Mothra

You know, I was going to step away from the insect issues here for a bit but it's almost impossible given my daily encounters with the weird and wacky. The biggest reason for me never moving to South America would be the high and large bug population. Ditto for Africa being off the move to list. I thought I was getting a sweet deal here when Chris brought home a book of "Bugs of NZ" before we moved. It was rather a thin book and so my thoughts were that perhaps there really wasn't much to note around here. In fact the thrifty author (no doubt a Kiwi himself as they do tend toward the thrifty side) decided that I didn't need to see all species of Weta bugs (for example -just one picture and a note to tell me there were 400 more kinds. So far I have managed to catalogue 3 different types here in my house. The routine is becoming the same with the discovery -usually by myself or the girl, followed by screams or moans and Ronin running to the get the camera for a photo op. In the week to come I will be posting new pics and descriptions of the the insects that we have found thus far. Generally speaking though, these bugs are large. Even the common bumble bee is too big for it's wings and kind of floats around like a bubble from flower to flower. I have an old hamster leash that I am thinking Shay could put to use if she ever wanted to adopt one. If ever there was a insect that bordered on "cute" the bumble bee would be it. The rest just give me the shivers. Although we do have a Stick bug that likes to hang around out front entrance and the kids have dubbed him "Sticky"and he did border on cuteness for the girl with his ever so thoughtful slow methodical movements until one day she touched him with a leaf and he darted at her....screams and pee pee dance followed. I can say I've been much braver (it's the adult face that I put on to deal when the girl is hysterical) but I have to say I lost it completely the other night.

It was later in the evening for us and the kids were busy with their nighttime regime of brushing their teeth and getting dressed for bed. It has been very hot the last few nights and I left the window in the laundry room open to cool off the house. In most houses in NZ there is a serious lack of screens. I really don't get this. Anyways, I was in the dryer with my ass sticking out pulling out the daily clothes when i heard what I thought to be a small plane above my head. I straightened up and looked about me and for a second everything looked the same. Calm and peaceful with the kids chattering down the hall in the bathroom. Then all hell broke loose. Out of the corner of my eye I see what I think to be a small green and pink bird fluttering by the wall, about the size of a sparrow you see... then it changed direction on a course straight at my face and I saw, what I believe to be, the worlds largest moth. The body was thicker than my thumb and so heavy that it was flying not horizontally at my face but vertically with it's wings beating the air about my hair. What to do? In time of crisis do you really know what you are capable of? Well, big bellyful of screams I can tell you that with me running backwards with my eye on the approaching beast. I checked my shoulder in the door frame and careened backwards, screaming all the while down the hallway with MOTHRA in drunken but steady pursuit. Kids are quiet now and I dart into the safest room of the house - Shays bedroom where she is in mid change, one foot in her jammies as I slam her door with my back against it and continue to scream. She takes one look at my face and answers my scream with one of her own. The two of us stared at each other just screaming. I hear Chris barreling up the stairs into the hallway banging on the door trying to get in. I still have my back firmly pressed against the door you see and refuse to let him in lest he brings Mothra in with him. "It's a bug! A MOTH!" I shout safely from the other side...get it!! Of course it's not like the thing is waiting around him, and the boy and the man can't see it so I crack the door open a bit and stick my head out. All's clear and I slowly emerge with the girl and her death grip on my shirt. The four of us move as one into the hallway and all eyes are peering about -scanning for the intruder. Of course, Chris can't believe that I am that panic stricken by a moth of all things (God's sake Jenn!) but I keep stuttering about the size of it. It was a site to behold this Mothra thing... resting it's fat ass on my dresser in my bedroom and the men really did begin to appreciate the magnitude of my panic. We all paused to regroup as we stared safely from the threshold of the room. Hmm, what to do? Like all bugs here I am firmly on the catch and release program but this one isn't likely to fit under and glass that we own. The boy, familiar in routine has gone to get the camera and Chris has come back from the kitchen with my extra large 8 cup measuring glass and cork pad. Obviously a slip of paper under the glass isn't going to hold this guys weight. The girl and I watched from a safe distance until the capture and then we approached the glass and peered in. The moth, was busy laying thousands of eggs on my dresser and looking none too healthy truth be told. WE are all fascinated and grossed out by the event playing out before our eyes. I have never seen, in so much (large) detail the anatomy of a moth. After the release out the window of which it arrived ( and a firm shutting of said window) Chris vacuumed the eggs up... which really meant that he vacuumed and then *I* vacuumed - and dusted.

There didn't seem to be anything in our insect manual to describe this one and so off to the Internet I went. As far out and gross and scary as it was I found out that we were extremely lucky to have seen the Puriri Moth.

The Puriri Moth is the largest moth in NZ. It lives in the tree trunks and starts out as a little larva eating it's way into the soft trees where it makes it's home for about 5-7 years. It lives and grows into the pupa stage all this time. When it becomes an actual moth it emerges from the trees and lives for about 2 days at which point it scatters it's eggs on the jungle floor and dies. The wing span is recorded to be about 15-20 cm with their bodies being about 12 cm....I can confirm this point. They generally only come about around December as well in their moth type form so this one was a little late. Chris thinks that we are lucky that we even got to witness this.... and yes, even though the EW! factor was extremely high for me I have to agree. Perhaps we should start buying lottery tickets...

Itsy Bitsy Spider

I know I am the envy of you all. The summer is approaching here while you are all dusting off the snow blowers. I doubt any of you can feel my pain when I say the warmish weather is bringing about a new set of issues.

I love to garden, really I do. I am not afraid to get down and dirty with the er, dirt nor do

I care if I get a little dirt under my nails. It's all part of the process of being "one" with Mother Earth. I've looked forward to many a spring in Alberta with seeds and nursery plants pushed against a window at home waiting for the 8 days of summer like the rest of you. So I was quite keen on starting to get to know the local floral and fauna here and purchased a rather large encyclopedia from which to get a better understanding of what grows here. Maybe I could have saved a bit of cash and tried to find a smaller tome of what doesn't grow here -at an alarming rate. I swear the vines that grow on the lower level of the backyard and up the balcony rail manages 6" a day. At first I thought it was cosy and had a country like feel to it but I am seriously concerned that this plant may have a plan to take over the house. I have given up "pinching" back the stems and now greet it in the morning with a hack saw. I beg Ronin not to walk too close to it lest it grabs him and takes him into it's embrace. Much similar story can be said for the 13' high hedges that are so dense that you probably could walk on them. I'm not complaining just voicing a concern that one day I may not be able to find the house.

I don't think I have mentioned this but I live in a glass house. Truly almost all the walls are glass. Great big sliding patio doors surround me. It's fantastic but also a lot of work keeping them clean. I have been doing my best and maybe too good a job as the birds don't seem to understand that they can't fly *thru* the house. I have had many a feather to pluck off of the windows but no carcass to bury. My only guess is that the ants have been kind and carted Tweetie off. Ant's among other insects are a problem. I had been using the laundry sink as a kinda catch all for the dirty clothes and damp towels until one day while I was reaching into the sink to load the wash, I felt a tickle going up my arm. It was a lonely little ant. "Hello little fella, where did you come from?" I wondered. Not for long, as i reached to the bottom of the clothes and upended an entire farm busy making plans in the bottom of the sink. Screams and the pee pee dance came next with me turning on the water to full blast and washing them down the drain. I found the plug and hastily put that in and have never removed it since.

Now, for years, I have been a stickler about the kids taking food/drinks into their bedrooms. The black holes of the house if you will. I made that rule the day i found a half glass of yogurt which I suppose started off as milk in the boy's closet. Always dire warnings of consequences to the two should I ever find stuff again in their rooms. I *know* they still sneak candy in there and to a point I have been lax on the rules but after last nights clean up in the living room the rule came back into play. Sitting at the bottom of a near empty juice cup was a drowned cockroach. I paraded it around to the masses and made them take a good hard look at what would end up in their rooms should they be foolish enough to have any form of food. It made quite the impression especially to the girl who is deathly afraid of spiders.

At first, I thought the previous owners were a bit lax on the cleaning of the house inside and out as there were many cobwebs to be found in the rooms. It was almost like we were getting ready for a Halloween Party in the main room up in the rafters blowing webs of gossamer floated around. I spent a goodish part of my morning going up there and every other room, into the corners and along the beams. Feeling instantly cleaner after every room was sucked clean. That lasted a scant 8 hours. I don't know how it happened but the next morning I was laying in bed staring at the ceiling and was watching a spider waving at me from it's new web. I must have missed one, I mutter but on closer inspection i see that he is not alone and once again the ceilings and rafters are decorated for Halloween. I am learning to live with this and even almost caught myself petting one the other night as it lay on my duvet beside me while I read. I understand now that it's a matter of balance. If I take away the spiders then the giant flying things are more plentiful in the house. I have taken out plates from the cupboard only to discover something of a flying nature spread out like a museum specimen on it. The boy looked at it and asked if that's what I was serving for breakfast. Yes, it could have made a meal. I turned my back for a sec and it disappeared to somewhere less conspicuous in the house i guess... my tolerance has grown by leaps and bounds. I'm sure the spiders will take care of it eventually. It's not uncommon for me to be working outside in the bush trying to tame it only to be given a scalp massage by one of my eight legged friends or catching a ride to the next clump of trees on my shoulders. Probably just another reason for the birds to attack me at this point. I'll save that story for another time though.

Extreme Makeover -Home Edition

Now, i want to be clear here that i am not welding some whip here over the Mister's head (in as far as home renos are concerned). We are both keen to see this house right and up to date from the early 80's in which it currently resides although i am starting to see that in fashion anyways, the 80's are making a comeback. Part of me wonders maybe if i hold out long enough my house will once again be en Vogue. It doesn't matter much now as i did it to myself, this starting of my personal renovations, by sitting on the toilet of my loo and staring at the wallpaper above the dispenser. I had wondered how hard it would be to remove the offending paper and hmm, what was under this avocado green shite and so i ran my nail along the seam. The tiniest of edges gave way, enough to slip my finger under and then i did it. I pulled the paper. I was still under the illusion that a beautiful smooth wall of plaster was laying underneath but well, i couldn't be more wrong. The more i pulled the bigger the piece grew till a napkin sized sheet of wall paper dropped to the ground. Er, well... what have i done? Not like a towel is likely to cover that. Under the picture part of the paper lay the backing and gobs of glue. I knew this about wallpaper, coming off in two parts -first the picture then the backing. it's not Rocket Science by any stretch but there i am looking at a huge gap in the once perfectly smooth paper and knowing that i was "in for a penny in for a pound", so to speak. It's ok really. i don't care for wallpaper and in my mind i have painted it a lovely mossy green to go with my towels and such. Right.

Under the layer of wallpaper is another layer of paper and glue and even further under that is a wood wall in parts of the bathroom and drywall in others. Don't ask, i don't pretend to know the methods of madness of the construction of Kiwi homes. What i *do* know is that i am ever so thankful that i watched infomercials the first month here with the boy while others were away at school and work. You see, afternoon television viewing is pretty much non existent. Perhaps it is thought that most people are out shearing their sheep at this time or other outdoor activities and so from the hours of 11-4 you will be treated on all 5 channels to a carousel of infomercials urging you to get fit, eat better and steam your clothes. Same ones appear daily and for the first while Ronin and i had the TV on for background noise but then one day i came into the living room and found Ro avidly watching some grinning fool steam their clothes on TV. The boy says to me without looking up from the TV, "I bet Dad would steam his own clothes if you got one of those, it looks like fun." Huh. So i join him on the couch and see all the marvelous things the Steamie 2000 can do to enhance my life. I think the lure of sanitizing mold on grout had me reaching for the phone and my Visa, it could have been the removal of pet odor in the carpets too that had me hooked - can't remember but yes, in three working days Steamie 2000 arrived home. As a one time early bird offer i also recieved a dashing carrying case and extra attachements, Fantastic! The Man just shook his head.. apparently it never occured to him that i wouldn't revel in the process of ironing his clothes -go figure. Ronin and i steamed everything and examined the before and after of our efforts in the bathroom and carpets but to be honest, i don't know if things smelled any fresher and i hadn't packed my microscope to gage the bacteria quantity in the carpet and so i can only say that the clothes did look a bit better for use of Steamie. The one thing that the infomercial didn't show me was that it was a handy device to remove glue and backing from walls that had been papered and it was quite by accident that Chris found me in the bathroom with a chisel and hammer one day and suggested offhandidly that i try my gizmo. Oh, to be sure it's still a slooow agonizing process to unearth the bones of a wall. I can tell you almost to the year that changes were made in the house and at some point i won't be surprise to unearth hieroglyphics done in some time in later BC. My vi sons of cleanly painted walls also went out the window. I have ordered more wallpaper to cover the disasters.

Now, wallpapering has come a long ways over the decades in most countries. I have hung prepasted borders (remember the era of the stencil and Debbie Travis?) I wouldn't call myself a guru or anything but i consider my skills to be passable. Uh huh, *never* in my wildest dreams did i think that i would ever be standing at my kitchen sink mixing vats of glue from scratch into pails and slathering it on pock marked walls. I have come out of my tiny bathroom with bits of glue and paper stuck to my hair and joined my family for our nightly family dinner with no more than a Zombie type gaze at them across the table. Of course Chris has nothing to add to the conversation as he seems to be in an equal state, covered with drywall dust and the same haunted look apparently he too is in too deep to back out. We have invested heavily in plaster, paper and wine so far the combination of the three has our optimism high.

The Breen Family -unplugged

I've been thinking about Christmas much over the last couple of days. I've been putting it off in my mind for a while you see. I've been out of sorts and my Seasonal mind has been put on some sort of jet lag/time delay. I know, you are all rolling your eyes while I tell tales of being out of sorts in sunny places and the wreath looking strange with the palm tree background but there I am at any rate, not feeling overly the usual anticipation of the holiday and all it holds. Here's the thing, Christmas is a time for reflection among other things for me. Go past the parties, cookies, and presents and there I am thinking of how far removed I am from the events that unfold back home right now. It's hard not to think of the people in your life that gave you this ornament or that. Looking at the tree as I decorate, I am reminded of Christmas's past and the history of each item I hang.

Life on the island has taught me much in the short time that we have been here. The Man and I agree that it seems so much longer that we have been transplanted. We concur that maybe it's because we have done so much with the time that we have had, our weeks seem to fly by. Trying to find our niche, work, school and the endless renovation projects at hand there is always things to busy our hands but what about our minds? Where are we at these days?

I know that without a doubt I miss my life back home. I know now how much family and your friendships mean to me. I miss you all, truly I do. But I think with the holiday and Christmas tradition of giving and receiving of presents, this is the one present that I have received that I treasure most. I feel that missing the people in your life is really a gift It has shown me now how much of my life has been connected to yours even in the smallest of ways, you all are there. Time apart and such has made me understand how important these relationships are and the history that we share.

The Breen's are down to the bare bones of what makes a house a home and the people in your life a family... it is a another gift I find under my tree this year. I guess you could look at it this way; People that are financially comfortable in their lives are the first to tell you that money isn't everything and that you can always make more when you spend it on the materialistic. This is true. There are others out there who are far less secure financially and will tell you otherwise. They are the ones that are looking for the material and some even looking to just pay the rent. They will tell you money does make a difference and again, for those trying to heat their houses this winter that is a very true statement. I think though, with all that we strive to attain in our lives of the material longings we sometimes miss the true, bigger picture of what we should be about. I have far less material things in my life and I can't say that I miss them. I treat all that I have now as a gift and I take far less for granted. My focus has changed too then you could say. We are a small family with tighter bonds than ever before. Our lives are being shaped and molded now by life experiences and not the next gadget or trip or shopping spree. It has been a bit of a revelation really. My life has always been blessed but now I know really how much that means to me.

I wish you all so much happiness in your lives. I wish you peace of mind and a full heart. I hope for you all to be able to spend time with your loved ones and hopefully make many wonderful memories this holiday season that you can look back on in the years to come and smile with fondness, love and laughter. These are the best gifts of all.

Know that you are all on my mind and in my heart and I treasure you all.

Merry Christmas!

Jenn

Chris "Light" only half the calories

Ok, it's somewhat of a daunting task to write about someone that is going to be reading your blog. Especially since the whole blog is about, well, himself. Like most CEO's of a cooperation i am really not anything more than a figurehead that gains funds from the hardworking efforts of the Management team. So most of the credit of our lifestyle and location are largely due to The Mister's efforts. Do i sound like i am sucking up enough? Very well, let's begin.

As you go with your life you discover that there are a few talents that you possess that maybe the masses do not. Some of us even end up on David Letterman for the Stupid Human Tricks portion of that show. Some others go and raise that bar a wee bit higher and turn into, say, Bill Gates and redefine a worlds technological revolution. By and large though the rest of us are left to figure out what we do best and go about happy in the knowledge that we can recite the alphabet backwards, run and chew gum, or beat the top score on a video game. WE know we're special in our own way. Chris too has many talents as well. At least he thought he had until he met his staff.

The first order of being the new kid in school is almost always to find out where you stand with your mates. You do this by asking questions and trying to find common ground to bond with. With men, in the big kid school of business, it's no different and so here goes our fearless leader to assess the troops. Meet Chris's counterpart. (Name withheld), like Himself, plays the horn. Imagine that, we haven't met too many people who do this. The conversation goes on and suddenly Chris finds that (name withheld) *may* be a bit more accomplished with this horn playing business. In fact,(name withheld) is in a band and He competes and He has won awards. In other words (name withheld) is accomplished at this horn playing business, perhaps Chris would like to duet sometime? Pass and Thank you.

The Mister also prides himself on being somewhat of computer whiz. From where i stand he is a God in the way he is able to connect the TV/Satellite/Mac and make them do all the things that i want. Please let me introduce (another name withheld) from the office. I admit, this guy is good... very good in fact. I have seen movies a week before they premiere in North American cinemas. Good friend to have when the latest to hit the screen here is "UP". I look forward to my next weekly bootleg of prime time American TV. HE could easily make David's list of performers as well as it has been told to me that he has no intestines having them removed some years back due to Cancer. To my knowledge Chris has retained his innards so far.

This brings me to (final name withheld). Superman is sharing office space at the moment with Himself. Clark Kent just happens to be a runner, like Himself. Wellll, ok, maybe not *just* like Himself as Clark appears to like to bike as well. He peddles 137km on a Saturday just for fun. As an effort to "bond" with Clark on a recent roadtrip, Chris joined him for his morning run. Down the beach they went, up a mountain, Clark looked at the view while Chris had his head between his legs trying not to faint. Back down the mountain they go and over the sandy beaches to the hotel. It was a terse email that i received later that morning claiming that this guy was a cyborg and Chris was having issues climbing a flight of stairs. Alex Trebek is also the worlds foremost authority on everything. I say this again with awe since He is not one of those who likes to "one up" you. No, he just retains every bit of information he has ever ingested right from emerging from his mother i believe. Whenever i have a question about local life here or my period i urge Chris to talk to Alex about these things to see if he has an answer. So far if there were a giant whiteboard posted the score would be 1 000 000 for Alex and 2 for Chris.

There is one thing that i know that Chris has managed to claim supremacy on. For some reason no one at the office knows how to play Poker. Himself is rooting thru boxes trying to find his chips and giggling with glee now. As for me i a bit more generous with what i see in Himself's accomplishments and maybe he just needs to be reminded of them. I see Chris as fearless and strong and his enthusiasm and vision has lead us all here quite willingly... a feat to be sure to convince the masses to pick up their pleasant little lives and challenge themselves by moving so far away from home. He dreams big and i have never doubted for a minute that he will do what he set out for himself here. He's never proven me wrong and in this case we can both agree that it's good that i am right.

Hormonal Struggles and Tween Angst

Shayla, our oldest spawn has turned into a walking talking hormone. Oh sure she still has her "Littlest Petshop" critters laying about her room but what has begone to take over is her Twilight posters, books, and other such memorabilia. She is on Team Jacob if you wanted to know. Also the Jonas Brothers are on most of the walls and i catch Ronin singing "Love Bug" under his breath as he passes by me. We are heading to the Twilight Premier tonight - the boys are being dragged along to drown out the wistful sighs from the girl by their gagging. I don't believe my rolling of the eyes makes any noise but trust me it's there. I probably look full on like i am in the throws of Mad Cow disease every time that girl starts to talk about her keen interest in boys. Oh! There is a boy to be sure.

Max. What kind of name is that i wonder? What kind of boy is my girl toting the virtues of that i swallow vomit in my mouth every time this name is mentioned in her breathy sighs. I have seen "Max" from a safe distance in my car at school one day. We drove ever so slooowly by so she could wave frantically at him at he loaded onto the bus after school. He totally didn't see her even though i was close to getting a black eye from all her waving efforts. Perhaps it's because she is such a tiny thing that he has not yet looked down to see her? It's strange because i failed to notice the halo/golden aura about him that he reported to have as well about his person. I know more about Max and the way he breathes/eats/stands than his own mother does i am sure.

I don't know though, as much as Shayla would die to defend him, that Max has had as much of an impact as the recent camping trip she went on with her class. It was with much trepidation that Shayla packed her bags and cookies and loaded herself onto a tour bus with 250 other year 7 students to a 3 hour drive away from home. Sure, she's been on sleepovers and with her Grands for a few days but never has she felt so scared as she was waving a tentative goodbye from the bus portal. We, as parents, did the best we could with keeping a cheerful air and tucking in the contraband stuffed animal into her pillow case but in the back of our minds we really did wonder if she was ready to be on her own away from us for 4 days/ 3 nights.

I came to pick her up after a blissful 4 day reprieve from Max stories and i have got to tell you that i did enjoy the quiet to a point. Strangely enough, the boy elected to keep quiet on not take up the empty space of his sisters constant stream of yammering. This is rather unusual for us as it seems that once she leaves he just takes up the quiet with his talk of the whatever. Anyways, it was a gong show of events with i am guessing close to 300 parents outside the school entrance and 4 tour buses of tweens making a mass exodus -2 1/2 hours late! I wore heels to the event... not to be stylish but to have the edge of spotting her. Er, well that was the plan but it didn't go as well as that. Chaos was the leader here and i began to panic making my way from bus to bus trying not to step on too many toddlers to find my girl. I finally gave up and ended up in the gym hoping to see her bags and confirmation that she made it back alive. The tension left me when from around a corner she appeared and i was *almost* a puddle of emotion seeing her in front of me. How could she have changed so much? Is it possible to grow 2" in that short of time? Her face? Why did it look so different? She was so composed and, well, sure of herself. It was spooky.

I was so anxious that she was going to be a hot mess when i saw her and well, the clothes probably needed to be burned but there she was, standing in front of me telling me tales of her many adventures with a big grin plastered from ear to ear. "Mom! I have changed! (no shit...oh God please tell me she didn't get her period!) "I have done sooo many things and challenged myself and surprised myself with all that i can do! It was AMAZING!" So, she told me tales of rafting and swimming out with the boats and facing her fears while crying through them. She talked about ropes and climbing and sleeping out under the stars. She ate bugs (and not by accident like i tend to do!) She trekked thru the mountains, peed in the woods and all sorts of nasty things that i can only see on Survivor, my daughter - the ultimate survivor! I stood, slack jawed as my girl, my wee, little baby all dirty faced and smelly proudly showed me her dozens of bug bites and scratches. What do i do now? Is my job done? Do i just hand her the car keys and fade quietly into the background as she goes and picks up Max and heads to the bar? Maybe they have planned a back pack trip to Europe by now? No. Max is still unaware of her existence - for now. She came out of the shower newly scrubbed faced and in her flannels holding onto her beloved Stuffie Spot and climbed into our laps for a cuddle and snuggle. She's still there, my little girl and as tightly as i wish to hold onto her i can only cherish the here and now.

Enough about Me (memememe!)

Ok. We've been here awhile and i guess that *maybe* others in this family have experiences to share. This is not ALL about me. That said, i still have the power to edit everyone's lives here .

Let's start with the youngest of our clan, Ronin. I say the name Ronin but i still think of him as Eraserhead in my mind, -going back to the weeks before our move and the removal of such an object from the young man's ear. "I don't know how it got in there!" Seriously Ronin? Seriously? Mom was up late at nights thinking it was a big, pink, tumor while we waited for the Specialist appointment. I could have happily choked him while he was sitting on the dental type chair waiting for the Specialist to come in and look at his ear after the interns parting words were, "I think it may be a foreign object." I stared at him with my mother antennae popping up out of me head and casually asked; "If *you* were a "foreign" object in your ear, Ronin, what would you be?" Without missing a beat he replied, "An ERASER!" BINGO and the Bonanza!

Anywho, Ronin is doing amazingly well here on the island. He's certainly come into his own as a socializer in school. I have had the pleasure many a day of having my ass sticking out of a cardboard box and hearing him say, "Hey mom! This is Vomsie/Chris/Maori child whose name i can't pronounce. All the boys are very polite and seem to stay here for extended periods of time. I am not actually sure that "Vomsie" has a proper home as he seems to find ours much more appealing. He has reported that he lives in the vague direction of the Cemetery -somewhat telling I'm sure.

Academically i am not so sure where he is. They seem to teach "coloring" a lot as in, "Ronin, what did you do today at school?" Colored, had tea time (recess) and played Rugby and colored some more. Tis true. I have many pictures of the landscape from him to prove this.

Eraser-er, Ro also just celebrated his 10th year out on the planet. We went to a Comicon Convention of sorts. Video games/ comics/ latest in gadgetry. All very mind numbing for the 5 hours we were there. I was in awe of ppl of a certain age that showed up dressed in their favorite character from video games and comics. Rather disturbing to see a 35 year old chubby woman in torn fish nets and satiny jumpsuit clinging on to the arm of a Zombie but it takes all kinds i guess. Ronin tried his hand at Zorbing. For you that are not in the know, Zorbing, like bungee jumping, originated here. Unlike Bungee jumping you may be able to convince me to get into a giant inflatable plastic ball and roll down a hill or in the water (as Ronin tried.)

Finally, we are back to Ronin's ear. Now instead of putting objects INTO his ears he has decided that he would like to adorn one of them with an earring. Shayla is torn. She's quite decided that this is a lesson for him to learn not an actual objective. In her mind he's gotten it all infected and has left an amazing scar on his lobe because he hasn't clean it properly. He is going to be miserable and regretted his choice all because he's so amazingly lazy in his personal upkeep. In other words the boy is doomed before he even sits in that chair. What to say? Kinda knows the boy... and yet off we go on a Saturday to look for a place to pierce his ear.

We ended up in a drugstore of all places and in the backroom. All 4 of us squished into a cubby with our backs pressed against the wall. Up to this point the boy has been super chatty and animated about getting this done even with Shay's dire warnings of tetanus and death. There was a certain mood shift as the tech came in with the gun. I swear we are a bunch of vultures you know, with our necks straining to see every emotion that fleets across his face as she loads up the gun. It's sick, i know. I snap out of it and become Mom once again and sit by my son and hold his hand and mark the spot for the stab. He was impaled on the count of three and a heavy silence followed as everyone held their breath and waited to see. Unfortunately, Ronin was also holding his breath and i had to remind him to breathe and gently forced his head between his knees when the color did not return to his face. (Let's face it folks, it's a lot easier to hide your shock and pain and fat tear rolling down your cheek too!) We have already had our first earring adventure when last night the back of it came off while him and Shay were cleaning it. Quick! Check inside his ear!! The whole mess came out while locating the back and Chris had to impale the boys new flesh wound *again*, OY! Beauty is pain and although I am reminded constantly why men are not ever going to be any good at giving birth, it's just an ear hole for gosh sake stop whimpering! I am happy to report that there was a certain bounce in his step as he made it way out the door for school this morning scheming of ways to get his class to notice his new adornment without actually having to say something. I give him 10 minutes.