Did you know the heavy metal band Scale the Summit will be playing SXSW Wednesday night at 1:20AM (well, really, Thursday morning) in a crowded, downtown bar called The Mohawk ?

Well, for all of you Parents With Kids, I might as well give the schedule of the astronauts training for the next  Space Shuttle mission. It might be interesting, but definitely not something you can do yourself.

When I look at the SXSW schedule on-line, with the thousands of bands that play in hundreds of bars, it makes me dizzy. So, I have simplified things. Here is my Parents With Kids version of the SXSW music schedule:

Auditorium Shores
Free Music! Food! Arts and Crafts!
Saturday, March 20, noon – dark
Featuring bands you might not know but will have fun seeing anyway

If you have older kids who aren’t a flight risk, you could find more that is all right for kids and doesn’t require a badge. Here are some ideas…

Waterloo day-time in-stores
KUT’s day-time showcase at the Hilton
KGSR’s day-time showcase at the Four Seasons
More evening shows at Auditorium Shores

It doesn’t have to be late at night (or super early in the morning) to have fun and having kids doesn’t mean you have to stay home. I hope you get a chance to catch a show or two.

Buttercup is walking. It is oh, so sweet. What does it feel like for her, to mostly see the bottom 12 inches of the world, well, that and the ceiling, for a whole year, then be able to stand up and walk around on your own, exploring a whole new universe?

So, I’m helping Sparkles on the toilet. She has just pooped and peed, which everyone is very excited about. I help her down and she is touching her toes so I can wipe her bottom. I finish the job and look up to see Buttercup standing at the side of the toilet.

She has a wad of wet toilet paper in her hand.

She has her hand in her mouth.

There is only one way that toilet paper could have gotten wet.

Ahhhhhhhh, grosssssss!!!!!!!

Buttercup walks, but there is a lot left to learn about the world between the bottom 12 inches and the ceiling. May I have the patience to help her learn. May I have a quick eye and be extra careful when we are near a toilet.

I needed to be at work, Buttercup was sick and Noel had an orthodontist appointment. Sophisticated engineering is required at a time like this and I was like the downhill skier making record time until she crashes at the bottom of the hill just before the finish line.

Blue Eyes got Noel and Sparkles to school and I cuddle with Buttercup. Then I pick up Noel, meet my in-laws at the orthodontist, switch cars (you know, because of the car seats), my in-laws take Buttercup, I wait at the orthodontist, then bring Noel back to school. I might just be able to catch up on my work (I work from home) if I get started fast….

Then I realize two unfortunately-very-related things. One is that I really, really need to go to the bathroom. The second is, as I pull into my driveway, driving my Father-in-law’s car, I realize I really, really, really am locked out of my house.

My ski tip catches the gate and I land hard, tumbling down the hill.

It took a while to recover. I went to the bathroom at a neighbor’s, but then, you won’t believe this, I lost my Father-in-law’s keys.

Now I am stranded and locked out. I thought that was funny. Well, funny in the way that made me say G$%  D^$*& a lot.

While it is true that I am sometimes a world class skier, I have a unique ability to lose keys. Ask Blue Eyes, he can tell you all about it. I should be studied by brain scientists so they might understand how I can otherwise function normally.

But in my defense, my Father-in-law’s car has one of those new cars where you don’t use the keys to start the car. As long as the keys are somewhere nearby, you can push a button to start the car.

Now, let me tell you, this is a VERY bad idea for people like me who have a unique ability to lose their keys. Since you don’t have to keep track of your keys at two key transition points – when you start and stop the car – all this does is give me a thousand new ways to lose my keys.

I am now four hours behind on my part-time six-hour work day.

I try not to panic.

I push the button to start the car.

The car starts.

Is it better or worse that I the keys are so close, but I still can’t find them?

I frisk myself, feeling every possible pocket in all of my clothes. I take everything out of my purse. I search the car, ah, there they are. I was wearing a jacket earlier, I had thrown the jacket into the back seat, the keys are in the pocket.

I drive to Noel’s school and call her to the office to bring her house key. She thinks that is funny. She had trouble keeping track of her key when we first gave it to her, now she was helping me get back into the house.

My 8:00 start time for work was now 12:30.

So, today, I lost my keys and I lost the gold. I don’t know what to say about that. I’ll keep doing the downhill. I know I’m going to crash some times. I’m good at other things and it all balances out somehow. I will try to remember the good things and the balance the next time I realize I’m stranded and locked out when I need to go to the bathroom.

Cake and ice cream. Singing Happy Birthday. Opening presents.

Buttercup turned 1 yesterday.

She walks. She talks. (Well, not in English, more in cries and yelps, but she definitely knows how to ask for a banana.) She plays with babies, holding them, hugging them and patting their back to put them to sleep. She plays with Sparkles, watching her, doing what she does, wanting what she has, some times getting knocked over by her, other times sharing hugs and kisses.

Congratulations, Buttercup. You have grown up so much from that first night in the hospital when you wanted to be held all the time. I can’t wait to see what is next.

I felt like that some today. Nothing special really. The feel of something wet against my skin just after picking up Buttercup onto my hip, then seeing the brown, wet stain on her pants. Setting Olympic-worthy records for distance and coverage for a knocked-over cup of milk. The drama of sweet and lovely parent-and-child bonding moments intermingled with bouts of unexplained, hysterical tears.

Just a regular day.

But so different.

So different than my time in Minneapolis, when I was out of town for work. Work itself had been hectic, but after that I could eat or shop or work out or write or read a magazine. I slept all night every night. No one cried. No one spilled milk. No one pooped a runny poop in their pants.

By the end of the week, I walked with a lighter step. I smiled more. I made conversation with strangers in the elevator. I felt like a small child on Christmas morning when I got to the airport early to go home and I had a whole extra hour all to myself.

Now I’m back in the middle of my regular life. More so even, because Blue Eyes is out of town this week. But I’m going to remember that feeling of lightness. I’m going to remember it and try to get back there now and then. The young kids make it harder, but not impossible.

Some people thought the Millenium Falcon was a piece of junk and who would have thought it could do Light Speed at all? Maybe I can get back to my own version of Light Speed now and then, avoiding the TIE Fighters, smiling along the way.

I came back to the hotel from the office today and saw a girl laying on a bench with people hovering around her. She must be hurt. I wonder if she is all right. I get closer.

The people hovering around her are applying her makeup.  Very fancy eye makeup and face-paint letters on her cheeks. Three people are working at one time and she is laying still, so they can work. I’ve never had so much attention on my makeup. Holy cow, I just started wearing lipstick again since Buttercup was born.

I’m glad she is OK. It is fun to see random sights in the open spaces. Just 24 more hours and I’ll be home with my husband and my girls. That will be even more fun.

In my deep, long slumber, I had this dream. I was seeing a doctor and she has my test results. She was calm and serious. She said I had smithergens. Hmmm, I thought, smithergens.

That’s all I remember.  I looked up smithergens on the Internet and it doesn’t mean anything, the firsts hit was for Smithereens, a band I saw play in Houston about twenty years ago. I must be doing all right if my only condition isn’t real.

I’m heading home tomorrow, it will be good to be home.

Sparkles hosted her first tea party today, serving chocolate ice cream, peas, bell pepper, orange, tomato, bagel and a cookie. The two babies who attended enjoyed themselves a great deal, but seemed a little tired or to be having back problems, it wasn’t clear which. The home furnishings and place settings were less traditional, showing the casual and spontaneous style of the host. Everyone involved is looking forward to more tea parties in the future.

Do you know that moment, the one where you tell your kids “It’s time to go home now” and your heart races just a bit and time seems to slow down while you wait for the answer, while you wait to see if they believe you, that Yes, It Is Time To Go Home Now.

Because Sparkles, Buttercup and I are at the Texas Memorial Museum on the Univeristy of Texas campus and if Sparkles decided it wasn’t actually time to go, it wouldn’t be easy to get home. (Buttercup is easier to convince, because she isn’t walking a lot yet, and I’m carrying her in a wrap.) I give Sparkles the 5 minute and the 2 minute warnings, but sometimes she decides that she must stay wherever we are and while she is still 2 (and for a while longer than that), I get to decide when it is time to go.

My backup, backup, backup plan is that I can carry my two girls. With Buttercup in the wrap and Sparkles in my right arm like a sack of potatoes while she is kicking and screaming, I can carry them both to the car if I need to. But when we are inside the museum and the car is outside in a parking garage and I’m not in great shape for carrying fifty pounds long distances, it makes me a little nervous.

I don’t let Sparkles see me sweat. I tell her with matter-of-fact and confident voice, that it is indeed, Time To Go. She doesn’t like this part. She doesn’t like to leave when she has found a place she likes.  Who does really? She is giving me that look, the one that says she is on the fence about this, it could go either way.

I have found it is easier to divide the trip into smaller parts, ones that she can see. I ask her, ‘Hey, do you want to ride the elevator?’

She can see the elevator from where we are and she likes that idea. Back on the ground floor, she is having doubts about leaving the Great Hall with the flying Pterosaur soaring above our heads.

I ask her, ‘Hey, do you want to see some horses?

She likes that too and we head outside. There is a long walkway down a set of steps and she is having fun with them, half skipping and half running.

She sees the statue of the horses and likes them a lot. We have more fun heading back up the steps and then we turn into the parking garage. It is all good now.

I like going places with the girls. I’d rather end up in places that might be difficult than staying home where we are well contained by walls and doors. I’d rather have Sparkles be in a situation that might be hard for her and see her make good choices. Making these little bitty good choices for every day things will give her more will power when something more difficult comes around.

The museum was nice. It is a good size for small kids, taking about an hour and it is free. (Well, except for the parking garage, which is $5.) Sparkles didn’t understand much about the fossils from different time periods and the biological diversity of Texas, but she liked looking around and asking questions. In the picture at the top of this post, she is learning about prehistoric fish. This Saturday, the museum is celebrating Darwin Day. That sounds like fun.

It is a dance, Sparkles testing her independence and me getting us home in time to make dinner. It takes some fancy moves sometimes, but we mostly make our way around the floor without incident and we have some fun along the way. Yes, my sweet girls, it’s time to say goodbye to the dinosaurs and make some dinner. It’s time to go home now.

You should have seen us, Blue Eyes and I, out on a Friday night past 9. Our neighbors invited us out, they have little kids too and all of us had babysitters. Our dancing plans didn’t work out, so we ended up at the Cactus Cafe to see the Asylum Street Spankers. I liked their songs, but I liked their performance even better. They were fun and funny and had a great energy about them. Wammo told great stories about lunch boxes and beer. Christina Marrs’ last song was naughty, more naughty than I get at my naughtiest and she was on stage with her clothes on.

I loved the Catcus Cafe too, it is an intimate setting, you can see the expressions on the faces of the musicians, you can hear every instrument separate from the others, it feels like you are in your living room. And besides that, it is the perfect place for the 40+ year old music fan, with comfortable chairs, shows that don’t start too late and good coffee in case you are worn out from the kids.

A few days later, I saw the story that the University of Texas is considering closing the Cactus Cafe to save money on their budget. Wow, this got me to thinking.

So many great people have played there so many times, Lyle Lovett, Townes Van Zandt, Steve Earle, Shawn Colvin, Kelly Willis, well, I could go on and on. A venue with that much history feels more like a person, like a good friend who always remembers your birthday or a favorite park where your kids played when they were young. It would be sad to lose the Cactus Cafe.

Well, some say, it isn’t the top objective of the university to provide live music to the 40+ crowd. You have to be drinking age to get in, so most students can’t use it at all. Well, not all UT students are eighteen, I was twenty-six when I was a student there, and how about those graduate students? Older students are people too! And as John Kelso pointed out here, it isn’t like this is the only place on campus that attracts non-students, the 100,000 capacity Royal-Memorial Stadium isn’t built just for students.

Well, I say, who is running this place? It is full every time I go and the cover charge is pretty high and they sell drinks, so how exactly does this place not make money? Maybe some students from the UT’s business school could get together with students from KVRX, the college radio station, and help out. There should be a way to make money from this.

There is an effort now to raise private funds to keep the Cactus Cafe open or maybe relocating it to the Alumni Center, more info is here. I hope these efforts work, because Blue Eyes and I might get out after 9 more when our kids are a little older, and it would be nice to have a place to go with comfortable chairs, early shows and a nice cup of coffee.