Queen of Rambles

If you still have this feed in your reader, please go to http://blog2.queenoframbles.com and change your feed. I am still blogging almost every day! The new blog actually works. I still don’t know why this blog would quit working a few days a month.

Please update your links! I am sick and tired of this blog being down more than it is up. My other blogs don’t have this problem, so I am going to try to just create a new one and hope for the best.

Please update your links/RSS feeds to go to http://blog2.queenoframbles.com/

It is looking pretty sorry right now, but I figure most of you are reading off a feed reader anyway. I have a beautiful masthead from Calliope, but have to figure out what I did with it. I fear it is on my other computer. I better e-mail her one of these days.

So. . . there you go! Go to the other blog and we’ll see if it works better.

I hope and pray (except I don’t actually pray) that I had the swine flu this spring. There was a big sign up on the preschool door that they have their first case of swine flu. They are asking everyone who feels poorly to stay home. I bet it’s too late. It’s going to rip like wildfire through the school.

Why, oh why, wouldn’t our doctors test us for the flu this spring? If I knew we already had it I could rest easy. I think we MUST have had it. Bah! Not that I am particularly worried about Death! Dying! Panic! Mainly, I don’t want to be sick ass sick while pregnant. I’m already sick ass sick.

Maybe I should call Erik’s doctor tomorrow and inquire about the flu vaccines. Normally we just wait until his yearly visit, but that’s not happening for another three weeks. I think he has to get three shots that day so I know they won’t want to give him the flu shot on top of that.

I’ve had several of you ask if we are planning on finding out the sex of the baby. Yes! I am about the most impatient person I know. I have to know everything there is to know the minute I can know it. I’ll post as soon as I know. The only secret I’m keeping is the name. We learned last time that it’s best to keep the name under wraps until the baby has actually arrived and been named whatever name it is. I can pretty much guarantee the name won’t be Kai. Sadly. I don’t want to divorce Mike and become a single mother, so I suppose I have to allow him his veto power. Other than Kai I’ve got nothing. I think it would be cool to have a name that has the K sound in it somewhere since Carrie, Mike and Erik all have that sound, but if we are also trying to have a name that works in Swedish I don’t know if that is possible. That would limit our already small amount of choices.

I suppose it is possible we will have a girl and I won’t have to be bitter forever. Like Heather, I’m feeling a boy vibe. Also like Heather, I think it probably has to do with thinking of babies as boys after having a boy. I was 100% convinced Erik would be a girl so I don’t exactly have a great track record.

Erik and I had to have a serious talk today. He was sitting on my lap and suddenly told me I wasn’t cute. Then he told me I was fat. I told him it wasn’t nice to say that and not to say it again, so he just kept saying it over and over until I finally had to send him to his room (calmly and rationally! Whoo!)

When he came back down we talked and he kept saying “Why can’t I say you’re fat? You are fat. You eat too much ice cream.” Then he grabbed my stomach fat to illustrate.

Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit.

I know exactly where he gets it from. Me and my big whiny mouth. I’m really going to have to work on that. I know I read about really being self-aware of body talk in front of kids from a lot of mothers of girls, but hadn’t really thought about it since I have a boy. Time to think about it! What a slap in the face to hear such harsh and hurtful words coming out of my son’s mouth and knowing he is just parroting what he hears me say every day.

To totally change the topic, I’ve been researching car seat laws in Sweden and it seems that the laws are not strict–it is just culture custom that has kids rear facing until age 4 or later. Whew! I am hoping we can get away with taking a booster for Erik b/c it would be so much simpler, though his real car seat feels so much safer. I don’t know. If anyone has more official information on the laws, please do shoot me a link. I was just looking it up in English and never found anything truly official.

I’ve also been looking up MD car seat laws and they are much more lax than I thought as well. I was really just looking them up because I am snarky. The gal who co-hosted the baby shower has a daughter who just turned one. While I was there, they stuffed her into her baby bucket car seat to take her somewhere. I had to do a double take. No way in HELL was that safe. Her head and her legs were totally hanging off the edges.

They said something along the lines of her being a little big for it and I tried to tell a funny story about me not knowing you could put a baby in a convertible seat. I thought they had to be in the baby bucket until 1 year of age, but that was not the case. I figured it out when Erik was about nine months old.

The husband got really defensive and told me that someone had told him about a new law that just passed last year that said all infants had to be in the baby bucket until 1 year of age. That doesn’t make any sense at all since it is not safe for a baby to be in a seat that it has outgrown. I want to send them an e-mail with the actual law attached, but I guess it would be too bitchy to do so. They know she’s over a year. They know she has outgrown that seat. If they want to do something about it they will. I was rather taken aback at how defensive the guy was over the whole thing. I guess I have become one of those horrible people who make comments about the way other people raise their kids.

We got up early this morning and braved rush hour traffic for a special moms club event. We went on a tour of Trader Joe’s! This sounded really exciting and fun, but the reality is there isn’t much excitement to be had for a four year old in a grocery store. Maybe if they had a real bakery or some other typically off limits area, but no. The kids were given balloons and lots of treats, but that was about the only kid friendly part. The rest of the tour consisted of a guy going around and showing us all his favorite products and telling us why their stuff is so good and cheap.

And it took an hour.

Erik was one of the oldest kids there and he was completely unhinged by the time we were done. I think all the moms had a fake plastered on smile and were ready to run away by the end. Neat idea for an event, but not a particularly kid friendly tour.

There was another little 4 year old girl that Erik just does not get along with. She has major oldest child syndrome. Erik has major only child syndrome. They both want to be the boss of the world and it’s like the clash of the titans when they get together. Her mom and I both try to get them to simmer down and behave, but it’s like talking to the wall. It is probably a good thing I married a youngest child. I don’t think an oldest child could ever deal with my extremely bossy self.

Update on Sweden trip: we are going as long as everything works out! I am amazed! We’ll probably try to travel over on Christmas day so it’s not such a madhouse and stay about a week. We’ll get a little break from the family farm when we travel to Goteberg to take care of the business end of our trip, which I’m excited about. Family is all fine and good, but I really like to e out on our own exploring new places.

It’s going to be much easier to travel with Erik this time since he won’t need any special accommodations. Heck, too bad we can’t leave him with relatives for a night while we go off and have a romantic evening in Goteberg, but there’s no way I’m leaving him with people he doesn’t know who don’t speak his language. I doubt they would offer to watch him, anyway. The point is moot. Or moo as Joey would say.

The other night I was trying to think of the name of the actor who played Joey but it wouldn’t come to me. I googled just now and am very glad I did. They are making a movie! HERE It sounds true. But will it be any good? Will it be worth watching? I don’t know. I must be a psychic! Why else would I be compelled to google Matt LeBlanc?

I am such a dork. When the show ended I had all kinds of anxiety dreams about the show and the characters. They just don’t make them like they used to, do they? Mad About You, Seinfeld, Friends. Where is some good funny stuff these days? Of course, if they showed it I wouldn’t even know since I pretty much don’t watch any new sitcoms.

Ok, I got to get to bed. I am one exhausted mama. I think Erik was pretty exhausted today as well. Poor kid had big circles under his eyes. That’s the problem with having such a pale child. Things like that really show up.

I think Erik may be adjusting to the idea of the baby. He hasn’t had another fit about it and when we’ve discussed it, he’s been calm. Last night he came up and told me he has a baby girl in his belly. I think that must be a good sign. Later he told me that it was going to be in his belly for thirty years, then it was going to come out his butt. Then he parted his naked butt and showed me. That wasn’t so impressive. Aren’t kids supposed to get modest around age 4?

Is that all I have tonight? I do believe it is.

But what is a queen of rambles post without a ramble? Nothing! I’ll have to put on my thinking cap and figure out a thought. I have very little thoughts in my blank head tonight.

The other day I randomly watched an episode of In Plain Sight and enjoyed it. Nothing fabulous, but I set it to record on the DVR and it looked like there were a few episodes a day playing. I just checked and suddenly there is nothing. No more re-runs showing anywhere. No big loss, but I just thought it was odd that they were on daily and now there’s nothing.

We have a really amazing opportunity based purely on knowing people via LJ that I’m really excited about. We might get a free trip to Sweden! It all depends on Mike’s schedule. My mom is going to kick my ass if we spend another Christmas in Sweden, but if the trip is free she can’t get too mad. I haven’t spent a Christmas in Oregon since I moved to Sweden in 2001 and that isn’t likely to change any time soon. We go back there a lot, but it just doesn’t make sense to shell out so much for Christmas travel. The tickets can literally be 4 times as much as a January ticket. When you’re buying three tickets, that really adds up. No matter the time of year, it is actually cheaper for us to fly to Sweden than the airport in my hometown. We could probably fly into Portland for around the same price, but then we still have a six hour drive ahead of us. By the time you factor in hotel rooms, gas and sitting in a car for that long it just isn’t worth it.

I’m not going to say anything else about the details, just that it will be really cool if this actually happens. I wasn’t going to say anything at all, but I’ve got nothing else to talk about.

I was sitting here eating my cheese when I noticed my finger was sort of hurting. I looked down, and all the skin from the knuckle was sliced off. How did I do that and not even notice? Of course, as soon as I saw it the pain increased ten fold. I guess I must have cut it while slicing the cheese, so basically it was bleeding freely for at least ten minutes before I even noticed. Weirdo.

I’m so very glad the baby shower is over. I think it turned out just fine in the end. The co-host didn’t actually do much of the stuff she said she was going to do. There was none of her strange dessert and her idea of a cocktail party theme ended up being pretty bland–she just served virgin margaritas. It was definitely a very uneven amount of effort/money spent. But I think everyone had fun and my friend ended up with a lot of really cute decorated onesies so that’s the important thing.

My progesterone poisoning is really ramping up and I am utterly miserable. I can’t even eat most of the bland things I’ve been eating. I’m ready to curl up and hibernate for the next several weeks, but that’s not really an option when you already have a kid that needs mothering. I have a horrible taste in my mouth that won’t go away. I am constantly thirsty, but no matter how much I drink the thirst is never quenched. I just have to keep my eye on the prize. In about three years I am going to have a really fun kid to place with. All this misery will be forgotten. *repeat a million times*

We went to a birthday party yesterday and I missed out on a bunch of authentic Indian food. I did eat a couple of things, but I was so sick I couldn’t eat much.

It was at a local little kid play place, so the kids went and played in the gym with the employees while the parents all stood around and talked. There was another party finishing up and two of the kids from that party totally hijacked our party and were running around, being extremely bratty. The boy was obviously special needs and I think the girl might have been as well. Problem? They were blonde children. Erik and I were the only white people at our party. Thus, everyone kept looking at me and wondering why I wouldn’t go control my two children since they obviously belonged to me. I was really glad when the employees finally figured it out and kicked them out. I guess it’s kind of like that old story about the house guest who shows up and the host’s dog follows her in and totally destroys the house. When the guest leaves the host tells her to take her dog with her, and it suddenly becomes apparent the dog is a wild stray.

One man at the party was really insistent that I try the chickpeas. I really dislike chickpeas, except in hummus, but I finally took some because I didn’t want to be rude. I was scared of them because I could see several sliced jalepenos floating in the sauce. Before I bit into it, the guys wife chewed him up one side and down the other in their language. He came back over to me and told me to be careful because I might think it was spicy. I got a good laugh out of that. I guess he wasn’t really thinking about my tender white tongue.

This is one choppy little blog entry. I can’t focus on anything for more than a paragraph. Bah. I need to go to bed. I need to get some real sleep. I need to quit puking.

The other day I picked up an odd picture book from the library, When the Silliest Cat was Small by Gilles Blachet. It may very well be the strangest book I’ve read, excepting the naked Swedish book. It looked intriguing. The cover features a mother elephant and a regular baby elephant, plus two baby elephants with cat coloring. I thought it could be fun and entertaining, but it was just bizarre.

So this whole book is about the baby elephant being thought of as a cat, acting like a cat, being treated like a cat. Could have been very funny. But it wasn’t. The words didn’t rhyme or flow or even make much sense (it was translated from French). The humor was much to dry for a four year old to understand. Hell, it was too dry for a 35 year old to understand. As we read each page and talked about the cat getting a drink or whatever, Erik would wrinkle up his nose and say “but that’s an elephant.”

Maybe it was supposed to be subtle. I don’t know. It was just way too strange for the Possum family. I blame the French.

The other weird thing was a playground incident.

I was sitting on the bench supervising Erik and trying not to supervise the hooligans, though it is hard to say nothing when they are about to run in front of a car. As much as I’d like to absolve myself of all responsibility, I don’t think seeing a child hit by a car would do much for my psyche.

While we were sitting there, an 18 month old came toddling over. He was visiting his grandma and she was out with him, muttering to herself that “they” don’t leave their kids unsupervised and she wasn’t going to leave him alone. I avoided all eye contact because it seemed pretty obvious that she wanted me to say “no problem! I’ll watch him!” Not going to happen. He doesn’t even know me. The few times he’s been out with his mom, she’s had a shit fit if he got so much of a speck of dirt on him. I have my hands full enough making sure Erik doesn’t run out in front of a car*. I don’t need to be distracted with a toddler I don’t even know.

Her husband/boyfriend/brother/manfriend/whoever kept yelling at her to go in the house and she kept yelling back that she needed someone to watch the kid. She also kept saying that she needed to go to the bathroom.

The toddler picked up one of Erik’s beach toys and Erik was mad that the kid didn’t ask to play with it first. I told him “He’s just a baby. It’s ok. He can play with it.”

The grandmother JUMPED on this and acted like she thought I was talking to her, offering to babysit the kid. “Oh! You’ll supervise him!”

I was so proud of myself. I said “Oh no, I’m just supervising my own son. He was asking why the baby took his shovel.”

I was given a look of death (because everyone wants someone they don’t even know to supervise their kid in middle of the street, right?) but she finally picked him up and took him in.

At least she didn’t just leave him with me.

*Our street is a dead end. The houses on one side all have driveways, but the houses on the other side just have assigned parking spaces. Basically the “street” is more like a parking lot. The playground is toward the end, but there are still enough cars ripping through that it makes me nervous.

No, we aren’t having a boy. Well. We might be. It is too early to tell.

Just oh boy. We had quite a day today.

I had my dating ultrasound and everything is looking good. We saw a heart beat and lots of little tiny arm waving. The baby is pretty much a blob, but I’m sure it is a cute blob. The tech said I’m 10w2d, which puts it almost exactly at the date I calculated. I’m really glad I lied about the date of my last period, otherwise I’m sure there would have been much gnashing of teeth about the baby being two weeks too small.

Anyway, I couldn’t get a sitter so had to take Erik with me. It never occurred to me that the sono would be internal. I really loved laying on the table with Erik holding my hand while a lady stuck a dildo cam in my private area. Thankfully Erik was completely oblivious. I had a big sheet draped over me and he couldn’t tell what was going on. He was quite interested in seeing the baby on the screen, so that was a positive.

The negative?

I told him about the baby this morning. I figured that if he was coming with me to the sono I really needed to explain to him what was going on. We’ve talked about babies growing in tummies before and how he popped out of mommy’s tummy. I told him we were going to go do the doctor so we could see if I had a baby growing in my tummy.

He completely FLIPPED OUT. He started screaming and crying and saying he was my baby and he didn’t want a stinky, messy baby that would spit on him. Then he started smashing my stomach, saying he was smooshing the baby so it could never come out. It was pretty intense. I suppose this means I can never, ever, ever leave him alone in the room with the baby even for two seconds. He’s already tried to commit fratricide.

Maybe it is good I told him now? I don’t know. Maybe it will eventually sink in and he’ll be happy about it. He did enjoy the part where I told him he would always be bigger than the baby. He’s very big on being big.

After the appointment we didn’t talk about it at all and I think I’m going to let the subject drop for a little while. Instead, we went out and had a day of indulgence.

We were right by Red Rock Canyon Grill so I had to stop in for a salad. It was good to eat real food. We don’t eat there often because it is extremely expensive, so Erik’s memory of the place is going to see a movie afterward. As soon as we walked in he started asking to go see a movie.

We went over to the theatre to see if they were playing Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs. I needed all the help I could get on a single parent day with no preschool. We were a little late, but I thought it wouldn’t be a problem on a weekday afternoon.

Sure enough, we walked in and we were the only people in the whole place. Erik was upset periodically through the movie because he wanted to see it with “everyone.” The child is just not happy unless there is a crowd.

I was pretty happy we were the only ones since Erik isn’t so great on movie etiquette. He’s one of those old ladies who has to ask loudly about every plot point and line of dialogue.

Overall the movie was pretty funny, though Erik was too young to get most of it. I’m looking forward to Planet 51, a cartoon that looks like E. T. reversed. A human astronaut lands on an alien planet and they are terrified of him.

When we got home, two of the hooligans showed up but Erik wasn’t interested in playing. A few minutes later the neighbor knocked on the door and said they kids were in my backyard. I went back there and they were plucking all the green tomatoes off my plants. I was pissed!

I shooed them away and didn’t even yell. I need to get some kind of latch or lock that they can’t reach. I don’t want to really lock the back gate since that would be a fire hazard, but a hook and eye latch up high should be fine.

And now I am off to bed! I think I am going to take a sleeping pill even though I was told not too. I got no sleep at all last night. I kept hearing people walking around in the hallway and even got up a couple of times to check it out. No one was there. Then I got creeped out with the thought that Erik was walking around, so had to go check on him. I don’t really know why that would creep me out. He does go to the bathroom by himself in middle of the night. He’s not a zombie. I just have weird middle of the night thoughts.

It is so strange being alone in the house. I never thought I would be the type of person who didn’t like to be alone. I lived on my own for a few years and never had a problem. I have been living with Mike for eight years, so haven’t really been on my own for a very long time. I guess that makes a mark on a person. I’m sort of scared to take a sleeping pill when I’m the only adult in the house. I don’t know. I’ve got to get some sleep or I won’t be able to get through tomorrow. This house is a pit. It is even starting to smell like a pit. I think Erik peed on something.

Mike is in SFO for the rest of the week. Erik and I are all alone. The house is the biggest, nastiest, grossest pit of yuck that I’ve lived in since I was in college. The chair smells like urine. I meant to clean up today, but I sort of zoned out during preschool instead.

Did I mention I’m exhausted?

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I am going to be refreshed and ready to take on the world. Tomorrow I will do all the cleaning chores that I should have done today. Tomorrow will be beautiful.

Or maybe I’ll call a housecleaning service. That sounds fair, right?

One of my friend’s brought over a really cute baby cradle tonight and Erik had a fit. He kept telling her to take it away and find someone else to give it to. We don’t need a cradle because babies are not allowed in our house. Babies are stinky and messy and spit on people. Later, right before bed, he had a full on crying meltdown because of the cradle. I guess he really doesn’t care for babies.

We are in for a disaster in April, aren’t we?

We haven’t actually told him yet, though I think he suspects. I told him the cradle was for my friend’s baby. If she comes to visit she can sleep in it. He didn’t seem to be buying that explanation. He is so opposed to the idea that I’m not sure the best way to tell him. Plus, it takes such a long time for a baby to arrive that I don’t want to get him all stirred up before it is necessary. I probably should find a book to read on this subject. Anyone have a good one?

We went and ordered the cake for the baby shower today, which caused Erik all kinds of angst. The baby shouldn’t get a cake! He should get a cake! I did get him a cupcake, which he mostly threw away. It had a four inch layer of green frosting that he couldn’t crack, though his clothes are now ruined from the green dye.

Anyway, when I got home from the store I had an e-mail from my friend saying we should just cancel the party because no one is coming and it is silly to have a party for just four people (two co-hosts, herself and her sister). Actually, we have eight people planning on attending (including those four), so I guess she must be having a pregnancy hormone fueled freak out. I really want her to have fun and feel celebrated but I have no idea what she’s going to decide to do. Luckily I haven’t invested any money into the party yet, but I think the other co-host has. I wanted to call her and try to talk her off the ledge, but by that time it was time for her son’s bedtime routine and I didn’t want to interrupt that. Hopefully I can talk to her tomorrow and see what’s going on.

Oh! Speaking of the cake, I was witness to a Cake Wreck moment while waiting to order the cake. The baker was a little Chinese lady who didn’t speak English very well. Her customer was a larger than life black lady who was not going to settle for anything less than perfection. She had that head wagging thing down to a science. I always thought that was just in the movies, until I moved here.

The cake was simply supposed to say “Happy Birthday Linda” but the decorator couldn’t spell Linda. She had to scrape it off three times, until finally the customer wrote it down.

But then she wasn’t putting it in the right place.

The customer wanted it centered. It looked like it was centered to me and to the baker, but no. It was not centered. The customer finally grabbed the icing knife that the baker had been using to scrape off the letters and drew a big line to indicate where the name should be written. It looked slanty to me, but it wasn’t my cake. I thought the cake was going to end up smashed in someone’s face, and me without my camera.

That’s all I’ve got. I need to go to bed. I am not looking forward to another sleepless night. I try to count sheep, but they won’t hold still. Last night they kept jumping down a well so I couldn’t even see them to count them. I have major issues, I think.

Today I’ve felt worst than most days combined with the nausea. I suddenly realized that I forgot to drink my 2-3 cups of rooibos tea throughout the day. I guess that stuff really works! I immediately fixed myself a cup and felt better almost immediately. I still feel sick, but it is more low grade–I’m not on the verge of actual puke.

I’ve also been having major pains with my c-section scar today, which scares me a little. I had my first OB appointment today but they wanted to save that for my first prenatal appointment since this was just a pregnancy confirmation appointment. I guess I’ll probably be going in again next week. I have a sonogram scheduled for Thursday to date the pregnancy, so that should be interesting. This practice is a lot different than the practice that delivered Erik. For now I am cautiously optimistic and will say they seem a lot better. At least I don’t leave the appointments wanting to cry because I’m such a Fatty McFatterson. My last OB experience was all about the fat hate. So far no one has said a word to me, though I’m sure that will change.

Today was all about the blood test and the risks of Advanced Maternal Age. We are supposed to think about what we want to do in terms of testing for abnormalities and what we would do if there were abnormalities. Such a tough call. I know what my immediate thought is, but I’m not sure that would be the right choice. Mike and I haven’t discussed it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if our thoughts ran in opposite directions on this subject. Let’s just hope and hope and hope that we don’t need to worry about it.

I was laughing when the girl did the blood draw. She was very worried because the spot started bruising, though in the end it is a bruise smaller than a dime. She told me I could take Tylenol for the pain. I have never had anyone suggest I take pain medication after a blood draw.

I forgot to ask about getting a flu shot, so I guess we’ll address that at the next appointment as well. I want my flu shot! I hope pregnant ladies can have them.

Erik has been driving me nuts today. My mom thinks I need to get him a punching bag to try to expend some of his energy. He loves hitting, but I’m not sure I want to encourage that. He is constantly asking if I want to fight and telling me he can take me. What the hell, little boy? What the hell?

He had his gym class tonight and I have to say I’m not too impressed with this round. Last year the original teacher took a sabbatical, leaving two college girls to teach the class. From my perspective they did an excellent job. They had a lot of energy and kept the kids running for the full 45 minutes. They loved Erik and would always tell me that he was an inspiration to the other students and kept the class going. They thought he was quite a character and obviously thought that was a good thing.

Now the middle aged teacher is back.

I could be biased because I took one of her ab classes and was really displeased with it. She was snooty and didn’t make any concessions for the new people in class. She didn’t give a single modified version of anything and didn’t offer a single word of encouragement.

So I guess I don’t like her.

Normally I do the elliptical during the kid class, but after 15 minutes my c-section scar was pulling and burning so bad that I decided I better stop. I sat by the door of the cardio room and semi-watched what the kids were doing. Instead of having the kids play various running games for the class, she had them on mats, trying to get them to do push-ups, sit-ups and various other exercises. She then had them do some coordinated movements on a step and some bouncing on an exercise ball. There was some running at the end, but she didn’t have the energy of the college students and Erik didn’t even break a sweat.

Erik didn’t do any of those things. He tried, but he just didn’t get how to do a lot of it. She went over to help him at one point, but then she got distracted. Mainly he just ran around in circles, doing his own thing.

He seems perfectly happy, which is good. I’m told he doesn’t follow directions well. I already knew that. It is true. No denying it. She isn’t in love with my baby and that’s ok. Except I really liked the teachers that were in love with him. I guess it is a learning experience for me. Not everyone will think the sun rises and sets with him. I’m his mother, so that’s my job. I just wish she would run them harder so he’d be tired by the time he’s done, instead of pumped up and ready for action. I finally took him outside and made him run up and down the sidewalk. Thankfully the hooligan children weren’t out. I don’t know why, but I’m not complaining.

Oh, two things about that. A) I would love to keep him in our backyard, but there isn’t much back there for him to do and no room to put anything in. He won’t play back there. He is extremely social in nature and wants to go to the neighborhood park to play with all his friends. B) We have a police officer living in the community who knows about the situation. Several of us have talked to him about it and he doesn’t think calling the authorities would accomplish anything. What kind of world do we live in? I don’t know. But I have a feeling he is right. Unless the children are in imminent danger nothing is going to happen. One would think being unsupervised would be dangerous, but I guess it’s not since technically the mother could be watching from the window.