Elisa's Journal

Now that my kids are older, the youthful excitement over Halloween has waned. And because they're older, I'm busier than ever. Whoever says toddlers are the most high maintenance, labor intensive age has obviously never had teenagers. So just taking the time to get the decorations up (and yep, they aren't yet,) buying the three tons of candy that I can't keep my hands off of, finding the old costumes in the attic and vacuuming the three inch layer of dust off of them, dealing with pleas to buy new costumes every year (like, right. I'm tempted to send them off wrapped in broiler foil. Tehy can tell everyone they're doggie bags.)It's just all so bothersome for one agonizing hour of traipsing through the neighborhood and listening to complaints like "I'm tired." "I'm getting blisters." "This is the last house." "Please, just one more house." "Hey, she got more candy than me." "I've got blisters on top of my blisters." (and those are just my gripes. There are the complaints from my kids on top of that.) Then they come home all sweaty and fill their bags with whatever candy we have left over in our house, eat their fill, and store the bags away in secret hiding places their sibs can't get to where future archeologists will find them, untouched and fossilized, presumably as treasures to take to the afterlife. Throughout the might, vanloads of kids (who've learned many crates of candy I buy each year) invade our street in herds of 20 to 30 at a time. Some are post pubertal men without costumes who, in a deep voice, utter a sheepish, "Trick o' Treat" and dip their paws into the candy bowl to remove at least a pound each. Kinda scary. Others are repeats. I mean they get their candy and then go to the end of the line formed at my door and come back for seconds. And thirds. I can't wait til it's over!

Posted by elisa at 09:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I got a tough decision ahead of me. Part of me wants to concentrate on homeschooling duties which are considerable, and the other part (the evil twin, no doubt) wishes to write book #4. My publisher and literary agent are really excited about the possibility of doing a book about how to deal with opposing parental practices that create divisiveness between parents, opportunities to manipulate and triangulate for kids, understanding why parents have differing childrearing philosophies and practices, why they can create so much conflict, how some variation in parenting can be positive, and how to come to some middle ground so that both parents can be a united front advocating for the child's future (and for a stable marriage!) Arguments about childrearing practices are up there with financial issues when it comes to divorce material. Spousal relationships, parent-child relationships, sibling relationships and the welfare of children and couples can all be severely impacted.

But are there enough hours in the day? Can I spend the time I need to spend loveing my babies? Should I give it a rest for a year or two rather than try hard to "save the world" whether the world is receptive or not? Hmmm. That's my thought for the day. You guys ponder it and give me your two cents!

Posted by elisa at 09:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The squirrels are weaned and grown up now and LOVE being free. We installed the squirrel house up high in a Water oak, and they've taken to it like ducks to water. It's been a long couple of months, but how satisying it is to have them alive instead of garbage dump decorations.

Posted by elisa at 09:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'm proud to say that Hearing is Believing: How Words Can Make or Break Our Kids has won the Gold Award from NAPPA (National Parenting Publications Awards). YAY!! I am so honored!

Posted by elisa at 09:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Yep, I have the sickness. I'm a diehard Astro fan confident that they'll make it all the way. Hey, this is Houston, people. We have to win something for god's sake! Anyway, keep your fingers crossed today!

Posted by elisa at 09:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This morning, I was a little puzzled about Zoe not makiing a beeline for her kibble like she usually does. I mean, food is the center of the universe for that dog! I walked around the back of the house and found her staring intently on something in the middle of our pool. At first I thought it was one of Lukas's flipflops, but on closer inspection, I noticed it had fur. Lukas tends to cling onto each pair of flipflops for years, but not long enough to sprout fur. Nope, this was a Zoe appetizer--a young possum cub clinging for dear life to the hose of the pool cleaner. It looked dead, probably felt dead too. Usually I don't do roaches, rats, mice or other disgusting animals, but Rune, the family pest removal appointee, was taking a shower and I didn't want the poor little guy to die from hypothermia. So I put the dogs in the house and scooped the critter from the pool. It was no easy task, because its tail and claws were in a death grip. But as soon as I gently set him down on the grass, he waddled away with a distinctive drunken wobble in his gait. After he was far up a tree, I let Zoe out. She looked all around the pool and followed the scent path to the tree. So disappointed! First, she was denied her squirrel babies, and now she's denied her possum baby. She must think it's raining puppies out there!

Posted by elisa at 10:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Posted by elisa at 11:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Posted by elisa at 11:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

My little squirrel babies that I found abandoned a few weeks ago are nearly weaned. I built a big cedar squirrel house for them (and I've got the bruises and drill burns to prove it.) For the last week, they've been getting use to it. Everyday, I throw in acorns and other foods that are available in the area and I put in potential nesting material like oak leaves so they can learn to make their own nests/beds. Pretty soon, I'll place the house way up high in a big Water Oak and uncover the entrance and exit holes so they can come and go asw they please. It's been tough not handling them, but I want them to be wary of us mean humans. All I can hope for is that they come by with my grandchildren every Thanksgiving for some leftover pecan pie. Oh, sadness. I'll upload some pics!

Posted by elisa at 11:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Am I alone in this dilemma?--this dread involving kid movies? I hate sitting through these G or PG movies for a whole 90 minutes. It's torture! I'd rather have rusty eye bolts hammered through my tongue, be suspended by a bungy cord from a Peterbilt front chrome bumper and keel hauled on from one end of I-10 to the next than sit in a dark movie theatre watching some lame anime or Pokemon crap while my flip flops become the la Brea Tar Pit victims of our time as they become engulfed in popcorn grease, kid vomit and drool--all while listening to scatological humor at its worst. Just the thought of it makes the corner of my mouth twitch. It really does. Although my kids have thankfully graduated from the Barney and Blues Clues set, they're not ready for the Forgotten or The Exorcist, so suffer, I must.

The Shark's Tale was a different story, though. First of all, I think Will Smith is cute. I worry about my sanity when I'm thinking a cartoon character is hot, though. And the characters were all funny--De Niro, the Rastafarian jellyfish, the mafiosos octopus. Loved it. Instead of spending the time playing solitaire on my PDA or balancing my checkbook (and I use the term "balancing" in the loosest of terms,) I actually laughed at the clever jokes, gasped at the close calls, and sighed my "Oh no's" at the sad parts. I'm thinking, "Damn, When's it out on DVD, man?" Don't know why they made Cristina Aguilera a jellyfish though. Shouldn't she be something like a Barricuda or Piranha? Go see it, guys!

Posted by elisa at 03:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Ever had those dreams where you're really awake, but barely? This morning around 5 AM I had a dream that my 15 year old, Erik was mildly paralyzed so that we had to grab him from behind and support him as he walked from place to place.It was so sad. He had to stay in a wheelchair while everyone else was having fun. I cried in my "sleep" thinking about how he had his whole life ahead of him, how he'd have trouble finding a wife, etc. I told Erik this morning to be careful skateboarding and swimming, etc. Plus I recounted the horrible dream. Oddly enough, he had a terrible dream too. (Both of us rarely have disturbing dreams.) He dreamt that he got cut badly so that there was a 4 iinch swatch of skin missing around his entire torso and he was bleeding from his mouth and nose. A few minutes later, he and Sean went out to skateboard in front of the house. After 30 minutes or so, they came in and asked "What do you want? It's too early to start homeschool." I asked them what the heck they were talking about, because I didn't tell them to come in. They insisted that I called out to them "Come on boys. Get into the house right away." But I had just been perusing my email, watching them from my study window. I told them it WASN'T me. Then Erik and I realized whose voice it was-my younger sister Denise, who recently died. Her voice is so similar. She must have been sending messages to me in the early morning hours as a warning. But, thick-headed as I am, I ignored her. So it's like "If ya want something done right, ya gotta do it yourself." She had to tell Erik to stop skateboarding and come in. I truly believe she prevented some horrible accident this morning. Michelle, my 18 year old, quietly thanked Denise as she went upstairs to her bedroom and within seconds saw a bluish apparition at the top of the stairs. Isn't that weird or what? I mean, kinda makes goose bumps!

Posted by elisa at 01:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

My husband was doing what he usually does ad nauseum--fussing with the kids in a way that breaks like 14 rules from each chapter of my books. He tries. He really does. But it's the old school European in him that sticks a giant smelly foot into a cavernous, echoing mouth. In response, Annika defiantly fusses back with: 'Ya know, you should read Mama's books like "Raising Children Who Think for Themselves," Pappa! (This vengeful ploy is second only to my kids telling me I need to read my books again.) Lukas, naturally wanting to launch his own attach to get the better of his little sister in retaliation of the hundreds of eye rolling, tongue sticking out, "whatevers," and tattling, told her "Mom wrote about kids thinking for themselves. That doesn't mean thinking bratilogically about themselves, Dummy." How 'bout that new vocabulary word, eh? Now that's thinking for himself!!

Posted by elisa at 08:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)