Godzilla, Linus, and other houseguests

This is me, coming up for a breath of non-vomit-tinged air.  I'm trying to make the most of my fifteen minutes of feeling slightly better than usual, but I'm worried I've jinxed it by trying to do something completely unnecessary, since last night's bout of "morning" [HA!] sickness came immediately AFTER I took the meds that generally help me function the next day.  Grrr.  I should be doing the dishes while I can.  I'm not worried about the laundry that needs folding...somehow, that always manages to disappear on its own.

Anyhoo, here's the newest Alfred dirt (Ethan is going to LOVE this):

Ethan is entering puberty. Saying that someone is "entering" puberty is an understatement along the lines of "Godzilla strolled through Tokyo."  What we need is a verb that somehow manages to convey destruction, mayhem, and emotional desolation.  Actually, the Godzilla analogy is pretty accurate, especially if you're watching an emo version of Godzilla. (Actual dialog:  "Tokyo hates me!  My life sucks!  I'm going to stomp around and throw things until someone tells me I am loved, and I still won't believe them!")

Fortunately, this all started about the time that the school had the annual "Maturation Seminar" to help us idiot parents (phrase borrowed from our loving offspring) remember what it's like to be pre/pubescent.  Personally, I don't remember being so...dramatic, although I'm sure my parents (who had six daughters and a son) lived on a nightmare emotional roller coaster from 1986 until...oh, 2008.  Sorry, Mom and Dad.  At any rate, I always assumed that really great emotional firestorms were monopolized by GIRLS.  I was WRONG.   Thank heavens for the brain development portion of the maturation seminar, wherein we learned that Ethan isn't an ungrateful monster, he's just trying to process information using a misfiring brain whilst under the influence of an uncontrolled flood of hormones.  What a relief.  Now, if we can just survive until his brain starts working again...at which point HE will probably be sitting in a maturation seminar with HIS kid, trying to get him to stop giggling at the pictures.  Smirk.   I'm starting to figure out that 1) my parents have always been freaking geniuses and 2) by the time our kids come to the same realization, I won't care about being right anymore.  I won't have the energy for it.

Speaking of growing up before his parents are ready for it, Jon and I moved Gabriel into a toddler bed.  To be accurate, Jon moved Gabriel into a toddler bed; I mostly sat pathetically in a chair holding pieces more or less in place, moaning, with my tongue lolling out the side of my mouth (really) while Jon cursed bad design and materials.  The end results of this are a nifty sleigh bed of questionable quality that Gabriel loves AND a toddler whacking me on the face at 2:30 AM to crawl into bed with us.  He does this while dragging his blue blanket behind him EXACTLY like Linus does.  Cuteness:  his one survival skill. 

What of Elijah and Jon, you ask?  Mostly they try not to do anything to set Ethan and me off..because let's be realistic...pregnant women are probably about as much fun to be around as teenagers.  They'll both deserve sainthood by August.

Peace. 
(with any luck!)