Let The Games Begin

 

 

A long time ago, in a state far, far away, I met a guy. Let’s call him G. We met one summer day in the hallway of the high school we were hoping to attend, after taking a personality test this particular school demanded to ensure that we were right for their establishment.  I believe his first comment to me was a wonderful mimicry of the test we had just finished, laced with sarcasm, my favorite type of humor.

“Do you like working inside or outside? Do you like working with people or by yourself? Do you like light or dim environments? Well, do you?!”

 

 

It was friendship at first sarcasm.

 

 

A few months later I met a girl. We’ll name her R. We chose the same vocation to learn during high school, and we became fast friends. Over the years, R and I have had many adventures together, and I can honestly say that I am a better person because of her.  And over time, my two friends G and R, met, fell in love, and they tied the knot. All was great! Except for that tiny fact that six years ago J and I moved far away and our families were separated by many miles.  Sure, we tried to visit one another, but traveling with kids half way up the east coast gets expensive and drives you batty when you are forced to listen to 12 hours of “Are we there yet? How about now? Now?” …. And that’s just coming from the adults. Ok ok not all of the adults. Just G.

 

To help combat the sad fact that it was more difficult to wreak fun havoc together with us being so far away, we would joke that it may be a good thing for the rest of the world to keep a few states separating us. G and I are the male/female versions of one another. As he well put it the other day on my FB page:

“Despite what you would hear, the reason for this separation is for the benefit for all of mankind. You see if we get together, sarcasm, at EPIC levels, will occur. The likes of which you have never seen!

I've seen brave men weep at just a few seconds of hearing us together. It's so bad it has been banned by the Geneva Convention…”

 

And while I wish that I could say that he has a tendency to exaggerate, aside from the Geneva Convention aspect, that’s pretty accurate. I’ve always wondered if he and I were somehow twins secretly separated at birth.  I blame him for my first F ever in school. Technically I can admit that it was the teachers fault. She didn’t know as all the other teachers did, to not seat us next to each other. She learned within one semester after she spent more time every single day, trying to get us to shut up and pay attention to the lesson at hand than she did teaching said lesson.

 

 

 

And don't even get me started on the three of us together in high school drama club. Even I can admit that sometimes there are some stories that should never be told. 

 

 We’ve all known each other now for over twenty years. You would think that we would have mellowed out with age. You would also be terribly, horribly wrong. What’s even scarier to the unsuspecting public is that we also have children that are only six days apart. Mini us, who will be in the same grade, year after year. It’s almost like history is repeating itself.  

 

But now the fun begins. Because last week G and R finally followed in my family’s footsteps and they have moved down here. Only ten minutes separate our households. After twenty years, we are now closer to each other than we have ever been, and I am not sure if this town can survive all of us, and our offspring, together.

 

The master plans have already begun. It’s not even time for kindergarten registration and we are already planning on how to get our kids together in the same school, the same track and sometimes, the same teacher.  And if we were hard to handle many years ago, I can already imagine the phone calls and parent/teacher meetings we parental units will be dragged into via the mischievous actions of our boys combined. I plan on gifting Soren’s future teachers with ample supplies of booze, just to stay on her good side.

Holidays have just become that much more entertaining (and loud). Who am I kidding? EVERY DAY has become more entertaining (and loud).  It’s been a week since they have arrived and every morning we all gather together for coffee and breakfast. I’ll admit that I am surprised that the local police have not yet stopped by to recite the appropriate domestic volume decibel level. Halloween, our favorite holiday of the year, is going to be amazing. For us. For the people who hand put pretzels instead of proper candy?.... Not so much (Yes, I’m looking at *you* mom!)

 

And for the first time ever, we all have a giant village in which to raise our children together. While we may not technically share familial blood, sometimes family is who you choose. And we choose each other. Add my mother into the equation, who lives ten doors down from G and R, and our kids will have more adults raising them than they will know what to do with. And it’s going to be awesome. Our kids will either grow up with the most fantastic rounded personalities, getting the best each of us has to offer, or we’ll be pooling our money into accounts to pay for our children’s therapy. Either way, our kids will have an interesting childhood that they will be able to regale their own children with. Simultaneously, G and R will, for the first time, have friends who also understand what it means to be a Parental Unit. With our new village of family, they will finally be able to go out as a couple, and relax, knowing that their child is being cared for. That is more precious to Parental Units than anything else you could offer them. A chance to recharge and remember why they thought having offspring was a good idea in the first place.

 

So. Here we are. Fast friends since we were mere kids ourselves, having children of our own, and now living closer together than ever before. All I can say local readers is this:

 

Brace yourselves. The fun is about to begin. And just in case it’s ever needed for legal matters, I blame G.

 

 

Bonding Over SoundBytes

The other day I was searching the web for information on an upcoming game that I am beyond stoked for, when I came across a gem of a sound wave from the first MMOPG I ever played, Ever Quest. If you have played this game before in your life, you recognize how this particular game was the platform upon which all other MMORPGs created themselves around. And if you have played this game before, you can also conjure up in your mind how much this game affected you in a thousand different ways.

 

If you don’t play games or have no clue what I am talking about, this may sound strange, and that we gamers overhype how much this particular game has changed our lives. And that’s ok. Only those who have played Ever Quest can really understand the importance of its existence.

 

Ok so back to the sound byte. I was perusing a forum about this new game, when I stumbled upon a post where the writer said this sound *HAS* to be in the new game. Curious, I opened the link provided, and nearly jumped out of my seat in surprise, a visceral reaction long ingrained into my brain from years spent playing Ever Quest and Ever quest 2 (you have to copy/paste the link, it won't open up automatically):

 

 http://www.rozziland.com/eq/skelatt1.wav

 

If you played EQ or EQ2 and don’t know what that sound is from you can now hand in your gamer card. You don’t deserve it. Hand it over. If you want to earn it back, go play on the FTP progression server for a few days and then come talk to me.

 

For the rest of you non gamers out there in bloggy land, let me take a moment to explain. My friend S, who hates when I geek up and talk games, you can go ahead now, throw your head back and start snoring.

 

That sound is from a skeleton, which would rise up out of the ground at any time and try to kill you to become its corpse bride. It would laugh the entire time it tried to decapitate you, which gave the fight a very sick feel, each and every time.

 

 

So of course I had to find a way to use it in my daily life! After fiddling around, I was able to make it into my text alert. Now, whenever my friends or family text me, I instinctively jump and glance behind me. No really, I do.

Xavier came home to find me fiddling with the sound, and he asked what the heck was it? So I sat down and gave him a history lesson in games. Being a gamer himself he was fascinated. And despite the fact that he never played EQ (unless you count him hanging out in our arms as a newborn babe while J and I played) he thought that the sound and the idea behind it was awesome. So he wanted it too.

 

After dinner, the two of us sat down and worked on our phones to have the skeleton laugh as our text alerts. Of course, we had to test it out. A lot. Just to make sure it was working. On both phones. Late at night. For at least an hour.

 

Thank goodness we have unlimited texting!

 

 

Point of this story is, our gamer family bonds over the weirdest shit. I can’t wait until Xavier gets out of school and starts texting me that he’s on his way home =)

Pretty Little Pottymouth

I'm  curser. When I'm out with my adult friends I could make a hardcore sailor blush within three minutes. I minimize my potty mouth around the kids, but I readily admit that sometimes I fuck up. In order to cover my arse, I have taught my children the golden rule to swearing:

Swears are adult words. One earns the right to swear by reaching the wonderful age of 18.

For the most part, my kids get it. Xavier does not swear, but does ask from time to time if certain words are adult words or accessible to him: like crap, suck, etc. I tell him it totally depends upon the context. If you want to say this sucks, I'm ok with that. However, yelling "You suck"! at the computer (or the G-rents) is not acceptable.

Ashe never swears. When he is upset, he opts for the simple use of volume, and screams so loudly that it is a wonder we have not yet used our savings to purchase new windows.

Soren, on the other hand, is still learning. And once in awhile, I find myself doing three things at once;

• slamming my head against the wall for being an idiot and swearing once too many times for Soren to parrot back what I say
• Informing Soren that, while his use of verbal insults has been used in the proper context, he is still not old enough to use said curse word for another 15 years
• laughing so hard at his little boy voice pronouncing "fuck" so perfectly, that I begin to cry

 

 



A couple of weeks ago our kitten Bax went missing, as she sometimes does. She refuses to meow when she is stuck somewhere, instead believing that at some point in time, her awesome family will find her. Either that, or she is just thrilled in her little feline way, of finding a good spot where she can hide from the boys antics for a few hours.

When the kids realize that Bax really is missing, everything stops and all three boys go a hunting. Up and down three flights of stairs they yell "BAX! OH BAAAX! WHERE ARE YOU??!" until they open up a closet door and find her hiding behind the Christmas tree, purring away.

This time, I was sitting on the couch with J, reading a book, while the boys were hunting for their feline companion. Up and down the stairs, up and down. I wasn't paying them much mind until I heard this little voice ask in exasperation "Where is that fucking cat?!"
"Soren!" Xavier gasps. "You can't SAY stuff like that!"
"Why not? Mom says it all the time."

I slowly lifted my head up from the kindle and sheepishly peeked over at J. Who was, of course, giving me the look of death.


My fault.



Not too long after, while the older boys were in school, I was sitting on the recliner catching up on the news while Soren played with his plushies quietly on the floor beside me. In each hand he held a Mario and a Luigi doll, and was pretending to make them talk to one another. This is fairly typical in our house so I wasn't paying too much mind to the actual conversation until it was too late.

Mario: Oh Luigi, what shall we do today?
Luigi: I don't know Mario. Hey let's check on Princess Peach
Mario: OK... (silence for a moment)
Luigi: Hey?! Where is Princess Peach?! Was she kidnapped again?
Mario: What the fuck...?


"SOREN!"
Looking up with an Oh shit look: "Yeah mom?"
"What did you just say?!"
"Ummmm... nothing. I wasn't talking."
"I just heard you."
"Oh no, mommy, that wasn't me. That was Mario!"

Ahh yes, that foul mouthed Mario, who just realized that his girlfriend has been kidnapped yet again by that asshole Bowser. Of course it was him and not perfect little Soren.


Yup.


And then there was the most recent incident.

Friday afternoon my mom dropped the boys off at home after a week of fun at her house. One of the first things Soren told me was the Ashe had insisted that he said a bad word, but he promised he didn't.

"Oh yeah" I say?
"Yeah Mommy. Ashe said I said shit, but I didn't."
"Well I'm glad you didn't say that word", I reply, trying very hard to keep a serious face to match his own.
"Nope, I didn't say shit. Ashe is a liar. I was mad that he said I said shit. Cause I can't say shit until I'm 18. Right?"
"Right" I respond, losing the war of the straight face. "And do you remember why you can't say those kid of words until you're 18"?
"Because they are grown up words. And I will be a grown up at 18."
"Correct."
Soren tilts his head to the side, considering his next words carefully. "Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"Can I say shit when I'm 17?"
"No, honey. Not until you're 18."
"Dammit."




I can't wait until these kids have kids of their own.

Video Games Live Symphony

***WARNING: This post contains a lot of photos.***

We have a ritual in our family, that after the end of the school year, J & I offer the boys a congratulatory gift. It's our way of saying thanks for doing your best in school, you're done so let's party!!!



Usually we offer the kids a monetary value so that they can buy something that they've had their eyes on. This is big, because the *only* times we parental units buy the boys something is if it's their birthday, Xmas, they have done something amazing and we want to say thank you, or the end of school. The rest of the time they earn whatever they buy through their allowance.

This year however, as I was in the car listening to my AM news radio, an interview with the NC Symphony was on and I heard about an upcoming concert that I thought Xavier and Ashe would go CRAZY for. It was the first ever in Raleigh, Video Games Live symphony: a symphony of music straight out of video games.

My thought was that this would be the perfect way to introduce the symphony to the boys. What a wonderful cultural experience, catered to their very hobbies!

J & I offered the boys the option for their usual shopping outing, or this unique opportunity for their graduation gift. They did not disappoint me, and by a unanimous vote, we were going to the symphony.

One of the cool side events going on would be a costume contest of your favorite video game character. Ashe was all set. Since he has been wearing the same Link costume on an almost daily basis for two years, it was a no brainer.

Xavier decided that he also wanted to dress up... mere hours before the concert started. Of course it couldn't be simple either. Oh no! It had to be something elaborate. He decided that he wanted to be Altair, from Assassins Creed.

Altair from Assassins Creed

I had no clue where to start. I don't sew well, nor did I have a random white bed sheet lying around the house. Instead, I tossed every article of fabric we owned around my bedroom, trying to figure out how the hell I was going to make even a similar costume for Xavier. Then my eyes landed on a black pillowcase, and I remembered that I had two cloaks I used for Halloween last year that might work. Add in my leather bracers, my calf high boots, a pair of khakis, and a plastic dagger.... and we might have something.

I whipped out the pillowcase, grabbed my scissors, and got to work. 90 minutes and 25 safety pins later, and we were ready for the symphony!

Xavier (Altair) & Ashe (Link) ready to go to their first symphony

Now, I was asked by friends why I didn't join the boys and dress up too? I love dressing up and would have done so except for one factor. Xavier was wearing 2/3 of my go to costume. I think the only two things he didn't use of mine were my leather pants (which I wore that night) and  my corset (which would have looked awkward on my eleven year old son, and I wasn't going down that road!)

Posing with the boys

While I did not get the chance to dress up due to my motherly sacrifice, J actually did! Not that anyone would know it. But I promise you, J dressed up as his avatar....his Xbox avatar. To prove to everyone that J thoughtfully picked out his costume for the symphony, I did a side by side comparison of J's Xbox avatar and J himself outside the symphony:

pretty uncanny how accurate that is, huh?

We get to the concert hall an hour before it starts. Within moments of us pushing open the doors, Xavier and Ashe were bombarded by adults, both in costume and not, exclaiming over how cute they were, or how cool they looked. Both boys ate this up, Ashe swinging his sword around yelling "HYAH!" or playing his plastic ocarina. Xavier would pose, head tilted down, looking up under the shadow of his hood, then pulling out a plastic dagger from his bracer. And the crowd ate it up like crack.

I put the bys names down for the costume contest, something I thought would be a simple affair out in the lobby. But oh no. When the time came for the contest to start, the guy in charge started leading everyone and their parents through a long corridor, down a set of stairs, and finally into a stairwell, where the contestants were prepped to go on stage. Huh. Didn't see that coming.

While J & I stayed backstage, all contestants walked on stage to a thundering applause. I was able to sneak out and grab a few photos and a quick vid of Xavier and Ashe:

Ashe & Xavier onstage with another Link, Princess Peach, and TF2 sniper

I wish I had stayed out a little longer to get the crowds reaction when it came time to vote. The crowd voted by screaming. The MC would put his hand over a contestant, and gauge the crowds reaction. When it came time for Ashe and Xavier, the crowd flipped out. I mean, you would have thought that we were at a Bieber concert and the audience was filled with prepubescent girls. It. Was. Crazy!!!!! It became clear that the winner was between the two brothers. The MC had a hard time, going back and forth a few times trying to determine the winner:

MC: Little Link?

Crowd: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

MC: Altair?

Crowd: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

MC: Link?

Crowd WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

MC: Altair?

Crowd: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

MC: Link? Altair?

Crowd: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

By one decibel, Ashe won, as J says, on cuteness alone. Xavier was extremely gracious about the whole thing, and seemed to be just fine knowing that it was only his height that made him lose. And while Ashe had his photo taken and posted on all sorts of media sites last night, both he and Xavier were treated like rock stars for the rest of the evening. If they went to the bathroom, they had to stop and pose for photos, high fives, and hair ruffles.

Photo of Ashe taken by the NC Symphony after his win.

Finally, we sat down to listen to the symphony. And I have to say, that while the tickets were quite pricey for a family as large as ours, EVERY PENNY spent was WORTH IT! We have not had that much fun in a long time. It wasn't a normal concert, where everyone had to hush hush. We were told to clap, whistle, scream, cheer, holler, any time we felt like it. And we did. Or maybe I should say *I* did. I almost lost my voice for cheering so loud, and I'm pretty sure that if anyone asked, J would have claimed that he had no idea who the crazy woman sitting by him and his children were. Someone should lock her up already! I was screaming and cheering more than I do at the Red Sox game at Fenway (and coming from a native masshole, that's saying something).

Xavier and Ashe, like me, were completely enthralled. While they did not know some of the older games (like Contra, or Castlevania), they cheered when Zelda, Mario, Sonic, and others came on that they knew and loved.

For four hours, minus an intermission, we sat and listened to the amazing journey the symphony took us on. And at the very end, after the symphony had given us one encore and had taken it's final bow, the co-creator of Video Games Live, Tommy Tallarico, and Laura Intravea (flute Link for anyone who watches youtube) came onstage, and started a sing a long with the audience, to one of our families favorite gaming songs, Portals "Still Alive" by Jonathan Coulton (one of our favorite composers/singers. Look him up, you won't regret it): 

After the concert was over, we asked the boys what they thought of their experience. And the one word they kept repeating over and over was that the symphony was EPIC. And now they want to know.... when can we go again?

Mission accomplished!



Educating Post Sex Ed

The other week, Xavier's class finally had "Health Class" which really means intro to sex ed. A few weeks prior, all parents were given a notice with the option to have their kids opt out. Poor Xavier didn't get that choice. We threw him into the deep water of embarrassing videos about puberty with the understanding that he was to ask questions both at school and at home if he didn't understand anything.

 I personally feel that sex ed is a very important issue, a life lesson that needs to be hammered into a child's brain again and again and again. Growing up, my mom was too embarrassed to discuss sex ed. Her idea was to let me learn in school, offer me the option of birth control pills when I felt I needed them, but then when I asked at age 15 (my monthly time was an awful 7 day hell of major pain and BC pills were supposed to help) she freaked out and screamed that I would turn into a slut and sleep with any boy who looked my way. I learned from the pitiful classes they had in school. I learned from books. I learned both good and horrible information, in the girls bathroom at school. And there was no way I was going to lead my children down the same path. My kids would learn everything they asked about in full detail, even if I had to suck it up and answer those questions that leave you red faced and trembling, wishing for a glass of vodka.

I've blogged before about having "The Talk" with Xavier and Ashe during different times in their lives. And knowing that sex ed was coming up in school, Xavier and I have been conversing about things he might learn, and how this was just a small portion of sex ed. I warned him that it would be embarrassing, but it was so, so important that he had to pay attention. And if he had questions, he needed to ask: ask the teachers, ask his dad, ask me. Anyone, so long as he asked. He promised me that he would, although he felt more comfortable asking me than someone in school. I actually felt pleased that this was so. I feel like I passed some parenting test, to know that my son felt comfortable enough to ask me questions about sexual health.

The day of sex ed came and I picked him up early from school. I asked him how things went. He said it was embarrassing. He learned about how he would get hair all over, including "down there". He wanted to know if he could shave it. I said sure, but it might be easier to wax instead. He blanched. He then said how he learned about how girls get their period, and how he was so happy he wasn't a girl. I agreed.

Then he said he learned how boys would have wet dreams. And I asked him if he knew what a wet dream was. And he said "Yeah, it's when you have a dream about wet things: like fire hydrants, hoses, rain and stuff."





........................



OK I admit it. I busted out laughing my ass off. Seriously though, who wouldn't?!!!


After I calmed down and my guffaws subsided into sporadic giggles, I explained what a wet dream really was. His face morphed into a look of horror as he began to grasp the full implications of what a wet dream meant for him. He asked more questions, I answered. Back and forth we went, covering everything else he had learned in school to make sure that he didn't have any other misconceptions.

And at the end, our deal was that when he started having wet dreams, if he didn't feel comfortable telling me, that was cool. All he needed to do was bring down his bed sheets and I would wash them for him, no questions asked. He was cool with that, and thanked me for being such an awesome mom. As we finished up the convo on sex ed, he said that if he had any other questions he promised to come to me and ask because it was easier to talk to me than ask at school. And I'm cool with that. Because if school is leaving the impression on kids that wet dreams are about water, than I have to make sure this kid gets the real information.

Soren's Bum Woes

The other day, after returning home from a doctors appointment, Soren and I were hanging out in the living room. I was reading a book while he poured over youtube videos of Agry Birds. Suddenly he turns to me.
"Mom, my bum hurts."
"Your bum hurts, huh? What kind of hurt?"
He starts to scratch his arse. "It's itchy."
"Ahh," I say as  I hop off the couch and head over to him. "I think we can fix that. Let's go wipe your bum and see if that helps."
"No Mom," he says "that won't help. I think I need to go to a bum doctor."

Packages

The kids go absolutely crazy whenever a package arrives on our doorstep. It doesn't matter if it's not for them. If the door knocks and the postman leaves a box on our doorstep, the boys will circle it like sharks coming in for a kill until someone finally opens it.

My mother in law loves to send packages to the boys every few weeks. She sends us our favorite Portuguese sweet bread since we can't get it here in NC. She sends the boys clothing. And sometimes she sends a little gift. It really doesn't matter what she sends, the boys adore packages.

I snapped two photos of the boys last time a package arrived. I apologize for the fuzziness, but it was on my phone, and the boys kept moving around. Like I said, they circle the package like a bunch of starving sharks.

After receiving permission, the boys go in for the kill.

He may be the smallest, but he won the battle of the package.
Notice the middle child down for the count in the background.

My Beaver

I have a beaver. Lately it has become the hot topic of discussion within my gaming community. In the past two weeks I have taken part in multiple Q&As about my beaver. I didn't even know there could be so many questions or comments about this single subject.

I was going to write a blog about my beaver, but every time I started I couldn't stop laughing and had to put it on the back burner. But then I realized this blog already wrote itself through the comments of my fellow gamers. Im going to do something a little different and post some of the questions I have had to answer over the past two weeks, along with my answers.


Is your beaver big?
Yes.

Is your beaver brown?
Yes

So you have a big brown beaver?
Yes, I have a big brown beaver

Is your beaver shaved?
Oh no! My beaver has its own natural pelt.

Do you pet your beaver?
Sometimes. It makes my beaver happy to be petted, so long as you pet it appropriately. My beaver does not like it when you pet against the grain of her pelt.

So other people can pet your beaver?
My beaver will let others let her if they play nice.

Have you mastered your beaver?
I'm pretty sure that my beaver has a few more tricks to learn.

Has your beaver ever tangled with other beavers?
My beaver has once or twice. However, while some beavers like to tangle, it just didn't feel right for me and my beaver. Now snakes are another matter. We love to tangle with snakes. The bigger the better.

Does your beaver make noises?
When my beaver is happy she squeaks.

Do you like pulling out your beaver?
I do! I always get a big smile on my face when I pull out my beaver!

Is your beaver shy?
Nope. My beaver loves attention.

Where did you find your beaver?
I found her playing by the river in Nektulous Forrest...........

















Dirty dirty minds, the lot of you! What did you THINK I was talking about????  Let's get your heads out of the gutter. C'mon now, up you go. Grab a towel and rub that filth off. Now, to clarify, this is me and my beaver:

In my game, EQ2, there has been a new class added not that long ago, called a Beastlord. I decided to try one out, as I loved the Hunters from WoW and its very similair. Like the Hunter in WoW, a beastlord can tame many wild animals throughout the land of Norrath. I also have a wolf, a hawk, and a cow named Bessie. But ahhh, the beaver! As a female gamer ( a minority, I assure you) with a dirty mind and sick sense of humor, when I came across this animal while riding through the woods, I of course, had to have it. My first thought was "OH! The possibilities of raunchy jokes are endless!" Thus, my beaver was tamed, and has since been the best conversation starter in game as I am surrounded by guys whose middle school potty humor mentality is forefront. And I, one of the few femmes in the group, can put most of them to shame.

Poor J has been a trooper as many of our guy friends ask about my beaver. He has gone with the flow though, finding the humor in it, and will affirm that yes, I have a big brown beaver thats quite playful ;)

Cuddlebugs

Something is in the air and it has affected my kids. I'd blame school for its rampant sharing of bugs, viruses, etc, but school was out when this situation started occurring. Maybe it was an airborne illness they caught at the park. Maybe it's some foreign, out of state cold they picked up on their trip to MA. Whatever it is, it's contagious, and all three of my children have been affected by it.

They caught what I call the Cuddlebugs.

My kids have never shied away from hugs or kisses when I ask them for one. But lately they have become aggressive in their cuddlings. Whereas before I would sit on the couch next to them and they would be happy with that, now they must climb all over me, trying to get as close as possible. I've caught myself saying repeatedly that They can't get any closer unless they crawled back inside my tummy. And they giggle, and then try to squeeze even closer.

I could get it if it were only Soren. But while he is the worst of the bunch, I even find myself trying to breathe as I'm smothered by Ashe. And while Xavier doesn't try to balance himself on my lap, I can't walk by without him yelling out that he loves me, or he crashes into me from behind for a sneak attack hug.


I almost want to ask them if they know something I don't. Am I dying? Am I sick? Did they have a vision which takes me away from them? What the hell is going on? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love a good cuddle, but I almost feel their eyes watching me as I try to sneak into the bathroom for a quick break for freedom. And the moment I return, my lap is smushed far down into the couch as the kids press down on me from all sides.

I surprised I was able to get this blog written down while the boys surround me. Forgive my typos, it's hard to double check my work when I type with only one finger while the rest of my body is muffled by little boys.

Gamers Pet Peeves

I haven't done a gaming blog in a long time. But I have been gaming a lot over on EQ2, and since our guild has decreased in size due to everyone playing different games at the moment, those of us who are around have joined an alliance of other guilds to raid. It's a completely different experience for me, not knowing everyone well on the team, not knowing if I can trust them to play their role as I do the best I can with my own. It's like being a nervous virgin every raid night, not knowing if you're going to have a great experience and love sex, or if it's going to scar you the next time you find a willing partner.

 I'm going to readily admit that I'm a raiding snob. I can't help it. I was taught to raid with some of the best players. I was taught to put my all into it, to have fun, but to also improve myself. I was taught to kick pixellated ass, the tougher the better. And if you make the same damn mistakes because you're too lazy to care, you're going to chewed out, and not in the pleasurable way. Because your team relies on you. You have between ten and twenty five other people relying on your ability to work as a team in moments of stress.

I'm also a DPS whore. I don't care if I don't play a pure DPS class, I will do my job AND try to kick your ass in numbers. And nothing makes me more happy than to leave others who play the same class as I do in the dust. I'm a competitive bitch and I like it that way.

That said, there are a few things that make me want to turn my virtual daggers away from the boss we're killing and turn it on my raidmates. And with a bunch of people I don't know, I've noticed those tendencies seem to come out a little more often than normal. I've been fortunate enough to have my core group on hand to gripe with when we see piss poor stuff and wipe due to it. And I can't complain too much. It could always be worse. I could be not raiding. I could be dealing with an asshole raid leader. Hell, I could be Raid Leader myself.... *gulp*

But since this is my blog and I can get away with it, here is a list of gaming pet peeves that make me want to go virtually homicidal (where, by the way, it's actually legal in my game). I should also ammend that this raiding rant is NOT just for the new raiding folks. These are my pet peeves all the time. I'm just writing about them now because it all comes to the forefront whe dealing with a new situation.:

Not knowing how to play your class-
When you sign up to raid with other people, you are silently claiming that you know the class you play, and you play it well. You know what all of those little buttons do, you know how to assist the main tank, and you know what your role in a raid is. And if you don't know, you ask before the raid starts up, for clarification.

You DON'T target random mobs and shoot an arrow, causing 50 hungry looking monsters to descend upon us without knowledge, as the rest of us try to take down the two monsters that were pulled by the main tank. You DON'T let your group buddies die horrible agonizing deaths time and again because you're a healer and you HAVE to heal the main tank and only the main tank. Unless you are IN the main tank group, THAT'S NOT YOUR JOB! That's the other two healers jobs who are IN that group! On the flip side, for DPS folks, you DON'T target any mob in the fight that you please. this leads to anal bleeding (yours) which causes your death which makes me have to stop and Rez your ass, thus losing my DPS zone. You being an idiot should not have to make me deal with your inadequacy issues.

Don't talk to the new people as if they're idiots right off the bat-

Now I'll grant you that I and my fellow guides are new to this particular scene. But trust me when I say, after months of raiding in this setting, that in almost all cases, we probably know more about raiding and our roles in it than 90% of the raid force. Or for more general circumstances, if you're new to OUR raid force, the same applies. Do yourself a favor and don't send nasty grams our way, asking if we know what this buff or that buff does. Or ask us if we actually cast our procs that make you look good. Cause you're going to get sarcastic answers right back. If you actually ask me if I cast buff A I'm going to purposely look like a hillbilly, adopt bad grammar, and ask you "isn't that a tank thing? I'm just a lowly scout!" and the I'm going to watch you flip out. With popcorn.

Dumbass.

On the same note, don't act passive aggressive in group chat trying to make some of us look like idiots. Because we're not. And we may know some tricks up our sleeves that never occurred to you. And that main tank over there? Yeah, we've raided with him for years when he was a guildie of ours and he will (and did) tell you he would trust us to keep his ass alive better than anyone else on the team. Cause we've proven ourselves before. We might be new to THIS team, but we're not noobs.

Don't tell someone how to play their class when you don't play it either-

I think this one is pretty obvious. I don't tell a healer how to heal. I don't tell an assassin how to backstab. Don't tell me how to be a dirge if you're not raiding as a dirge. And don't tell me how to play my dirge when I'm above you by an average of 60k damage per fight and rezzing at the same time.

If you make a mistake and we wipe, that's ok. But not if it's the fourth time over the same damn mistake. Learn from your mistakes. We only have 3 hours to get through the raid and get phat loots.

Keep chatting for mid pulls-
Don't send me tells when we're in the middle of a boss fight unless it's an emergency. I don't care what song you're listening to. I don't care that you had a funny thought and wanted to share. I don't care that you want to know if I'm going to cast that awesome buff that makes you look like a god. You should know by now that I will cast it when the time is right and not on your say so. I don't care if you're on your fifth beer and you want me to know how freaking drunk you are. Trust me, I already know.

And if it's really important that I need to know how drunk you are, wait until the boss is down or we are.

Don't cast the same proc as I do five seconds after when it lasts for 17. We both hear when the other person casts it. Im paying attention to when you cast yours so that we get maximum usage out of the proc. Grant me the same respect. Otherwise it's totally pointless. And by the way, I can assure you that I am not the only to notice this situation. We've actually created a drinking game for every time it happens. Needless to say, each raid night finishes with us being pretty damn inebriated.

Now I love me some raiding, especially with good friends and competent raid leaders. And I will say that even though I have my peeves, I have been having a grand time. I've made some pretty cool new friends, I have my inside jokes with old friends, and I enjoy taking down a new boss with my team mates. Let's keep it up. Just stop sending me stupid tells when I'm trying to keep your ass alive, mmmkay? ;)

Back to School Recap

It's been three days since school has started. I'm still alive, but J may debate that point in the mornings after I've dragged my ass down the stairs each morning to herd the kids to the bus stop. I sound like a zombie stumbling towards my prey, which is usually the coffee pot.

I forgot to take into account that I would have to get up and be somewhat coherent earlier each day when I chose the bus instead of carpooling. It's only Wednesday and I've had fantasies of switching back. But we all know that the grass is always greener on the other side. Fucking chemlawn.

Monday was awesome. The kids were excited, everyone had their faces washed, teeth brushed, clean clothes,mans were bouncing to go to the bus stop. We waited for 25 minutes, trying to keep Soren out of the damn street, and Xavier from having a cardiac arrest that we missed the bus, before that big yellow vehicle decided to show up and save my sanity. I totally forgot about Xavier's anxiety with missing the bus. Sigh.

Soren and I waved the bus goodbye, and we went home so I could figure out what the hell I was going to do with one kid. Soren screeched that he wanted to go to the library and buy Angry Birds books, so that's what we did. Sans buying angry birds books though. We did walk out with 5 kid books, a debt free library card, and lessons for mom on how to borrow ebooks from the county library. J should be happy about that. At least he can bitch less about me putting the family into the poor house by purchasing a book a day.

Next we headed out to the swim school. I've been meaning to sign Ashe up for swim lessons, but it always seemed like such a hassle to get over there and ask the important questions I needed to while trying to wrangle in two hyper kids. And I was smart. It was so much easier to get that errand done with only Soren to contend with.

We had lunch together with no screams of protest or acting crazy. We cuddled up on the couch and read all the new library books twice, and then a few other books of our own, just for good measure. I exercised for an hour while Soren played Legos nearby. He picked them up and put them away after he was done without me having to ask. We watched a movie together. And then it was time to get the boys.

Xavier and Ashe had a fantastic first day of school. They were happy, and chattering, and cuddling up, and just bubbling with positive energy. I was a happy SRM.


Then Tuesday came. Ashe stayed home. And hell broke loose.

I don't know if it was because Ashe had finally had a taste of school and was bored at home. I don't know if it was because Soren realized how much smoother life went without having to fight for the toy of his choice. But where Monday was an awesome day, Tuesday just sucked. By 4pm I was desperate for alcohol, not even to get drunk, but to soothe my poor vocal chords from yelling at the kids every freaking five minutes to stop beating each other up.

And today is Wednesday. And I have warned the kids pure and simple that I will go postal today if we have another day like yesterday. And if they value their precious little hides,there will not be a repeat. Soren gravely nodded, Xavier nodded then asked if we could hurry to the bus stop 15 minutes early just in case we miss it, and Ashe zoned out, nodding his head, but I know he's really bopping to music in his mind, keeping time. Sigh.

I keep telling myself that come next Monday everything will be better. Ashe will start kindergarten full time, and everyone will be happy. Until then, wish my sanity luck!

Die

Soren has finally exploded in his vocabulary, for which we parents are truly grateful. for the most part. There are definitely some times where we really wish he wasn't picking up words and phrases so fast, as well as wishing he was not the youngest of three boys. Because we have learned that his brothers are both the best and worst teachers for him.

I could sit there for hours, repeating a word to Soren and he wouldn't give me the time of day. But anything out of the mouths of Ashe or Xavier, and Soren is doing his damndest to mimic each syllable.

So when both Ashe and Xavier started making fun of Dora, Soren's favorite show, I tried to keep on their butt about it. I knew Soren wold start picking up some of the phrases the boys would use to bond in their brotherly way. And I was right. Because despite my high end efforts of stopping it from happening, Soren came up to me recently and told me that Dora and Boots die. And then he giggled and ran away.

I had hoped that maybe he was just parroting back the phrase I heard Xavier and Ashe snicker to each other quietly, hoping I wouldn't hear. (When will these boys learn I hear everything?) But again, my hopes were dashed when not long after, Soren was playing wit his toy Mario on the table and it fell off the ledge. Soren looked up at me and said "UH OH, MARIO DIE!!!". Great. Just fucking great.

So now I have to sit the little tyke down, and try to explain the difference between a toy falling and death. Thanks boys. Thanks a million. By the way, you're both grounded the next time I hear the word die out of your mouths.

Strawberry Season

Strawberries are one of the most coveted food sources of my family. If we buy two pints of strawberries at the local food store, they're usually gone before all of the groceries have been brought into the house. And then the boys clamor for more the rest of the week. But nothing, I mean nothing, beats the taste of sun ripened, just picked off the vine by your very own hands, fresh as you can get, strawberries. Everything else pales in comparison. It makes the strawberries in food stores taste like cardboard.

Fortunately for us, we have a kick ass local farm stand literally a minute from Xavier's school and starting mid-April they open up their pick your own strawberry patches. I am writing this in April (sorry for the late publishing but I didn't want to spam blogs) and we just got back from our first strawberry picking expedition of the season.

our ginormous bucket of fantastic strawberries. No, you can't have any! MINE!!

After school today I whipped over to the berry patch with three excited kids, all of us ready to gorge on strawberries until our stomachs were crying out in pleasured agony. I grabbed one of the giant buckets they offer, refusing to allow each boy their own. While technically we "could" have easily eaten $40 worth of strawberries, I didn't feel like paying that much and dealing with juicy red poop for the next week. One bucket it was, to the disappointment of my spawnlings.

We headed over to one of the rows and I loosed the boys with a whoop and they took off. Until a butterfly gently floated by Xavier, and he freaked out, remembering that he hates bugs of any kind. Instantly he ran back to me and started up a commentary about each passing insect as I slowly made my way down the row, searching for ripe berries.

"OOOOOOH, go away spider!!!"
"That's not a spider, that's an ant."
"Seriously???? It's gotta be the biggest ant ever!"
"Ummm, it's normal size. Move over, you're blocking the berries."
Ashe (yelling three rows over): "MOM! I GOT ONE!" I smile and wave. Soren's two rows away, popping berry after berry in his mouth. He notices me looking at him and grins, red juice and mashed berries dripping down his chin.

"Holy cow! That butterfly almost ran into me! Can butterfly's be dangerous????"
"Ahhh, no."
"Promise?"
"Xavier, do butterflies look like they can hurt you?"
"I don't know."

Ashe (yelling four rows over): "MOM! I GOT ANOTHER!!!"" I smile and wave. Soren's still popping berries in his mouth. I'm glad I put him in a dark shirt today.

"HOLY CRAP LOOK AT THAT WOLF SPIDER!!!!!"
"Xavier, that's not a wolf spider."
"How do you know???? It could be!!!"
"You know what? Since you're not picking any berries, and obviously you're not having fun out here, why don't you wait for us by the car? We won't be much longer."
"I'm having fun!!!"
"......Really, dude?"
"Really. I just don't want to pick strawberries anymore."
"You haven't picked any."
"I'm ok with that."

After filling the ginormous bucket in 15 minutes, the boys and I head back to the stand to pay. As we step in line Xavier starts telling me how he wants to be a farmer when he grows up, and he's going to not only have a strawberry farm, but he'll also raise dragonflies and bees, and possibly even some butterflies. I just stare at him in bewilderment, wondering if he's on drugs. This, coming from the kid who merely minutes ago, was ready to jump into my arms when a dragonfly raced by a full row away. Instead of asking him where his stash is and could I have some, I instead smile hesitantly, and tell him I'll be the first in line to pick strawberries at his farm.




Oh yeah, the strawberries are already almost gone. And we've only been home for an hour.

A Little Quiet 'Round These Parts

Hey folks, I just wanted to post that the next few weeks may not have as many blogs. I'm hoping to get some scheduled out so there isn't a bare patch, but as you read this, I am most likely on a plane to a wedding at a funeral home. I promise, I'll blog about it as soon as  I get a chance. But also tomorrow is my birthday, and in a couple of weeks I'll be traveling again to another wedding, to come home and travel again to Massachusetts for a week.

So! While I will be gathering tons of blog fodder for my beloved readers, if there isn't three blogs a week I apologize in advance. I'll still post funny updates on my facebook page (which if you haven't joined yet, you are missing a lot), and whine there when the kids are not letting me sleep. But I will be back soon, with lots of new stories, including the wedding at the funeral home. I actually told J we had to go to this particular wedding for the blog fodder alone it would give me.

So happy week to you all, and think of me as I try to not giggle at inopprtune moments today at the wedding.

See you soon! 

BIP!

3AM
CRASH!
"WHOAWHOWHATTHEHELLIS...XAVIER WHAT IS GOING ON???!!!"

J and I leapt out of bed from deep slumber to freaking out in 0.02 seconds as Xavier crashed open our bedroom door in the middle of the night. Xavier stood there, eyes wide as dinner plates.
"Dad.... there's a bip."
"A what?"
"A bip. Something keeps beeping like a bip."
"Duuuude, it's (squinting over at the clock) 3AM!!!"
"There's a bip, Dad! I swear!!"


BIP

We all cease movement immediately, heads all tilted to the side, listening.

BIP

One of our smoke detectors has gone rogue in the middle of the night.

Our second floor ceiling are ginormously tall. Like 15 feet high. And of course, we don't own a ladder. Don't ask me why. I keep meaning to stop at Home Depot to pick one up, but I always forget. And now we have a smoke detector that is bipping and we all know that none of us will sleep until we A> find out which one is the culprit and B> rip it out of it's socket until the next morning.

Since J is the tallest of the family, and will have to do the most acrobatics to fix this problem, he votes to leave it to the next morning. Xavier and I outvote him loudly, knowing that going down that road will only cause complete crankiness the next day due to severe lack of sleep as we all focus on the BIP sound.

So J and I throw on some clothes and start investigating which detector needs to be put down.

BIP

We pause in the hallway upstairs and try to pinpoint it's location.

BIP

Downstairs? Let's check it out. We stumble down the stairs, peering at each detector as we go past, looking for a flashing red light or anything that may make it stand out from the others.

BIP

Upstairs. Crap, I hope it's not in the younger boys bedroom. We scuttle up the stairs, eyes roving in every direction.

BIP

Ok not the hallway. Our room? No, it wasn't that loud.

BIP

Xaviers room. Ahh yes, there's the piece of shit that's disturbing our sleep. And oh look, it's on the highest point of our 15 FOOT HIGH CEILING!!! How could it not be?

BIP

We cringe, because now that we're below it, the sound is REALLY loud. Yes, Xavier and I were right in forcing this task to be done now. Because there is no way Xavier could have slept through this annoying blast of sound every 45 seconds.

BIP

J and I start looking around, trying to figure out how to get up that high? The bed? Sure try the bed. J jumps on the twin mattress and reaches, about 4 feet too far away.

BIP

We glance at the office chair. No, too risky. First it's only about a foot higher than the bed. Plus it's known to swivel fast and furious.

BIP

How about these crates? The ones that act as a dresser and stuffed animal pen. Think we could put them on top of each other? I promise to hold J steady, both of us knowing it's more for show because if J goes down there is nothing I could really do.

BIP

No choice. We have to try. J dumps everything out of the crates to Xavier's alarm (I mean really, his parents ARE destroying his room) and starts to carefully climb up the contraption of two crates stacked on top of each other, while I hold his leg steady, enjoying the view.

BIP

Slowly, he stands straight, and then reaches his arm out to the offending detector. And you have got to be fucking kidding me. He's an inch too short. "What the f..."

BIP

The sound covers my verbal slip. Thankfully Xavier didn't hear me. I focus my attention back to J, who is trying to carefully hop up a little to grab the bottom of the gadget. I cringe each time, waiting for him to fall and kill himself (and me).

BIP

I hear a scrape of skin and a muttered curse as J thrashes his hand in the air. I see blood. This can't be good.

BIP

Growling, J stares at the detector, focusing all his anger and frustration on the round piece of plastic. I know that growl. I know that look. I know that very shortly I will not only have to buy a ladder, but a new smoke detector.

BI.....

J lunged and snatched at the ceiling.A ripping sound silences the bips, and J comes crashing down with the smoke detector in his hands. He smiles in victory while Xavier and I cheer, helping him down and hugging him. Xavier goes back to bed, I mend the battle wounds with a band aid and a kiss, and we all snuggle back into bed, where all is again silent and right in the world.

Coughing & the Bubonic Plague

If you're a resident of North Carolina, or really anywhere down south, you most likely know what I mean when I say that early spring means yellow snow. For those of you who don't, let me take a moment to explain.
 You know how up north you guys get snow? That white fluffy crap that's freaking cold, covers everything, and makes your boots wet and uncomfortable? We don't get much of that down here. But come March and April, we get pine trees having public sex for weeks on end, getting jiggy with it all over every freaking surface and orifice. And their "love dust" i.e. pollen gets into every nook and cranny, making everything look yellow. Below is the city of Raleigh, right next door to where I live. Notice the yellow haze? Yeah, that's POLLEN!!!!!



Photo courtesy of www.raleighskyline.com



Well, come yellow snow season, for the first time ever, my kids start feeling the effects. Soren's nose is stuffed up every night. Ashe's throat feels funny. And Xavier? Xavier is hacking nonstop like he has a 45 pound hairball caught in his throat. And it's driving me up the effing walls. Fortunately we had his check up and the doctor took a look at him to find out what the culprit was.

Dr: Ahh yes, allergies.
Me: Allergies?
Xavier: Allergies??????
Dr: Yup. Allergies. I'm guessing it's the pollen.
Me: He's never had allergies before.
Xavier: Will I have allergies forever??????
Dr: Allergies can crop up any time, but at his age it's fairly common.
Me: Crap
Xavier: NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

And on the car ride home, I had to calm my freaking out child to let him know that allergies are totally normal and most people have one allergy or another, and isn't it better to be allergic to pollen which will go away in a few weeks, than to be allergic to peanut butter? He wasn't impressed. In fact, he went on a streak of questions about other allergies, which led to diseases, which lead to talks about the Bubonic Plague. Seriously folks. I don't even know how he knows about the Bubonic Plague. Fortunately I was able to tell him that we have treatments for it now, and the only way to get it is to play with wild prairie dogs so as long as he doesn't do that hes cool. And if he does one day find himself jumping around with wild prairie dogs, the local hospitals where prairie dogs are found will have a cure for the plague. So he's covered.

We tried Benadryl in the hopes that his hacking cough would subside. No luck. We tried Clariton. Nothing. We tried tea and honey, then honey on a spoon, then chugging honey from the bottle. Still hacking. Finally one night after listening to him trying to hack that hairball up nonstop for about 45 minutes I yelled at him to get a popsicle. And the next thing I know, it's silent. Pure, golden silence. Not the bad silent where you wonder what your kids are destroying. But the good kind.


Of course I find this awesome solution a week before yellow snow season ends.

Till Death Do Us Part

The other day we were driving through rural North Carolina. The one thing that stands out to me around here versus back north is that in the rural areas there are a lot of private family cemeteries. You can find them everywhere: in the middle of fields, in the side of the forest, in someones front yard.

As we drove along, passing multiple graveyards, J turns to me and starts us down the path of an odd conversation.

J: Have you ever thought about where we should be buried when we die? Do you have a preference?
Me: Well, we live here now. I don't really have any ties back in Massachusetts, so somewhere here.
J: Yeah, I feel the same way.
Me: I just don't want to be buried on one of those cemeteries where you have to have a flat stone. When I go out, I want my rock big and badass!
J: You still want the dragon headstone?
Me: Hell yeah! I want my giant dragon sleeping over my decaying corpse. And I want my epitaph to read "Still waiting for a rez". (Gamer joke)
J: That's going to cost a lot of cash, you know.
Me: Good thing you took out a big life insurance policy on me then, huh?
J: What about if your dragon is styrofoam. It would cost less. (I glare daggers at him) No?
Me: No. I want my rock to last. Tell you what. I've been thinking of going green. How about you forgo formaldahyde and all that jazz, wrap me up in a shroud and toss me in the ground under my big rock? You can use one of our spare bed sheets as a shroud. I'm fine with that.

We're silent for a bit, contemplating mortality and what it means. I realize then that J has never given me clear instructions on what he wants. I've always wanted my dragon headstone and made it crystal clear I would haunt J's ass if he didn't grant my last wish of a badass dragon headstone.

Me: So how about you. What do you want when you die? Cremation? Burial at sea? Want a badass dragon stone with me?
J: How about a burial at sea in a giant shoe?
Me: I could do that. How's your life insurance policy? Could it handle the expense?

Flaming shoe burial from movie "Passion of Darkly Noon"

J: I think it should cover it.
Me: I wonder if I'd need a special license to bury you a la flaming shoe?
J: Dunno. You think they have flaming shoe burial licenses?
Me: I highly doubt enough people want to go out via a flaming shoe to have a specific license for that.

We drive along for awhile. At one point, we pass by a taxidermist.

Me: That's it!
J: What?
Me: How about I get you taxidermied?
J:......
Me: yeah! And then I can have you wear that awesome viking hat you wore at the Museum of Natural history in New York!
J: I like my shoe idea better.
Me: Fine: I'll bury you in a flaming shoe. You just make sure you don't skimp out on my badass dragon headstone.
J: Deal.

Baby & the IPad

Soren has a baby. It's a mini stuffed Yoshi that he's been carrying around for months and coddling like an infant. Baby goes almost everywhere nowadays. Soren hit that phase where he wants to be a Daddy and care for a baby. So Yoshi gets changed, bottle fed, diapers, and carried around in Sorens shirt (or pants if we're not paying attention) like a baby carrier.

But Baby also seems to take the fall for Sorens, ahhh, misadventures. It seems anything that goes wrong is Baby's fault.

Me: Who spilt the milk?
Soren: Baby

Me: Who didn't flush the toilet?
Soren: Baby

Me: Whose underwear is lying in the middle of the living room???
Soren: Baby's.

One morning, Ashe and Soren (along with baby) went upstairs to play. I took advantage of the quiet and started catching up on blogging. Five minutes later, Soren came down with a sad look on his face.
Me: Hey buddy, what's up?
Soren (sigh) Ashe, Ipad, baby, no.
Me: Ashe won't let baby play the Ipad?
Soren: Yeah
Me: Well dude, Baby doesn't have fingers so it might be pretty hard to play the Ipad. Do you think maybe *you* want to play the Ipad?
Soren: No, baby.
Me: Ahh. well, baby is too little to play with it and he has no fingers. Sorry bud.

Soren wanders off grumbling about the lack of rights to baby stuffed animals and how oppressive it is in this regime.

My Children's Future: LARP Videos

For those of you who don't know what LARP is, it stands for Live Action Role Play. Think of the people who get all geared up in leather and chain mail, hauberks, and head to Medieval festivals. Now multiply that geek factor by 10, and add in weekly meetings where people pretend they really live in a fantasy world, and throw lightning bolts at each other in the middle of the woods.

Companies make A LOT of money selling stuff for this. And a lot of people do it.

LARP potion bag for only $23 at
http://www.medievalcollectibles.com/

After coming across a video on youtube that shows LARP Zelda, I can TOTALLY see my kids doing shit like this in about ten years:






I'm hoping when this blog goes live, the first image you see before hitting play is the guy dressed up in a fairy costume. I laughed so hard when I saw that in the video. It's less than four minutes long, so you should check it out for giggles.

My boys are already LARPing. In fact all kids LARP when they use their imagination and pretend to be a hero or princess or firefighter, etc. My kids LARP pretty much like you see in this video. And I just know, when they hit the teenage years, this is what I'm going to be dealing with.

But I'm ok with that. I'd rather them LARP than do drugs. Even if it does mean I may have to pay for damages to my neighbors garden ;)

Patchy Ashe

Two months ago, we returned to Ashe's eye doctor, to see how his eye sight was progressing with glasses. Originally, he had 20/150 eyesight. His glasses are at 20/80. Testing two months later, Ashe is seeing at 20/50 which is awesome. The doctor thins we caught this issue early and decided to get a little more aggressive to see if we could get his eyesight even better. So along with glasses, Ashe has now been wearing an eye patch over his good eye. he has to wear it for two hours a day, and he has to do something close up, like video games or color. It was an easy sell for the boy. How many kids are told they HAVE to play their DS for two hours a day, doctors orders????

The only catch is that the eye patches look funky. I goggled all over looking for cool looking eye patches to no avail. I was hoping for something piratey. I mean, if you're going to wear an eye patch at least have fun with it, right? But no, the only ones around look like giant bandaids. Ashe is ok with them, but I have been warring with myself for months about coloring them all in with a black sharpie, making the Jolly Roger on each patch.

We could make some serious money, people! We should start making pirate patch eye patches! This is a gold mine we're sitting on!