Never Ask…

“What else could happen?”

I should know this by now. Yesterday, the children were at their father’s cousins’ home. Someone thought it was a brilliant idea to allow the middle child (6 years old) to sit ON TOP OF the billiard table while the “bookends” jumped from sofa to table and back again. Unlike her siblings, the middle child is EXTREMELY cautious and obeys “the rules” to the letter of the law. So one wouldn’t think that *she* would be the one to get hurt.

No one knows quite how it happened, but she fell off the billiard table and smacked her head on the marble tile floor. With the headache, dizziness and glassy eyes, we took her to the ER to get checked out. This hospital was different from the one I was at, but also excellent. We were triaged into the ER in UNDER 1 minute and were taken to CT within FIVE minutes of our arrival. They ran the CT and had us back in the ER in under 15 minutes. Everyone was extremely kind and gracious and EFFICIENT.

Total cost of the ER visit: 128.000.000 Rupiah (+/- $130 USD)
Having a 100% OK kiddo at the end of it all: Priceless!

Now let me just say in parting that the ER bill when broken down looked something like this:
100.000.000rupiah – CT scan
27.580rupiah – CT film
270.000rupiah – ER cost including doctor, administration, etc.

If we were back in the states, the ER copay alone would have been $150 and the total bill would have been in the thousands of dollars.

To put it in a little local perspective, the minimum wage here is 120.000.000 rupiah/month, so an ER visit for a local person making minimum wage would be a hard bill to pay. But I can GAURANTEE you that an ER visit at our local hospital back home wouldn’t cost $1300 (Florida min. wage is $7.5/hr, X40 hours, X52/12 to get monthly wage) total out the door cash price. Multiply it by 10 or 20 and you’d be close to the actual “cash price” of a “simple” ER visit. A Jakarta local could possible scrape together an ER visit cost, but I don’t know anyone who can scrape together $13000+ for an ER visit.

Now if you’ve got decent insurance in the States, you don’t have to come up with the “cash price”. You pay your copay, meet your deductible etc and you’re good. But what happens if you DON’T have insurance for whatever reason? Then what? I try to stay pretty apolitical here, but the differences in medical care and cost between the States and here are pretty striking. Something’s got to give. I don’t have the answers and even if I did, no one is asking me for them.

One more thing, health insurance isn’t available to everyone here. For most workers, they alone are covered by their employer thusly: they get sick, employer pays the bills for THEM ONLY. They have to pay out of pocket for their dependents. Or, if you work for an employer that offers health insurance, if you’re male, you are covered and your dependents if your wife doesn’t work. If you’re a woman, your insurance only covers YOU. Unless you’re a single mother in which case it covers you AND your dependents. This is to prevent “double dipping”. It looks bizarre from the outside, but I think it’s one thing that possibly helps control health care costs.

We All Shine On...

Instant Karma's gonna get you... Or why you never ever laugh at your childrens' first attempt at ice skating lessons.

Because after the lesson when the little cherubs want to "practice" some more, you get on the ice with them and "help" them, only to have one of them pull down onto the ice so hard you get an EPIC bruise on your unmentionables. Luckily, nothing is ~broken~ and the next day you have an appointment with a sports therapy doctor who hooks you up with three sets of meds to ease the discomfort.

So we all shine on... Like the moons and the stars and the sun...

Pantai Indah Kapuk

Or more literally "Beautiful Kapuk Beach". Which is ironic considering that the beaches of Jakarta are - to quote the family - NASTY and SMELLY. However since we're not referring to the ~actual~ beach, but rather the grandiose (think Jan Crouch on crack) Mediterranean-inspired complex that includes a well-known golf course, Waterbom Jakarta water park, town houses that are incredibly gorgeous on the outside but - according to family - pretty ordinary on the inside and mahal* to boot and the Clubhouse Acasia where the kids are taking their swimming lessons this summer.

One month family membership to PIKFit: 670.000Rp. ($67+/-USD)

EIGHT Private swimming lessons with English-speaking teacher for three kids: 560.000Rp x 3 ($56USD x 3)

Seeing your oldest child learn to swim on the first lesson: PRICELESS

*Mahal: Expensive

My baby girl is growing up...

And I'm just beside myself with how *adorable* she is...

The outfit is an exact replica of the Singapore Airlines stewardess uniform. You can't see the sandals, but she even has those, too. Wiki Article

I'd love for her to be able to be an SIA Stewardess. She might be the first American to ever become one. We just have to work on her Indonesian and Chinese.

Isn't she adorable in her cap and gown?

Out of the mouths of babes...

Err... First Graders...

I don't blame her. I wouldn't want to either!

Gong Xi Fat Cai!

Happy Chinese New Year... A little early.

You may be asking yourself "Why is she posting about Chinese New Year when we haven't got through Advent, Hanukah or Christmas yet? Does she even I celebrate all of those?"

The short answer to the former is "sheer consumerism". The latter is more complicated.

Look, if "they" can put out Christmas the day after Halloween and have it all marked on clearance the day before Thanksgiving, then why can't I pimp out advertise the Chen Emporium? That's right, Crazy Mama Chen has FINALLY opened the doors to the CafePress shop known as Chenporium.

So if you need any cute stuff for 4707 (2009), get it now! Oscar the Spokes-Ox will be departing after the Spring Festival is over.

As for celebrating multi-culturally? Well, we celebrate Advent and Christmas. We're learning about Hanukkah because the kids are BFFs with my parents' neighbors. Neighbor guy is Jewish and while hanging Christmas lights on his house, he says to my dad "Jesus saves, Moses invests". Neighbor guy and wife are cool folks. The girls adore them and want to go hang out with them All The Time. Of course, the oldest was really confused when she found out that Neighbor Guy didn't celebrate Christmas. And middle child said "He's Jewess?" which totally cracked me up. Apparently, she hasn't quite figured out the -ish sound yet. Of course, I'm not entirely surprised. The color yellow was "lellow" until she turned four. So this year, we're celebrating or honoring a variety of religious holidays. Don't tell the neighbors that the girls are handpainting a menorah for them. It'll be our secret.

They Don't Make 'Em Like They Used To

Or a rant on Why I Hate Modern Patterns.

Let me preface this posting by saying that I am NOT a n00b. I'm actually a decent seamstress and would call myself intermediate/advanced. Now that I've established my creds, here goes:

Modern patterns (a veritable snore of the devil) are NOT made with the same attention to detail, quality and general re-usability of patterns a mere 20 years old. Yep. Whoda thunk I was praising the 80s?

Going back further, patterns from the 1970s - especially childrens' patterns - are superb. If not for fashion sensibility, at LEAST for the fact that once a pattern was cut, you could use it again and again. Why? Because the paper was a MUCH better grade of paper. Thicker and easier to refold. Has anyone tried to refold what passes for patterns these days? Trust me, you don't want to try. All you will get is M.A.D. Or be left with little shreds of paper where it refused to cooperate. Or both.

My favorite patterns are those that range from the early 1940s (how I love printed patterns) to the 70s. Why? Because they came in ONE SIZE. Not FIVE. Multi-size patterns are yet another snore of the devil and the bane of my existence <--- which I've spelled three times and figure "e" in the middle looks better. Especially CHILDRENS' multi-size patterns. Help me boab! When you have five sizes ranging from 1/2 (yes ONE HALF) to 4, it's quite obvious that the cutting lines are going to be ridiculously close together. And don't try actually cutting out the notches. So HERE is the offender:

It looks deceptively simple. There's a mere 21 pieces to the pattern. Yes, you read that correctly TWENTY ONE pieces for standard pajamas.

You could scoff and say "just transfer the pattern to paper and THEN cut it out". And I'd tell you BTDT ThankYouVeryMuch. That was just as much a PITA as doing it the "normal" way. So now, I'm back to the cutting table to finish New Year's Resolution 7.128: DO SOMETHING ABOUT ALL THAT FABRIC THAT IS SITTING IDLE IN YOUR STASH. AKA: Just make the darn outfits before your kids outgrow them.

Christmas Comes This Time Each Year

Time for pictures, time for cheer. And it's a darn good thing it only comes ONCE. Because the annual foray to acquire a suitable formal picture of the children is a nerve-wracking and harrowing experience. And not just for the poor photographers. Who deserve a patron saint of their own, really, for all they do. It only took a mere 62 pictures to achieve a few decent poses. Which is roughly 20.666666666666666666666666666667 poses per child. Give or take a decimal point or so.

While we were there, a family with 10 people in nicely matching outfits - girls wearing one thing and guys another - came in. How you get TEN people to all smile at the same time is beyond my comprehension when with only THREE little people it practically takes an act of congress.

See what I mean?

Say *Cheese*, not CHEESY!!!

My what lovely teeth you have there. Now can you please keep them inside?



The bathroom is around the corner and down the hall. Can't you hold it?



Gotta run, kthxbai!



I canNOT believe you are making those faces in an attempt to make me smile. That's so childish!

That's all folks!

Actually, we got some really GREAT shots - those were just the bloopers. Here's the whole gang and some selected individual poses:

For those of you lucky souls who get the newsletter via regular mail, you're entitled to one picture of my choosing from this lot. Enjoy!

I am Mommy, hear me roar!

I've been sick with a cold for a week or so. I have coughed so hard that I feel like I'm hacking up a lung. I should change my nickname to Typhoid Mary because it's so bad.

So all that said, the following events could be construed as the proverbial straw that proverbially broke the proverbial camel's proverbial back.

I woke up late. I knew that it had to be around 10:30 because the grating sounds of "Elmo's World" were issuing forth from the living room. In Dolby 5.1 surround no less. Elmo is bad enough in stereo, trust me. Surround sound just makes it worse.

I would have been up on time (whatever that means) except that I'd passed out on the sofa the night before - due to feeling like crap (decidedly UnScottish). I was woken from my sickly stupor at 2AM by the Prince Consort to remind me that the Sweet Potatoes for his work potluck today were not made. Nothing beats being woken up in the middle of a dream where you are playing Tetris to be told to haul ass to the kitchen at 2AM. The Sweet Potatoes were fixed and plopped in the oven on time bake but I'm paranoid, so I stayed up babysitting them until they were done and I could turn off the oven. 3:30AM saw me trying to squeeze into my bed and balance my rear on the edge while the Younger Princess Ella - all 26.5 pounds of her - took up my half of the bed.

After rolling out of bed to find the living room looked like an explosion of bedding, towels, clothing and toys (!) and the living room chairs were knocked sideways... I went to fix the girls breakfast only to find that they had helped themselves to SEVEN blueberry muffins. They didn't even share with their brother. I gave the boy one and called that breakfast. I horked a muffin and called that breakfast, too.

About this time, the brass band in my head starts to go off like rockets, so I hid out in the office and snarfed a Diet Mountain Dew. I must've been channelling PollyAnna to think that the Tornadic Trio (upgraded from The Disastrous Duo, upgraded from La Niña) weren't going to do what they do best - destroy the house.

[shakes head in dismay] How naïve of me. Really.

And while I'm being unabashedly honest, let me state for the record that I'm more than a little put out that every time I try to fix them a meal, they stare at it and say they are full even though they were starving less than 10 minutes before. I want to know what Magical Cookie House they are eating from. I put off feeding them lunch because I figured they weren't going to eat it anyway what with all the muffins and egg nog and what all they already got into.

Today's tragedy was BABY POWDER all over the floor. It was worse than the Great Baby Powder Fiasco of 2004 by an order of magnitude. It was not quiet so bad as the Great Baby Oil Adventure of 2004, though. Guess why? It involves cats and slugs. Oh yes, and the almost 6 year old - you read that right - peed on the floor. Because the bathroom that is unlocked and ten steps away was TOO FAR. Yes. Too far. I unplugged the antenna from their TV and removed it. All they get is snow. Which isn't bad considering it's the only snow they'll ever see in Florida.

Lest you think I'm a bad mom, I'm not. I give my kids chocolate cake for breakfast on occasion. And I give them eggs for dinner. Who doesn't? So I boxed up all the toys because I was tired of stepping on them. So what?! You'd do the same thing, too. I know a LOT of you have. But I'm not telling.

So I did what any mom would do - call HER mother. And vent. And for once, I was able to hear what she was saying. I even took notes. That's right. Notes. On a steno pad. SRSLY. She gave me some advice that I was just desperate enough to use. And for once, her advice worked.

But don't tell her that. She might get a big head or something. Like say "I told you so". [horrors]

My children now live by the timer. Every activity is now governed by the All Mighty, All Powerful Timer known as "Da Man". There little lives belong to me. My name is Mommy, but you can call me Drill Seargent. Shortly after getting off the phone with mom, martial law was instituted. The new rules go like this:

• You will sit down at the table and you will not move from your seat until you have finished eating.
• You WILL eat everything on your plate including the crusts on your sandwiches.
• You will eat in the allotted time and anything you do not finish before the timer rings goes in the trash and you will not get more food/drink until the next time it is served to you.
• Children do NOT go into the refrigerator for anything for any reason ever again at all. OR ELSE.
• Once you have finished eating you will go to the bathroom, you will pee and/or poop and you will wash your hands and brush your teeth.
• You will then procede to your beds where you WILL lie down quietly and you WILL sleep until I summon you.

As of this moment, the children have done all the above and have been sleeping since 3PM. I can expect them to sleep at least another 45 minutes to an hour and a half. Life is Good. Very GOOD.

The new schedule looks like this (and woe to any child who strays from the path of righteousness):

8:00 AM - Breakfast, brush teeth, potty
8:30AM - Make beds, get dressed, hair done
9:00 AM - Read/play QUIETLY
9:30 AM -
10:00 AM - Snack, potty
10:30 AM -
11:00 AM - Snack, potty
11:30 AM -
Noon - Lunch
12:30 PM - Brush teeth, potty
1:00 PM - Play time
1:30 PM - Nap time
3:30 PM - Snack, potty
4:00 PM - Computer Time
4:30 PM - Get ready
for evening activities
5:00 PM - Evening Activities such as dance, religious ed, etc
6:00 PM - Get ready for dinner
6:30 PM - Dinner
7:00 PM - Bath
7:30 PM - Quiet Time
8:00 PM - Bed Time

So this leaves time for things like schooling. And very little time for mischief. Or for me to hide out in the office. We'll see how it works. At the very least it should get me through until the end of December.

The Best Thing About Homeschooling

You want to know what the best thing about homeschooling is?

The fact that when Mama doesn't feel up to numerous iterations of workbooks and educational videos, she can just give the kids some paper dressed up as a "book" and let them have at it and it COUNTS! It's educational, I promise. I gave them a "project": Write a story and illustrate it. I think we're covering art, grammar, spelling, punctuation and creative writing as well as the all important "leave Mama alone so she can blog about you deal with her overreactive gallbladder" subject.

Here are the books BEFORE the Princesses Ella got hold of them:

The Younger Princess Ella is the one in the pink Sleeping Beauty Nightgown

You should only know how long it took me to FIND this picture once I uploaded it from my camera to my hard drive. Why it got sent to my VIDEO folder, I've no idea. Anyhow...

What I did to make the books:

• Find card stock in pile on desk.
• Let girls choose their own color from about 20 choices (the Elder choose purple, the Younger chose the pink)
• Grab handful of printer paper (there's a reason I buy this stuff at the warehouse store)
• Stack all paper together and cut roughly in half on the long side of the paper (exactly half would have been 5.5" but who's counting?)
• Find 3-hole punch and arrange puncher thingies so that it punches 3 holes down the "long" side of the paper
• String 3/8" wide grosgrain ribbon to make book
• Field exactly 3,874,089,152 questions about what the books are and are not
• Take picture and hide in office to blog about it while the girls knock themselves out creatively

Life is good. Except for my mother-frelling gallbladder which makes me irritable and tired and nauseated. It's days are numbered. Poor my kids. Little do they know that once Mama is done recuperating, their days of watching PBS all day in their PJs and eating Scooby Snakcs for breakfast are O-V-E-R. But I'm not telling them that. Let them have their little fun.

The Uterus as described by The Elder Princess Ella

My daughters are quite prolific when it comes to drawing and now to writing "stories". Especially about things they have recently seen or heard. So it should come as no surprise to me that after watching a PBS show on babies in utero, that the Elder Princess Ella would want to draw a picture of a uterus and then wax poetical about it. After all, she's not quite six. Below is the picture she drew and her commentary [verbatim] on it:

This is the uterus.
The lines are the insides of the uterus.
The food is important for it.

[commentary by the Younger Princess Ella: Food doesn't go in the uterus, it goes in the tummy]

This picture has the brocolli [top of picture - outside uterus - looks like a bizarro carrot] to take good care of the uterus.
It scrubs the insides.
The inner cord protects it.
When the baby is in there when it moes it's legs back and forth then the uterus grows.
When the babies come out the uterus will shrink back to it's normal size.
The middle core and the outer core help make the uterus stay together.
When they [baby] grow big, it's time to come out.
That's all.

The second picture is a sign made yesterday in the throes of "touching" angst and a sever desire NOT to leave the house to go to lunch at the Crapper Cracker Barrel (which I blogged about yesterday). Apparently, the Younger Princess Ella was impinging on the personal space of the The Elder and so she needed to make a sign. Translation below picture.


No sisters touching sisters and nobody is going nowhere

The third, and final picture is from today and details what the girls will be doing on Sunday evening (the night before my pre-op for gallbladder surgery). I would like you to note the correct use of apostrophe in this picture. Mama is teaching her children well. Translation follows picture:


Sunday night we spend the night at GrandCharlie's [my mother] house. Gabriella and Anabella

Baby Loves Jazz

And so does mommy! This disc is probably my favorite children's music disc of all time. I've spent a small fortune on music to broaden my kids horizons - Tom Jones to Barry Manilow and Abba to Shakira. You name it, we've got it. But this one is a particular favorite of mine.

I picked this up at the local Whole Fools Market this past Saturday (gotta love those impulse buys). The baby digs it so much it's awesome. He loves "Happy And You Know It" (track two). It's got this way awesome West Coast Swing rhythm and he claps along with it. As the saying goes "It's got a beat and I can dance to it!".

I think most anyone would love this. Let me be plain, it blows Baby Einstein CDs out of the water as far as listen-ability. First, it's REAL instruments not synthesized ones. Second, it's children's music done to adult rhythms (although I'd posit that Jazz transcends age barriers). This stuff SWINGS. I've counted West Coast Swing, Balboa, Lindy and Collegiate Shag (IIRC) among the rhythms. As a dancer, this thrills me to pieces.

A+ from the kids and 5 dance steps from me.

Household Principles for Children

I ran across this somewhere on the web before I ever had kids and thought it was funny. I had no idea that it was TRUE. I never imagined that I would be saying anything remotely like these to my own kids, but there you go... I WISH I could lay claim to this one as my very own, so, while it's not mine, I think it is a worthwhile (and amusing) read:

Household Principles for Children
Based on the Old Testament
(Lamentations of a Father)
by Ian Frazier

Laws of Forbidden Places:

• Of the beasts of the field, and of the fishes of the sea, and of all foods that are acceptable in my sight you may eat, but not in the living room.
  
  
• Of the hoofed animals, broiled or ground into burgers, you may eat, but not in the living room.
  
  
• Of the cloven-hoofed animal, plain or with cheese, you may eat, but not in the living room.
  
  
• Of the cereal grains, of the corn and of the wheat and of the oats, and of all the cereals that are of bright color and unknown provenance you may eat, but not in the living room.
  
  
• Of quiescently frozen dessert and of all frozen after-meal treats you may eat, but absolutely not in the living room.
  
  
• Of the juices and other beverages, yes, even of those in sippy-cups, you may drink, but not in the living room, neither may you carry such therein.
  
  
• Indeed, when you reach the place where the living room carpet begins, of any food or beverage there you may not eat, neither may you drink.
  
  
• But if you are sick and are lying down and watching something, then may you eat in the living room.

Laws When at the Table:

• And if you are seated in your high chair, or in a chair such as a greater person might use, keep your legs and feet below you as they were.
  
  
• Neither raise up your knees nor place your feet upon the table, for that is an abomination to me.
  
  
• Yes, even when you have an interesting bandage to show, your feet upon the table are an abomination and worthy of rebuke.
  
  
• Drink your milk as it is given you, neither use on it any utensils, nor fork, nor knife, nor spoon for that is not what they are for; if you will dip your blocks in the milk and lick it off, you will be sent away.
  
  
• When you have drunk, let the empty cup then remain upon the table and do not bite it upon its edge and by your teeth hold it to your face in order to make noises in it sounding like a duck: for you will be sent away.
  
  
• When you chew your food, keep your mouth closed until you have swallowed, and do not open it to show your brother or your sister what is within; I say to you, do not so, even if your brother or your sister has done the same to you.
  
  
• Eat your food only; do not eat that which is not food; neither seize the table between your jaws, nor use the raiment of the table to wipe your lips.
  
• I say again to you, do not touch it, but leave it as it is.
  
  
• And though your stick of carrot does indeed resemble a marker, draw not with it upon the table even in pretend for we do not do that. That is why.
  
  
• And though the pieces of broccoli are very like small trees, do not stand them upright to make a forest because we do not do that. That is why.
  
  
• Sit just as I have told you and do not lean to one side or the other, nor slide down until you are nearly slid away. Heed me for if you sit like that your hair will go into the syrup. And now behold, even as I have said, it has come to pass.

Laws Pertaining to Dessert:

• For we judge between the plate that is unclean and the plate that is clean, saying first: if the plate is clean, then you shall have dessert.
  
  
• But of the unclean plate the laws are these: If you have eaten most of your meat and two bites of your peas with each bite consisting of not less than three peas each or in total six peas eaten where I can see and you have also eaten enough of your potatoes to fill two forks, both forkfuls eaten where I can see, then you shall have dessert.
  
  
• But if you eat a lesser number of peas and yet you eat the potatoes, still you shall not have dessert; and if you eat the peas yet leave the potatoes uneaten, you shall not have dessert, no, not even a small portion thereof.
  
  
• And if you try to deceive by moving the potatoes or peas around with a fork, that it may appear you have eaten what you have not, you will fall into iniquity and I will know and you shall have no dessert.

On Screaming:

• Do not scream; for it is as if you scream all the time. If you are given a plate on which two foods you do not wish to touch each other are touching each other, your voice rises up even to the ceiling, while you point to the offense with the finger of your right hand; but I say to you, scream not, only remonstrate gently with the server, that the server may correct the fault.
  
  
• Likewise if you receive a portion of fish from which every piece of herbal seasoning has not been scraped off, and the herbal seasoning is loathsome to you and steeped in vileness, again I say, refrain from screaming.
  
  
• Though the vileness overwhelm you and cause you a faint unto death, make not that sound from within your throat, neither cover your face, nor press your fingers to your nose. For even I have made the fish as it should be; behold, I eat it myself, yet do not die.

Concerning Face and Hands:

• Cast your countenance upward to the light and lift your eyes to the hills, that I may more easily wash you off. For the stains are upon you; even to the very back of your head, there is rice thereon. And in the breast pocket of your garment, and upon the tie of your shoe, rice and other fragments are distributed in a manner wonderful to see.
  
  
• Only hold yourself still; hold still, I say. Give each finger in its turn for my examination thereof, and also each thumb. Lo, how iniquitous they appear.
  
  
• What I do is as it must be; and you shall not go hence until I have done.

Various Other Laws, Statutes, and Ordinances:

• Bite not, lest you be cast into quiet time.
  
  
• Neither drink of your own bath water, nor of the bath water of any kind; nor rub your feet on bread, even if it be in the package; nor rub yourself against cars, not against any building; nor eat sand.
  
  
• Leave the cat alone, for what has the cat done, that you should so afflict it with tape?
  
  
• And hum not the humming in your nose as I read, nor stand between the light and the book. Indeed, you will drive me to madness.
  
  
• Nor forget what I said about the tape
  

Murphy's Law

Is alive and well. Remember what I said about the puke carseat cover? Well, here's the 411, since I know you all are DYING to hear the adventures of the Barf-O-Matic 3000 (aka The Younger Princess Ella).

Since today wasn't the 1st Saturday of the Month (aka Jason-is-teaching-Kickboxing-class-today-day) and it isn't May yet (aka I-teach-ballroom-dancing-at-our-local-YMCA-on-Saturdays-starting-in-May), we decided to make a day of it and have Dim Sum down in our local Chinatown. One thing we can always count on is that the kids eat GOOD at Dim Sum. So many choices and everyone gets their favorites. After Dim Sum, I wanted Boba from our local Lollicup store. The Younger Princess Ella decided to share with me since no one else wanted any (a rare occurrence). So I procured a large Thai Milk Tea with Boba and brought it back to the car.

Earlier in the week, I'd had business in that part of town and meant to stop by this store. So, I convinced my husband to pull in and let me run in to see if I could jog my memory as to what I needed there. That proved to be an exercise in futility and so I returned to the car in under 5 minutes. In that short amount of time, The Younger Princess Ella had polished off about 2/3 of the Boba and was looking rather green. I barely had time to utter the words "You aren't going to throw up are you?" before, you guessed it, a flood of regurgitate Boba drink and Dim Sum spewed forth. So we pulled around the block, parked the car, de-pukified the back seat, the child, the carseat and ME and we went on our merry way. We're pros at this since she's done it before after Dim Sum and Boba.

Now you might think that this would be the end of our troubles... We were tooling down the highway in the left lane, kids are resting and I'm reading the autobiography of Apolo Anton Ohno (now available at my local Dollar Tree for a whopping buck) when all of the sudden...

That's right...

CAR TROUBLE! The car jerks like the tranny is slipping and the engine light comes on and bells start to ding. We get off the highway and onto the shoulder and turn the car off thinking that it's the oil thingy. I recently had an oil change at the local Mobil place (not a happy camper about that trip) and so we thought maybe we might be spilling oil. Tried to restart the car and NOTHING. Nada. Husband checks under the hood and wouldn't you know it... The timing belt broke (or so we think). Either way, the car is not driveable. The irony of this? I got the title in the mail yesterday. Sweet irony. We got our tax refund back April 18th.

So the Paid For PT Cruiser is sitting in the lot of our Chrysler dealer awaiting a diagnosis on Monday. And it may or may not be under warranty. So we may or may not get a rental car. I've got my fingers crossed, though. The fun begins on Monday morning when we have to cram 3 kids in car seats and two adults into a '94 Integra.

And this my children is why I'm tempted to take a thousand bucks and buy a junky looking car that runs decently and garage it "just in case".