Leah is about to leave for sleepaway camp this coming Sunday. She is enormously excited and has had an awful lot of fun shopping for the necessities of camp -- kleenex, another bathing suit, glow-in-the-dark bracelets... you know, CRITICAL needs.

Late last week we found out her camp had a small outbreak of H1N1 (or the "swine flu"). Needless to say a great "oh, SHIT!" was heard about the land. Many minutes were spent googling "H1N1" and all kinds of big words and scary media stories were found.

Then came the questions. Do we send her? How many kids have it? What are they doing about it? What if she gets it?

After the initial freak out, I knew we needed to take an optimistic "wait and see" approach. Part of that included calling my pediatrician who is, without a doubt, the biggest rockstar of my children's lives. I explained the situation, which he was already aware of because many kids at camp are part of his patient base. His answer?

"Oh, I think it's great. I'd let her get it."

(pause)

(giggle)

"Oh, wait? You were serious."

"Oh, yeah! Let her get it. This year's strain isn't bad and then she'll have great immunity for next year - because they won't have time to get it into the flu shot vaccine and it'll be WAY worse next year. We've had 100 cases in the last two weeks. No big deal. We're not even recommending Tamiflu once it starts because it's really mild. But if you want it, I'll give it to you and she won't get it at all. Your call."

"All righty then... "

So. Just curious. If it were your kid - what would you do?

Leah got her clothes back today. I should probably explain this statement, huh?

Well, about a week ago, I walked into her room and for the nine gafrillionth time it was a mess. Clothes (clean ones, mind you) were shoved in drawers that could not close, under toys, in baskets and all over her closet floor.

And I had had just about enough.

So I quietly, but aggressively, walked downstairs, grabbed several trash bags and proceeded to confiscated every article of clothing she owned. Drawers were emptied, closet racks cleared.

To say she was stunned is perhaps an understatement.

I didn't yell. Well, okay, I yelled once. For effect. I told her, in no uncertain terms, that if she didn't appreciate the nice clothes that she had then she didn't deserve to have them. There are many in this world who would kill to have her clothing - there are those who have nothing.

She no longer gets to choose her clothing. I would tell what she gets to wear every day. She has lost access to her pretty dresses she and BestFriendLauren use to play Fashion Show.

This was the worst part for her.

I took all the bags and stuck them in my closet and the week began. She would have to prove through her responsible behavior that she could take care of her clothes. She would have to earn them back.

You've never seen someone work so hard to prove that point in the first hour. She PROMISED she could prove to me that she could do it. She PROMISED I would be so proud of her. She APOLOGIZED ridiculously for treating her clothes the way she did.

Throughout the week I put together outfits that still had tags on them, that she had forgotten about, that she had never thought of or let me help her with. She loved it.
And wanted me to keep her clothes forever.

NOT THE POINT, KID.

So she now has her wardrobe back and is pretty clear that the next time I grab the garbage bags they will be leaving the house permanently. And I am now her fashion consultant.

A well-respected report was published today that stated the following:

Charitable giving in the United States declined for the first time since 1987, reports the Giving USA Foundation, though total giving again broke the $300 billion mark.

I have a lot to say about this as someone who (a) works in philanthropy as a profession, and (b) is a conservative politically.

First let me say this. No other country on the planet gives this kind of money. NO ONE. We are, without a doubt, the most philanthropic and generous country in the world. The media and certain political party members would like you to believe otherwise. I'm here to tell you the United States of America is outstanding.

Let me break this down even farther for you.

Of the $300 billion that was given, 75% of that was donated by INDIVIDUALS. Folks like you and I. Are there the enormous billion dollar gift commitments jammed in there somewhere? Yes. And thank G-d. But the majority of those gifts came from "regular folks". Who get up and go to work every morning and still, at the end of the day, after all their expenses are taken care, their taxes are paid, decided to give part of their hard-earned income to an organization of their choice that would help those that can't help themselves.

Philanthropic dollars provide, without a doubt, the margin of excellence in research, social services, arts and education. They are the dollars that launch a lab or clinical trials that might one day cure a disease. They are the dollars that brings arts education to students whose school district is so mired in political bullshit thanks to political agendas they've forgotten how to educated well-rounded, high-performing students. They are the dollars that put a roof over someone's head. They are the dollars that provide a dying child one final wish.

None of this could be done by state or federal or corporate dollars alone. It takes impassioned individual donors who are committed to make a difference - whether they want the credit for it or not.

So, Mr. President, I submit to you the following - as it has already started to happen.

Your interest in redistributing wealth in a socialistic manner will fail not only those that have the means to support themselves, but more critically, fail those that do not have the means. You will, undoubtedly, kill capitalism and philanthropy in one fell swoop.

Those "haves" that you and your party so earnestly are pursuing - they are the ones who are truly taking care of the "have nots". The government has failed them time after time, program after program. I've seen it first-hand. But the people of this country? They serve this national honorably - they serve it with dollars NOT taxed and already allocated for failed programs. They give more because they believe in a cause. Because they can make a difference. Because they can model the way.

If you raise taxes and take away the benefits of home ownership (at any level), if you add taxes and cap salaries - you take away people's ability to give. You will fail those that you claim to want to help. It will be on YOUR shoulders, not the party across the aisle.

$300 billion is a lot of money. It is more than any stimulus money (in one fiscal year) you have passed or proposed. It is the life blood of so many non-profit missions.

Be really sure before you start screwing around with those that affect it. It will cost you an election.

Yesterday Leah had a check up - her 8 year old physical appointment. For the first time ever she had to bring in a urine sample.

(I'll pause while you put your lunch down now.)

She thought I had just about gone batshit insane when I told her she had to pee in a cup, but she did as she was told. Benjamin was FASCINATED and Leah was nice enough (or too freaked out enough to care) to let Benjamin watch as she did this miraculous feat.

I've never seen a two year old stand there with big eyes and mouth hanging open. It was worth that all by itself. Pure awesomeness.

As she handed me the partially filled cup Benjamin stood mesmerized. I turned around to screw the lid on and heard, "Mommy? What's dat? Apple juice?"

Good thing I had a good grip on that cup.

...with Benjamin.

Yes, folks, it's that time. He needs to be potty trained. I had had just about enough of the whole "diaper" thing and started to think we should start to work on this so he would be trained before he left for college.

I'll admit I'm totally cheating. Benjamin goes to a great little school during the day so I decided to give myself a break and let them start the fabulous process yesterday. And I'm totally thinking I'll need the five days of prep time before dealing with it all weekend - because it occurred to me I will literally be held hostage by his butt and not be able to go anywhere since he has to "go" every 30 minutes or so while we try to get this under control.

Makes for an awesome weekend, no?

Yesterday was Day One. He did GREAT. Seriously. Not one accident all school day until he got.... wait for it... IN HIS CARSEAT. Awesome.

We had one additional accident because we "forgot the balls was coming out." (His words)

He got it right the rest of the afternoon, including the "balls" and also ran around the house telling everyone, "No pishy in Thomas!" (his favorite, most influential underpants)
In further news, he is a big fan of his penis -- and likes to hold it whenever possible, now that he has complete access to it. Also awesome.

And, because I needed to amuse myself, if you ask him where the party is, he will tell you "in his pants".

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to stock up on laundry detergent, M&Ms and scotch.

BenjaGrease, originally uploaded by OutsideVoice.

You send the kid to school on Crazy Hair Day and he comes home looking like Kenickie from Grease.

Dear Leah,

I cannot think of a better way to try to get back into this blogging thing than be wishing you a happy eighth birthday. It's given me a chance to spend a few minutes looking back on the year that was and marveling at what you have done and who you are becoming.

To kick off your eighth year we rented a giant inflatable waterslide and lots of your friends came over to get hot and wet and eat cupcakes and generally wreak havoc on our backyard. It was awesome and once again you declared this the Best! Birthday! Party! Ever! But this year? I really think it was.

Almost a year ago you started off your seventh year with sleep away camp for the very first time. I'd like to go ahead and tell you now you have NO chance at ever playing poker successfully because every emotion you own crosses your face and eyes almost instantaneously. You were all at once so very excited and so very anxious about going away for 11 whole days. But you know what? You had a blast. You spread your wings and made new friends, had an adventure and discovered how much you could do all by yourself. And that experience has served you very well this year.

This year also brought you lessons in friendship. For the first time you and LaurenLastName were not in the same class. When you found out that was the case, there was great woe about the land, but both of you learned to expand your social circle a bit - and navigate the choppy girl waters that come with that. This year you learned that sometimes you have to stand up for yourself and for your friends. That for all your bravado and personality there are others that are so fascinating they lead you down the wrong path. I know this situation will repeat itself as you grow up, but I am so very proud of the way you handled yourself when you had to face it at seven. May you always have such grace and strength.

You had to say goodbye to two very special forces in your life this year - your (great) Grandma and our Pfluftagus, Sunni. Daddy and I worried about you a little since these events happened within a few months of each other, but you handled it well. Your steel trap of a mind remembered everything you experienced when you lost your Grandpa Gene and you approached the services with a loving sense and tremendous respect. And truth be told you and your brother provided a bright ray of sunshine to all that came together to say goodbye.

Losing Sunni was a new experience for you - and I think you were surprised by the struggle it gave you. Everything you knew about death was related to humans and it was hard for you to understand that pets don't have funerals, there is no grave site. It felt incomplete to you. The vet was kind enough to create a ceramic print of sunni's paw so that we would have something to remember her by. You held that little ornament close to you the day it came, but that night it was too sad and scary for you to deal with alone in the dark and brought it back down to me so that I could take care of it for you. We decided together to hang it by our back door now and you smile when you see it.

This was also the year your dance interest got fed more seriously. You moved to a studio that is less about the costumes for the recital and more about the technique and fostering a true love of dance and my g-d how you loved it. This year you tried out for next year's Company and made it. You are officially a Jazz Bit. You have no idea what this really means, but you are excited at the opportunity to take some extra classes and perform more often. This Saturday you will dance in your final Revue on the stage of the Wortham Theater - one of the finest professional stages in Houston. You have worked hard - focused, practiced and practiced some more - and while the costume is still one of your favorite parts (it has a twirly skirt, afterall), I know that the best part of this will be how you feel dancing on stage. You are fearless on stage - no matter how big - and it makes my heart explode to see you enjoying yourself so much.

But above all else, what can bring me to tears and laughter and utter frustration faster than a hot second is seeing you be a big sister to Benjamin. The two of you are a real pair. Sometimes you're a pair of assholes, but mostly you're hilarious. Benjamin WORSHIPS you. He wants to talk like you, run like you, scream like you (just stop it already) and even dance like you. There are times when you'd just prefer for him to GO PLAY IN THE OTHER ROOM ALREADY, but you spend a few extra moments tolerating his presence and somehow you two end up on some wild ass adventure that involves 157 blocks, two blankets, nine pillows and a hat.

You love your brother fiercely. You laugh at him and with him, help him and want to protect him when he's in trouble which these days is every 27 seconds. You are a kind and loving and silly big sister and he is lucky to have you.

We all are.

Happy birthday, Swimmy. May this year be full of friends and giggles and growth and adventures and accomplishments. And thank you for letting me come along for the ride. I love you -

Love,
Mommy

I drive all of 17 minutes to drop Benjamin off at his school. It's pretty damn hard to have anything compelling happen in 17 minutes where I live. White suburbia doesn't often offer such jewels. Especially at 8 o'clock in the morning.

But today, my friends, today the gods threw me a bone. They looked down and decided today I needed a little excitement in my 17 minutes.

Today the guy next to me was jacking off at a stop light.

Don't ask me how I know this. I just do. It was MORE than obvious.

But, dude? Really?! You couldn't have finished that in the shower like normal people? Were you seriously running THAT late?

And did I mention the dog in the front seat? Bless his little heart. I can only imagine the thought bubble over his head...

Oh, my G-d I have so much to say about this.

You totally want to go grocery shopping with me.

Leah was given a worksheet at school to complete in honor of Mother's Day. Here are her answers.

What would happen in your home if your mother...

...had a magic wand?
She would never send my brother to time-out.

...won a million dollars in a television contest?
Fly to Chicago.

...found a black kitten in a basket on the doorstep?
Give it to me.

...could take a trip to any place in the world she wanted to go?
Go to Alaska.

...had a chance to go to the moon?
She would take me.

...baked a magic cake?
Give it to me for my birthday party.

...could buy you any present you'd like?
I'd have it for my party.