think we should have breakfast in the backyard."

"Yeah."

Soccer Camp: Wednesday

Bob came into our bedroom at 2:00 am ready to talk. Right then. At 2:00 am. He wanted to talk about protocol droids (How are they different than medical droids?), raspberry lemonade (How do they squeeze out the raspberries?), and his favorite 2:00 am topic, death.

"But if Meda was very old and got sick, how old is old for dying?"

"Honey, I'm begging you. We really need to go back to sleep now."

"No, Mama. I am begging you. I have to do a talk right now."

"Bob..."

"Can I have a show?"

"No."

"Can we go back to my bed?"

"Yes."

"Can you read the news to me from the Google news on Daddy's phone?"

"Okay."

"How's the oil spill doing? Is it cleaned yet? Will it take 100 years? Did all of the animals die?"

"Let's read about it a little but by 3:30 we have to try and go back to sleep."

"Lisa Rosenberg!"

"Bob Rosenberg?"

"I love you!"

We slept in this morning. Sorry, Soccer Camp.

Soccer Camp: Tuesday

“Mama? I think I have a cold.”

I felt Bob's forehead. “You do? How are you feeling? What are your symptoms?”

“My main symptom is that I don’t want to go to Soccer Camp today.”

“I see.”

“Today I need to be at all the places that aren’t Soccer Camp and do a lot of not Soccer Camp things to make it better.”

So we took a day off from Soccer Camp.

Instead of Soccer Camp, we had a long discussion about the dream Bob had last night about "protocol droids, companion droids and lots of balloons."

Instead of Soccer Camp, Bob created five new robots out of robot magnets.

Instead of Soccer Camp, Bob had a play date with Mia and told her the story of Elemenopeo, the kitty who dreamed he could fly.

Instead of Soccer Camp, we had a medium-ish long discussion about why a super market is called a “super” market and if Super Man shops there. (Probably.) There was a related tangent regarding the existence of a Super Trader Joe’s. (There is not one that I know of, although it is an excellent idea.)

Instead of Soccer Camp, Bob went to J.P.’s house to see his new swing set and eat three pieces of watermelon.

Instead of Soccer Camp, Bob sang A Bushel and a Peck to Violet.

Instead of Soccer Camp, we had a Tuesday.

Soccer Camp: Monday

"Ch. Mom we are late for Soccer Camp. Ch. Mom, where are we going? Ch."

"Babe? What's with the 'Ch' noise?"

"Ch. I am talking into my finger phone, see? Ch. It's my finger but it is a phone and it makes that noise when I talk to you. Ch. Where are we going, Mom? Ch."

"Soccer Camp is at a different place than it was in June. I couldn't find the email they sent with the new location."

"Ch. So we are just doing driving around and around? Ch."

"If it's not at the middle school than it's probably at the other middle school. Am I supposed to be making the 'Ch' noise too?"

"Ch. No. Ch. I don't want to do Soccer Camp this time. Ch."

"We'll find it soon, you'll have fun and it's already paid for."

"Ch. Okay I'll watch. Ch. I will be walking backwards the whole time though. Ch."

Sticks

Don't be confused. These aren't regular sticks.
According to Bob, these are "The Super Best for Inside the House Light Sabers and Blasters Super Good Sticks."
(Just so you know.)

Smacksy Sunday Links

Do you think about food a lot and even more so now that you've found out you're allergic to almost everything that tastes good but you still watch Top Chef and everything on Food Network and have a girl crush on Ina Garten and invite Rick Bayless to all of your monthly potluck dinners (via Twitter) hoping that someday he'll surprise you and show up at your doorstep with a large pan filled with Pork and Fruit Stuffed Chilis in White Walnut Sauce? Yeah, me neither.
Ahem.
Even if you're not food crazy, you will still enjoy Canelle et Vanille - a gorgeous site filled with recipes and beautiful food photography.

You will probably think these Star Wars Sand Sculptures are pretty incredible stuff even if you are not Bob.

... And I like this cover of Crazy.

Happy Sunday.

Smacksy Saturday Photo: It's a Look

It's Saturday. Happy Saturday.

News of the World

"Mom? What are you doing with Daddy's phone?"

"I'm reading the news to see what's happening in the world. See on the little screen?"

"You should stop."

"Why, Bunny?"

"The world should just have more love, not news happening all over it."

"And that would be news worth reading about."

Our Travel Agent

We Heart It Photo

"Mom? I'm ready."

"For what, baby?"

"I'm ready to go to China now."

"Are we going to China? I didn't know about that."

"I think we should."

"Sounds interesting. What do you want to do there?"

"We can see lots and lots and lots of fireworks and some kites and the wall and then meet all the people."

"That sounds great."

"Or we could go in a hotel and stay inside it for three or maybe four whole years."

"I liked your first idea better."

"I am going to pat you on the shoulder right now, Mom."

"Thank you, honey."

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Photo ID

"Who is that guy on your lap in that picture?"

"Who do you think that guy is, Bob?"

"It's the tiny baby me, Bob Rosenberg."

"That's right."

"Mom! He's so cute I can't stand it."

"I know. I felt the same way. Still do."

"He's dreaming about swimming pools in that picture."

"You think so?"

"Yes. I know it for sure."

A Smell So Sweet

"No, Daddy! I don't need to wash my hair!"

"It's time Bob. We all have to wash our hair and it's been a few days for you so it's time."

"Not today!"

"You're going to see Mia tomorrow. I bet Mia likes guys with clean hair."

"Oh, yeah. Right. Mia probably doesn't like poo-smelling hair because she's a nice girl."

"Okay, that."

"You can wash it, Daddy. I will smell like grapefruits and clementines. For Mia."

"She's a lucky gal."

Lunchtime

"Bob? Do you want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or turkey and cheese?"

"I want a turkey and cheese and mayonnaise and bread sandwich. It's the best kind of sandwich. It's really, really good."

"Please?"

"Please."

"Okay."

"And Mom? You know what else is good?"

"What's that?"

"Bones are good."

"For lunch?"

"No. Bones are good for holding your body together and making it so you can have a face and do things."

"That's true."

"Mom? It's really, really true."

Smacksy Sunday Links

I love books. I love the feel. I love the smell. I love bookstores and libraries. I've long envisioned living in a home with floor to ceiling bookshelves with one of those attached rolling ladders like the one in My Fair Lady. So I adore this site I've just discovered, courtesy of The Diversion Project. It's called Bookshelf P*rn and really it's just that - photo upon photo of lovely bookshelves. It is glorious.

I'm always up for a new simplification method. I'm going to try some of these ideas, just to mix up my mess.

My friend Lora posted a link to this fantastic video last week and made my day.

Happy Sunday.

Idiots with Zoe Saldana & Kate Bosworth from Zoe Saldana

Smacksy Saturday Photo: How's It Going With Violet?

It's going like this.

Five Years

Five years ago today. Jeff and I eloped. We packed up the Honda, drove to Vegas and walked down the aisle of the Little Church of the West. Jeff introduced our Southern minister to the breaking of the glass and taught him how to pronounce Mazel Tov. Our friends and family watched along at home courtesy of the chapel's webcam. It was sweet. It was romantic. It was the happiest day of my life. And from then? Everyday is happy on top of happy. With Mr. Rosenberg by my side, even the sad days are wrapped in happiness.

Happy Anniversary.

Tell me in short, Love, what is a wedding? / A wedding is at once a crowded place / and a private room, packed with trusts / and empty of all but the heart’s letters / which one other heart may read and decipher let the compass points gather in one center / as rambling desires gather, as the circle / of abstraction, of invitation and guesswork, / becomes the circle of pledge and deliberate / speech: see, the circle widens to enclose, and in it / two are dancing and then it grows smaller / and in it two are colliding like sparks / and make one fire, and so Love, at least, has done her part […]
Poem excerpt: “The Blaze of the Poui: An Epithalamion,” Mark McMorris

Poetry found at unruly-things

My Heart

Bob and his girlfriend Mia started a piano class last week. Toward the end of Tuesday's class, it was Mia's turn to sit at the teacher's piano. As she sat down she requested that Bob sit next to her on the piano bench. The instructor, Miss Marija, said no and that Mia would need to sit alone.

Bob stepped back and took his place in line next to the bench. As Mia started to play, Bob reached over and gently placed his hand on the small of her back. And kept it there.

He really did.

Doing Their Part

Apparently they're now carpooling in the galaxy.

She's Got Your Number

Gail From Corporate kicks ass and takes names and then burns the piece of paper that the names are written on. Gail From Corporate will explain that you are not doing the company a favor by letting them pay you. Gail From Corporate will fire your lazy butt without consulting the in-house management. Gail From Corporate does that thing where she uses two fingers to point at her eyes then point at you to let you know that she is watching you and you are likely going down.

Gail From Corporate is my alter-ego. No, she doesn't work here but she knows how it should be done and she will nail you.

Gail From Corporate came very close to announcing herself at the Urban Outfitters on Melrose last fall. Her plan was to fire the hungover, chipped black nail polish, China Rain drenched, “sales department.” She would toss them out of the store but not before explaining that customer service does not involve forcing a long line of customers to wait to pay while you finish a cell conversation about what a hooker Devon looked like at that thing last night.

Gail From Corporate was talked out of firing the serving staff at her favorite breakfast place but not before she bussed all of the dishes in her section and refilled waters and coffees. Gail From Corporate does not do side-work but will make a detailed note of sloppy ketchup marrying practices.

Gail From Corporate thought it best that the young women in the Lingerie Department at Macy’s be put on unpaid leave while attending a brassiere-fitting seminar. Topic number one of the four day seminar would focus on the importance of having a tape measure on hand for foundation fittings instead of relying on Sylvie to “eye-ball it.”

For some reason, my family and pets do not acknowledge Gail From Corporate’s authority. Gail From Corporate will need to commandeer your phone to make a call to the home office.

A Little Shut Eye

When Bob was very tiny he spent many evenings backstage in nightclubs. He had some time in front of an audience. He spent hours inside recording studios while band members took turns holding him. He learned to sleep through any situation involving live music.

It's been a few years and now Jeff's back playing music again. His new band was in the studio recording over the weekend. Bob and I stopped by for a visit. We sat in the booth and listened. By the end of the second song, Bob was sleeping like a baby... a baby Bob.

Smacksy Sunday Links

Guys? This particular post from Mrs. Moon says it for me with a giant piece of Absolutely and a side of Amen-to-That.

Perhaps because Mr. Rosenberg and I will be celebrating our five year wedding anniversary this week, I currently have a crush on this blog.

Bob had his very first piano class last Tuesday and now walks through the house yelling, "Forte!" In honor of this, I bring you a sweet piano genius.

Happy Sunday.

Smacksy Saturday Photo: My Superhero

Bob the Batman in his jammies. Photo by Karen.

Violet, Less Blue

She was very thin when she got here and it wasn't because of a lack of available food. She was sad and had been living alone in the old green craftsman for four months. She had company a few times a day but it was no substitute for her lady. She missed her lady.

She's been with us for 10 days now. She has stopped hiding behind the washing machine. She lets us pick her up and hold her. She follows Bob around the kitchen. She will touch noses with Daisy the dog and has patience with our crabby, black cat, Pearl. She eats four times a day and she's gaining weight. She likes to talk and she likes to listen and she likes to hear her name. Violet, VeeVee, Violetta, Vi: she answers to all of them.

Jeff used to be allergic to cats.
I used to think I was a dog person. (Don't tell Pearl.)
And now?
Violet is ours and we are hers.

The Sensitive Type

Today the Jedi set aside his light saber and made a birthday cake in the sandbox and sang Hickory Dickory Dock, acapella. Yes, a girl was involved.

Forgiveness

"It's not a stick, Mom. It's a blaster weapon stick."

"Mama? How about I watch just one more show? I haven't seen that Kai Lan where she goes to China in one week or more than some weeks like maybe two weeks."

"I told you, Buddy. We're done with TV today."

"Mama, you are not my sweetheart!"

"I see."

"I command you out of the kitchen!"

"You want to try that again, Sir?"

"Now!"

"Robert Rosenberg..."

"You are not the boss, Mama! Darth Vader is the boss!"

"I'd like you to go out of the room and come back and try that again."

"Mama? I forgive you. You are my sweetheart and you can stay in the kitchen if you want to and you are the boss."

"I didn't do anything to be forgiven for."

"Okay. I'm sorry and then you can forgive me?"

"I forgive you."

"Thank you. I have to report to Darth Vader in my room right now. He is my other boss."

Secrets

1,000 words of Bob and Mia.

Four/4th

Bob rode his decorated bike in the Fourth of July parade.

He ate a hot dog and a chocolate cupcake with red, white and blue sprinkles at a friend's barbecue.

He participated in a number of squirt gun battles.

Laying on a blanket on the football field of the local high school, Bob watched fireworks for the first time.

"This fireworks noise hurts my ears but wow. Wow! It's red. Green! I didn't know there would be purple. There's purple! Wow! This is so cool. This is so cool. This is so cool. How do they get the fireworks up there? Is it a gun? Or a blaster? Or maybe a Storm Trooper. It must be someone with special powers that gets the fireworks up there - like a Storm Trooper or God or Batman. Yeah... it's probably Batman. Wow."

Wow.

Smacksy Sunday Links

I have always enjoyed a theme. Happy 4th of July, everyone.

The only Star Wars viewing currently sanctioned for our Star Wars obsessed yet Storm Trooper nightmare prone son is this clip on Youtube from the 1978 television gem, The Star Wars Holiday Special. It may not be scary to Bob, but I now have nightmares of my own.

Regretsy creator, pending bride, and all around awesome gal, April Winchell has a new column on Brides.com. It doesn't matter whether or not you are a bride, it is fantastic reading. Adore.

Catalog Living describes itself as, "A look into the exciting lives of the people who live in your catalogs." I describe it as the delightful site that will never again allow me to read a catalog without an urban-angst-make-believe-inner-dialogue. (I mean, in addition to the one that already exists on an endless loop in my brain.)

Smacksy Saturday Photo: Here, Kitty Kitty

There may be a new cat in the house but Pearl would like to remind you that she remains the alpha dog/cat.
Got that, everyone?

Modern Romance

Bob and Mia had a perfect playdate. Light saber fights and jumping on the bed. Sticker books and tricycle rides and everyone took a turn in the Yoda mask. There was an episode of Max and Ruby and a shared banana cut in pieces.

As playtime drew to a close, Mia put on her shoes and got ready to go. As Bob sat backwards on the couch talking to her, Mia reached out and in an instant Bob fell backwards slamming his head on the floor. As I recall from college, it's not really a party until someone is crying. Bob's wailing proved the rule.

Mia was horrified and fell into an epic shame spiral. Bob screamed. Mia's dad directed her to apologize. Mia yelled, "No! No! No! I don't want to be Bob's friend anymore!" Bob demanded to know why she hurt him "on purpose." I explained that it was an accident. He explained through gulping sobs that he would not forgive her. Ever. Mia and her dad and her baby brother managed to exit during the tumult. It was all quite Shakespearean.

Later that evening Bob announced at dinner that he had forgiven Mia and was ready to be friends again. A phone call was arranged.

"Hi Mia, I forgive you."

"I'm sorry Bob. I was just trying to kiss and hug you. I was trying to hug you all day."

"Okay. We can go to the park."

"Bob? Let's Skype*! Do you have Skype?"

"What?"

"Mia, we'll see Bob tomorrow morning at the park," said Mia's dad.

"Bye Bob!"

"Bye, Mia! Bye!"

And then guess which four year-old boy talked his father into downloading Skype?


*This is not an advertisement, merely a transcript.

The Look for Summer

The Birthday Suit.
(A classic.)