While The Cat's Away

The mice haven't done an extensive amount of playing while the cats have been away. My husband and oldest son return home in two days. From all accounts, they've had a memorable time in Ecuador, and I'm sure it's been an unforgettable experience.

Most that has happened here in the meantime hasn't been particularly outstanding: too much eating, staying up too late, sleeping in. The boys went swimming at a friend's house, we spent a few days with their cousins (my brother's family), we took a trip to Chico to visit my husband's parents, and they actually travelled back with us and are here now. It's always great to be with them. So!...all good stuff and low-key.

EXCEPT. For those two episodes I could've done without. The Sunday before last, as we were preparing to head to Chico, my middle son came up to me and told me his face had just done this funny thing. His tongue had felt "hot" and strange and then the left side of his face did this "shaking" thing. That was puzzling and I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but I shelved the information and asked a few friends of ours (in Chico) who are nurses what it could have been. They weren't sure either, having not seen it, and so I didn't think a lot about it.

Tuesday night, late, he informed me that his tongue had done that funny thing but nothing else had happened. This could have been connected to the same thing, could've been nothing. Who knows.

Wednesday, however, as we were almost ready to get in the car to come back home, my guy came up to me, holding the left side of his face. And there, right before my eyes, my son was having some sort of horrible "attack". The left side of his face was contorting, over and over, and it seemed to go on and on. I looked over in horror to the nurse friend I mentioned---who thank goodness just happened to be there visiting with me---and she said very calmly, "He's having a focal seizure." I just held him while it happened, feeling scared and utterly helpless. As soon as it was over, he kind of went limp in my arms and his speech was very slushy. Finally, he was able to get the words out, "It happened again, it happened again." The strange aftermath was almost more frightening than the episode, but my friend assured me this was normal behavior after such an event.

It was very scary, to say the least, and very worrisome. I can't imagine how awful it must be for a parent to see a child in full seizure. I can't imagine it. This was minor compared to that but still highly unsettling. He seemed completely fine after it all happened and went back to playing while I felt more than slightly unraveled. We postponed our trip home and my friend Susie kindly went with me to the hospital where she works. Thank goodness she was there when it happened! It made such a difference to have someone with some training and experience and calming effect to kind of smooth the way.

He got a CAT scan and blood work done and all that good stuff. Everything was perfectly normal. PHEW. The big stuff could be discounted: tumor, lesion, etc. But then.....what was it?

Back home here, his doctors at the California Ear Institute are fairly certain that it was simply facial nerve stimulation, possibly connected to the implant, though they've never seen or heard of anything quire like what he went through. They feel like possibly sound thresholds were a tiny bit too high (Greek to most of us) and made a few slight adjustments. So far nothing has happened since. So far, so good. Before I proceed with any other doctors, I'm waiting to see if it happens again.

SO....the mice have done some playing; it's been mostly an unbumpy road. There were a few parts there that I could've done completely without. Totally. And I've had a little bit of two-rowdy-rather-bored-boys overload. A few days of peace and aloneness sounds heavenly! Maybe that's somewhere on the horizon. Meanwhile, the mice are preparing for the cats' return and looking forward to it. This mouse certainly is!

An Inauspicious Beginning

I had misgivings about the day when it started like this:

First, the 10-yr-old spills his bowl of cereal all over the table. We rush to clean it and manage to keep it from getting on the floor, his clothes, etc. Phew.

Second---we're running late by now---the 8-yr-old spills his entire bowl of cereal. All over his lap, his chair, the floor. All. Over. The. FLOOR. It takes much longer to clean this spill. He goes to change his clothes. By now we are definitely late.

On the way out of the driveway, I notice a bird behaving strangely. I watch for a few seconds and realize he's swooping down out of the sky, diving for a big cat and jabbing at him, flying back up and swooping down--peck--over and over. The bird was chasing the cat.

At this point I'm wondering if we should all go back inside, climb into bed, fall asleep, wake up and then start over.


**Nothing stranger than usual happened the rest of the day, though I kept waiting and watching over my shoulder.

Where Are The Fashion Police?

I am not the Queen of Fashion, I'll grant you that. If it were up to me, no one would be required to wear anything fancier than comfy sweats and T-shirts. Good thing it isn't up to me, I know. Not that I don't enjoy discovering fun and funky and pretty clothes and dressing nicely. I do...but just not very often I guess. I prefer my "play" clothes.

That said, I still have some definite opinions about the latest fashions, and one of these fashions seems to be low-cut jeans. I'd say there's about three percent of the female population who actually look good in these pants. (And yes, I know there's something tantalizing for some about the ole thong peeking above the pants. Fine; I'll give you that). So about 3 percent look good in this style but about 98 percent wear it. (I didn't do my math wrong, by the way. Three percent look good, 2 percent don't wear it and 98 percent do. See?) This style makes girls' butts look like boxes or rectangles. There's nothing round or curvy or lush. Just square and flat and boxy looking. What's attractive about that? (My 16-yr-old rolls his eyes when I mention this. Is it because I'm so out-of-it that I wouldn't think square is sexy or the fact that I would be mentioning a curvy lush bottom in front of him? I'm not sure.)

So there's the square butt aspect. But worse---far worse---than rectangle butt is the far-too-often too-small top and gushy middle that I keep being forced to observe. Why, why, would you walk out of your bedroom, let alone the house, with an outfit that showcases your rolls of fat around the middle? I don't think we can all have rock-hard abs or a model figure; of course not. But isn't there some middle ground between magazine-impossible body and excess flesh exposed and folding over too-low jeans? Part of me thinks---well, isn't it commendable that she's so comfortable with her body and who she is that it doesn't matter to her if she has rolls folding over the top of her jeans. And the other part thinks: GO CHANGE YOUR CLOTHES!!

I guess I must be getting old. When did that happen?

As If Anyone Cares

I have to say that even though their story has been plastered everywhere ad nauseum, I rather enjoyed seeing pictures of Brad and Angelina's baby. She's unsurprisingly beautiful. I guess I'll join the madding crowds of sappy gushers.

And in other Hollywood news (get it here!), my favorite eye candy is available again: Matthew McConaughey and Penelope Cruz have parted ways, which means he is up for grabs!!! (I didn't say it was newsworthy; but certainly it's drools-worthy).

Unworthy

This morning, early, my 10-yr-old climbed onto the bed and was lying beside me. After a few minutes, in a sleepy voice, he says: "I love you so much. I'm so lucky to have a mom like you."

I'm rich. And I've done so little to deserve it.

Various And Sundry

So it's been quite a spell since I've been on here. We were gone and then things got busy and then I realized I have not much to say that's interesting. It wasn't a new revelation.

But there are some things:

I have a new addiction. I've been bitten quite badly: internet scrabble. Could anything be more nerdy? It sounds crazy I know but it's quite fun. Regular scrabble can be a bit long and boring, but this online internet stuff is the bomb. I've played people from Pakistan to Scotland to the town next to mine. You chat with fun people, learn new words, stress about winning and have a good time. Try it! You can be a closet scrabbler if that's necessary. Check it out.

If you like music, tailer-made for you, check this out. Very cool.

And speaking of music, there is a band called Kind Of Like Spitting. It makes me giggle, but really---are we that on the brink of running out of names?

My husband and 16-year-old leave in three days for Ecuador. They're going to be gone for two and half weeks. My hopes for their trip: that they are safe, that they don't get mugged or worse, that they don't catch some funky sickness, that they don't get bit by something in the jungle, that my son gets a life perspective that will change him and help him see life in a new and better way, that they make new friends and have an excellent time and bonding experience. Meanwhile, what shall the mice here play while the cats are away?

A story in the news has stayed on my mind about two girls and a terrible mix-up. A carful of people were involved in a terrible accident when a semi crossed into their lane and hit them head-on. Many were killed and some badly injured. The identities of two girls (who looked extremely alike) got confused, and while the parents of one girl sat by the hospital bedside of their "daughter" who was bruised and battered terribly, another set of parents laid their "daughter" to rest neath the ground (they chose not to see her in the terrible condition she was in. They wanted to remember her the way she had been). Imagine the horror of the first and the elation of the second to realize that who they thought was their daughter was, in fact, the other's. Sounds like something from a Greek tragedy but instead it's an everyday here-and-now horrible mix-up.

And now, off I go. I think a scrabble game is calling my name.