Nothing yet everything has been going on. Nothing much to write about, but enough so that we are too busy to write. Will is getting cuter and cuter by the day, but also more and more stubborn and “independent.” He wants to do everything by himself (“No, help! I do it myself!”) and he wants to do everything his sister does (“No, Wull do it, too!”). Oh, and just about every sentence starts with, “No.”

He has taken to enjoying any and all small injuries and frequently tells us, “I have to go to the doctor.” He hasn’t completely mastered telling us what he wants, but he does tell us what he likes. “I like it beebos.” “I like it milk.” Always the “it” between. He introduces himself to everyone with a handshake and “Name William Mascot” while pointing at himself. He also runs around making sure everyone is happy and knows what time of day it is. “Momma, I happy. You happy? Good aternoon, Momma.” (or “Good morning, Momma” or “Good night, Momma”).

Signa is just getting smarter and smarter by the moment and loves to use her imagination. She has an art class, a science group, a gymnastics class and a few playgroups each week. Last week, she had a three-hour long, three-day “Pre-engineering” class at the community center. “Pre-engineering” is actually Legos, which they used to build many cool things and, more importantly, had fun with in a big group. Signa’s teacher shared with us that she is a fun child and asks a lot of questions. But she asks them before he is done explaining. He said she is also very helpful. She helps all the other students, even when they don’t ask for help. As he said, as problems go, these are very good ones to have.

Thinking back to her dance recital at age 3, some things just haven’t changed at all.

Today we were playing store and Signa was the shopkeeper. I was shopping at her store and mentioned that I really should get the toy elephant for my son, as he really likes elephants. As I added it to my basket, she said, “Your kid probably also likes this dinosaur.”

“No,” I said. “The elephant is enough.”

She whispered at me, “No, for your GIRL kid.”

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Edited to add the following Will-ism from today at Gramma's house:

"William, I told you to leave the lights alone! Go to your trouble sofa!"

He sat at the trouble sofa (equivalent of a Pooh Sofa that we have at home) and then I said, "Okay, you can get down. Go say you are sorry."

Will walked by me and went straight to the light switch. "Torry, yite." When I didn't say he could go play (because I was trying to laugh silently), he said, "Torry, yite switch. No more play."

Too funny.

I'm so sorry for this. But I'm going to get political again. I can't help it. This is just too much for me to bear without writing about it. Again, move along if we've agreed not to discuss politics or politic-like by-products. It's just that I have hot-buttons and one has been pressed. The one right next to Sarah Palin.

I've been married for 20 years (and three months). That's a long time (especially in California). So my real question is this: what the heck does someone else's marriage have to do with mine? I'm offended that people imply so. I see people every day who are married and happy, married and miserable, unmarried and happy, and unmarried and miserable. How do any of those have anything at all to do with my own marriage? I do not feel undermined by anyone else's marriage- even if I think their marriage is a bad idea.

And then to say that someone's marriage actually affects my family, not even just my own marriage? How? My children like toads and snails and Daleks from Doctor Who. They do not (I repeat, do NOT) care who, or if, you marry (unless you happen to have a wedding where there is dancing UNTIL NINE THIRTY! in which case, they plead that you marry and invite them to the wedding- see notes about Unkee's wedding if this has confused you). They love to see people happy (see my last diatribe about Will's favorite conversation), if you are a man and want to marry a man, they are all for it (especially if you have dancing UNTIL NINE THIRTY!). And we applaud that because, really, why should we be allowed the easy, "We've been married for 20 years," and they will have to use up all the oxygen in the universe to say, "We've been domestic partners in a legal union for 20 years." Seriously, California? You are going to make them say THAT stupid ass thing? What is the big deal here?

So you don't like gay people- then don't be one. So you don't like gay marriage- then don't have one. Period. But why is it so hard for you to let other people do what you don't even want to do? How does their happiness take away yours? It's a rhetorical question, I know. There is no way I can convince you to change your mind and no way (in hell) you can change mine, so I guess I just leave this here as a way to voice that I personally completely and totally disagree with the passage of Prop. 8 and will be calling today to see what I can do to help overturn it in court.

But at least the eggs I eat will be eggs layed by married chickens. Oh. Wait. I guess I read Prop. 2 wrong. Chickens can't marry, either. They can now just lie down, turn around and stand up in their domestic partnerships.

We've been busy for Halloween! Signa and Marc went to a Halloween party and to escape the wails of, "No! Will Halloween party, too!" we had our own Halloween party. We made mummy pizzas (English muffins with string cheese draped over it to melt like mummy wrappings and olives for eyes), pumpkin cupcakes and spooky popcorn (okay, just popcorn, but I told him they looked like ghost poop). We did crafts, like the hanging Happy Halloween spider that only came with six legs and I knew Signa would have a hissy fit and talk about it for her whole lifetime like the time I made her wear shoes without socks because the outfit was cuter that way and she got blisters and every time we pass the park near Gramma's where it happened she brings it up even though that was three years ago, so I made two extra legs for the damned freaking spider craft.

For Halloween, Will was Darth Vader and Signa was a Dalek from Doctor Who. We went to our downtown Halloween parade on Wednesday and it was a lot of fun. Few people knew who Signa was, but it was a great costume even if you didn't know. And the cool part was that if they knew what she was, they thought it was amazing and really even more cool than cool. On Halloween itself, trick-or-treating, no one knew who she was, but again, it didn't matter because everyone thought it was still amazing.

For the cute/funny stories, Marc is taking a sculpting class and needed a rubber band to wrap around his tool case. He courtesy-asked Signa if he could take one from her jar as he took one from her jar (she's saving up to make a rubber band ball ala PeeWee Herman). Seriously, within 1.2 minutes of returning home from class, Signa had taken that rubber band from around the box and returned it to her jar. Without saying a word. It was just gone when he turned back around and she was calmly returned to the sofa.

We went to a play date at the park and one of the little boys brought his tricycle. To show how bad we are at taking the kids out for bike rides, William sat on it and then said, "Needs batteries."

Speaking of Will, when he gets in trouble lately (which is kind of a lot), he cries a so very sad cry and looks at you with the saddest face you have ever seen in your whole life and says, "But Momma, I'm your friend!" If he weren't so very bad (think, hitting, fighting and general wreaking amazing havoc without any fear of any repercussions), it might actually get to me. Instead I laugh evilly and say, "Not right now you aren't buster!" (Okay, I don't, but sometimes I want to).

William is obsessed with Happy these days. Here is a typical conversation:

“Will’s Happy, Momma. Momma happy?”
“Yep. Momma’s happy.”
“Daddy happy?”
“Yep. Looks pretty happy to me.”
“Dister happy?”“Sister’s happy, too, BuhBuh.”

It’s actually really cute how he does it.

This will only be funny to those of you who like Mystery Science 3k. There is an episode where they spoof the Amazing Colossal Man. Joel acts like he’s the amazing colossal man, Glen, and says, “Oh, I’m huge! What kind of a sin does a man have to commit to get to be so huge?!?!” And he throws the backs of his hands down on the table for emphasis. This morning when I came out of the tub, Will was playing in the kitchen with a bee from the Bee Movie. I heard, “Oh, huge! Sin and huge!!!” in the same voice as Joel doing his Glen impersonation.

It also cracks me up how he introduces himself to everyone. He walks up, taps himself on the chest and says, “Name William. Daddy name Marc. Momma name Debbie. Dister name Digna.” And he’ll shake their hand and say, “Hello, (whatever they said their name was).”

He is such a little man.

First conversation with Signa this morning-

Me: "Wow! You are so smiley this morning! That's what I like to see!"
Signa: "That's because I had a good dream."
Me: "Tell me! What was it about? Candy? Webkinz?"
Signa: "No, I had a dream that the Creature from the Black Lagoon came to our house and I got to feed him."

Only in our house would this be a GOOD dream...

I feel that I’m pretty opinionated- I’ve got an opinion on just about everything; I just don’t share it with everyone all the time. Which is why bumper stickers are beyond me. Is it to have people treat you differently (Oh, he’s got an Obama bumper sticker, so I won’t swear at him after he cuts me off)? Or is it to change people’s minds (Oh, that guy has a cool car and drives nicely- huh! A McCain bumpersticker?!?!? I was going to vote democrat this time, but now I’ve changed my mind!)? Some seem like they are good warnings. NRA for instance. Keep far away. Far far away, as they can and WILL kill you. Same with the God-fish sticker people.

To me, it’s almost like the death penalty- what is the purpose? If you give me a good purpose that makes sense and is backed up by facts, I’ll gladly glue those puppies all over my car and delight in the news when San Quentin kills off another convict But really, it just doesn’t make sense.

On a totally different note, while watching the debates, Signa said, "Daddy, how come that white guy sounds like he's just making up stuff?"

Dear Mrs. Magilicutty,

You have now turned six. My six-year-old little girl. It’s amazing that you could be six already when it seems like just yesterday that you were saying, Tickabah and scotching around on your butt as your only mode of movement. This was a very special birthday for you (or maybe me), as this is the year that you can truly understand how much we adore you and appreciate you and love you. So we decided to reward you for not only your birthday, but also the amazingness that is you with a surprise trip to Disneyland.

You woke up on your birthday with such joy at just being you and having a birthday and being in a hotel. Yet you still had no clue that you were at Disneyland, since we arrived so late at night and you were asleep. So we let you revel in birthdayness and then you opened your gifts to find Disneyland tickets. And then you found out that you were going RIGHT NOW and the happiness and joy on you face and in your eyes was worth all the money in the world (which is pretty much what it cost to go to Disneyland for three days).

Anyway, Signa, you are the best daughter, child, friend, and person that I can imagine. I’m proud of you each and every day and cannot believe how lucky I am to have been given a chance to not only know you, but to be in your family. You are so sweet and kind and loving and such a wonderful sister and helper. I love how smart you are and how innocent, too.

You know that the best present I ever got was you on your birthday.

Love,
Momma