This morning, as we were getting in the car to go to school, the Oldest Kidlet was excited. “When I grow up, I’m going to be a doctor.” He leaned over towards his brother. “What are you going to be when you grow up?”

“Airplane.”

The car fell quiet for a moment, as I tried to figure out how to explain to my son that you can’t be an airplane.

The Oldest Kidlet laughed kindly. “That’s not how it works. You can’t be a plane, silly.”

“NO. I want to fly planes,” the Little Kidlet said indignantly as I finished buckling him into his seat.

“Then you should have said that!” His brother said as he finished buckling himself in.

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Of course, this development comes with a few new challenges. He can’t fully bend his arm yet (totally normal), has a giant bruise on his arm (also totally normal), and doesn’t understand why he can’t do everything on his “my arm is better list.”

Yesterday, he played for hours and was rewarded with a swollen arm that we had to ice down. We weren’t warned about that, but the internet tells me it’s a normal reaction for over-exertion.

But it does mean that I don’t have to worry about being woken up in the middle of the night when he rolled and hit the wall with his cast. BANG! Seriously. It wasn’t fun. I don’t have to worry about anyone in the family getting smacked by it when he gives us hugs.

I just have to keep an extra eye out on him so that he doesn’t reinjure himself in the next 6 weeks. Considering he kept tripping on his feet yesterday… would anyone think less of me if I wrapped him in bubble wrap for the next 6 weeks?

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Mmm... eegee's

Oddly enough, I was fine unplugging for the weekend. It gave me a chance to read and to catch up with my grandmother. (By the way, buy Jenny Lawson’s book (aka The Bloggess). I laughed so hard I was a crying, snorting mess. Which in turn made my family laugh.)

But my grandmother was very upset. All the work that needed to be done had started a couple weeks prior when she needed to get the roof replaced, which led to discovering that wiring needed to be replaced (it is an old house), and everything just seemed to keep snowballing.

Without saying anything else, my mom and I set about trying to take care of things. We called an HVAC man to come out and turn on the evaporative cooler, which hadn’t been turned on yet for the summer because of the roof repairs. I fussed with the router and the modem before I realized that the modem wasn’t registering a connection, so I set up a service appointment for Sunday. My mom called the electrician out to figure out what was tripping the circuit breakers (which she couldn’t get to, because it looked as though the box was locked).

The very nice electrician came right out and pointed out that the locked side was the city’s, but that the otherside was tricky to open. You had to push up a latch on the bottom while pulling the door down to unlock it. My mom got the hang of it, and we were back in business. (The culprit? The electric water heater, which should have been given its own breaker when it was installed, but wasn’t)

Well, after the HVAC guy came while it was dark to set up the cooler (it was already breaking 100 outside and the house was well over 90 degrees. Not what you want for your mother/grandmother), the circuit tripped again. My mom walked outside and POW. That’s what I heard, followed by her shouting “OW.”

As it turned out, she had shocked herself. So we called out the electrician, who gladly came out without charging us because that was dangerous. It would seem that they’d moved the circuit breaker directly under the opening for the downspout from the gutters- which nobody had noticed when they were moving it, and nobody thought about what would happen when the cooler was started. So water dripped out of the opening and created a puddle underneath the breaker box (and cable box).

The next morning (aka Mother’s Day), my mom headed out bright and early to get the pieces to make an actual downspout that would divert around the boxes. And the power kept going out.

Which led to Whitney vs the Circuit Breaker. I pushed the lever like I was supposed to, and tried to pull the door down. But nothing happened and my hand kept sliding down. After fifteen minutes, I went and washed off my hands to get the sweat off of it and gave it another go. That did the trick and it opened.

We got a phone call from the cable company, saying that the tech could come right away. He showed up while my mom was building her downspout, and went around the house. We aren’t sure when, but someone cut the cable line into the room where the computer was. So he put in a new wire, and we had just enough time to get ready for brunch.

We went to a restaurant called Pastiche, which I was informed is well known for its wine and desserts. The food was excellent, though I did have something that had a bit of dairy in it- I admit I was too timid to ask if I could get it without (and the sauce was wonderful). It was breaded sea bass, in a champagne cream sauce with capers. Served with white rice and seasoned vegetables.

The funny thing about the trip is that if you read all of handymen that came in and out of the house, you’d think that it was frustrating. On the contrary. It was relaxing. I slept pretty soundly and ate well. We sat and watched TV while the handymen worked, and joked and laughed.

I even got a pair of fairy wings (that I have to repair- the elastic that keeps it on snapped)! I got to see my aunt and one of my cousins! It was a trip that recharged me completely.

Though there was one sad takeaway from the trip- seeing my grandmother so overwhelmed by the work on the house. If I could, I wish I could be there regularly so that I could handle it for her, keeping up to date on who has fixed what so that I can remind her of what they’re working on- and simplify some of the jargon so that it doesn’t completely overwhelm her.

The trip home was nice. Flights from Arizona to LAX usually are bouncy- there’s something about the air over the desert. We each had vouchers for free drinks, so we celebrated as we did a crossword puzzle together (I’d managed to wear down every device I brought with me).

In the airport, I sent a text to TheBoy to tell him we’d landed and I got a baffling reply: The board concurs. We wondered if a weekend with the boys had driven him insane, but it all made sense when we turned towards the luggage carousel to get the box my mom had checked. There were my dad and my husband, waiting for us.

Pulling in front of our house, I could see two little pink signs hanging off the house. Two little boys flying out the front door. The Oldest Kidlet nearly tackled me, and the Little Kidlet gave me such a tight hug I thought I might pass out.

Just like that, I was home. Not a bit sad at all- ready to face the week and get back into my regular routines.

Here’s last Mother’s Day’s post, if you were curious: Food and Family. My Mom and Me.

Just in case anyone did think this- there are plenty of family members helping my grandma. My mom and I pitched in because we were there. Obviously, I can’t speak to what they do since I’m not there- so this just covers the weekend.

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But Monday… oh Monday was different.

I don’t like driving to the Little Kidlet’s school. It’s in a very nice neighborhood, and for all the nice homes, there are some of the worst drivers there I’ve ever seen. Half the people who live there don’t seem to understand how four-way stops work. I’ve seen people blow through a four-way stop after the car ahead of them had their turn. I’ve seen people stop for a beat and go whether or not it was their turn. No, not all of them were on phones.

Today took the cake.

After sitting in traffic, I pulled off at the exit and started on my way, looking at a long line of cars coming from the opposite direction. Nothing new, especially with the freeway backed up in both directions. I drove on, and slowed as I realized I saw smoke and sparking on their side of the street.

I was driving under a live downed wire. The power line went across the street, swooping from a tall power pole to a lower one. The lane I was in was closest to the tall power line, and my van had no problems clearing it. I drove up a little bit, pulled over to the side and called 911 to report the downed line. And watched, in complete shock as people actually drove over the power line in order to get to their freeway on ramp.

Talk about literally watching people play roulette with their lives. If that line managed to jump at all and make contact with anything other than the tires on the car… yikes.

Once the dispatcher said they were sending the fire department, I went on my way. There’s a fire department just up the street from the Little Kidlet’s school. They’d be there in three minutes at the most.

And indeed, as we were driving up the winding road to his school, the fire engine and paramedic truck flew by us.

I’m not sure that there’s much of a lesson in this other than the obvious. If you see a downed powerline, do not go near it. Had I noticed it, I would have made an illegal u-turn and gone the long way to the school (after reporting it). It’s just not worth it.

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They claim it’s satire, but there is legitimately no reason to create a satirical guide to the Avengers.

I say this as a card carrying geek. I know who the Avengers are, even though I admit that my real comic book knowledge is with the DC Universe. I’m the one who had to explain who the Avengers were to friends and family members.

But back to the piece.

As your boyfriend probably told you, “The Avengers” is hitting theaters this Friday. And you, dutiful girlfriend, are attending. But you hate action movies and you’ve never even read a comic book. (Of course, that’s not a slight against the girls who actually do read comic books — i.e. real fans, actual people with varied interests — but for this, let’s just go with the stock view of ladies, ladies!)

So here’s a particularly painful paragraph. It implies that normal women dislike action movies… a sentiment that bothered me when Dr Pepper tried it for their low calorie drink. It also implies that fans of rom-coms don’t have varied interests.

The piece goes on to introduce everyone, and even to helpfully give the idiotic woman this piece is addressing helpful advice about what not to say.

All this piece did was reinforce age old notions. Frankly, satire would have been creating the Geek Girl Guide to Introducing The Avengers to Guys Who Don’t Read Comic Books. Turn the idea inside out and make a statement that way.

Moviefone changed the title and added the clarification that it was meant to be satire. Honestly, with a wealth of well-written satire out there… this wasn’t satire. It was a piece that was probably intended to be tongue in cheek and missed every single mark. But kudos to joining the wealth of sites that apologize for upsetting people by saying the piece was supposed to be satire.

Reading it made me rage for all the obvious reasons. It’s bad enough that movie industries assume that only men enjoy action movies and comic books. It’s worse when real people write pieces that reinforce every stupid “rule” that the industry believes- that women only enjoy romantic comedies and have to be dragged to action movies to make their significant others happy. That the only take-away from a comic book movie is that the men are hot.

Amy Radcliffe (@amy_geek) wrote this excellent piece. A lot of the wonderful geek gals I follow similarly raged. (Update: GeekGirlDiva wrote a great open letter that points out that this is link bait at its’ finest)

To anyone who cares – pretty much everyone is tired of your insistence that all people fit in molds. That geeks are unwashed socially awkward men. That women only enjoy romantic comedies and believe that men are there to lavish them with gifts. People are different. Stop marketing to the sexes and market to interests..

And to any journalists out there- find out what satire is before using it as a defense.

So yes. WHITNEY SMASH.

For what it’s worth, I am not hulking out simply because it’s the Avengers. I have a tendency to do that whenever I get really mad.

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Back when I first had my DVR, I used to see it all the time with Grey’s Anatomy. It was one of ABC’s highest rated shows, so they would have it run a teeny bit long.

Last night, because Mad Men was scheduled to run four minutes over, my DVR didn’t record Once Upon a Time.

So why do networks do this? Advertising is the most important part of television. Television ratings aren’t to show how popular a show is, it’s to tell advertising agencies what shows attract the demographics they want- including the prized 18-35 male demo.

So networks try to boost their figures any way that they can. That includes taking a popular show and have it run a little long. Ratings report how many people watched the beginning of the show, which reports at the half hour and hour, not when the show actually starts airing. So if Mad Men is 1 hour and 4 minutes long instead of an hour, those four minutes go a long way to making whatever aired after it look positively stellar.

But it screws up DVR schedules- and I live for my DVR. It’s the only way that I can relatively keep up with my favorite TV shows and write.

Honestly, TV networks, I’m on to you. I expect that shows like American Idol will run over now and then- they’re live. But when I see networks regularly try to inflate their ratings… it makes me less likely to watch the show live and to watch other shows on their networks.

Am I the only one bothered by this? Or are there others with this First World Problem?

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First, this week flew by. I’ve had a lot of my to-do list, and unfortunately blogging fell to the wayside a bit. I’m not complaining about it being the weekend already, but it feels as though we skipped a day.

But the hourglass thing. You know how in movies or TV shows, villains would pull out the giant sandglass to tell the captive hero/heroine how much longer they had to live? Or in Jafar’s case, he’d put the heroine inside the hourglass.

I’m not going to lie. I was looking for a picture of Jasmine in the hourglass, but this one made me laugh enough that I couldn’t resist using it.

Right. I was going on a tangent, wasn’t I? This week has felt a bit like those moments in movies. I’ve been watching the sand run through the glass, knowing that when it ran out- things weren’t going to be the same. I’m referring to the Kickstarter for Imagination Situation, which unfortunately didn’t succeed. While watching it tick down felt horrible- we were already working on our plan B. I won’t lie, it was a tough reality check.

However, I know that we’re going to come through this. Roby (the creator/writer/director) and I believe too much in the show to let it die.

I want to thank everyone for their patience while I plugged away at the IS. Now that this is over, I’m going to work even harder to make sure that I have a regular blogging schedule both here and over at Imagination Situation. One of the other things I’ve realized is that as much as I need to schedule time for my novels, I need to schedule time for this. It’s all a big part of who I am.

It also showed me that I can tackle something big, new and scary. I might fail, but I’m still there. Still hungry, still wanting to learn and grow. That was huge for me.

Turning this around a bit- have you had any hourglass moments? Or a Phoenix from the ashes type moment? Or a Sith Lord coming back from craziness to get some robot legs moment? Sorry about the last one. I was rewatching Darth Maul’s return on The Clone Wars.

Anyways. Tell me about you.

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American Whitney was fun (especially if you’re a fan of The Guess Who or Lenny Kravitz), but I figured I’d find something that explained just who I am in three words.

Geek. Pirate. Mom. That’s me.

The look of the blog will be changing over the next week- but I thought I’d share the new name now.

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In this case, the Little Kidlet started to throw them in the air. “It’s snowing!” After a few times, it turned into, “I’m making it snow..”

I’m sure you see where I’m going with this, right?

All of a sudden it turned into “I’m making it rain!”

TheBoy looked at me.

“I swear. I did not teach him that.”

He just smiled and looked back at my son. “You’re making it rain up in here?”

Then he and I started laughing, and my son went back to making a mess, completely oblivious.

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At any rate, the Oldest Kidlet has a new game that he likes to play. He’ll walks around with a shoebox and a notebook. “Excuse me. Do I have a [insert name here] here? I have a package for them.” Then he makes you sign for your package and verify that there’s something inside (it’s so he can take the box).

Then he fills the box again. “Off to make my next delivery!”

How serious is he about this? He stared at my signature once and said, “I don’t think that says Whitney.”

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