Dead Sea Whaaa?

During Spring Break, rather than having a single destination, we had decided to stay home, and do a little bit here and there. Down time combined with Fun time. We were all up for it. I did not tell the boys the next day's agenda, and they would find out the day's plans on the morning of. Surprise makes any occasion a special one. Every morning, we'd wake up, and the boys would ask with true enthusiasm, "Where are we going today?" All plans were happily accepted, especially by Baby E., who loved doing anything that was new. With every announced plan at the breakfast table, he'd shout, complete with fist pump, "Yes!"

We'd all clean up the table, get ready with what we needed, and we'd be off.

"Mom, where's our trip today?" asked Maximus. I couldn't wait to tell them, "We are going to see The Dead Sea Scrolls!" I went on to explain how I had to order the tickets for the exhibit 2 weeks ago, and the exhibit was on loan from 4 separate museums, along with private collectors. This exhibit had taken years of international negotiations, and had cost a great deal of money in terms of insurance and being on loan. They were fascinated. Baby E seemed to just ponder the information, with a quizzical look in his eye.

"This exhibit contains articles that are over 2,000 years old!" I had all their eyes and ears. "These articles were stored in tall clay jars. A shepherd found them when he was throwing rocks down a cave. He said that every time he threw a rock into a cave's opening, he'd hear the shattering of a clay pot. " They stared at me, waiting for my next word. "All in all, they found 11 caves full of these tall clay receptacles. When they opened the jars, do you know what they found? They found some contained the Dead. Sea. Scrolls." Still no peep from Baby E., I did find it odd that he did not cheer today's announced event. Oh, well, perhaps he had become jaded by all the fantastic fun mama had planned all week.

We were packed and ready to go, our chatter continued on in the car. "Mom, how did they hold the scrolls together?" one son asked. "Mom, how do they know they found all the scrolls?" "Those are all great questions, and we can ask there. The exhibit holds all the Dead Sea Scrolls. Just think, over 2,000 years old! And we get to see them." I glanced in the rear view mirror, trying to zero in on Baby E's face. He was just taking in the conversation, but not with any excitement in particular.

We finally arrived at the museum, were able to park close enough, and rushed in to pick up our special "Dead Sea Scrolls" exhibit tickets at the WillCall Box. "Ah! here are the tickets! Let's go!" Everyone ran ahead, but you know who was just dragging his feet. "What is wrong, honey?" I studied his eyes for a hint. "Nothing. But, are you sure every one wants to see this?" he wondered. "Oh, yeah, this is huge," I explained, "Big stuff. Like the kind of thing you'll tell your kids about."

He walked on, not saying much, holding my hand. We waited in our assigned queue for the 10:30 exhibit showing. "There's a lot of people here, aren't there?" I said, in attempts to get a conversation going with him. "Yeah. I just can't believe everyone wants to see this." he sounded so skeptical. "Of course," I said, "who wouldn't be interested? Just think, 2000 years old!"

Baby E was quietly chewing on his upper lip, as he does, when he just can't put the pieces together. "Mom, is that all we're going to see?" he wanted to know."Is that all?, I echoed, "Oh, gosh, we'll be here an hour, reading about the discovery, and how they pieced everything together. You'll like it, honest. I'll tell you about everything we'll look at. We'll even get the audiophone guided tour, too, alright?" He still didn't seem too reassured.

The velvet ropes were unclasped, and we were allowed to enter. There was the mystic music, and the sand dune background. There were the placards, and the pictures, and the stories, and finally, at the end, the clay jars! And the Dead Sea Scrolls!

Baby E. stood in the middle of the exhibit, "Well, where are they?," he sounded more than just a little perturbed. "They're all right here," I answered, "now, shhhh, please." "No, where are the dead sea squirrels that they found 2,000 years ago? You said we were going to see them today."

Parents: 'tis wise to explain terms one takes for granted as an adult, such as "Dead Sea" not really being something physically dead. And, hello? but why would a little guy know what a "scroll" is anyway. Makes total sense to me.



Exhibit A-----The DEAD "sea squirrel" as in, the amphibious creature that lives both on land AND sea, and that has been DEAD for 2,000 years.

The Honeymoon is Over

Way back, at the end of February, on Day Two of this baby blog, I had written "Hey! I blogged! And no one commented that I was an idiot and self-loving! I think I'm going to be OK! Gee, I'm glad I finally worked up the guts to start a blog. This.is.awesome.!"

Well, that lasted, what? 30 odd posts total.

I deleted a post I had up for a few hours yesterday. I had poked fun at living with a teenage son. I adore him, he is my first born, my life began with this boy, but life with someone this age can be funny. I had written some dialogue tidbits, of what it's like, all tongue-in-cheek, about mornings with a surly 14 year old. For me, my life coping skill is humor. If I can find a way to make it funny, I'll be alright.

The first few commenters realized the jest of it all, and smirked along with me, wishing me luck. But, then, the comments turned, and they criticized my son. Another commenter told me few bloggers can write, and I was among those that can't. Yet another felt it pressing and urgent to let me know that she had read the past posts, and they were a waste of time and about nothing. Now, when I visit a blog, and see something that I can't relate to, I just "X" out. Nice and quiet.

My gut reaction was alarm. I didn't want that post up anymore. My son is fantastic, the best there is...what were they saying? So, I deleted it. Then I went to bed, developed a migraine, and spent an hour laying in bed this morning. Do I just take a break? Do I just stop, say I tried it, not for me? And then I thought of all the fantastic people I've met because of beginning this blog. I had to think of that. I also began this blog for me. I really do like to blog.

And my take on life is different, in the same way that the commenters way of providing feedback is different.

Perhaps these commenters think that I actually think I'm an Empress. I don't. Or think that I'm bragging that I have an empire. I don't have an empire. I am a woman, who stays home with my children during the day. I work evenings for a caterer, so I can be home during the day with them. I have a house, with a small backyard; no empire.

Do they think that I imagine myself a fantastic writer? I don't. I am not an English major, I graduated in Special Education. I take care that my posts are literate, and I prepare them, I don't type off the cuff. What I have learned, in my life, is that humor saves me. And kindness unto others, saves me.

Without an excessive amount of detail, I will just say a few things. I feel rushed bringing up these issues, but the commenters have made me think that perhaps I've been misread, with my "Empress" title. I am anything but.

I grew up in the proverbial unhappy household with a verbally abusive, sarcastic mother (let me tell you, those commenters put her voice right back in my head) and the parental suicide. All of my siblings and I have developed a sense of humor to cope with this. People tell us that we are funny, we make them laugh. It's as if we are survivors of something, which, in fact, we are. I work hard to bring humor into our home, and make our children laugh, because I grew up with a mother that did not laugh, or smile, or talk to us, or make eye contact. I'm trying to make up for a lot.

With my traumatic childhood aside, I am now an adult who also has lived through alarming situations that each have shortened my lifespan with every occurrence. Each of my pregnancies were high risk, and I was hospitalized and on bedrest with each one. Despite all these efforts, we have children who were all born early, and each were in NICU, unable to breathe on their own. Once we survived the bedrest, and the preterm labors, our children then developed serious food allergies and asthma. We've come too close to some very serious turn of events in Emergency Rooms that I don't even like to remember. I treasure every day that they're here because of how hard we worked to get them here, and keep them here.

This is all part of my life, but I've forgotten about all these life happenings, until now. This is what I'm from, I don't think I'm an Empress. I'm just joking along, because if you don't laugh, then you'll just stay under the covers.

So, all this to say: I won't close up the blog. The mean lady did come knocking at the door. But so did all the really great friends I've made. So, I'm sticking around. So what if I can't write. Big Deal. It's not awful stuff, it's literate. And from now, I will place a disclaimer at the beginning of my post stating that I love this particular child I'm writing about to the moon and back, but I'm still going to tell you what he did today.

Now, please excuse me, while I go bury my face in their hair. Because I love them, they are everything to me, and I want to be sure they know that.

Hasten, Children, The Hour is Nigh

Me: "Children, get thee down, do not be as fools!"

2nd Oldest: "What is she talking about?"

Oldest: " *sigh* I think she wants us downstairs for breakfast."

Baby E: "Do we have to come down already, Mom?"

Me: "I have my raised my voice to you, yet you have not quickened your step. You think that all is well, but I have asked you to complete the task assigned unto you---and yet it is to be seen!"

Oldest: "Alright, Mom, we're coming down....but we have off today, and all week, remember?"

Me: "Slovenliness? You speak of slovenliness? I have not languished in my bed, and yet I am renewed of strength and spirit! I strike while the hour is present, I have shown you this ten times by ten times, so you may see it as truth. But you still have no faith in my ways!"

Baby E: " Mom, I don't want to have breakfast now. I want to just stay upstairs and play with my Legos for awhile first."

Me: "Laughter? Play? You shall hear neither until our tasks are done on this day. And when your stomach cramps with hunger, then where shall you look for what was once laid before you? No, child, no, I warn you to be careful of which master you choose to serve."

2nd Oldest: "We'd better go downstairs, I know her, she won't stop."

Me: "Do my sons refuse? Is it because I am a simple woman? Is it because I do not strike fear in your heart? No, it is not fear that I want you to act upon, but love....yes! love, for what else is there for me to give? Children, come, come! That I may quench thy thirst, and warm your bellies with that which I have labored to set before you."

2nd Oldest: "*sigh* Don't tell me, let me guess, Mom's been staying up late watching The Ten Commandments again."

Oldest: "Yup."

Me: "Come, my oldest, for my love for you is stronger than any fierce wrath which you may have, O my teenage son. Come to me, all my sons, arise! to greet a day, let us go forth, let the trumpets sound! and let us surrender our hearts to the treasures of a day of which we have never seen!

The Caravan awaits to take us to our journey. We must go with all speed!"

Baby E: "Does she mean get in the car?"

The Dork At The Keyboard, Exhibit B

Me: (to myself) "Wow!! Holy Cow!! Hooking up with these blogger clubs really works, look! I have 83 new email messages on my gmail account! This is so cool."

click, read,click, read,click, read....

Me: "Hey, all these emails have nothing to do with me. I never even heard of these people, and they don't even mention me..."

Smart 14 yr old Son: "Mom, go in and check your email settings."

Me: "Whaaaaa?"

Smart Son: "Here, mom, let me drive....click, click, click.....MOM!!! aaaaaaaaaargh....."

Me: "Yes, honey?"

Smart Son: "You checked "yes" for "please alert me of new member activity!"

Me: "Oh, okay (said in very small, very tiny letters) , that makes sense. Well, it was fun to see all those emails for me, anyway, that weren't actually for me...."

Smart Son: "Mom, Dad's right, you just can't keep pushing buttons."

Dream Interp 101

What does it mean when you sit up in bed at 5:17 a.m. like you've been hit by a bolt of lightning from a real as life dream where the van you're driving, which isn't your usual green one BTW, but some other van you've never even seen before, is speeding down your residential street at some unnameable speed, and not the legally posted 25 mph that you always do and the steering wheel is powerless in your hands?

What does it mean when you wake up from this dream on the Friday morning before Easter Sunday. The Easter Sunday that is 2 days away, and some 10 give or take relatives are due to come for dinner, and you haven't even swiped a counter, or dusted a table, or swished a toilet yet? When you haven't even penned out the grocery list yet, much less planned the menu, or shopped for it?

Could this dream have anything to do with the awesome Easter baskets that you're famous the "house-over" for, the very baskets that your children have been talking about for days, the ones that you always have prepared and they just can't wait to find all the clever clues tucked here and there in the house, that lead them to these heavenly baskets bursting with everything they can imagine? The wonderful baskets you haven't even pulled out of storage yet?

"Probably just that cold pizza you ate right before you went to bed," offers my husband. "Just go back to sleep." Maybe he can go back to sleep, but I know I can't. I fling back the covers, my heart still pounding from the dream. "I'm no dummy....I took Psych 101...I know exactly what that dream means," I mutter to myself. I throw on my cleaning clothes, pull my hair back in a rubber band, and decide I'll begin with the toilets. I can mentally do the grocery list while I scrub, and I'm pretty sure that within the next 24 hours I'll remember where I have the Easter baskets from last year...



HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE!!!


****************

I do have a preoccupation with toilets, and their cleanliness. The following will explain it all: I live with 4 males. Not as sexy as it sounds.