Mamazina Blog

Gustav

“He’s coming straight at you.” My son Cory warns.

“Wrong Answer”, I quickly retort.

This is the peak time for hurricanes along the Gulf of Mexico. In mass, we closely monitor all storms as they brew, churn and spew off the coast of Africa. At this time, we have Gustav barreling towards the gulf coast with Hanna hot is on his tail. All televisions tune into Jim Cantore and the Weather Channel morning and night. Every store conversation, every phone call, every waking moment is consumed with Gustav’s impending arrival.

Six Days before the Storm: Grouchy Wednesday

Purchase bulk dog food, chew sticks and bird food. Mow the yard removing and securing all lightweight items. Boats secured. The Dollar General has cars lined up outside the store with hustling people within. Family members call with the same question. “Why do you live there?”

Five Days before the Storm: Body Aches Thursday

The local Exxon station is sucked dry of gas with no pending delivery in sight.
Do all dirty laundry because the power may be out for weeks. Wal*Mart has water jugs piled high in the aisles. Families huddle together shopping. Grocery shelves empty, no bean with bacon soup, no applesauce, no fruit cups, no tuna. Friends call with different question. “When will you learn?”

Four Days before the Cat-1 Hurricane: Ulcers Friday

Test all kerosene lanterns. Check batteries. Check matches. Get cash. Take down hanging plants. Bungee trash cans. Pay bills. Stop Netflix. Pack documents and papers in large plastic tubs with clothes and shoes. Evacuation route is planned, plywood for windows purchased. Family/friends call with scary question. “Are you going to leave?”

Three Days before Cat-4 Hurricane: Migraine Headache Saturday

All local gas stations are bone dry. Neighbors huddle in the streets talking about sustaining winds and quickly dropping millibar pressure. A Parade of RV’s, trucks pulling oversized boats and masses of motorcycles slowly eek down the two-lane road, all evacuating. The air quality is poor. Moist, heavy, foul air makes it hard to breathe. The phone is ringing off the hook with inquires and safety concerns meantime the weather forecast continually-drones-on in the background.

Two Days before the Cat-4: Surrender Sunday

In my area along the coast, we expect Gustav to launch his attack early. By nightfall, we’re threatened by water surges and flooding. In addition, Gustav will turn his rage into storm force winds fueling tornados in the wee morning hours, Monday.

Oops, I’ve got to go; someone’s beating at my back door.

“Oh, Hello Gustav, Cory told me to expect you!”

~Pamela Vanden Bos, Mom Writers Literary Magazine

Labor Day Weekend

It's funny I'm typing this to the sound of fireworks.  The city of Goodyear cancelled fireworks on the 4th of July.  They were rescheduled for tonight labor day weekend.  My girls finished their first month of school already.  They have a four day weekend for labor day.  We are going up north to escape the valley heat.  The girls have been excited about the trip all week.  This morning they kept begging me to pack.

"We will.  We will.  I need to clean the house first."  I can ignore the housework piling up until we go on a trip.  My house always gets a thorough cleaning before I leave it.  One time my husband had to make a special trip for a vacuum belt, because I told him I wasn't going anywhere until I got the vacuuming completed.

Housework was pretty well in hand.  I took down suitcases, and the girls and I started packing.  Then my husband came home.  It wasn't even 1 PM yet.  I was working on the computer and I hear, Daddy's home!  At first I thought the girls were trying to fool me then I hear the front door open.  What?

"How come you're home early?" the girls asked.

"We got rained out," he answered.  What I heard - I got reamed out.  I panicked, thinking Oh no did he get fired.  He came into the bedroom where I was working.  He looked HOT and STICKY.

"You didn't get fired did you?"

He gave me this strange look and said, "It's hot out there."  Didn't answer my question.

"Why did you get reamed out?"

Another strange look.  "You didn't get fired did you?"

"No," still looking at me as if I grew a third eye.  "The roof blew off and we had no electricity.  We were cleaning up the debris, wiping down the machines and oiling them without air conditioning."

"Why did you say you got reamed out then?"

Ahhhh.... "No I said we got rained out."  He doesn't think they'll be up and running until Wednesday.  Meanwhile his boss called later and said they sold more machines.  He tried to email my hubby, but they run their own server.  No electricity no server.

We are off to cooler temperatures to enjoy the long weekend.  It looks like we'll have one busy school year, so I'm going to take full advantage of this respite.  Hope everyone else has a wonderful weekend.  And as the song says, See you in September.

Veronica Hosking
Poetry Editor

Part of That World

“I’m gonna sing really loud, I’m warning you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m the number one Disney fan.  I can beat my daughter at Disney trivia any day.”

I craned my neck around the Number One Disney Fan to look for the daughter in question, but she was not present. This woman was alone at the sing-along matinee of The Little Mermaid. And, despite there being half-a dozen empty seats at the end of our row, Disney Fan sat right next to me, her Ursula the Sea Witch arms rubbing against mine in a creepy, overcrowded Southwest Airlines kind of way.

“We released 3 CDs.”

I looked up from our arm-to-fleshy arm contact, befuddled and not sure how to respond. “Who, Disney?”

“No, my church choir.”

“Oh,” Pause. Was I going to have to chat with her for the entire show? (Turns out, yes.) I was on mission to establish some pre-kindergarten bonding time with my daughter, not to make friends with a crazed Disney maniac.

“CDs of Disney music?” I finally asked.

“No, Christian music.”

“Oh.” Another confused pause. “Okay.”

I had no idea that I would be meeting the Number One Disney Fan when I left the house that day in my jerry-rigged seashell crown. If I had known about my seatmate in advance, I might have tried harder to perfect my mermaid costume so that I might make a good impression on this member of Disney royal fandom.

As it was, I could only perch one hand on my wobbly tiara as I tried hard to ignore Disney Fan’s bellowing of “It’s a Small World After All.” Her voice very nearly overpowered the pre-show organ music that blared through the antique pipes of the Castro Theatre.

The sing-along Little Mermaid film event can best be described as a Rocky Horror Picture Show for kids. At the door, a costumed Ariel and a woman dressed as that fish-hating chef from the movie handed out props for us to wave and crash at various appropriate times during the film. Grace and I came ready to croon along with “Under the Sea” and scream at Prince Erick to kiss the darn girl already. Disney Fan’s presence put a bit of a damper on the camp factor of it all. She was already taking things a little too seriously for my taste.

Trying to avoid further contact with the Disney Fan, I quickly physically rotated my body in the uncomfortably ancient movie seats as soon as the show started. It was time to focus on my daughter.

Then who did I see but Comic Book Guy.

Comic Book Guy runs the comic book store where my fanboy better half makes a weekly pilgrimage to pick up copies of X-Men and Batman and teenage-goth-inspired indie comic books that Jeff snootily refers to as his “graphic novels.”

Comic Book Guy actually looks exactly like the animated Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons, and even has the same physical mannerisms. But he’s also a daddy and he was there with a kid, unlike Disney Fan.

And Comic Book Guy was funny. He threw himself into the singing and onscreen interaction with sarcastic abandon that floated above the kids’ heads, yet amused us adults. At one point he actually yelled “Ha Ha” just like Nelson, another Simpsons character, when Sebastian the crab got duped by Ariel yet again. Another scene showed Prince Erick leaning over the edge of his boat, mooning dreamingly for a true love, not knowing that Ariel perched right below him in the water. “Look below you!” Comic Book Guy hollered at the screen.

Meanwhile Disney Fan’s warning rang true. She certainly sang. Her Ethyl Merman-esque voice rang out over the din of the children’s warbling on every song, chantey, and hum.

Not only did she sing, but she also recited every line. And I mean every line. Verbatim. The only time she stopped reenacting the movie was when she paused to remind me that it was time to comb my hair with a fork or blow bubbles or wave my glowstick in time to the music. I dutifully did as I was told.

All this time, Grace sat wide eyed and silent, the only sound from her mouth being the crunch of popcorn and m&ms. I wondered if she was having any fun. The adults (including me) surrounding my daughter sure had a blast. I yelled and combed my hair with a fork. Comic Book Guy spouted one-liners and Disney Fan screamed out showtunes like a drag queen at the adult version of the show.

Which made me wonder what the evening sing-along would be like. I imagined costumed cross-dressers and lots of sexual innuendos cleverly spouted by a crowd of gay men and sassy ladies. It sounded like fun.

But it was also fun to walk through the Castro that afternoon with my own little queen on my arm. Grace’s spangly mermaid get-up got many well-deserved smiles and oooohs from her street audience. And despite her silence during the film, her giant mermaid grin at the end reminded me why I bought the tickets in the first place. Even if it meant I had to put up with Disney Fan’s freaky choral performance.

--Robin Dutton-Cookston is senior editor at Mom Writer's Literary Magazine, visit her blog at: The Foggiest Idea

School open houses

This week was filled with school open houses and new information to add to our calendars. There was so much new information to share and learn that it could make someone's head spin---Mine was certainly spinning.

I am sure that soon enough this schedule will have a groove to it like last year's, but in the mean time I fill my calendar will information for three schools.  Yes, I am a bit disappointed that if I want to do help at the school this year that I will need to hit all three to make sure that it counts. 

But I am looking forward to the routine of it all---it all starts Tuesday.  So this weekend I plan to soak up the last official days of summer and relax.  I hope you find time to do the same.

Kathy Schlaeger lives in Liberty Township with her husband and three daughters.  For the first time, everyone will be in school this fall including the youngest who will be in preschool for a few hours each day.

Potty Hopping

I've always avoided public restrooms, because usually they're visibly dirty. I'll turn green before I use one, always waiting to get home. I drove through three states while pregnant and didn't use one. I guess the fear stems from an unhealthy over-awareness of germs. Having children has only made this phobia worse. Now that the princess is almost fully potty-trained, she's on a quest to visit all the public restrooms on the East Coast of the United States. As you can imagine, Reader, this is not good for me.

In the fast food restaurant, the princess tells several people on line about her Tinkerbell underpants. They act fascinated. After we eat, she immediately has to use the restroom. I bring her and her two brothers into the Women's Room, having to first convince big brother that it's okay to go in a door marked "Ladies" even though he isn't one.

Once inside, from the corner of my eye, I see myself doing a nervous, crazy dance in the mirror, shouting, "Don't touch the seat! Don't put your mouth on that dirty wall! GET UP OFF THE FLOOR NOW!" I have a toddler in one arm, I'm pulling up the princess's underpants with the other, and holding big brother against the wall with my "mommy glare." When we finally exit the restroom, princess is beaming and I'm exhausted. "That was FUN," she shouts.

We go through the same routine at Barnes & Noble, only this time she has broken the bookstore golden rule. She brings a book in the bathroom. "You read this to me, Mommy?" Princess shoves a paperback in my face as I sit her on the seat that I've meticulously covered with toilet paper. It's titled: Chimpanzee Politics: Power and Sex Among Apes. I put it down on the counter. "Let's save this one for when you're interning with Jane Goodall," I joke. Big brother and the baby laugh hard at my quip that they did not get. The baby drops my cell phone in the toilet just as the princess flushes. Without thinking, I stick my hand in the water to retrieve it. Then my brain realizes where my hand is and I scream. I think, "This is why I had kids, to be challenged."

"Once you become a mother you're the frame, not the picture." -Unknown

Post by Loren Christie

http://lorenelizabethchristie.blogspot.com

The Sunflowers Are Gone

Remember the lovely sunflowers that were about to bloom? I spoke too soon. The day after I posted that, I found one stalk broken off at the base. The day after that, the second one went down. Something WAS chewing away at them. It seems as if they were ants. Huge, black ants.

This is very disheartening. Out of the 10 sunflowers planted, only those two survived. And then, even they didn't make it to bloom. I was really looking forward to those, too. Maybe I'll have better luck next year.

I have drawn up a plan for a flower garden next year. Hopefully, we won't have as many distraction as we have had this year, including weeks-on-end rain.

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Kris Underwood
Writer's Resource Editor
Writing In the Mountains