Ginger Unplugged

A BOY is visiting Princess. It begins.

Crash: What's Mom's name? Monkey: Ginger. Crash: What's Dad's name? Monkey: Dear.

Crash: Mom, what's Constantinople? Me: A city. Crash: Really? Me: It used to be called Istanbul. It's in Turkey. Crash: Wow Mom, you're really impressive.* Thank you 80's alternative music. * Note: Crash wasn't actually all that impressed.

Princess absolutely refuses to believe Cameron's theory on the grounds that 1 divided by infinity is most definitely not zero. "I'm one in an infinite universe of stuff and I am something!"

I get asked a lot how to get picture books published. That's not surprising although there are a few things about it that always intrigue me. 1. It's usually not the writer who's asking. I always find that interesting. 2. The people who are asking don't really want to know. I mean, not really really. I discussed this second point with my husband and he very logically told me to give people the short answer. So from now on when someone asks they get to hear: "Look up 'picture book manuscript format' online and then submit your story to as many publishers as possible." The problem with that plan is my pathological desire to answer every question to the best of my ability. So up to this point when people have asked me for their friends, spouses and children how to publish picture books I've generally just stare at them blankly because I don't even know where to start. So maybe when those people really really want to know how to do it, I can hope t...

Crash: Mom, do you believe zero time infinity equals one? Me: No. Zero times anything is zero. Crash: Gosh! NO! Listen, one over infinity is zero right? [1/&infin=0]. Me: Um, no, one over infinity is one over infinity. [1/&infin = 1/&infin]. Crash: But think about it. Say you have infinity miles to go. And you walk one mile. You still have infinity to go, right? Me:...uh, yeah.... Crash: So, it's the same as if you've gone zero miles. Right!? Me: Wait, wait, wait...numerically, I've gone one mile, even if I have infinity to go. Crash: Numerically? NUMERICALLY?! Stop thinking like that and really think. Sheesh! Now, going one mile out of infinity is the same as going zero miles. Me: But my legs are tired and it's taken me ten minutes. You can't call that nothing. Crash: Anyway, so yes, it's zero because it made no difference in going infinity. It's nothing. Zero. You still have infinity to go. You haven't gotten anywhere. Get it? Me: Fine. Cra...

Princess left her homework out and I have to admit I was having a great time reading it. Her answer to questions 6 says: Well, I think it's fascinating that people think that we're over racism because we have a black president, when really, if that were true no one would make such a big deal about it.

We were on our way to Crash's first outdoor performance of the musical Coconut Island. Crash was moping in the van and saying (and I quote), "Musicals are a pit of humiliation with no point." I was hoping Husband would offer encouragement having been in many, many musicals himself. But no. So I nudged him. Me: "Have YOU been in any embarrassing musicals, Husband?" Husband: "Ooooh yes. Dracula and the Bogus Pompadour." Crash: Pompadour? Husband: Yeah. It's a really bad hairstyle. I was Dracula with big hair. And the whole thing was written and directed by a guy we called Captain Cloud. On off nights I was Hulk Hogan and got to rip off my shirt and stuff. He ends up defeating Dracula's pompadour you know. I'm not sure it helped Crash feel better but he did stop complaining.

Here are my kids' answers to that well-worn question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Princess: A novelist and a pilot. Crash: An engineer, astronaut or a photographer. (Funny, he never takes pictures of anything.) Butterfly: A cat groomer, "And when I really grow up...a museum artist." Monkey: An Astronaut. I asked him "What does an astronaut do?" He responded, "Flies around in spaceships and pushes buttons and stuff." I think he's got a pretty good handle on it. Unfortunately, Sleestack didn't answer as her only words are banana, light and plant.

Crash's school asked if he could be part of a marketing program to increase school lunch awareness next year. They want to take pictures of him to use on their Child Nutrition Web Site, posters for lunch rooms and the district office, newspaper articles and all that. There are two problems with this. (1) Crash is not a big fan of school lunch and neither am I. (2) They're not going to like the goofy faces Crash insists on making in every photo taken of him. "They'll just have to deal," he says. A taste of what they're in for: Somehow, I don't think I'm going to get the chance to fight for a federally mandated gluten free lunch option in order for them to use his stunning modeling skills nation wide.

Oh my gosh. You will probably not be as amused at this as I am but Monkey started singing this out of the blue today. I think Butterfly taught him. The Words: Don't snap your fingers in a Z-formation, Head rotation, Elbow, Elbow Wrist, wrist Aww, give me a kiss.

I could barely drag Monkey away from gardening today--he loves it. I finally had to force him into the van so we could pick up other kids from school. As I drove, he asked what else we could plant. I told him the usuals: pumpkins, zucchini, strawberries, tomatoes, corn... "I don't like those except strawberries and corn," he said. "What would you like to plant?" I asked. He thought about it for a second and came back with, "Butter."

I was called a Mormon Baptist the the other day. I wasn't sure if that would be upsetting to Mormons or Baptists but I was assured it was a compliment. Apparently I have an energetic teaching style. Can I hear an "Amen?" And would you like to hear more?

Yes, I'm revisiting Thanksgiving in March because I keep thinking that I have to blog this. First of all, I was very proud of myself for making an entire Thanksgiving meal on November 25th (the day BEFORE Thanksgiving). It had cranberries, mashed potatoes, a token salad, an ice cream pie with pumpkin pie spices in it and this exact turkey: Feeling very satisfied with myself, I took a call from my mother. "Can you bring the rolls tomorrow?" Now this is a very stressful question. Every Sunday of my growing up years we went to dinner at my "Grandma Red's" (my mom's mom) where my dad would say that the rolls weren't as good as his mother's. Unfortunately, this was probably true. Nearly all the comments made at his mother's funeral were about her cooking. In fact, I distinctly remember an aunt tearing up as she said, "And her rolls...they were like eating a cloud!" My mom who has a competitive cooking streak once asked her mother...

You know how toll free numbers sometimes use letters? Like 1-800-BUY-STUF would mean you have to dial 1-800-289-7883. Well, Butterfly kindly discovered that the numbers for MOM on the phone are 666. Coincidence or the sign of the beast? She's having a great deal of fun with this.

I have been dreading Valentine's season for several weeks now. Besides the fact that my kids' school classes are always just a few students' more than the number of valentines in the average box, Princess and Crash are obsessed with making the most complicated Valentine's Day boxes on the planet. This year I was prepared with relatively simple ideas I found online. See? But Crash approached me sooner than I expected. Crash: MOM! I have the best idea for a Valentine's Day box! Me: Uhhhh (frantically reaching for my computer to show him the picture). Crash: Well, I actually have two ideas. Maybe I can make them both. One is super easy. Me: Really? (He knows what I want to hear.) Crash: Yeah the first one has like a spring release to shoot the valentines into my box. Me: Oh yeah? Great. What's the easy one? Crash: That IS the easy one! The hard one is cooler though. You get a blow dryer and...hey, do we have any clear pipe? At this point I show...

Crash had to make a safety notebook for cub scouting. Apparently this is some kind of binder or stapled papers they put together with emergency phone numbers on it. His says: Safety notebook Fire, ambulance, police 911 That's it. At least he's efficient.

Butterfly had a school assignment that told her to "Circle the compound word. Then write its meaning on the line." For snowflake she wrote "fluff of ice."

Our house is currently covered in balloons--well, at least the floor of our house. Monkey has taken to setting them over the heater vent to see them float, which is pretty impressive I have to admit. He is also enjoying playing with a brand spankin' new Thomas the Train bouncy ball. For whatever reason, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to teach him the science of "Heavy and Light." Me: Hey Monkey, those balloons look so cool, do you think your ball will float? Monkey: Yep. Me: Let's try it. (The ball doesn't float.) Me: Why do you think it doesn't float? Monkey: I don't know. Me: Is it heavier than the balloons? Monkey: Yep, it's heavier. Me: The balloons are lighter. Monkey: Oh yeah. We don't have dark balloons. Me: No, I mean the ball is heavy, not light. The balloons are light, not heavy. Monkey: Right, the ball isn't light like the Sun. Me: Well, true. But it's heavy. That's why it doesn...

This is Monkey's art which he calls Mad Cat. He is obviously very good at capturing emotion with nothing but a green dry erase marker. "Why is the cat mad?" I asked. "His parents left him with a babysitter." Nice.