The Tooth Fairy has Alzheimer's

This morning, my friend and mother of 4 (yes, 4) small children, mentioned that the tooth fairy had forgotten to visit her oldest daughter last night. Heartbreaking, sure. But at my house, a common occurrence. I've decided the tooth fairy must have Alzheimer's.

I don't know how parents of yesteryear, you know, that time before cell phones and reminders, were able to manage all of the things in their head and still remember to sneak into the kid's bedrooms at night and slip a quarter under their pillows. These days there are spy cams to contend with, alarms for the door to purportedly keep your snoopy little sister out of the room, but that will instead have your parents jumping about a foot in the air. And that's only if we can remember to do it. If my phone runs out of battery, I may never get the reminder. Worse, if I fall asleep, I likely won't hear it. And we all know the kids always wake up before we do, so I can't even try to sneak it under there in the morning.

So my suggestion was to have the tooth fairy leave a little note tonight: "Ran out of fairy dust, got delayed." Because who hasn't had that problem before. We're all busy, even the tooth fairy. There are more and more kids out there (and in here), and she's juggling a lot on that iPhone of hers. And let's face it, that poor fairy must be ancient by now. So even if she hasn't been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, it's a lot for that little old fairy to remember.

Happy Birthday to me

Thank you for giving me
what I needed most:
Your arms to hold me

Reading my life away

As has become my trademark, I have been noticeably (by the 2 followers I have) absent from my writing. There are a million excuses I could fabricate that would satisfy any reader, but the truth of the mater is that I have been submerged in a life of fantasy, engrossed in the novels that I have been reading, and so consumed by them that I have not had the time or inclination to put my own words on paper.

As you can see from my list, I have already read 5 books in 2012, and am working through my sixth. I do not mean to say that these novels are headed for literature classes everywhere, however, some are so engaging that it is impossible to break away. I think what I have found most fascinating is that while reading different authors, the characteristics of Fae and such fantasy creatures seem to be the same. There must be a course on this somewhere, and I think I need to take it. These are fairy stories I have never heard, but that apparently exist somewhere considering how often I have come across them in the fantasy books I have been reading.

As a general rule, I do not read fantasy. I much prefer fiction set in this world, especially if set before 19th century. I feel as though I can relate to the characters and perhaps have gone through some of the same changes in life that they have and enjoy the romance we have come to associate with anything set before modern times. However, one of the girls in my book club loves fantasy, and at her recommendation, I have read more fantasy than I thought possible. Patrick Rothfuss tells a brilliant story in his series The Kingkiller Chronicle. Each of the first two books is more than 500 pages (the second being twice as long as the first), and in them we are only given a few short years of the main character's life. However, the story is told in such a way that you as a reader will be swept away into this fantasy world and when you pull away form the book, you find that you don't recognize the one you live in. It is truly magical.

In Chima's The Seven Realms Series, some of this magic and wizardry is familiar as well. The typical evil wizard is present and he takes control of the beautiful queen. Yes, it sounds childish. It is childish. It is a Young Adult novel centered around a 16 year old princess. That's the point. But again, what draws me in is this fantasy world with different cultures and the relationships and struggles each culture has to deal with, not only with the other groups, but within their own as well.

The point of this is, I've been busy in these realms. I cannot be blamed for my absence from the world of blogging. It's difficult to break away when the hero has been stabbed, kidnapped, or poisoned. Believe me, I would rather be churning out my own stories and giving them a life and breath all their own, but I can always say this is research. You know, even if I'm not writing a Young Adult fantasy novel...

It gets harder the older they get...

Being a stay-at-home mom has proven much more complicated than I remember. I was sure I would have plenty of time to write, read, play, teach...Of course, last time I was at home I had a 6 year old boy who is so brilliant and kind that he didn't need much help from me, and a 2 year old little girl who was content to sit on my lap and listen as her brother read. And a cleaning lady. That's the part I miss the most.

Fast forward 5 years and I am now blessed with an 11 year old who is still brilliant and kind, but who needs a lot of nudging to keep him from reading so much that he forgets to do his homework. My 7 year old is a handful to say the least, and needs more attention than a mother of three can give her. We are currently dealing with study issues, and having her evaluated for ADD, not to mention she is constantly practicing her cheers. All this as my wild, half-naked, blonde and curly-headed 3 year old son is running amuck. And no cleaning lady. Sigh.

I now understand why an oldest child always complains that the baby gets whatever he wants: I have too much going on to deal with that last one!

Some people call him "Tarzanito" (a diminutive for Tarzan, because Cubans turn everything into the diminutive). Others are more intrigued by his love of galoshes and therefore buy him pair after pair. Despite living in Miami, where it averages 90 degrees year-round and where we get little rain other than in the summer, my son lives in galoshes. Galoshes and diapers. Because I can't even get started on potty training. (I can hear your GASP). He is so determined to do the complete opposite of everything I say, that my desire for him to use underwear sounds like a punishment to his ears. This child has tested me from every angle. Sadly, I have older children, and the truth of the matter is that it only gets harder the older they get. So, I'm worried. My husband is worried. But we have to laugh. Because what else can you do when your kid walks around in diapers and galoshes. Oh, and he tells you "I can do it, Mom. I'm smart!"

And he really is smart. I am constantly amazed by the things this little boy picks up. He also refuses to learn anything I try to teach him. Parent-teacher conferences will be abundant in my future, I'm certain of this. For now, I will laugh when he tells me how to drive, and the correct way to put the bread in the toaster, and even what sounds each letter makes. Because he is smart. And he is a challenge. But, as my father always says, each generation should be more intelligent than the preceding one, otherwise the world would go to hell in a hand-basket!