Smart Sisters

An announcement from this sister over here on the left coast...

2008-03-04T13:21:00.000-08:00

This could really be life altering for some of you, I'm sure, so don't be shocked. I'm quitting. Not smoking, or living, or that job I don't have. I mean I'm going to stop blogging for a while. Maybe a month or six, and then I'll likely come running back with a million things with which to spout about. That's not to say the BLOG goes down, because my sister, the more erudite one, isn't putting her voice on hold. But for right now I just need to stop. Since I'm sure you're dying to know why, so I've got a few reasons for you.

First of all, and this reason probably gives away my age more than anything, I'm still a little weirded out not knowing who in my real life is reading my junk. I *love* that people I don't or can't keep in touch with via email or phone (or that stamp-envelope thing that no one does anymore), but it's still odd when I don't know they're there and it turns out I'm talking to them. A comment from time to time letting me know who's out there would help, but I think I'm just not used to the anonymous-but-not-really thing. (Side note: Thanks to those of you who *do* comment, and this is not a guilt trip to those of you who don't, it's just an observation.) I guess I sometimes want a real dialogue about stuff, which is fine, but this is not the venue for that, I'm learning. It'd be one thing if I was truly an anonymous blogger and no one in my real life knew who I was, but then that would take out some of the fun of it anyway. Obviously I'm no MySpacing-social-networking-with-people-across-the-globe chick. It's a good thing I wasn't born 20 yrs after I was (and right now my mother is agreeing with me more than any of you). I don't think I'd make it as a teenager today for a variety of reasons but this internet thing is one of them.

Second, I feel like my posts have become, as my sister would say (although she hasn't because unlike me, she's too polite), a bit of a one-note wonder. I don't really like that super-opinionated side of myself and for some reason it seems like what I resort to when I'm in posting mode. So basically it's exposing the yuckiest side of myself for a bunch of people I know (maybe, or maybe not)... not a good combination. I know I'll never be this good as a writer (for example), but it'd be nice to feel like I was a little more than a sarcastic griper.

Thirdly, I'm trying a little experiment with myself. I'm limiting *my* screen time. I've decided to cut way back on the time I spend in front of a cursor. Initially I thought I'd try a living offline altogether, but I've quickly realized how close-to-impossible that is in today's world. It's hard to bank, look up directions, find a recipe, research whatever medical issue comes your way, etc without internet access. But being in front of a screen puts me into such a trance that I completely ignore whatever's happening around me, which this morning involved paper, glue sticks and the kitchen wall. Had I not been reading the headlines online, I kinda sorta think I could have nipped that in the bud. It's not that this blog itself takes up so much time that my kids are out foraging for berries for dinner, just that it's hard for me to have enough downtime to do this, and sleep and do all the things I'd like to do.

That's the crux of it really, I have a lot that I want to do and when I get online I end up spending more hours goofing off than finishing a project would have taken. For example, I would love to have a few more photos in albums, even though I'm not nearly as crafty as this girl. I want to learn how to sew, even though I'll likely never make quilts as lovely as she does. But as it is, I just am not organized enough to get it all done in the 24 hours my globe spins in.

I often end up leaving sleep out of my life when there's more I want to do. If my choices were to sleep or stay up late watching something online or reading about some oddball on wikipedia, you can bet there'd be a blue glow in the house. And the thing is, although I don't *think* I need much sleep, the fact that I almost cried at my son's preschool conference (which was far from negative, traumatic, surprising or sad) is telling me otherwise. And the fact that I was so short with him for not getting on his seat belt in a right-now kind of way this morning tells me that too. And the fact that I wanted to scream at the woman working in a store I went into recently because (if you can believe this horrifying story) she asked me if she could help me when I had only just entered the store a nanosecond prior. (That does really annoy me, but still. It's like I could feel my blood pressure rising instantaneously.)

That is probably the biggest reason. I want to see if I can stay off the computer for 23 and 1/2 out of the day's 24 hours and if I am a happier, less exhausted person at least in part because of that cutback. I will check my email but only for essentials so that I don't end up with 4.5 billion offers for pharmaceuticals in after a week of not loggin in. But I won't surf the net aimlessly, I won't be checking all my favorite blogs religiously, I won't look at airfares to places I've never been just for the why-not of it. I'll be as offline as I can be, just to see if my mood lightens and my patience with my dependents increases.

I am particularly looking forward to extra sleep, I know I need it. But I'm also interested to find out if I actually *can* stay away from the computer, or if there's a level of addiction involved here. And if staying away makes me a more tolerable person to be around (not tolerant, tolerable, I said). Oh, and one more thing, in case the emotional volitility of a few paragraphs ago didn't give it away, I'm pregnant. One more reason to get more sleep.

So keep checking in because prrrof will continue to enlighted the masses (right, prrrof?!). We're a fortunate species that that isn't left up to me to do. Although it would be one more reason for me to keep quiet a lot longer!

celebrating presidents?

2008-02-18T17:48:00.000-08:00

What Presidents' Day meant at our house:

*For my 3-year-old, it was about a trip, or having extra clothes, or anticipating an accident. He diligently packed a backpack with pajamas this morning and wore it around. "For Presidents' Day, momma!"

*For my 5-year-old, it had something to do with on-foot transportation: "Mom, for Presidents' Day, do we go on a walk or on a hike?"

Huh? I'm confused too.

*For my DH, it meant working.

*For me, it meant a luxurious 3rd weekend day, a scream-filled afternoon with the kids' good buddy over here, and the chance to leave them for an hour this morning and run a few quick errands. Lovely!

Having nothing of value to write about, LCS posts anyway

2008-02-06T21:51:00.000-08:00

Since my dear sister is being so tightlipped about her Barack-in' experience (get it??), I'll just cover that post. Additionally, I have nothing of any intellectual value to add to these internets, (get your shocked self off of the floor, reader!) however I can't stop from sharing anyway.

Boy #1's preschool had a free vision test courtesy of our local Lions club. I asked him what the lady said about his eyes, and he said (in all seriousness), "Oh, they were mostly clean except for a little dust right here" (pointing to the outside corner of his eye). So I guess that's good.

In other health related news, the great Golden State is now requiring all kindergartners to have a dental exam prior to school*. That seems a little weird. I mean, I'm all for clean teeth, and I'm lucky enough to have a 4-year old who LOVES our wonderful tooth doctor, but is it really necessary to go to school with dentist approved teeth? That kinda sorta seems over the top. Reader? What thinkst thou?
*There is a waiver but there has to be a medical reason why you didn't have the kiddo's teeth looked at by a professional.

My mom is coming to visit for a week, starting in 108 hours. The kids are excited, but I'm simply over the moon!! Conversation with another adult for more than 2 days a week! Another person to distract screaming banshees who only scream when a telephone must be answered! Someone to push the swings! To get kids into carseats! To go grocery shopping! To... I'll stop. But you catch my drift. It's like a week of having a nanny who actually is in love with your kids. Fan-tastic.

I keep having this thing where I read a really, really good book and then can't remember what it was about or the author or the title. So know that I read a really good book last week. But I do remember (after pondering this for some time now) that it was called *Symphony* and I have no idea who the author was. It was about Hector Berlioz (a Romantic composer) (that's a composer from the Romantic Period, not some guy who writes love songs) and how he married an actress (which was a scandalous move in the 1800's in France) and how his life unfolded. I found it really interesting and a fun read. (The author's name just came to me, it is Jude Something. Not Jude Law, although that would really have caught my eye. Jude Morton maybe?? Ah, well, it'll come to me.) And I guess it officially makes me a nerd if I completely got sucked into a book about a guy who composes symphonies.

And now, for the biggest news in our house!!!!! I've saved the best for last in this post!

Ladies and Gentlemen, WE NOW OWN A DISHWASHER!!!!

(drumroll and ecstatic cheers)

Yep, that's right. For two years now, I've been earning these dishpan hands, and now dinner cleanup takes about 10 minutes. I seriously should have written commercials for these handy devices in the 1950's, because I tell you, a dishwasher is just about the 8th wonder of the world if you ask me. Amazing. I'm not even as annoyed when there are five sippy cups on the kitchen table and two kids with cups in their hands. This thing rocks! The other cool thing about it is that the kid at Best Buy who sold it to us (who I daresay was about 12) gave us a discount since his dad and my DH work together, so we got it for under 300 clams! Then we had to have our 1967 house plumbed and wired for it, which didn't even take much more effort than we thought, and voila! LCS's family has officially entered the new millenium. (Actually, I think it's more like we entered the old one, but better late than never, right?!) Now if only someone could invent a bathroomwasher. That would completely rock my world!

In conclusion, my husband would like you to notice that this post is an example of me having nothing to say. And he has chosen to stay married to me for over 7 years. That he will put up with me is amazing. The 9th wonder of the world, he is, right behind the dishwasher.

Politics

2008-02-02T10:31:00.000-08:00

...you've been warned. Actually, this isn't really a political post--just a "wow, I just had an experience shared with 13,000+ others in my small Hip City" post. Look!

That's Barak Obama. In our little state. Drawing huge crowds. Amazing.

Some thoughts for you to have

2008-01-23T22:46:00.000-08:00

A few things:

My pal over at j.m.b. had a link to this which I thought was interesting since I'm somewhat presidentially wavering. It's a survey that aligns your views to those of the candidates. Interesting. And no, I'm not telling you who was my winner according to this survey. Wouldn't you love to know?
Heard a spot on the radio about China and the need to push and shove and elbow your way into the subway. The reporter said that while you are on the platform a Chinese announcement is telling you to be courteous and allow others off before you get on, but if you did that you'd never get on at all. Add that to the things I've heard and read about life in the Chinese countryside and I don't think the words "bucolic" and "pastoral" must exist in that language. I get stressed just thinking about it.
While I was running into the grocery store during a downpour the other day, I was reminding myself of how good we have it here in this country. Some people have to make a life-threatening journey to the market only wait for hours for a few loaves of bread and then go home to no electricity, no running water and no end of that life in sight. We don't know what inconvienence is like here. Say whatever you want about the politics and policies of this country, it's darned easy livin'. I feel fortunate for that.
Our main computer is having a little virus problem and since I'm as technologically sound as an 8-track tape, I took it to the Geek Squad. Let me first say, my congratulations to the person who came up with their schtick. (If you don't know, they are "agents" and act all FBI-ish, even calling their counter area their precinct, which is funny to me. I guess when they first opened they had to add some color to their cars because they looked too close to official in black and white. I must say I'd fall over laughing, however, if real FBI agents started driving VW Beetles.) Anyway, they have been nothing but helpful and even though I was there for 1 and 1/2 hours today (with two kids in tow no less) I left feeling fine. So they are doing something right. They charge an arm and a leg and have that super-annoying understaffing thing at times wherein your agent is talking to people on the phone and you and filling out some other person's paperwork simultaneously, but somehow I wasn't totally angry, which that kind of stuff usually makes me. Maybe I'm getting to be more Zen than I thought. (With regard to the two kids along with me thing: I had TONS of snacks and we went to Best Buy's home theatre section and watched movie clips for about an hour. Good work, Best Buy. You and Gymboree win the easy-to-shop-here-with-kids award.) That's all on that.
Which leads me to why there are no pictures forthcoming. I don't have the right program on this machine and won't be installing it because I don't know how. So there.
Volvo, on the other hand, is not on my good list as far as the overall company goes. We bought our car 4 yrs ago basically because of the Volvo safety record and I really do love it. It's spacious, drives nice, super-easy with car seats, the kids sit far enough away that they can't poke each other, etc. But the airbag went bad, so we took it in to the dealer. In mid-December. First we were told there was a nation-wide back order on airbags. From the company who prides themselves on safety, that seemed a little odd. But after two weeks of driving around my death trap (isn't it funny, not so many years ago there were no airbags, now I consider them as necessary as tires...), the part came in and I took in my car so they could "pop it in", as my service advisor said. Right. Should have known, first he came out to tell me it'd be a different color (huh?) than the rest of our interior (it'd be tan, our interior is grey), then he came to tell me it wouldn't fit at all. So he got me a rental car which was two door and smelled like a New Jersey bar (translation: very smokey). It was great fun putting two car seats in that puppy. So the next day we took that back and got a 4 door with less smoke smell. We've now had the rental for two weeks and the part just came in and they discovered we need.... another part. Which will add $500 to our bill. So, all in all, good times in the transportation department. The car should be done tomorrow. But then again, I've heard that before.
With regard to the above mentioned issue, did you know a car manufacturer does not have to provide parts to their car after it is 10 years old? So if in 3 years our airbag goes bad, Volvo can say, "Sorry. We don't make that any more," and we get to decide whether to (a) sell our car to another sucker with no airbag, (2) drive a car with no airbag, or (3) donate or otherwise junk and otherwise perfectly working car because Volvo doesn't want to keep their cars on the road. Weird.

That's more of my thoughts than you really needed, but I'm just here to share. Hope you are all well and not needing to swim around town like we are.

Travel fun

2008-01-14T11:20:00.000-08:00

We're back! And we survived, all of us, a huge trip. Some observations regarding international travel:

*Five-year-olds can find the "how to jump down the inflatable ramp when your plan lands gently and in one piece in an emergency" pamphlet endlessly interesting. I think #1 spent almost as much time with this information as she did with books.

*Our kids are great plane sleepers. I, on the other hand, must concentrate with all my might to keep the plane afloat. So I don't get much sleep (duh--don't want that plane to crash).

*I am embarrassingly, oh-so-Americanly monolingual. Europe is so not. I know a few phrases from my stint in college German, and usefully used it to ask, "Sprechen sie English?" Each time, I could use my own language and someone else had to adjust. I loved the multi-lingual announcements in Zurich and Frankfurt, and we were likewise amused at the airport workers shouting at arriving passengers in English when we arrived in Philadelphia. Our favorite: "Please make sure to have your boarding pass with your passport. If someone near you doesn't understand what I'm saying, please make sure they do." Um, okay.

*Swiss health care is reasonably priced. At least for treating a double ear infection (#1). A doctor visit, antibiotics, ear drops, and nasal spray came to about $55.

*Another language observation: There is something downright funny about Disney experienced via French. Blanch-neige et les Sept Nains just doesn't have the same ring as Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, does it? But another sign of English's inroads as an international second language: the "Honey, I Shrunk the Audience" ride/show was in English. If you spoke French, you had to listen via headphones. In your. own. country.

*We have officially consumed enough (very good) cheese to meet our family's per-capita consumption for the year, thanks.

*Jet lag is miserable coming home. Yes, I made mac n cheese for two kids, two early a.m.s in a row. As in 3:30. Yawwwn.

Life after holidays

2008-01-09T13:00:00.000-08:00

So, to play catch-up...

Our holidays were nice, filled with family (his and mine, minus prrrof since they are galavanting about Switzerland). Unfortunately, DH's grandpa died a few days before Christmas which was sad for us, but I have to say, I don't know if I've ever known anyone ready-er than he was. At 95 yrs old, he was tired and his old body didn't allow him to do many of the things he once loved. Most of his friends and peers are gone, of course, so there aren't that many around to remember with him. But he loved his kids, his grandkids, his great-grandkids and his great-great-grandkids. He never got old and sour, at least that I saw. We'll miss him.
After torrential rainfall (and as a former Pacific Northwesterner, my use of "torrential" is highly qualified), our playroom got somewhat flooded. DH has fixed and is still fixing it, thankfully, but we're moved out of that space for a few more days. Which meant toys that used to be in that room are now spread out over our 1200 square feet, added to which is the new Christmas loot. Yikes. I take some comfort in knowing whoever decides to break into our house will surely break bones trying to navigate around the Lincoln Logs, hotwheels, train tracks and other things. And it would be a real disappointment to subsequently find out that they are the most valuable things in the house.
Boy #1 has very odd hearing capabilities. I was shouting at him from one room away that dinner was ready and his reply five minutes later was "I couldn't hear you". My husband suggested I pick up a certain treat for the boys on my way home from an errand and this same boy, who was playing on the other side of the house, heard him.
News media annoys me. After Hillary Clinton's (note to reader: I'm not saying you should or shouldn't like her or vote for her or campaign for her, this is just a point of interest I'm kindly sharing with you) loss in Iowa, they declared her campaign as "floundering" and then after New Hampshire, she's once again "the front runner". That was quick. How can any campaign flounder after losing Iowa when there are approximately 49 more states to go (depending on whether one is counting Michigan and Florida because of their pushing up their primary dates and the DNC saying now they won't count, which I don't understand, but anyway.)? I just wish there were no 24 hour news channels because they have to make up news just to have something interesting to say.
My new pet peeve (which is quite petty, compared to greater social ills, but is my pet peeve of the day nonetheless): Mispronouncing common words in common ways. Like the guy at the car repair shop who was making an appointment for "Mondee, or Tuesdee if that works for you." Erk. "DAY!," I wanted to scream, "Mon-DAY!!" It's like saying nekkid or crik when the words are clearly phonetically driven to be pronounced naked (no short e sound comes from a) or creek (no short i sound comes fro 'ee'). Stop the madness and start reading people.
I had a long phone conversation with a friend from our old town, and may I say it was just what I needed. Thanks, M! There's nothing like catching up with an old friend and remembering just why she's so great and why you want to stay in touch. It was almost as good as a night of Mexican food and then listening to David Sedaris...

Since nothing else of interest is going on in my life, I'll think about posting a picture or two in the next few days. How's that for committment.

Yesterday's events

2007-12-20T13:56:00.000-08:00

Don't come here for a laugh or a happy holiday story. Today the world makes me sad

Yesterday I saw a boy of about 3 years old with a pair of jeans emblazened with the word "Hustla" and dollar signs on the leg. It made me so sick, just to think how popular culture has glamorized the ghetto life to the point of imposing it on toddlers. That was at 1 pm.

An hour later, my husband's college roommate, a Sacramento Sherriff's Deputy, was shot. By a 16-year old "hustla". According to my husband, Vu was the kind of person who'd give you the shirt off his back, just an all-around good guy. He was part of a profession that doesn't take personal safety for granted. He'd been in the gang unit for a while and had no doubt had those moments in his career where he was surprised to still be breathing. And yesterday, he didn't make it home.

In recent years, there's been a lot made of police brutality and the havoc that is created when police go bad. Think Ramparts in LA, Abner Louima's case in NYC, Rodney King, the list goes on. But what is ignored are the good guys, the ones who are trying to make a difference. Although he was a gun-toting police officer, Vu was trying to make a gang-ridden area safer and just his presence in the community was part of that goal. What is wrong with that? While I don't disagree that there are certainly bad apples just as there are in every profession, it's discouraging that so many people are willing to lump all police officers together. No one seems to report on the good cops, while all the bad cops get press.

In this case, it's hard to comprehend how many lives were shattered by this senseless event. I'm sure Vu's partner is devastated, and I can't imagine what his wife of 8 months is going through. Although I'm having a hard time sympathizing with his murderer right now, it is also sad that a 16 year old has now ruined his own life as well. Apparently he took off running when he spotted the officers, although they didn't know why. After Vu pursued him on foot, he used his 16 year old hands and fired a fatal shot.

And that is what my 3-year old friend's jeans were advertising. A lifestyle that destroys those trying to do good as well as those who for whatever reasons, social, psychological or economic, are driven into crime. So senseless.

My books, books, books

2007-12-19T20:33:00.000-08:00

Since my pal Lisa reviewed 11 books in a recent post, I thought I'd report in about a few I've read of late. Not that I'm near as prolific a reader as her (and keep in mind we have kids roughly the same age and she has a career (which I don't), has recently gotten her MFT license (which I didn't) and does yoga (which I don't)).
Anyway, I'll pretend I don't know that she does anything but read, because at least then I'm not revealed for the sloth that I am. So there. It's revisionist history, or rather revisionist present, since it's not much history. But I digress.
Book #1: The Linnet Bird by Linda Holeman.
This is another of my favorite genre, a historical fiction novel. Ooooh, I love it. And this one was GREAT. One of those people-who've-somehow-gotten-somewhere-even-when-it-looked-impossible and I didn't really hate the main character at any time. (You know the kind that are such strivers that even though they've overcome, you kind of want them to crash and burn for some reason. Or maybe that's just me.) This book is set in Britain in the 1800's and there's nary a positive thing I can say about Linny Gow's childhood. Think sweatshops of that era and abusive stepfathers. Ick. Anyway, it's a super interesting read, if you ask me.
Book #2: The Emperor of Ocean Park by Stephen L Carter.
This book is long. Really long. I am perhaps just a teensy bit less patient with books than I have been in other eras of my life, but this book was beyond detail-oriented, it was tedious. I like books with believable and complicated plots (or maybe I do, I think I do. Do I?) but this book was ridiculous. Like the main character's dad who dies and leaves a complicated plan for his son to carry out, of which his son knows nothing, and forthwith goes the book. Throw in a complicated marriage, a young boy who barely speaks and a million useless pieces and you have this book. I don't understand why it got such great reviews, quite frankly. I've read many other works that are better written (like this blog, of course), more realistic and more interesting. I fell in love with approximately none of the characters and felt a kinship to about none of them. You know how sometimes you get to know a character so well, you know what their next move will be, and even with that the book doesn't become predictable? Well, not this book. I had no idea why the main guy did 99% of the things he did and yet after about 400 pages, I really didn't care. At. All. Someone tell me what is so great about this book because I certainly can't tell you.
Book #3: Gone with the Windsors by someone I can't remember.
This was a silly little book with a very silly name, but a fun read. If you are at all fascinated by royalty of the 20th century, you'd find this interseting. It's about the love affair between Crown Prince (and then King) Edward (I think that was his name) and Wallice Simpson, the divorced American as told through the diary of a friend of Wallice's. I think she's such an interesting person and he made such an interesting choice to give up the prospect of being King of England for her, when she was such an obvious social climber. If you want a light-as-a-marshmallow read, this is it. Good fun.
Book #4: Go dog Go by P.D. Eastman.
This is a current favorite of Boy #2. It's a really great book if you aren't at all interested in plot line or details. Come to think of it, it's pretty much on the other end of the spectrum from The Emperor of Ocean Park. The only issue I have with this book is that we picked it up at a yard sale and it's missing 3 pages. So at one point there are some dogs on a ferris wheel and all I know is that the narrarator is stating "Dogs going down," and I can only assume that on the previous page there were dogs going up, but once I get this work in its entirety, I'll fill you in. It's gripping, to say the least.
Book #5: Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.
The author was on Talk of the Nation today, and I liked her very much on audio as I did on paper. (You know how you might love a book, and then hear the author and think, "What a pompous twit" like I did when I heard Annie Proulx. Or maybe I was just in a bad mood, but she destroy my ability to read her books.) The book is basically the autobiographical story of her journey from a devastating divorce to travel around the world finding herself. The things I loved about it was that it was a quite painless read, although I admit to skimming some of the yoga-in-India section. I loved how she introduces her readers to the people in her book and you end up loving them all. A fun and interesting read that I couldn't put down.
I could go on, but beyond these books, I've recently read some book sthat I could put down. i got only about 10 pages into a Jane Smiley (Ten Days in the Hills, I think) and realized there was no reason to waste 5 more minutes on it. I started a book called The Crimson Portrait which had an interesting premise and setting (WWI England in a hospital for soldiers with facial injuries) but the plot basically didn't move for the first half of the book. I quit that one too. So I'm ending this report to say I'm proud that I finally am not wasting time on books that aren't "working" for me. If I don't like it, I no longer feel compelled to waste my time with it, the aforementioned Emperor not included. (In my defence, I felt like so many people loved that book, I just had to try to love it to. Didn't work.)
So there you have it. The moral of the story is: read more books. The end.

Jingle bells...

2007-12-12T11:24:00.001-08:00

We asked our oldest what he thought he wanted for Christmas. I was completely drawing a blank because he's oh-so-needy and hardly has any toys. ahem. The asking was the mistake.
First he said he'd think about it because he just wasn't sure. I'm thinking he's going to suggest a pony or a dog or something. Instead he comes out with (drumroll, please)... a violin.
"A violin?," I ask. I wasn't aware he'd been to the symphony recently so I had no idea how that popped into his head. "Do you know how you hold a violin?" I asked, to see if he had any idea how that idea popped into his head.
"You hold it up and you scrape this thing called a bow over it. I saw it at the gym on SpongeBob."
A-ha.
In a few years when he's playing with the New York Philharmonic, he'll proudly tell the first person to interview him (after his successful tenure at Julliard) that his inspiration was SpongeBob.
On second thought, I think we'll get him some Hotwheels.

A treatise on tea, or, Is that the Nyquil writing?

2007-12-09T17:11:00.000-08:00

So basically I"ve been home all day, just being sick, sick, sick. One of those my-bones-hurt kinds of sick, those my-head-will-surely-be-exploding-momentarily kinds of sick. And I'm drinking a lovely drink I'd like to share with you, our faithful audience of 1.5.

My old friend emmi (old in the friend from years ago, not friend of old age) recently posted about her love for coffee. (In a side note, I must comment on her name. It seems like I always have a few friends of the same name. When she and I were close, I was also close to another emily.* A few years later, it was Nancy. Nancy I used to work with in a restaurant, Nancy I was good friends with during graduate school, Nancy who was my supervisor at my first job. Right now, it's Jenny. I have two Library Friends named Jenny so if that is your name, please do not befriend me because it's quite confusing to my family. Thank you.)

Back to my I'm-sick-and-Emily-posted-about-coffee drivel. As some of you might know, I've gotten back on the wagon. No coffee for me. AND (this would be shocking information to my former colleagues Kim, Kim and Kim) very limited Diet Coke. I'm not pregnant, although that is when I first quit the black liquid gold. It just doesn't do me any favors. It took me 4 years to completely quit, even though it made me sick to my gut every. single. time. I. drank. it. I'm a weak, weak woman.

So I'm here to promote my latest favorite hot drink, Yogi Ginger Tea. You can get it at Trader Joe's (apologies to prrrof and other Mountain State readers) for a mere $2.99 a pack and it is delic. Just the thing when one s stuffy in one's head. (A shot of Nyquil added and you are good for the night.) The best part is (OK, maybe not the best part, but a really, really good part), it's the old-fashoined kind of tea that has a little message for you on each tea bag. Today mine was "Keep going." I like that. Short, sweet, to the point, just like me.

I would keep going, but that would completely destroy the short and sweet template I've obviously established in this blog. Sweet dreams.

* Since it seemed overly laborious to have a side note in a side note... go to Emily's most recent post and click on the etsy link and you will see quite possibly the cutest skirts I ever did see. And for a mere 18 clams! I'm not only fortunate enough to be her friend, I'm fortunate that she has good taste to direct me to sites like that.Just thought you might like to know.

I am the Ralph Nader for parents

2007-11-30T14:20:00.000-08:00

So I sent DH to Target a few days ago for a new thermometer. The one we have takes about a minute to read, and needless to say, our almost-2 yr old isn't too happy with that thing under his arm for so long, particularly when he's not feeling great which happens to be the only time we try to take his temperature.

DH comes home toting a Vicks thermometer that proclaimed "Professional Accuracy". (I guess the thermometer with semi-professional accuracy isn't such a hot seller.) More importantly, it also boasted an "8-second reading*". I was satisfied until I noticed the asterisk and should have known something was amiss.

I opened up this thing and tried it under my own tongue. After 22-seconds, I was proclaimed not feverish. Great, but what about 8 seconds? I tried it again, with the same result. So I called the customer service and an oh-so-helpful Paul tells me that although the thermometer is "accurate" after 8 seconds which is the "quick-read temperature", but the "peak" temperature isn't read until up to 60-seconds. Peak? Does my kid get more feverish the longer this instrument is under his arm? I explained that when I take his temperature, it's because I want to know if he has a fever, which translates to: I want an accurate number reflecting how hot his little body is. If I call our pediatrician and say his "quick read temperature" is 100.9 but his "peak" temperature is 104.9, I have a feeling she'll be glad I kept the thermometer working the extra 52 seconds.

But this whole thing makes no sense to me. I was really frustrating the customer non-service guy Paul because he explained it around 5 times and was clearly perturbed that I was belaboring the small issue of timing and that I couldn't understand the difference between "accurate" and "peak". He told me, "You get a temperature after 8-seconds, but you'll get the peak temperature after 60 seconds." My reply: "I just want to know his temperature in an accurate fashoin, preferrably after 8 seconds as reflected by your packaging." "Oh, you will have an accurate temperature, but it'll be the quick-read temperature and it's recommended you leave it in until 60 seconds has passed," he replied. "That makes no sense at all! Your package says 8 seconds, and yet disclaims that it should actually take longer!" I said in a very calm voice, as you can imagine. "In 8 seconds you'll have an ACCURATE temperature but not the PEAK temperature. The PEAK temperature comes after 60 seconds," he exclaimed, emphasis his. Sensing his irritation, I asked for his manager. He put me on hold, then came back to say every last manager was busy or at a meeting or somesuch other excuse. So he put me and my shocked self into a voice mail system, never to be heard from again. So voila, people, I've really stood up for the Parents of Fevered Children.

OK, it was a $9.99 item, but it's the principle of it. I don't really think it's too much to want a quick and accurate temperature, especially since I can get a not-quick and accurate temperature from the thermometer I got free from the hospital when I had Boy #1.

Or maybe it's not the principle of the thing and I just have too much time on my hands.

Packrat Help

2007-11-13T07:33:00.000-08:00

Okay, all you experienced moms and dads out there: how do you help a packrat child get rid of stuff?

#1 will be five (gasp!) very soon. She loves to draw and write, and she goes through reams (nearly literally) of paper weekly. A few weeks ago, I suggested that we clean their room up and get rid of a few things so that they might have room for a few new things that they just might get for their birthdays. Faithful readers will remember that this summer the kids caught me red handed when a broken toy spilled out of a garbage can in the garage, so this time I decided not to try to sneak stuff away.

However, involving them in it--and suggesting that perhaps we could throw away scribbled on papers, broken plastic things, napkins, empty glue containers (crazy, I know)--didn't go much better. #1 sobbed in broken-hearted betrayal. She shuddered with sorrow and worked herself into hysterical crying, saying things like "why are you doing this to me?" and "these are very, very precious, mommy" and "you are really not being nice". I eventually gave up...and so they have a drawer full of old paper, dried up markers, and broken polly pockets that will soon once again take over a corner of their room.

Any advice for how to help my funny little collector part with things?

A few items to begin the month with

2007-11-01T22:18:00.000-07:00

Yo, people, where's the chocolate?!?? These charming boys went trick or treating, and although they have plenty of sugar to speed up their already hyper-active brains, I must admit I was disappointed. Firstly, who gives hard cinnamon flavored candy to a 1-yr old? Secondly, what's up with all the gummy body parts and lollipops? Only two fun-sized Hershey bars in my eldest's pumpkin, and one in #2's. What do these people think I'm going to snack on for the next year?!!?

I got to go see David Sedaris. If you aren't jealous you are either (a) completely without a sense of humor, or (b) in possession of a sense of humor but haven't yet heard or read him. Hear or read him, people.

News from the Mothership (that would be me): The latest rage in our house, at least in our high chair, is drinking from a sippy cup with the lid unscrewed. Does it leak? Oh, yes. But Boy #2 absolutely refuses to drink unless the lid is unscrewed and easy to remove. We have approximately 2 sippy cups with straws, which he is now confined to, as the type where you have to raise it at an angle like a soda can just drenches him. Which also angers him. Where did he get this idea?

Think there's nothing on TV? Guess you haven't been to Asia lately. Human Tetris was mentioned at the gym today, and I thought it was worth a mention. If nothing else, the fashion statement it makes is simply good entertainment. (By the way, the point is to contort yourself into the shape that the "wall" comes out with, and if you don't do it early enough, you get pushed into the pool of yellow water. And to think the best the US of A could come up with is The Price is Right.)

I'm not known for driving slowly, but this really irritates me. Can anyone explain why a driver would take an expressway through town when there is a perfectly good frontage road on which to go 20 miles UNDER the speed limit? I don't get it. If I'm behind you, I'll be going the speed limit even if it puts me tantalizingly close to the spare tire in your trunk. Use that right shoe to push that rectangular piece of metal to the floor, lady. Or get outta my way.

That's me, Alert Alice

2007-10-26T22:25:00.000-07:00

Overheard at Babies R Us today:
Woman #1: Does she know if she's having a boy or a girl?
Woman #2: She has no idea.
Thought in my head: No idea?!?? Really?!!?? Does she know there are only two options?
Don't ever say I'm not paying attention to the world around me.

A not-so-catchy phrase does not catch on

2007-10-19T12:25:00.001-07:00

(First, my apologies to those who were enjoying Spinning Mud Flaps Lady. This post removes her from her pedestal, but just scroll down if you must.)

I know we are living in the world of the 2-Second Attention Span, but sometimes I think the advertising agencies who are paid gajillions of dollars to sell us stuff are trying to be too succinct which only confuses us. (Obviously if you look at the length of that last sentance, succinct-ness is not exactly my personal strong suit. But I digress...) My muse for this topic? A Metro PCS billboard in my town that has had me puzzled for the last 2 months. Literally.

Often when I drive by it, I end up saying the phrase over in my mind, trying to make sense of it. Next to Jessica Simpson (who is so excited by this ad campaign she's smiling from ear to ear):

Unlimit Yourself in LA

for no extra charge

Huh?

Do I ever limit Myself in LA? Should I limit Myself? I live about 400 miles from LA, is that limiting Me? Or is it that I should unlimit Myself in Lousiana? Again, I don't think my cell phone

would lead Me to be limited or unlimited there. (Yes, You is capitalized.)

And why LA? Why not SF? Or SMF? Or SLO? Are there really an inordinate amount of people in my town (again, 400 miles away from LA) who are feeling like they have been limiting themselves in LA?

OK, so I'm not completely bamboozled. I do have a slight understanding as to how cell phone services work. I think it's trying to convey that I could call anyone in LA (which I'm assuming to mean the City of Angels) at any time for any amount of time for no extra charge. But the silly thing is, I can already do that, so why do I need metroPCS to tell me to do that? I just think there are simpler ways of saying "buy our phone service" without creating a not-very-catchy catch phrase.

Probably my favorite ad campaign of all was for Fresno, California. Not exactly the top of the heap as far as places to visit, but the town's PR people decided on a campaign whose theme was "It's not FresNo, it's FresYes!" Makes you want to get on the next train bound for the central valley, doesn't it?

Or how about a spot I heard on NPR. It was something to the tune of "Get into a Volkswagen and let Volkswagen get into you." I guess, if that suits your fancy. But as much as I like fun cities, great cars and unlimited cell service, I won't be driving to FresYes in a VW Jetta unlimiting myself in LA anytime soon. Just say what you mean, marketing people. You get paid a lot of clams to do that.

left brain, right brain

2007-10-14T20:05:00.000-07:00

Okay: so I have no idea whether left-brain/right-brain is valid or not, but this picture in the Herald-Sun story is pretty cool.

Now, supposedly if you're right-brained you see her spinning clockwise and if you're left-brained you see her spinning counter-clockwise.

That's sort of interesting, but it was more interesting for me to see it the "wrong" (for me, counter-clockwise) way. I could only see her spinning clockwise for the longest time--until I stared at the periphery and then all of a sudden she popped around.

Entertainment when I should be doing other things...

I think I've used up all my words...

2007-10-08T20:13:00.000-07:00

...must be my problem. I talk and talk and write and write all day...and at the end of the day, there's not enough left for blogging. Hmm. So, in lieu of an actual post, here's a list of random things from recent everyday life:

*We had parent-teacher conferences for preschool today. That's right, preschool.
*I try very (and I mean very) hard to not get caught up in pushing my children ever faster. The whole early academics thing is bizarre to me.
*Yet, yet. I had a fleeting thought today where I wondered: is she on track? Will she read this year? If she doesn't, is that okay? She's 4, going on 5. Good grief.
*#1 *loves* finding things that start with the letter of the week. Sunday night she hit a bonanza, as she couldn't stop seeing things that started with G. Grampa! Grammie! Guy! Gal! Goat! She ended up taking several things for share time: a baggie of grass (lawn clippings, come on...), a green Mountain Dew can, and glue. Oh, and a list of G words she had us spell for her. She was nearly delirious with delight.
*#2 is on the verge of losing all of his absolutely adorable toddlery language, and I'm not going to remember most of it. Like hocktey-doctor (helicopter) and wif (with) and so on. Sob.
*My in-laws rule. My f-i-l does the dishes every night; my m-i-l knits very cool scarves and made slipcovers for two chairs and makes dinner. And they wonder why I want them to move in with us?
*We are approaching high holiday season here, which begins with halloween's candyfest. Halloween's *on* in this house: we pounded a large bag of black and orange m n m's this weekend. We blitz on from Halloween to birthdays to Thanksgiving to more birthdays right on through New Year's Eve. Whee!

Just another day at the office

2007-09-27T22:57:00.000-07:00

Ah. Just returned from a week of vacation, so you'd think I'd be relaxed, rejuvenated and ready to be a nice mom again. Not so.
I think I'm going to ask this blog's board of directors (didn't know we had one, didja?) for a name change... Something along the lines of Mean Mom and her Sweet Sister (guess who I am).
Feels like all I did today was gripe at the kids. Sure, I had a lot to get done (and I did get a lot done) but it wasn't one of those days that I was trying to do too much. The littlest boy got a nap. The oldest boy didn't but he did spend about an hour alone in the room with the door shut (in Quiet Time, which is our nap alternative). But this was just a day when all my buttons were pushed.
I have to admit, days like this are the absolute hardest part of being a stay at home mom. Not the days kids are sick or doctor visits or being the chauffeur to their activities. It's days like this when I'm on the phone for 30 seconds and just about get clobbered with a mini soccer ball. When I'm picking up their toys only to have the youngest in the other room pulling out clothes from the dresser. When I'm trying to get the oldest dressed and he smacks me in the face about a dozen times because he must, I repeat must, do the chicken dance while I'm trying to get his jammies on. When I'm in the kitchen and they are walking all over me. Literally. With their sweet lookin' See Kai Runs. When I say, "Could you pick up that paper you just cut into 100 pieces with your scissors?" and the answer is, "No way Jose." (Don't know where he learned that one.) These kinds of days make me scream.
Unfortunately, I do. Usually at them. Actually, I'm not much of a screamer, more a yeller. Or maybe that's even an exaggeration. I'm just a non-patient person with gainfully employed vocal chords, that's me. I struggle with how to express to them that I'm irritated at their behavior and I'm (even more) irritated at myself for not being mature enough to handle it. And the hard thing about days like this is that I have no colleagues or (in my case) patients who can make a bad day better by offering encouragement or sympathizing or by simply being adults. Instead, I have these two little people who are subject to me and my moods and who break my heart in a million pieces by saying things like, "Mommy, are you frustrated with us? It's hard being a mommy, isn't it?". Sob. On the one hand I'm proud that he's that receptive but on the other hand I wish that wasn't what he had to recept.
Parenting is just hard. Not because it's rocket science but because it's constant and you don't get a mental health day and because sometimes kids and parents just don't get along and because you don't get an objective annual review that tells you how to improve yourself . Trust me, there are tons of rewards, that isn't lost on me. But that's for another post. This post is about the hard part.
So what else can I do at the end of a day like today except spend my post-bedtime (for them) hours eating packets (PLURAL) of Hershey's Kissables (the greatest candy invented, IMHO) and watching a little YouTube for laugh or two.
So if your day has stunk (or if you just like to laugh) watch this. (There are 7 parts, and here's one of them, but watch them all. In succession with Halloween candy in hand. You'll be glad you did.)

How to remember

2007-09-12T12:43:00.001-07:00

September 11th, that was yesterday.
Today I read an account of the memorial in NYC that occurred yesterday in the rain, not at Ground Zero, but in a plaza some blocks away. I read that several hundred were there for the first hour and by the end of the ceremony there were... sixty people present. Sixty people, out of a city of millions.
At first, I was a bit appalled, to think that only sixty people found the need to commemorate the day at the ceremony. It seems that in our time, we are all having a hard time knowing how to respect sad days. Do we have a parade and wave our flags? Do we light candles? Do we read names? Do we listen to politicians' speeches, saying for the 500th time "we shall not forget" and "we'll never let this happen again"?
I don't know the answer and honestly don't have an opinion. I do know that we must remember. But we must remember like we remember the Holocaust, from a place of true respect for both the victims of the nightmare and the reasons why it happened. But how to do that?
I'm treading on thin ice here, but I'll admit, I get a weird feeling when those of us with no connection whatsoever to the World Trade Center, the Pentagon or the flight that went down in Pennsylvania discuss that horrible day. When those with no connections get all patriotic and relate it to September 11th, it starts to feel more like a badge of honor than an expression of shared grief. It feels trite. Someone I worked with at the time went to NYC with the Red Cross in the days after the attacks. She wrote, "Off to Ground Zero!" on our sign-in board like she was going on safari. I was glad she could go to render her services, but it felt like she was grandstanding more than grieving.
I can not imagine the awful-ness that day brought to the entire eastern seaboard, but especially places like Manhattan and DC and Boston... and I do want to remember and respect that day, but in a way that feels right and not just some simplistic flag-waving and yellow-ribbon wearing. I love my country, and I do fly my flag. I completely respect and admire people who are willing to leave their families and lives and fight under bad conditions. I know I couldn't do that. But September 11th itself doesn't mean the military to me.
That day can mean whatever you want it to mean for you, but for me, it means two huge buildings falling, it means a plane exploding in a field, it means terrified onlookers seeing a government building struck. It means trying to figure out what kind of story my favorite morning show was reading on the news and why they weren't being funny that day. It means arriving at work, sitting motionless with my coworkers trying to comprehend what was unfolding around us. Watching my most professional and intelligent colleague hold her head in her hands and sob. It means going to one of my patients' rooms just to watch the news with him. Witnessing one of my favorite doctors defend his Indian background to an insensitive coworker. Trying to explain for the 5th time to a patient with dementia that he was watching the news, not the Sci-Fi Channel.
I myself feel like an outsider looking in on someone else's horror. But there must be a way for all of us to be witnesses to this event, to acknowledge it for what it is and what it did to our country. There must be better words we can use. A word that means horror, sorrow, shock and disbelief. A word that means "offering support" when there is not a thing we can actually do. Something meaning respect, remembrance and honor for victims of senseless tragedy that has only brought more tragedy. I don't know what that word is, I don't know what kind of memorial there should be, I don't know what kind of ceremony. But I'd use the word, visit the memorial and attend the ceremony. Because I don't want to forget.

As Seen in My Town

2007-09-07T13:25:00.001-07:00

In a departure from my recent sentimental schlock, I present to you "Things Of Note I've Seen In My Town."

In the Things That Make Me Chuckle Even Though They Could Turn Out Badly category:

I have an irresistable urge to laugh when bad things happen, like when people fall down or walk in to light poles or other clumsy things. I don't know why these things make me laugh, I know I'm awful to get a smile on my face at another's misfortune. But it's just a weird thing and I can't control it. So, the other day we happened upon a traffic accident in the middle of a busy intersection. (Let me go no further without noting that the traffic accident itself was basically a fender bender and no one was seriously injured or died, which I probably wouldn't laugh at. Unless it was really funny.) There was a community policing unit (those volunteers or senior citizens who help out local police departments) "helping out" (I use that term loosely- stay with me) with traffic. One man directing traffic was not completely clear as to how an intersection works and while he'd wave on one lane, the left turn lane from the other direction would obey the traffic lights and he'd nearly get creamed. The best part is he was laughing his head off every time he nearly died like it was the funniest thing, which it was, except for the part that his very life was in danger. Anyway, it was kind of a hoot. He waves on the Jetta and the Hummer turning left who couldn't see him a moment ago screeches to a halt to avoid him. His community policing partner was frantic and running all over trying to remedy the situation which only added to the chaos and hilarity. I'm laughing just remembering it. I'll admit I'm likely the only one entertained by this retelling of a mundane moment but it was like the Three Stooges directing traffic. Except there were only two. (PS The guy made it through as far as I know. At least the paper said nothing about his untimely demise.)

In the Ridiculous Events That Pose As Something To Do In Our Community category:

Our library puts on some really fun evening events, like puppet shows and magicians, which my kids always enjoy. They are free, only about 30-45 minutes and they get to be about 2 inches from the performer which is likely the only way Boy #2 would ever tolerate being still for more than 3 seconds in a row. So the other weekend, I noticed they were putting on a dance contest for local teens and spectators were welcome. I've seen local folks on the sidewalks who can rock it while advertising pizza by waving a sign, so I know there to be a few good dancers in our local community. Turns out those pizza rockers weren't at the library that day. It would have been more accurate for the library to print advertisements proclaiming, "Watch As Local Teens Play Video Games. Fun for the whole family! Pack a lunch and stay all day!!" The "event" was teens playing that video game thing I've seen before called a DDR where they follow a screen that tells them where and when to move their feet. So we got to see some of our towns most unenthusiastic kids pretending to dance when really they were moving their feet to a prescribed place on a dance mat (and by that I mean feet ONLY, not any other part of them was moving). I know I'm completely an old lady now, but here's a question to parents of teens or teens themselves (because I know our readership in the under-20 crowd is real high): Are kids today so unimaginative that they can't even dance without a video game telling them how? Are they that un-organic that they can't connect music and their bodies? The only thing that annoyed me more was the fact that our library actually spent library dollars to buy two of the DDR mats and the software to play this. Oh, and while the "competitors" (I use that term loosely) were waiting their turn, they could play a similar game which was a plastic guitar with colored buttons and you push them as the screen tells you to. Absolutely astounding. I'm almost ready to boycott my library, but I guess I won't. Am I silly for being this annoyed at bored teens with no creative skills and the systems that support that? Am I ridiculous for thinking that maybe the library should be more interested in getting kids to read in the library, not just to go to the library? Tell me, I want to know.

In the People Who Should Not Be Multi-tasking Even Though They Are Bored category:

The other day I was about to turn onto a road that was being paved. At the intersection there was a flagger telling the right turn lane when they could go, since there were steam rollers and the like just waiting to flatten the next minivan. (Note: this section includes no accidents, carnage or hysterical laughing at near-death experiences.) I'm waiting my turn and I notice that the flagger (with her back to me, the only lane she's really needing to direct) has her stop/slow sign leaned up against her tush and it's telling me to stop and go slow in a non-meaningful manner. She turns to the left, I stop. A little to the right, I'm instructed to go. You catch my drift. Then she turns around and in one hand she has a cell phone. OK, I think, she could be talking to the steamroller waiting to hear when the coast is clear. But in the other hand? A cigarette. She's supposed to be directing traffic and she's smokin' and chattin'. It wasn't particularly funny (no one tripped or fell) and it wasn't dangerous (every driver I saw was capable of figuring out how to dodge large equiptment) but it was kind of surreal.

So what's happenin' in your town?

It's over, it's really over.

2007-09-03T17:50:00.000-07:00

The summer, that is. This holiday marks the end of summer and with it, the end of long, hot days with no schedule or structure.
Not that that's a bad thing. Or a good thing either. I always look forward to summer and have lamented its end since I was young. On the other hand, I've never hated school, so I didn't dread the fall and the first day back to the classroom. As a mom of a preschooler, I am so looking forward to nine hours a week of time with only one kid. But I must admit, I'm a bit saddened by how fast life is passing by.
My oldest turns 4 in a month. Four. That's how long it took to finish my bachelor's... that's more than half the length of my marriage... that's longer than I spent working as a social worker, and twice as long as it took to become a social worker (clarification: after the BA was earned). Even though I've been at this motherhood thing for almost four years, I'm still waiting for the real mom to step in and take over since there is no possible way that it's legal for me to be responsible for these two little lives. Ah, life. It just goes.
We spent the last day of summer with friends in a park, which wore out my two bear cubs completely. After four hours of sun, potluck food, boucing in a bouncy house, interfering in a teenagers-and-dads' game of volleyball and just wandering around with KoolAid grins on, they were exhausted. It was exactly the kind of day meant to give kids good memories of summer and friends.
I'll miss you, Summer. I'll miss your warm days, your balmy evenings. But I look forward to a few more colors on the trees and the brisk mornings that will come in fall. I'll miss your swimming lessons and going to the water park, but I look forward to pumpkin-themed art projects from preschool and buying decorative gourds for our porch. I loved the free time to have a whole day to go to IKEA or the zoo with friends in our old hometown, but I can't wait for school field trips and checking out the corn-maze at a local farm.
All in all, life is rich, isn't it?

Cooking, schmooking

2007-08-27T22:52:00.000-07:00

The other day I was at the gym and caught a few minutes of Rachel Ray. Although it seems a bit contrary to watch cooking shows while I'm trying to sweat out the food I just inhaled, I do really like Rachel. She's funny and sassy, and even does a few home-improvement deals as well. But the problem is, I start believing her. She had someone on who was showing how you could re-cover your couch pillows with a table runner and a embellish them with items found at a garage sale. After the 5 minute segment in which the person completely finished her pillow project, I said to myself, "Hey, I could do that." Now, I'd like to think I'm a thrifty person with a keen eye for home fashions, but I know in my heart of hearts that no table runner of mine will a pillow sham be. And that, my friends, is why TV really is the true opiate for the masses. It leaves you thinking you really can do crafty things easily and look cute doing them. After I got off of the treadmill and my laughter at myself died down*, it dawned on me that instead of figuring out how to do what they teach you on a show like that, someone should make a better, more realistic show.
After all, how impressive is it that Martha Stewart can make a meal from scratch on a 42 minute show? I mean, really. All her ingredients are premixed, she never has to look for her oven mitts, and there is not a single crying, poopy or arguing child within 30 miles of her precious souffle? She probably has assistants who make sure her oven is preheated, for goodness sakes. And speaking of heat, she's probably not so concerned about the electric bill that she is cutting back on using her AC while her oven heats up to 475 degrees.
There should be a cooking show with a sense of real life to it. Like a show where someone does laundry while cooking dinner and bathing a kid who just dumped the coffee grounds he found in the garbage can into his hair. I for one would watch that, because I might learn something about how to accomplish those things without burning the chicken, for example. Or how about a show in which someone who decides to try out a new recipe at 6:30 pm (who knows why?) on a night when her kids are over-tired and really hungry. I'd like to know how to manage a situation like that. Or a show about desserts featuring the mom who, at 10:30 pm, remembered it was her turn to bring snacks to school the next day. (The plot thickens when it turns out to be a night her husband is at work at the station, and she hasn't gone to the grocery store for 2 weeks and the theme of the class is dirt. Oh, and it'd be nice if the snack was healthy, the teacher said.) (That might have happened to someone whose blog you read, but maybe not.)
That's the problem with modern media, the people who are in control of what we see aren't down with the people. I should have them over for dinner and explain the situation, but I don't have a frozen lasagne on hand... Not only that, my pillows have never been re-covered. Or even washed, come to think of it...

*With the exception of my friends emily and jmb, it is silly to think anyone could make anything except a mess out of a table runner and an old couch pillow. Those two, however, could probably make a whole couch out of a table runner and it'd be even cuter than Rachel's silly idea. But that is for another post entitled, "Why life isn't fair: I am not talented". Stay tuned.

Myth busting for the masses

2007-08-15T20:10:00.000-07:00

Once again, I'd like to dispense my wisdom on our readership to dispel a few myths based on my nearly four years of constant companionship with the under-4 set. Sit down and prepare to be shocked... and educated.

"It takes a village to raise a child." In fact, it takes a factory in rural China. And apparently it takes lead paint to raise a factory, which is a frightening thought. I just saw today that they are adding some of the Disney Cars die-cast cars to the long list of Toys That Could Maim Your Child, which is sponsored by China. Nice.
"Your child will love this trendy toy and be engrossed in play for hours if you purchase it." Not true. What your kid really wants to play with, for hours on end, is a rain stick thing you bought at the Dollar Store. It's much more fun to beat that thing against the wall (or the closest available family member) than to learn ABCs with Elmo.
"You need more than one toy." You don't. No matter many kids you have, you will only need one toy because they will both want to play with it at the same time. We have approximately 1.5 million toys, including but not limited to parts of toys that belong with other parts which we are missing. However, our boys must, I repeat MUST, play with the same toy. I guess it helps them survive the survival of the fittest ordeal. For example, we have a lot of Hotwheels in my house (around 100, no joke). But what do they both have to play with at the exact same moment? A non-descript car that has become like the yellow jersey in the Tour de France. Whoever has possession of that car is the winner of the Toddler Wars for the day. Whoever doesn't will scream, jump, grab and scratch to gain or re-gain possession. On and on for the full 13 hours they are simultaneously awake. (An interesting side note: If one child is napping the car loses all power and is relinquished in the corner to collect dust until the nap is over.)
"Your child will learn a bunch of stuff if s/he watches these videos." Actually, I think it is great, great, great news that it took a team of pediatricians from top educational institutions to inform us that TV and DVDs actually won't make your child smarter. It will make you loopy and perhaps trigger your epilepsy if you watch the flashing lights of Baby Einstein too long, but your 5 month old will not begin speaking in full sentances as a result. Get over it, America. Your TV will not set you free.
"You only need one sippy cup per child." Tonight I had 8 sippy cups with lids sitting in my sink. We have two kids. You do the math.
"I potty trained you kids by 18 months. And you slept through the night by two weeks old." That isn't a myth per se, it's straight from my own mother's mouth. And I don't believe a word of it. As for the potty training bit, she's told my sister and I that same thing more than once and her story is consistant, so it isn't hallucinations or anything. But my 18 month old would rather play in the toilet than pee in it. I just can't bring myself to believe this was possible. And there is no way that an entire generation of women would be allowed to sleep through the night a mere two weeks after giving birth, just to have the next generation of mothers buy books like *The No Cry Sleep Solution* written by, you guessed it, the women who didn't have to worry about sleep solutions. So, mothers-of-toddlers out there, don't believe your mothers and feel guilty when your kids aren't potty trained by 18 months or sleeping by 2 weeks. For whatever reason, we children of the '70s were really good in the bed and the toilet. Just don't expect your children to follow suit.
"Kids aren't very rewarding." Actually that isn't a myth or anything, I'm just turning the corner here. As much as my kids zap my energy by the end of the day, or cause me to question the point of flapping my gums, or make me beg for more patience, or wear me out, or push my buttons, or humble me... they are also the most wonderful, funny, smart, loving, kind, creative, interesting kids I could ever have imagined. As exhausted as I am at the end of most days, I can't exactly explain just how that all melts away when my big boy looks at me (as he did tonight) and says, "I love it when you read to me, Mommy. You're amazing." But it does. And I'll get up tomorrow and do this all again for those kids because they are the most amazing little people ever invented.

Remind me...

2007-08-12T20:37:00.000-07:00

Please, tens of readers out there--if I *ever* mention stenciling again, will you remind me that

a) I am not Martha Stewart

b) Stenciling involves staying in the lines -- and paint

c) It's kinda permanent.

Okay, so it's not permanent, but after you've begun...it's a bit hard to back out. And I can never get things as straight or even as I'd like to, so I just end up feeling really frustrated.

The short story is that our kids share a room, but it's a pretty good sized room. They like sharing right now, and I imagine they will for the next few years. I wanted to decorate their room so that it was both boy and girl-like, since #1 loves pink and purple. We found some really cute coordinating duvet covers at IKEA (and curtains and a rug), and then I had the inspiration to do what you see in the picture. Good thing there are no close-ups, or you could see the blurred lines...

"Poison control, how may I help you?"

2007-08-09T18:06:00.000-07:00

You'd think that the parents of a nickel-swallowing, shirt sucking, bathtub-water-drinking 2.5 year old would learn....

Last night I was inside and DH was putting out the garbage; #2 was puttering around in the garage. He came running in and said, "mommy, smell my mouf!" I did--and it did not resonate with fruity overtones. After investigating, we discovered that he'd found the one spray bottle full of suspicious-looking brown liquid that the previous owners had left. And, of course, if you're two and a pretty curious monkey, you do what seems reasonable. Which is to stick the squirt bottle in your mouth and spray (isn't that what you do with unknown, bad-smelling liquids? I'm pretty sure that's what *we* were taught in 8th grade science class.) We sniffed and thought it smelled like lawn product--either fertilizer or weed killer. Excellent eats, all around.

So--I called poison control. I felt pretty silly saying that yes, we did have brains in our heads but yes, we'd left a bottle of unknown something within reath of a 2 year old, and no, neither of us had actually witnessed what he'd consumed. The final verdict was to go to the hospital for monitoring. Off we went--#2 was quite excited about the grand adventure of it all (fun tabs to pull off my ches? Cool! A blinking red light on my finger? Wow!)

The short of it: he's fine, nothing's wrong, we're all good (if a bit tired after getting in at 4:00 am.) But, hey, 'rents out there: put yer poisons up high!

Better late than never I guess

2007-08-07T21:18:00.001-07:00

A little funny something happened to me at the gym this evening.
Got there and the place was packed. I got on the first treadmill I came to and proceeded to try to get it going. (Aside to those of you who don't know me that well: Even though I do go to the gym a few times a week, I am a dork. I try to get started on the machines as quick as I can so as to not reveal my inner gym geek to those around me. But I digress...) I tried to go fast, go slow, go medium speed... and the machine wouldn't take my commands. After 2 minutes of trying to get the thing started (AND MISSING THE FIRST 2 MINUTES OF LAW AND ORDER BUT WHO'S COUNTING?!!!!), the woman on the machine next to me leans over all smiley and says, "I tried that one and couldn't get it to work." Perhaps she thought I looked great doing my hamster on a rusty wheel act, but I guess I'd have appreciated an earlier warning. At least then I'd have known what city the victim's parents lived in.

Another open letter, this time to the people who make things

2007-07-28T22:26:00.000-07:00

Dear People that Produce and Market things:

Thank you for your relentless interest in my opinions, as evidenced by your insistance to have me participate in your surveys. I know I'm a person with relevent ideas for these crazy times, but I would think that you might have better ways to invest your marketing budget than by calling me (almost daily) at 6 pm with a 20 minute survey about my radio station likes and dislikes or by insisting on my completing your survey simply because I ACCIDENTLY rolled over your ad with my mouse. And although I like shopping at your stores, I don't want to spend 20 minutes on the phone with a 18 yr old just so I can save 10% the next time I shop in your lousy store. You want my opinions? Here's a few.

Toys and other kid-related items:
While I am as price conscious as the next person, please do me a great favor by producing toys that don't break. For example:

Publisher's International's Story Reader: My 3 yr old loves this toy (which reads stories, as the name suggests). The only problem is, we've gone through 3 of them because they are made for careful treatment more likely of NASA astronauts than 3 yr olds. (Thank goodness for Toys-R-Us' product guarantee thing.) Great product, zero durability, which is somewhat key when dealing with the under-5 set. The lamest thing about your product is that not a part can be replaced or repaired, save the batteries. It breaks, you throw it away. Off to the landfill it goes. I'd pay a few more bucks for a toy that would last longer than 3 months or that could at least be repaired. Really, I would.
The Pit Stop from JC Penney's Christmas catalog (made by an unknown company based in Beijing): My sons received this last year and the idea is great (you build a car). The problem: after being played with for 5 minutes I have parts from a pit stop all over the house because no one on your engineering team had kids. They all assumed that the kids would politely rotate the tires instead of dismanteling the entire pit stop to use in a jousting match. A word of advice: think like a kid. I'm not talking only about eliminating chokeable items or making toys without lead. I'm talking about putting toys together with real screws so that the legs don't fall off just because you need to move it 2 inches. I'm talking about not having a cardboard sign that isn't attached to the toy in any way, shape or form, and which is also used as a frisbee much to my chagrin.

That's the basic lineup for my toys opinions: make them well and have an orangutang do a beta test before you go marketing the product to toddlers. That will orient you a bit.

Language related items:
To whomever invented our alphabet, thanks a lot. More specifically, thanks for the letter P. Really appreciate that because now my 3 yr old can call his brother a "peepee head" and say "I mean P, like the letter in the alphabet. That's what I mean, I'm not calling him a bad word, Mom." (Yes, he does that. Often.) Or he'll say "L-M-N-O-Poop. Or is it P? Which is it, Mom, I forget? Poop or P? I'm just trying to say the alphabet." (Also an oft-heard refrain, but it allows for both poop and pee so it's a bigger hit all around.) So thanks for that, Mr Roman-guy-been-spending-too-much-time-in-your-toga-but-got-to-invent-the-alphabet-anyway. Glad you got to make the alphabet decisions, that was really wise of you. Clearly YOU didn't have any toddlers in your life.

Clothing, particularly kid-related, since that's mostly where my clothing budget goes:

Start using the same yardstick. Why, Mr/Ms MBA in Fashion Merchandising, do I have to be an expert in each store, knowing who runs big and who runs small, instead of just knowing that if it says 18 months, it means the kid is X inches tall and Y pounds heavy? Why must I have to carry around more information in my brain, like that Gymboree is a little on the big side except for their sleepers or that Old Navy is a bit small or that Target tshirts can run somewhat short? I have enough to think about, trying to keep track who wants their toast diagonally cut and who'd rather swear flip flops than tennis shoes. It's not metric here in the US, if that helps clarify anything. And there's no way on this green earth that my kids will be trying on clothes in your stores to see if they fit. I'm lucky to get them on one time a day without falling victim to internal bleeding due to the fight to resist the horrors of being clothed. Truly. Find a measuring tape and stick to it. I think all your brains can work together and solve this one easily.
Regarding sleepers, particularly newborn-sized ones: make them as soft on the inside as they are on the outside. My sons' littlest sleepers must have been awful for them, with the bulky seams and not-so-soft fabric. I could touch the sleeper and feel cozy, but the inside isn't always.
Kill the tags. There is no need of them, do the Carter's thing and stamp your info on the clothes. Tags are lame and make little kids itch.
Dress my boys nicer. As one blogger put it, boys have the option of being sports stars or Little Lord Fauntleroy. I'm painfully aware of that. Take Old Navy: the little girls section is about 6 walls. The little boys: 3 half walls, all of which have jeans, none of them very interesting. I also think that under Title IX aren't boys required to have as much clothing options available to them as girls? (Perhaps that relates to women and sports, but you see my point.) As much as I adore the jeans-saggin'-and-boxers-showin' look, I'd rather not see it on my 3 yr old. Put together a few items that aren't pseudo-gangsta or ring-bearer costumes and you'll have a satisfied customer.
On a positive note, all stores should be required by law to have a TV. Gymboree rocks my clothes-buying world (and budget) by having one not just in the store, but right next to the clearance rack. So they are dialed in whereas Gap Kids gets none of my cash because by the time we make it to the right section, my baby is attached to the stroller by only one limb and my toddler is laughing riotously and trying to do tickle him.

A word on the seasonal items you all carry, just a quick reminder: it is JULY. As in the 7th month, just PRIOR to August. And ALL, I repeat ALL of the stores I have been in are clearing out summer merchandise including swim suits, tank tops, etc., to make way for cozy fall wear. Another quick reminder: it has been 100 degrees almost every day this week. I know you're anxious to get all the splendors of Fashion Week on the racks, but come on, people. Live for today! Dress for the season we're IN, not the one we hope will come! What with global warming, we might not need sweaters for a good long time. Where I live, it won't be raining for months, and coats just aren't necessary. Quit this seasonal facism and stay with the program. When in Rome, do as the Romans... when it's summer, sell what the people who are living in summer would want. Sheesh. Is this that hard?

There you have it, a few opinions in a nutshell. Whenever you need another one, just send me the 10% off coupon first, and I'll gladly provide you with my wisdom.

Sincerely,

Left Coast Sister

Sizzler is sizzlin'

2007-07-26T12:27:00.001-07:00

I first remember Sizzler as a kid; it was one of our very special "lunch out with mom" spots. We would go there with her alone--when we had to go into town"to get braces adjusted, or whatever, we might stop for lunch if we were lucky. It seemed very grown up and hushed; I loved getting Malibu Chicken and sitting in the sunroom area.

Then, I went a long time before going to Sizzler again. In college, one opened in our relatively small college town, and we went through a streak of going there for salad bars and iced tea on hot summer (and hot fall, and hot spring) days. They served iced tea then in these huge glasses, and even though it's refillable regardless of the size of the class, somehow that iced tea looms large...

Last night, we went to Sizzler because our kids had earned free meal coupons from their summer reading program. DH and I laughed at our kids' enthusiasm for the mac-n-cheese (with a side of french fries, jello-topped-with-whipped-cream, cookie, and ice cream bar for dessert!). We also laughed at the overall Sizzleriness of it all: ordering from a girl that says your order into a microphone; being waited on by another girl who performs every single waitressing duty except taking your order; lining up with the 70+ set as they ordered their senior meals. It's been at least 10 years since we've been to one, but I could have ordered without looking at the menu (and really, I did: a double Malibu Chicken dinner for me! Fried chicken patties topped with ham and swiss cheese, served with mustard sauce--nothing better.)

Isn't it a funny place?

HP Moments

2007-07-21T21:09:00.000-07:00

1. I'm in line to buy a pair of 80% off flip-flops at JC Penney, and turn around and glance behind me. A late-teen/early 20s woman is reading HP while waiting in line.

2. We're driving home in the afternoon, and I notice a college-aged couple walking back from the grocery store. She's carrying two Winco bags; he's reading aloud from HP as they walk.

3. A group of younger teens is finished with their tubing ride down the river and is waiting in a parking lot in town (a common thing here). Two are reading their HP books as they wait.

It's a pretty amazing shared cultural moment, this mass reading of HP books. V v cool.

from toddlers to kids

2007-07-10T19:53:00.000-07:00

I'll remember this as the summer our kids became friends--genuine "let's hide from mom and play a game," "I wanna do what you're doing" kind of friends. Overnight, these 2 -- one's 2.5, one's 4.5 -- are fully buddies. They play and play and play; they giggle and make up things to do. ("I know--I have an idea!" one will say.)

It should come as no surprise to anyone who knows their father that they're also learning to excel in the art of teasing. Yesterday they played all day in their play tent, and at one point, I heard some rustling. I asked what it was. #2 replied, "it's okay mommy. It's only the cranberries (which comes out more like 'cwanbewwies')" Then they giggled and giggled and rustled around some more...and later we found the bag of Starburst candy they'd smuggled in there.

Of course, they didn't figure out how to open it--so they're still not all growed up yet.

Why 3 year olds are not so great

2007-07-09T14:11:00.000-07:00

... or, "How 3 year olds can introduce humility into your life."
We've been having some work done on our house, and the other day I was cleaning off some shelves that were holding only dust as a result of this project. The yellow bottle of Pledge was a mainstay in my growing up years, and its smell brings me right home. Not so for my own kids, I've learned. When I got the bottle out, my 3 year old said, "What's that?" As if he's never seen it before.
As if.

Why 3 year olds are so great

2007-06-29T21:36:00.000-07:00

For starters, we have a pool that looks just like this...

Set me back about ten bucks at Target and although the grass tends to die under it, it's been worth it... The boys and their friends and cousins have splashed around in it, and my kids have spent the better part of June in their swimming trunks on account of this piece of plastic. But apparently I had underestimated the amazing-ness of this pool. You see, last week we went to the house of one of DH's firefighting friends. His pool looks more like this...

(Disclaimer since I know DH might read this and say "That's not his pool!": OK, this is a slight exaggeration, but not by much and it was the closest picture I could find. Moving on...)

Set him back a lot more than ten bucks for sure. Boy #1 had a great time with the other kids and his dad in the water and enjoyed the spa as well. So the next day he said how much fun he had "at those people's pool", and I said to him, "Maybe someday we'll get a pool too." He looks at me like I've lost my mind and says, "Mooooooooom, we already have a pool." Oh, how he melts my heart.

In other news, parenting is not for the faint of heart or weak of belly. Especially when a certain 17 month old throws up A LOT with no warning in his car seat on a day that is around 100 degrees. I think I'm still smelling barf on my hands. He's better though, so all's well. Although I'm not feeling too well tonight...

Summertime buzzyness

2007-06-25T08:47:00.000-07:00

My mother-in-law spells busy-ness that way sometimes, and it fits--especially for summer. It's been sweet so far: a mix of too-much-work-to-do panic with wow-this-is-great summertime moments.

Summer is that time when people ask me, "don't you have the summer off?" Of course, it's a reasonable question--I'm not teaching, and most professors aren't even on contract, so what else would I be doing in the summer? I *do* get to work slightly less in the summer, and my time is much more flexible--an aspect of academic life that I do not take for granted, believe me. I get to spend even more time with my kids--a good thing.

I also have, for work:
2 articles to fully draft
3 to revise
1 human subjects proposal to finish (if you don't know, and you don't need to, any academic research project involving human subjects -- ie students, in my case-- needs to be reviewed by a committee at my school to make sure that I'm not drawing any blood samples. This involves writing lots and lots of explanations and consent forms and sample interview questions and...)
2 classes for fall to plan, including one that starts before school does for eight 9-5 days
1 wiki to start (related to one of the courses)
1 big, important (in my tiny universe, at least) report to write
1 newsletter to initiate and write
4 letters of recommendation to write
several memos to write
2 conferences to attend (one down, one to go)

I'm not complaining--believe me, I'm not. But in case you're wondering, this is how I spend my time when I can--at least a few long days a week, and all evenings as soon as the kids are in bed.

In the meantime, we also have a 1981 house needing lots o'updating (where to start?) and painting. And of course, there is ice cream to be eaten, fiction to be read, fairs to be attended, summer library reading forms to fill out.

But, here's the this-is-great part. We had a relaxed, fun lunch yesterday with some good friends, out on our deck (with our run-down folding chairs and half-chopped-off railing). The food was fine, the company was great--we laughed a lot, which is my signal of a good time. At one moment in lunch, I thought, ah--now this? This. is. good.

Happy summering!

Apparently my work here is done... almost.

2007-06-21T14:46:00.001-07:00

At least that's what my 3 year old informed me of this morning.

Him: "I can do everything by myself. Everything except get off my tank top."
Me: "So I guess you don't need me anymore."
Him (very matter-of-factly): "Nope. Just when I need to get my tank top off."
Then said boy runs off to play, leaving me in a sobbing heap.

((( Charleston's firefighting families )))

2007-06-19T13:53:00.001-07:00

The news about 9 firefighters who were killed in Charleston last night is horrific. Not to be overly dramatic, but I really can't imagine running into a huge warehouse full of sofas and mattresses especially after your training has taught you just how flamable those materials are. Charleston's department is similar to my DH's. It has 236 firefighters, DH's has around 250. They have 17 stations, DH's has 14 (I think...). I'm sure Charleston has older sections of town that aren't well maintained (like our fair city).
It doesn't look like arson, and likely no one is to blame. Sure, there should have been sprinklers in that warehouse (they aren't sure there were any), but the fire may still have raged out of control. I wonder if, in the short-term at least, events like this would be much easier to deal with if there is a villain in the story that can turn grief into anger. Someone who caused the men to die, someone whose actions were attrocious enough to distract those family members away from the hurt they are going through right now and focus instead on the anger they would feel toward that person. Instead, there are spouses, parents and children left with memories and sadness. In the long-term, maybe that will be easier.
Because of this news, I'm making today an official Love Up Your Family Day. Extra kisses all around, because I can't imagine what 9 families in Charleston are going through. I can't imagine getting the news that your spouse has gone off to work and won't be returning home. I can't imagine knowing that he probably faced sheer terror in his final moments of life. Just can't imagine...

gross bugs

2007-06-11T06:58:00.001-07:00

One cool thing that happened to me in the past few weeks: I witnessed a once-every-17-year cicada hatch in the midwest. If you want to know what they look like, click here. They're almost the size of my little finger and they covered every tree. The best way to walk across grass, we decided, was to just go and not look down.

One flew at my face and I bent my glasses trying to swat it away.

They sound like a million car alarms going off, far in the distance.

They're fascinating in a weird way. For a second I considered trying to capture one to bring to the kids, but then that thought passed.

The season for Small Town America

2007-06-02T21:27:00.000-07:00

It seems like big cities are always glamorized in popular culture, as if Manhattan or LA are the only places to have a good time. I disagree. Theoretically, big cities have more to offer. But when summer rolls around, so do the good times in small towns. For example:

Rodeos: There's no one to impress, so you can unabashedly enjoy a bubble-gum snow cone with a little dirt (see above). Three year olds don't care that they aren't at the Grand Nationals (although I hear they are amazing). Instead, they get to ride the bucking bale of hay, barrel race a stick horse and they even get a competitor's number for their efforts (see below).

And, it's only 12 bucks to get in and kids under 7 are free. Can't find entertainment that cheap for miles around. Good times.

Pet Parades: When we visited my parents, the Pet Parade was scheduled, so we had to go. After all, that was where I made my own parade debut at the tender age of 10 (or so) with my friend Alicia. It was about 1984, so we carried our ghetto-blaster playing Madonna (during the uber-'80's "Like a Virgin"-era), dressed up her dog in punk-ish clothes and wore ripped fish-net stockings and reflective sunglasses. (Now that that secret is out, I'm off to live in a cave somewhere. I'll miss you all.) I remembered walking and walking and walking the parade route... for what felt like hours. This time, we arrived at 1:02 pm (it was to start at 1 pm) and we saw the last entry at... 1:06. No kidding. I was stunned to realize that someone actually took the work to put together a parade that was five. minutes. long. And the best part: the horse category. There was a person who carried a sign that introduced each category (Small Animals, Large Dogs, etc.). So when the last category, horses, came up, I knew our kids would love it. And they did. All one horses in the category. Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade has nothin' on a 5 minute parade in a small town. Maybe it's the fact that the crowd I'm running with has a 5 minute attention span (at best), but sometimes less is more.
The Dairy Queen (reverently referred to as the DQ where I'm from): Back in the day, we used to go there every Wednesday night after Bible study. There's a table with class pictures from our high school from the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s. I LOVED looking at those pictures, and sometimes we'd find someone who was someone's aunt/mother/grandmother, etc. It's still there. A little more sun-faded, but it's still there. (On the green table with the wire-back chairs, prrrof, you remember?)
School pride, even in the summer: There's always some sign on some businesses' billboard saying, "Boys' Soccer #1 at State!" or "Congrats to Billy Bob, State Spelling Bee Champ!". More often than not, however, a simple "Go Tigers!" suffices.

There's more, really. Like going to 12 yrs of school with the same kids. Like knowing everyone's parents, grandparents and siblings. Like being known as your big sister's little sister which somehow made you feel so much better. Public swimming pools. Community softball games. Library story-times. So happy summer, Small Town America. Eat a Dilly Bar or a bubble gum snow cone on me.

TB, Part III

2007-06-01T15:26:00.000-07:00

This just in. And since I'm apparently the only person interested, I promise I'll stop now. I just think this is proof that somehow we as humans don't *really* know what we're doing. Evidence: a whole bunch of intelligent, educated people (doctors, lawyers, and heads of agencies like the CDC) can't figure out how to operate without miscommunication. I'm done now.

Tuberculosis, Part 2

2007-05-29T22:48:00.000-07:00

I posted about this topic before but here is another example of someone who either didn't care or didn't fully understand his responsibility in passing TB on to those around him. I know that being quarantined would be an extreme inconvienience. However, exposure just might be a bit of an inconvienience for those sharing the air with this guy on a plane. I guess I'm finally glad I wasn't just flying into Paris, out of Prague or into Montreal.

Words to live by, sponsored by your local DMV

2007-05-18T12:11:00.000-07:00

Had the special priveledge of going to the DMV today, accompanied by two small children. I noticed that there are common customer service themes running among all DMV office workers statewide, regardless of their location in a big city, a small town or one of those AAA offices that has DMV people in it.
1. Whatever you do, do not smile. That only makes the customers feel like they are worthy of breathing the air inside the DMV office.
2. Make them wait. If there are 15 open windows, make sure there are 15 staff members NOT working at them so that people feel very lucky when it is there turn. One tactic used by a local office is to have people take numbers like A0039 and H0126 so that no one knows how many people are ahead of him/her. It's also a good idea to have windows numbered so that the elecronic voice can read, "B0243 to window number 15." It baffles the non-English speakers. Which is a nice segue into...
3. Provide all materials in Spanish (and other languages if necessary) but look at Spanish speaking customers with great suspicion. If the customer should ask, "Speak Spanish?", get irritated, as though they've requested free registration stickers for their car. Squint your eyes (like that somehow will help your ears) and inquire if they speak English. Who knows, maybe they are just taking a poll to find out how many people speak Spanish. If you discover they don't speak English, shuffle their paperwork around and say loudly, "Pay cash or credit card?" In all transactions, act greatly frustrated and make sure your body language reads, "I am really doing you favor, senor." That will surely cross the cultural divide.
4. Have a window especially for the disabled complete with a chair, and then make sure you never use it. Require all customers 80 years old and above to totter around the office to the next available window and make them stand for the 20 minutes it takes you to ensure that they completed their forms correctly. Alternatively, you can ask them to go back to their car and double check the VIN and then take a new number and wait again in line. They should continue to work for their status as the Greatest Generation.
5. Completely ignore the baby going haywire in my arms and spend all the time in the world going over paperwork that was already approved, signed and stamped. Continue to check it, even though I'm only here to turn in my smog check paper that I didn't know I needed last time.
6. Even though your paycheck brought to you by your customers' bank accounts, make everyone feels like they should be so thankful for your services. Even though you work the Customer Service Desk, you need people to know that you really do have many more important things to do, and you are only taking care of the customers because one corner of your dark heart is a little warmer than, say, ice.
Then again, maybe it was just a bad morning at my local office. After all, they had been open for an hour already, so they'd put in their day's work.

A vacation gone terribly wrong

2007-05-14T13:28:00.000-07:00

I'm not going to link to the story, because I'm sure you are all aware of it. (A quick recap in case you haven't been following it: A British couple vacationing in Portugal are currently searching for their 4 yr old daughter. They were on a holiday with several other couples and part of their vacation routine (it comes out now) was to put the kids (aged 4 and 2 yr-old twins) down for a nap and head out to the hotel tapas bar for dinner and a few glasses of wine. They checked on the kids every 30 minutes. They didn't want to hire a babysitter (apparently services were available for hire) because they didn't want to leave their kids with strangers.)
Let me first explain that I really don't trust the news regarding stories like these. Between what law enforcement must filter out to do their job and the tendency of today's new agencies to be shocking, what we are told can be so nuanced and slanted that there's a lot of opinion thrown in with a little fact. In addition, the people that the media attempt to villianize often are a bit more than the one-dimensional figures that they are presented to us as.
That said, I'm not trying to kick someone when they are down (I feel like the press has made them out to be careless parents). I'm sure these parents have never been more distressed than they are right now. But I don't really understand how parents can leave their kids alone under the following circumstances: (1) the kids neither understand nor speak the language of the country you are in; (2) the kids may not know where you are; and (3) the kids are old enough to get out of bed and leave the room if they wake up startled, scared or curious.
We don't know what happened in that room yet. But what if the little girl woke up that night and went to look for her parents? What if she got distressed upon not finding them and began to wander in the halls? I'm not saying that is what happened, but I can't help but think it's a possibility.
When Boy #1 was a baby, a relative and I were talking about how we'd never, ever leave our babies alone. And yet, I have to think that it would be even riskier now that he's three. He can open the door, let people in, talk to strangers and go places with them. He isn't supposed to. But he could. And if the right person approached him, he would. I know I could talk to him over and over about strangers and bad people, but I don't think he can wrap his 3 year old mind around the idea that there are bad people who would lure him away nicely and then harm him. I love that innocence but it is also so dangerous. As for my baby, I wouldn't leave him alone either. But if I did, he couldn't let anyone in the room, he couldn't be sweet-talked into leaving with strangers and he can't be startled from his sleep and leave his bed.
I know other cultures have different habits around child-tending. I remember a story of a Danish couple visiting New York City some years ago who had their child taken by Child Protective Services because they were dining in a restaurant while their baby was sleeping in a stroller outside of the restaurant unattended. Their logic was that they do that all the time without problems in Copenhagen. Why did they somehow not realize that they weren't in Copenhagen at that point? The British parents apparently did this every night. They have a nanny at home, so apparently they wouldn't do it in London. I just wonder why it seemed perfectly logical to do in Portugal.
I'm not bringing this up to criticize the parents. I'm sure they are absolutely distraught over this and it is destroying their hearts as the days go by without locating their precious daughter. And I know I come from a country where most people wouldn't leave their kids alone because of the publicity that child abduction receives (ie, we think it happens all the time since the news tends to report on it daily). We have Amber Alerts, the Polly Klas Foundation, Elizabeth Smart and so many other reminders of this terrible act on an almost daily basis.
I'm sure these folks are good people who were just trying to have a little adult time in their vacation. I hope so much that they find their daughter and soon. I hope other families will think twice before leaving their kids alone in any part of the world, no matter how foreign or familiar. I hope we stop making children responsible for their own well-being.

LCS's Public Safety Announcement for May

2007-05-12T21:40:00.000-07:00

OK, so likely not that many of you check your smoke alarms on a regular basis. If I wasn't married to a firefighter, I probably wouldn't either. But check out how fast a fire can destroy whatever is in its path. Don't believe me, then watch this (note: actually, don't watch that but at the bottom of the page is a link on the right hand side (that for whatever reason won't let me link appropriately) called Burning down the house. Watch that.) A fire doubles every minute, and in under three minutes, this living room is consumed completely. The fire would have been a lot worse in a real life setting. This one was staged by UL and is well-ventilated and has firefighters on staff for obvious reasons. This Mother's Day, check your smoke alarms. It would be a shame for all of those hand-painted hearts from your kids' preschool years to go up in smoke because you thought the batteries were working.
For more information, contact your local fire department. Thank you.

Huh?

2007-05-10T21:54:00.000-07:00

Maybe my 3 year old just isn't as smart as the guy I heard in Trader Joe's. His 3 year-old-looking-boy noticed the electric wheelchair/shopping cart things and asked, "What are those for?" His father said, "Those are for people who are mobility challenged." And then they perambulated around the store, searching for items with which they could create culinary masterpieces. Or at least Mac & Cheese.

Whose shoestring is that?!

2007-04-30T14:12:00.000-07:00

Nothing makes me happier than finding a cute outfit for my feet (translation: shoes) on the cheap. I watched this on msn.com which prompted the all-important question for the ages. Not, "Do you wear flats or heels with that?", but rather "Who are these people?!!?"
Granted, the video was produced by TV people who have no idea what the average American is all about and yet still manage to make a product that the average American consumes. Titled, "How to look chic on a shoestring budget", this piece instead instructed you on how to buy heels (with the exception of one pair) on a solid-gold shoestring budget. A pair on Kenneth Coles for only $198! Wow, what a steal!
I need to take these people to Target and show 'em around. In addition, I'd like them to meet my budget. Probably isn't even to the level of their shoestring since I can't afford their shoes.

A week of crazy kid fun

2007-04-30T08:37:00.000-07:00

My s-i-l, 2 kids, and the grandparents were here for a week. The formula could be one for disaster: take one house, add 4 kids (ages 5, 4, 2, almost-1), an auntie, 2 grandparents...throw in a little extra sugar, some warm weather for playing outside, not enough sleep, even a bout of coughs and fevers. Amazingly, even those conditions didn't lead to disaster but to lots of fun, and sil and I even got a 2-hour mall blitz in :) As with LCS, it's so fun to watch our kids play and giggle and talk about life.

This set of relatives grew up with lots of cousins right across the street. In our family, we weren't close to any other family members our age. Creating the conditions so that our kids can be close cousins has been really important, then, for all of us.

So here's to family--and to all of ours, both related by blood and not.

Want a degree in 5 minutes?

2007-04-25T14:30:00.000-07:00

Read this article about a girl who has graduated from Univ. of Michigan in... 1 year. And I have to ask myself, how is this possible? And why would someone allow her to do that?
Perhaps I have a far-less popular view of the purpose of education. It's not just about taking enough credits to claim proficiency in a certain subject matter that makes an education valuable. It's gaining knowledge and experience that forms and shape you that is most important.
My own college experience was academically challenging to some degree, but it's not like I went to Harvard, or took only upper-division classes for all four years. Perhaps I *could* have (OK, not the Harvard part, but anyway...). Instead, I took classes that challenged my beliefs and my brain. I took classes with people and professors whose paths I never would have crossed otherwise. I worked on projects with other students that saw the world sometimes quite differently than I did. And all of that made me a better thinker, a more compassionate person, and (probably) an easier person to work and live with.
Many people, parents especially, look at college as a time to gain information that will lead you to a more profitable job. And it might. But there are plenty of successful people who either have no college or who dropped out (Bill Gates, for example). In reality, most motivated and intelligent people will find a job and they will move up the ranks and be financially successful. And a lot of really intelligent, college-educated people... won't. Maybe we have become so focused on the product of education (a degree) that we have forgotten about the process of education. Which, by merit of being a process, simply takes time.
I can admire a person who can leave U of M with a degree after only 12 months of study. But I also feel sorry for her. Sorry that she has missed out on 3 more years of growing up, of exposure to other people and ideas, and, simply put, of life. Is she really doing herself a favor by skipping that part of the experience?
I understand that she may not have the financial freedom to take 4 years to graduate. Perhaps she is from a family that needs her to get her education speedily so as to help with supporting the family. If that is the case, more power to her. She's brave to take on the world on her terms.
But if not, if it is just a matter of being bored with the process and wanting to be "challenged", which the article suggests, then someone should have intervened. Where was her advisor to tell her that she could and should get prepared for the workforce (and life) by being creative about what was challenging her? She could have spent time challenging more than her book-knowledge. She could have gotten involved with groups that help others, that provide insight into the world outside of hers. Work with City Year, be a volunteer with an international aid group, volunteer at her local hospice, organize students around an issue that is important to her, make friends, go on on a year abroad. Volunteer at the mental health crisis line. Play a sport. Learn to play (or even just appreciate) an instrument. DO something.
Learning is more than writing papers and taking tests. It's in the doing that we learn the most. And that, my friends, is a process.

Comments and nominees...

2007-04-19T13:23:00.001-07:00

Hey, in regard to our last post on the Thinking Blogger award (thanks, Lisa!)... you can comment on this post, since our comment box doesn't show up on that post. There you have it. Technical whiz that I am.

Thinking? Us?

2007-04-17T12:20:00.000-07:00

We love that Lisa tagged us for the Thinking Blogger award--yes, folks, we have a reader! :) Seriously, we value our vast readership but also love to read other blogs. So, passing on the good favor isn't hard. We're going to cheat a bit and nominate two blogs and an entire *category* of blogs...

Blogs that make us think (in random order):

Brownie Points -- okay, so her posts are mostly witty, in-depth musings about food (flavored homemade marshmallows! Who knew?) but she makes us think about (and miss) Eugene. And she makes usthink about lots of food.

i wonder sometimes -- her posts are poetry of everyday life, and we love knowing about this side of an old friend.

Family and Friends -- Finally, we have a whole slew of good friends we read who blog about their kids and families and share adorable pictures. Since they use blogs mostly to post pics for adoring fans, we weren't sure that they'd even want to be mentioned here. But we love, love, love how these blogs make us think about our friends, and about our kids, and about what's important in life. So, keep at it--and (you know who you are) if you *do* want to be publicly linked to carry on the Thinking Blogger award, please let us know!

An awful day in Virginia

2007-04-16T14:14:00.000-07:00

I written about this before, but many times when national events are spashed over the news, I have a hard time really connecting. Intellectually, I can think, "Wow, that would be so scary/difficult/sad/whatever" but for the most part I don't get emotionally carried away with news.
Today's shooting at Virginia Tech has me undone. It's a terrible tragedy, of course, but I was unsure why I was absolutely glued to the radio this morning. I have no personal connection, other than the brother of a friend who attends and is currently locked in his room there. (He's fine.) But this story just overwhelms me. I'm so sad for everyone involved.
I thought maybe it was my fond memories of college and the carefree-ness of those years that make me feel so very sad for all those students and family members who won't look back on their years in the same way now. Maybe it was the sheer numbers and promise of the people killed. Imagine losing 30+ members of an academic institution, that's a whole lot of hopeful, intelligent people who won't be contributing to our society now.
Then I heard an interview with a witness. He was in a classroom when the shooter entered and shot several people, including his instructor. The witness said the only thing he could think of was his mom and what she would go through if something happened to him. There it was, my connection. My kids are nowhere near college age, but just the thought that if anything, anything robbed me of their sweet lives... it's beyond comprehension.
So to all of the VT folks out their grieving today, my thoughts are with you. I can't imagine the devastation the loss of these 31 lives (and counting) has created. This is a sad, sad day. I can't imagine what the killer was thinking. I can't imagine being robbed of the freedom and independance of the college years. More than anything, though, there are the sisters, brothers, wives, husbands, dear friends, and sons and daughters that are dead. I simply cannot imagine.

More parental advice from LCS

2007-04-08T21:29:00.000-07:00

Mommas, don't let your babies grow up to be bullfighters.
But, if they decide that is indeed their only career ambition, encourage them to watch this video first. (Warning: blood and guts are included in the clip.)

Come one, come all

2007-04-05T20:54:00.000-07:00

My current favorite sign on a local church:

We need to talk

God Free Easter Egg hunt

Saturday, April 7

Do they need to talk to me? Because honestly I have nothing to talk about regarding their God-free easter egg hunt. Something tells me God might not have much to say about it either.

Sharing the air

2007-04-02T20:00:00.000-07:00

Read this interesting article today and it brought back memories.
When I was still a working girl, the hospital floor I worked on got almost all of the county's TB patients that had been either diagnosed during their hospitalization or were "non-compliant" with their meds and were in the hospital to see to it that they did, in fact, comply. (I use the quotation marks because I can't stand that word with regard to medical care. Some people have reasons for not agreeing with doctors and/or their care plans, and it often has nothing to do with insolent toddler behavior which the word non-compliant signifies to me. But I digress.)
Normally, I'm all for a person making their own choices about medical care. Many times doctors would refer me to patients who did not consent to treatment. Doctors (and other staff) often wanted me, as the social worker, to go in and convince them to go along with the plan. Sometimes their reasons were well-thought out and reasonable and other staff members simply hadn't taken the time to hear them out. Other times they just didn't understand what the treatment would (or wouldn't) entail because no one had made the time to discuss things in detail with them. I supported all of the patients I worked with in disagreeing with the doctors if I felt like they were making an informed decision, even if their decision wouldn't have been mine. With a singular exception: patients with TB, and particularly those with drug-resistant strains.
If someone forgoes treatment because they would rather face their own demise than endure whatever side effects treatment may include, I'm all for that. But when someone makes the decision to forego treatment and potentially cause me to face my own demise, I'm not for that at all. TB is airborne, and we all share the air.
While it may seem like a human rights violation to lock someone up for not wearing a mask in public, I think it can be turned around. It's a human rights violation to expose me and the rest of the public you come in contact with simply because you don't want to wear a mask. And as far as this fellow in the article is concerned, I have a very hard time believing that no one told him how important it was to wear a mask at all times. Maybe he didn't want to believe it, maybe he thought they were being melodramatic regarding the seriousness of his condition and his ability to spread it to others, but that's not our fault. That's his.
From the sound of the article, he seems to be a person who makes choices reflecting intelligent thought. He was living in Russia, got his TB diagnosis, and returned to the US expecting to get better medical care. All a logical plan. His logic, however, ends there. He then decides that he is the victim and, at least in this article, doesn't seem to show any remorse for his exposing the public that he shared air with in the convienience store. Instead he is angry at the poor treatment he's receiving in jail. I will agree that I don't understand why they took away his TV, computer, etc., when those wouldn't be passed from person to person and would cause no one any harm. But in this case, taking away his personal freedom does seem a reasonable alternative to taking away mine.

Four kids, a mountain of toys and a mere 1200 square feet

2007-03-31T16:33:00.000-07:00

... which makes for one fun week!
We knew my sister and her family would be visiting us this week and we knew the consequences would be toys everywhere, occasional toddler warfare and a bevy of sippy cups and snacks. But last week when we had the environmental safety guy come out to check out some mold growing in a never-used closet we didn't know about the consequences of his visit.
He had initially told my DH over the phone that most household mold is simply a matter of spraying with bleach and isn't a genuine health hazard. He also said that the term "toxic black mold" was created by personal injury lawyers and isn't medically substantiated. He was by no means an alarmist, having fun striking fear in the hearts of every mold-growing homeowner.
Then his consequence-creating visit came. He took one look in the closet (which is located off of our sunroom/toy room) and noted that this was not your standard clean-up-with-bleach situation. Instead he offered the enticing alternative of ripping out the room down to the studs and starting over. And he recommended keeping everyone out of the sunroom/toy room. Erck. This with the pending arrival of 2 additional toddler-types and 3 additional adults.
So we moved out all of the toys, washed them down (each and every little part) and moving some into the garage for future use and some into our living room. Oh the joys. I was anticipated a challenging few days with too many kids and toys in too little room. Although we knew our sunroom wasn't well-constructed (that's putting it quite mildly) it has been such a useful room since it harbors all our toys and keeps them from being underfoot. The thought of having 400 square feet off limits was a bit daunting.
But then my brother and my sister and her family came, and... it was fine. Great, in fact. The kids did wonderfully and had a great time playing together. It's been so fun to see them growing up and turning into such sweet little people. Although her current location is much preferred to her previous one, I'd give anything for my sister to be closer than she is now. But since that's unlikely to happen, I have to say it is so fun to see the dramatic changes in kids that a few months can bring. There really wasn't any toddler warfare (aside from the occasional toy ownership issues) and, honestly, no tears (aside from those caused by parents). It was the kind of thing I'd always wished for growing up myself, just 3 1/2 solid days of playing until you're too tired to do anything but... get more wound up.
So, thank you, prrrof, for coming down to see us! We loved it!

airport update

2007-03-20T14:02:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in the Orlando airport, and because I'm traveling with a cool little laptop and no children, I can actually sit here and write a blog post. So far (knock on the metal chair arm with no wood at all), my trip has gone smoothly. Unlike Bryan's nightmarish recent voyage.

For two nights I have had a hotel room, alone.

This is rare, and very nice in small doses. No cartoons had to be watched, for example. I got to stay up as late as I wanted without worrying about trying to settle down some kids. I've eaten meals slowly and with other adults.

I miss the kids like crazy, of course, but solitude--every once in a great while--is an amazing thing.

Grace is my middle name

2007-03-13T21:06:00.000-07:00

To prime your brain for this story, first there's this joke:

A grandson is visiting his blind grandma in a nursing home. While they're chatting, he surreptitiously eats all of the peanuts from the bowl beside her bed. Once they're done talking, he admits what he's done to granny. She replies: "Oh, that's okay son, those are the peanuts that I've sucked all of the chocolate off of!"

Okay. So, on Saturday night, I'm at a social occasion at my colleague's house. I walk into the living room where folks are sitting around a few appetizer trays; my eyes light on a bowl of snow peas. "Yum!" I think, "I love eating those! And how nice to have bowls of them sitting around!" So I grab one and sit down. The snow pea, though, disappoints. As I chew, and chew, and chew on what turns out to be an extremely stringy bean, I tell myself to be polite and swallow it down. Inside, I recoil a bit snobbily from what surely must be cheap Winco beans. How embarrassing, I think, that the hosts served these stale, cheap beans. I continue chewing, swallow, and decide to stick to the Thai toasts.

Then, I look up and notice two things:
1. people are splitting open the peas, which means that they are *edamame* and not stale snow peas.
2. there are large bowls filled with fresh edamame and small ones filled with...chewed-open edamame shells.

So, yes: not only did I *eat* an entire edamame, pod and all, I ate an already-chewed-on-by-someone-else edamame.

That's one way to make a classy impression.

Eye for an eye... BB for a BB

2007-03-12T19:02:00.000-07:00

So, this just in from the land of milk and bullets.
This weekend a mother of a 14-year old was arrested for (drumroll, please)... helping her child hunt down the people he wanted to shoot!! Hear, hear for the local police department for stepping up to the plate and stopping her nonsense! Good for them for taking a stand against aiding-and-abetting mothers. Yikes and double yikes, is this what this world (OK, my town) has come to?
As the story goes, a 14 yr old boy and his 3 or 4 pals were riding around with his mother telling her where to go and when to stop. She stopped at one point when he saw someone he wanted to shoot (PS, she knew about the guns in the car, more on that later), he gets out and shoots the person in the face. The mother gets out to check on the victim, gives him a clean bill of health (actually she said "You're OK") and then goes a bit further. She offers the gun to the victim and tells him it would be fine with her if he shot her son. A real big-hearted move since we aren't the eye-for-an-eye society we were in the days of Moses. Our local paper politely reported that the victim "declined" and ran off for help. My guess is that a few four-letter words were flying around when he issued his so-called "declination".
A word about the guns: they were BB guns. It's all just some good, clean NRA-endorsed fun, you think? Ou contraire. The police found a total of 5 guns in the car, one of which was designed to resemble an Uzi. Apparently all BB guns are manufactured with an orange circle on the end of the gun so police and the public will recognize them as the toys that they are. These kids' guns were blacked out so there was nothing to distinguish them from gang-issued non-toys that are so prevalent in this town.
Seriously, what is going on? I have boys. I am appalled at how early the barrage of commercially-endorsed violence begins in the form of Superman (who my 3 yr old is convinced is a bad man because he shoots people), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and a plethora of gun-type toys. On the same token, I must admit that while being far from a card-carrying NRA member, I am not terribly worried about my son becoming violent due to his love for some gun-like toy. I don't buy toy-like guns (he is only 3) but when he's at someone's house and they are playing some shooting-type of game, I don't put an immediate halt to it. (Case in point: he was recently fascinated by a lime-green water pistol. I honestly don't think he's made the connection between that and a deadly weapon). But he doesn't face the 24/7 exposure to violence that his TV-watching peers face. He also doesn't have a mother who, at 3 or 14, will have nothing better to do than cruise around with him and his friends looking for the bad dudes whilst toting a few weapons in the minivan. What I would give to be able to honestly end this post with, "therefore, he's safe as can be." But I can't.

Spring! in March!

2007-03-10T08:19:00.000-08:00

So here's the jolly post I promised: it's March, and it's spring. There's something very, very right about that.

There were many things we loved about our years in the middle of the country, but the winters-that-lasted-until-late-April were not one of them.

On the other hand, I don't think we'll ever have a Trader Joe's or IKEA here. And try flying anywhere easily....

Just another light, uplifting post

2007-03-05T20:31:00.000-08:00

On Friday night, we were at a local college gymnastics meet. We were there with friends of ours who have two late elementary/early middle school aged girls (maybe 10 and 12?). At one point, I looked over and all of them -- the two older girls and our four-year-old girl--were gone. I initially broke into a cold sweat; I ordered myself to be sane and rational; I said right out to my friend, "this is a new parenting moment. I don't know if I'm ready for this." "What?," she asked. "My child, going off with other children, alone," I replied. I twitched and fidgeted for another minute and then finally sent dh to check on them (I would have gone but darling son was clinging to my lap and saying, "mommy I neeeeeed you.")

The extent of the damage ended up being that our girl ordered a hot dog, of all things, on the other girls' offer of a snack (they got licorice, for goodness' sake, and our girl polishes off a hot dog? At 9:00 at night?) I'm okay with us going to check; I don't think that was too overly neurotic. But it brought up all of those questions all over again: how protective is overprotective? What risks are worth taking, and which ones aren't? It reminded me, of course, of Carrie's thoughtful post on this issue. Then yesterday I found this post, which (while it's about internet child safety) raises other good issues about fear. Danah's observations then led me to this one, which is filled with statistics and charts about (online) sexual abuse and abuse of children. Now, these are not fun topics--but we're so saturated with fear now that it's hard to remember that we're living in relatively safe times in a relatively safe country. Yes, as my sister pointed out on the phone tonight, statistics aren't all that meaningful when you're considering your own kid. But, perception (and misconception) could keep me from letting my kids grow in appropriate ways, while perhaps unintentionally leaving them vulnerable to other incidents. I think I've mentioned this book before--but this is a good one: Protecting the Gift by Gavin de Becker.

That is all. I promise a post filled with hope and jolly goodness next!

Look what someone from my hometown did...

2007-03-02T14:41:00.000-08:00

If you have kids, or friends with kids, or think kids might be fun to have someday, check out this cool website created by my friend Emily. She's basically compiled all the info you'd need for raising a kid in her city. I think she needs to expand and have people host it in other towns, because it's really useful stuff...
Happy weekending!

Times I wish I'd had my camera with me

2007-02-28T14:45:00.000-08:00

Seen while driving by the local trailer park:
A man, who was very large even by the kindest of standards, was driving around the parking lot with his very large arm hanging out the window. He was holding a leash. His dog, on the other end of the leash, was getting a walk. The man was not.
And in other news:
I read in the paper the other day that social scientists have decided that all the emphasis on self esteem in elementary schools has been to the students' detriment. My favorite part of the whole article was the new song some kindergartens are teaching, to the tune of Frere Jacque (I think that's Brother Jackie, but forgive me my spelling, I didn't take French): "I am special, I am special, Look at me! Look at me!"
I think I'd be annoyed to hear my kid singing that. But at least now it's stuck in your head for the rest of the day.

women, guilt, and sharing at-home parenting

2007-02-23T21:20:00.000-08:00

Or: oh no--not this again, prrrof.

Originally when we two sisters started this blog, one thing that fascinated us was our ability to both feel guilt over what we were or were not doing with parenting and work. Staying home meant worrying about not working; working meant feeling like a far less than perfect mom because, after all, really good moms choose to stay home with their kids (when they can).

This came up again for me this week because a small work trip is going to take me out of town for a few days longer than I'd anticipated next month, and it sent me reeling. My colleague asked me why it was bothering me (in a genuine, honest way); he noted that his father had traveled quite a bit when he was a kid. Of course, it made me anxious me to think about being gone because I'll desperately miss my kids and dh--but the kids will have their grandparents here and their dad, of course, who is with them two days a week anyway. So it's not like they're not used to him. What bothered me most, though, was thinking that other women -- women I admire and appreciate and respect -- might in turn be thinking in their heads, "Wow--I can't *imagine* leaving my kids for 6 days. What kind of mom is she?" Now, mind you, this comes solely from the voices in my own head. No one has *ever* said anything negative to me about working, and I'm surrounded by many close friends who are amazing stay-at-home-moms. The judgment I'm hearing, then, is all from within. It's a cultural message I've somehow absorbed well.

So that's the guilt part. It's subsided recently, but came bubbling up again over this upcoming trip. The flip side of the coin is what attempting to share responsibilities mostly equally--or somewhat equally--has done for our little family and dh and I's relationship.* I stumbled on this site tonight, and it helps me name what we're trying to do. I think my dh is even more unusual than I am -- and those of you who know us might say we're both wierd! -- but, beyond working enough to make our monthly bills and provide as well for our family as we can, neither of us cares who actually makes more, and both of us are committed to ensuring that we're both home with our kids as much as we can be. That means, of course, that we have combinations of one parent home and day care. It also means that I have more time with the kids in the summers, and dh has more with them right now.

It's not perfect, and it doesn't take away the (totally internalized) pressure I feel that a good mom= a stay-at-home-mom. But, I do so highly value that each of us knows what it's like to be home with two funny, goofy, whiny, messy kids all day, and both of us know what it's like to feel the pressure of a paycheck. Whoever's home cooks, so sometimes we have less-than-inspired meals (by either of us). We certainly don't divide everything down the middle; dh does nearly everything pertaining to the cars and the bills, and I do the weekly laundry because I like things folded nicely. The kids get to see us both doing lots of housework, having lots of playtime with them, and going off to work. All in all, it's an arrangement that works for us, and works well. Would it work for everyone? No. I do wish, though, that there was more recognition that sharing both bread making and winning can be a feasible, realistic choice for families.

*This is NOT a judgment of husbands who are sole breadwinners. Nor of moms who are at-home moms. I am absolutely *for* each family's right -- and obligation -- to make thoughtful choices about what's best for each particular situation. Just so you know.

My Funny Valentine

2007-02-20T13:34:00.000-08:00

(Aside to p:So the pencils are back, sister of mine. So sorry... I guess that's what happens when I'm left turning the wheel of technology.)

So the Dish Fairy has left. As has the Laundry Fairy and the Constant 3-yr old Entertainment Fairy. For those of you with no kids, that means my mom has left. We had a great week, and I actually did take the time she was here to do a few things that are impossible to do with a velcro baby as I have (ie prune rosebushes and take out tomato plants which should have been removed 6 or 9 months ago and go out to dinner with my husband). So onward we forge, with only one mom, one dad, and two kids to manage this homestead. Can we do it? Watch this space, you'll be the first to find out.
I can't post this without wishing my funny valentine a big HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY. This week our itty bitty baby turned 1. It seems unbelieveable that just a year ago he was tiny, weak and so vulerable. Now he's taking his first few steps, saying "hi" (or so I think) and rapidly growing out of babyhood. Sigh. Just a few moments and it's all over.
For me it's easy to dwell on how challenging these years can be, so draining physically... and yet it really is all over so fast. I'm sure my mom wonders where the years went, how we grew up so fast, and how it is that now we're the parents. I'm sure that's news to no one, it only seems more relevant as I get older (maybe I'm a slow learner).
The thing that really gets me is just how much I love my kiddos. I was never a babysitter or a lover of all things baby-ish, but for these two boys, I would do anything. Anything. I would lay down my life, change my life's plans, and mostly I'd do anything to take away the things that could hurt them. For now, that's mostly looking out for things they could trip on or flying objects that could make contact with their skulls. It's hard for me to imagine parenting later on, when life hurls things I can't intercept, especially when those things make contact with their hearts. I wonder if the hardest part about parenting is letting them go and letting them learn the lessons that life has to teach them. For now, I think the biggest thing I'm ready for is someone falling off of his bike. Thank goodness they don't actually grow up overnight.

So, Happy Birthday, Boy #2! In just 12 short months, he went from this:
... to this:
Happy birthday to my sweet, sweet baby! We love you!

A word from the fashion police

2007-02-10T13:56:00.000-08:00

Without starting this blog down the political road, I cannot further repress my feelings regarding Hillary. The Rodham Clinton one, that is. At the gym today I noticed Fox News doing a really great job informing the American public once again. After hours of coverage of Anna Nicole Smith's recent demise, they shifted gears. Off to the Presidential races, with Ms. R-C in the lead. And what, dear 24-hour-new-channel-that-informs-too-many-people-in-this-country, did you focus on? Her clothes. ARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
Seriously. They took their investigative reporting skills to the street and asked people what they thought of her current state of fashion. (Refresh my memory, did anyone give two hoots if Bill was wearing a hip tie or a turtleneck under his sportcoat during his races?) This educational segment was done because, of course, it's Fashion Week in NYC. What a great segue, talking to designers and regular folks about politics, and wrapping politics into fashion. Makes me nauseous.
Watch this space, because I guarantee you, many people will say, "I'd be completely 100% fine with a female president if I felt like she was the right one." They are lying. Instead of looking at her policies and abilities, they spend hours of their lives focused on whether or not she should give up the pantsuit. If there were two white dudes looking to be neck and neck in a political race, there would be no discussion about their suits. None. As there shouldn't be.
I'm going to go ahead and shimmy on out the limb I'm so often on and draw a comparison. If it's that important to education the public about a woman dresses, what will ever be said about Barak Obama? Is it important to educate us on his ability to shoot hoops? No WAY would even Fox News make a segment about whether Obama should work on his inside shot or his 3-pointer, because everyone knows that's not only ridiculous, it's demeaning, not to mention stereotypical and a lot of other things.
But for some reason, it's fine to do that with regard to a woman. She looks like your average professional woman who doesn't have a lot of discretion in how she dresses just like most professional suit-wearing men. But why, in the midst of people signing up for the presidential race, are we focusing on that?
And don't come at me with the whole "It's just Hillary, people want to talk about her because she's so polarizing." Not true. Look what happened when Condoleeza Rice wore high heeled boots and a black knee length skirt in Germany. The press went crazy. And you know what? She looked great. But in the end, I have no idea what that German meeting was for. I do know that being a woman and in a place of power, it must be assumed that you are eye candy. And if you aren't, you should be. There's no other word, it's ridiculous.
We are increasingly a nation of contradictions. This weeks' Newsweek has a whole article about how pre-teens idolize Britney and Paris, et al., who are basically scantily clad young women with money and fame. The gist of the article is, "Mommas, don't let your babies grow up to dress (and act) like these ladies." Then over in the adult news, we're completely comfortable criticizing a national leader (who makes important decisions) because of how she dresses. They didn't share one word of a speech Hillary was giving in New Hampshire, not one word of her responses to questions, just a thorough, in-depth conversation about her clothes.
I, for one, am not falling for it. Pro-Hillary or not, women and men of this country should expect more out of the folks who are supposed to provide us with information that helps us make informed decisions. Or maybe that isn't a reporter's job anymore. Maybe that is considered ridiculous.

Cool things I've been enjoying online

2007-02-01T19:43:00.000-08:00

I'm not a total techie--not by far--but a few different circumstances this week have sent me to some sites that I'm having a lot of fun with. I may be the last person in the world to know about these funky spots; if so, don't ruin my joy. Pretend you've never heard of these either.

Stumble upon is where it all begins--a very fun way to search around:
www.stumbleupon.com

Then there are these fun ones:
Musicovery
Pandora
Visuwords
Librarian Chick
Media Convert (this one is an easier way to take screen shots)

And she can turn pages too, folks!

2007-01-27T21:08:00.000-08:00

So that none of you doubt my continued ability to read, may I impart upon you a few book reviews. You may have noticed that my book reviews differ from those of, say, the New York Times or other astute publications. For one, I don't read the latest books from the hippest authors. That is because my opportunity to locate reading material for the week comes before story time at our local library. I have approximately .3 minutes before the two kids completely lose their patience and would rather fall on the floor screaming than allow me to follow my literary dreams. But now and then in my haste to find a book that looks good (and yes, I've judged many a book by its cover), I discover a good one that I can't put down.
Today I bring you three. Really, just two and one with a perfect quote.
On the more serious side, I succombed in to my historical novel hunger by reading *Pope Joan* by Donna Wolcroft Somethingelse. GREAT read. If you like Phillipa Gregory, you'll love this book. It's set in the year 800 AD, the darkest of the Dark Ages, not exactly tea and crumpets for the average Jane. The story is historically based, but her research was limited to the poor record keeping of the time. The author had to make a lot of suppositions based on half-truths told in Church records, etc., but the story is not written out of the fabric of her imagination. Starting with her childhood, it tells of the life of a girl named Joan who is smart at a time when women aren't allowed to be smart. Or literate. She has a fascinating mother, a you-just-want-to-kill-him-he's-so-awful dad and other colorful people in her life. I don't want to ruin anything for you so I'll just say this. I could not put this book down. (As a side note: I can't imagine not being allowed to read. I really don't know how I would survive.)
And a lighter selection after you've read *Pope Joan* and are thoroughly disgusted with the way women were treated... *Chasing James* by Sarah Mason. It's funny, silly and a has a great ending. I'd pretty much say it screams I AM CHICK LIT at the top of its voice but if you pick it up expecting that, you'll be swooning over this book. There's really nothing more to say about it. Fun and fluffy, and I'll read more from this chick.
I have known of Gish Jen for a long time. Seen her novels all over the place, but only now read *The Love Wife*. LOVED it. She is not Amy Tan's younger sister, and any comparison would be based entirely on their Asian-ness. (An aside: I'm just realizing the lack of Asian mainstream novelists (mainstream = not only read in college lit courses) out there. Is it just me?) They couldn't be more different. Whereas Tan uses Asian mythology and imagery to enrich her works (which I love), this particular book has none of that. It's more direct about the impact of many kinds of relationships on us without being too what's-going-on-in-my-heart-y and mushy. My all-time favorite quote (at least for now) lies in this book. The mother of the family is thinking about these huge sunflower plants that came up randomly in their lawn and how much she enjoys them, but wonders how a relative that's coming to visit will think of them. "Yet if I could add a word to our language, it would be a word for this: the peace a grown woman feels on the days-the rare days- when she needs to consider no view but her own." I think that is delicious.
So there, a few more pages for you to contemplate. Pass on your suggestions, since I just read myself out of mine.

Things good, and things not so good

2007-01-25T19:20:00.000-08:00

Not so good: Several folks I know, near and far, are dealing with major life changes at a time in life when they're probably not expecting it (yes, there are times that upheaval is normal: think 6th grade, think college). One example: we heard earlier this week that *another* major employer in the region we just moved from is going under--and this means lots and lots of 30, 40, and 50 year olds with comfortable lives are out of work. As we *finally* have moments where we feel like adults (it's fleeting, but it does happen), the thought of suddenly having the rug pulled out (or the paycheck snatched away) is frightening. I so feel for those families that are having to completely retool.

Good: The good thing: after having it as a new year's resolution for, oh, ten years: I've signed up for guitar lessons! I'm so, so excited. They start in February--so we'll see how they go.

Technicalities: And one more technical note: is it even possible to have multiple google/blogger identities off one email address? I'd like to keep this blog separate from my work blogs, but I have my work email hooked to this blog and to my others...hmm. I've looked through blogger q and a's and can only find the advice to go in and change my userprofile each time. That seems kind of clunky?

A financial lesson that isn't terribly entertaining.

2007-01-11T12:45:00.000-08:00

So here's the world-famous Envelope Accounting System, designed and created by my friend Ingrid. She is one of those people who probably doesn't need it, because she's actually able to control her spending and isn't impulsive because she realizes the value of a dollar. That's why I'm sure she's actually from another planet. That and the fact that she balances her checkbook. Every month. (Is that even legal?)
I spent a few evenings with her working out a personal budget and plan because DH and I felt like we had no idea where our money went but, alas, it was gone.
The first thing we did is figure out how much we earned per hour. You take your net wages (so what REALLY goes in the bank, after your contributions to your 401K, Uncle Sam, etc.) and divide them by 24 hrs. (A novel idea, because really, who cares how much you earn in 8 hours if you live for 24?) I think ours worked out to something like $3.00 an hour (or maybe it was .30.) Then when you go impulse-buy that shirt for $30.00, ask yourself whether you'd want to work for 10 hours for it. Maybe, maybe not. But at least you have a better appreciation for it.
And a few rules help keep your brain in the game.
Rule #1: The ATM is not your friend. It gives the impression that money grows on trees. And it's a theif. For example, if on vacation you decide to use Bank of Canada's ATM since you don't know where the Santa Fe Knothead National Bank is, expect to lose major cash. That $40 you get out probably cost you upwards of $45. Bank of Canada charges $2.50 (let's say) and SFKNB charges an additional $2.50. So you're losing ground.
Rule #2: Use cash whenever you can. It hurts more. You will spend less.
Then you begin Envelope Accounting. Here's a step-by-step guide:
1. Get a stack of envelopes and title each one into expenses. This includes different categories. Ours were: Groceries, Vacation savings, Clothing, Gifts, Auto Maintenance, Gas, Fun household (wall pictures, dishes, pillows, etc), Entertainment (incl. eating out), Auto misc (car washes, etc.), Education (incl. classes, software for computer, etc.), and Vitamins and medications (this is esp. good to separate out if you ahve a medical savings account with your work). I think my sister does a more simplified envelope system involving only about four envelopes, which works too, but I'll get to this first.
2. Take the amount of pay you receive per 2 wks or month or whatever. Take out what you pay for bills and house and car payments. What's left is going into envelopes. So say you have $600 left over.
3. Go to the bank. Inside, where the humans are. (Remember Rule #1.) Each pay period, I would go to the bank and take out our cash in specific bills. We had allotted $300 for groceries, $75 for entertainment, $25 for gifts, etc., and put those exact amounts in the appropriate envelopes. (When I went to the bank, I'd get X# of $50s, $20s, $10s and $5s, etc., so I wasn't trying to remember that groceries owed gifts $5, because then it messes up the whole point.)
4. Put the cash in the appropriate envelope and spend accordingly throughout the week. My sister is quite good at this part. If there's only $5 in the grocery envelope and they don't get paid for a few days, it's leftovers and cereal at their house. (Let's hope you aren't visiting them at the tail-end of a pay period!) If you want, you can borrow from envelopes, but beware...
5. Some envelopes like Vacation and Auto maintenance would start adding up and I would eventually put those into our bank account because I wasn't crazy about having $800 in cash in my house, but I would have a paper tally of what was for what. Here's the main point though. If you're at the grocery store and don't have enough bread for your bread, borrow from something else if you must, or... put something back. When you figure you are stealing from your vacation fund, your weekly need for Brie might be reduced.
6. (Optional, but keep reading) My friend set me up on Quicken and my husband and I kept track of our cash transactions. It was amazing how much money we spent on unexpected items. Like gifts, for example. We had allotted $25 per pay period for saving for gifts. That amounts to $650.00 annually, which sounds like a reasonable amount to spend. With the 20 people in our immediate families, that works out to $32.50 per person including the card. And that doesn't count a single shower, wedding, etc. You'd be shocked at how much trivial things start to add up. But I say it's optional because it's a bit time consuming. I had a hard time keeping up with receipts and with things that don't give your receipts like the farmer's market, etc. It's good to do because we had no idea where the money was going, but now I just do it in random 1 or 2 month periods because I can't stay ahead of the receipt pile. (I know, Ingrid, this is probably the most important part. Comment, please!) At least now, it's not quite so vague who gets our dough.
That's really all there is to it. It's called living within your means and it is hard. I don't know how our grandparents did it, since they didn't have credit card offers in the mail every day. But they did do it, and so can we.

one problem we've mostly solved, and one we haven't

2007-01-09T19:17:00.000-08:00

mostly solved:
Despite the five college degrees between us, it took DH and me 13 years of married life to figure out one simple economic principle:

you should try to spend only what you actually have.

Which means, of course, not putting a few hundred (or thousand) on the credit card and then paying it off within a few months.

We learned a budgeting system based on cash and envelopes from LCS and her DH (who learned it from someone else), and it's so simple that it's embarrassing: take out cash for a particular time frame (in our case, two weeks); look at how much you have left _before_ you buy; and try to spend carefully so that you make it through the two weeks. It really cramps my style in obnoxious ways -- I can no longer spend guilt-free on the credit card, thinking, 'surely we must make enough to cover these inexpensive clothes that I'm buying on sale.' I must say, it really stinks to live within your means.

the one we haven't:
I'm thinking about money and how we do or don't spend it right now because the kids and I just had (should I admit this? I'll probably get reported to the bad mother bureau) quesadillas, pasta, and peas for dinner. The envelopes are running pretty dry, but not that dry; we do have money for groceries. (Just not warm coats. Or gloves. Just kidding, mom!). However, we seem to have a problem with "should have gone grocery shopping two days ago" disease around here. We generally *don't* prefer to go solo w/our darling, perfect children right now (who want to either both be in the back of the cart. or both insist on pushing the cart, under my/dh's legs. or both want to explore the hinterlands of Winco at their leisure.) So, we'll say, "oh, I'll go tonight after dinner." -- And then that night will come, and it'll be dark out (as nights generally are), and sometimes cold, and we'll blog around or you tube 4 minute segments of _Whose Line is it Anyway_ or read books or plan our kitchen remodel or stand on the threshold, admiring our darling, perfect, sleeping children, and groceries don't get bought.

At least I always blog about significant cultural, societal, and moral issues....

Anyone else out there think this is funny?

2007-01-08T15:01:00.000-08:00

Yesterday on my way around town, I had a grown man play car games with me. I'm still puzzled by his behavior and his point.
I was driving on the freeway in the family car with two kids in tow. It's a Volvo, and you can't scream "family car" any louder than that. I was doing the speed limit plus 5 (or ten, maybe) (you aren't reading this, right, Mom?) when the left lane slowed down to 5 below the speed limit. This drives me bonkers, and I don't really know why, but seriously I think my blood pressure goes up 10 points when the left lane goes the speed limit or less. (An aside: People comment on the Bay Area traffic, but let me tell you it has nothing on the Central Valley. There: 6 lanes, so you can always get around somehow. Here: 2 lanes. Good luck passing Farmer Brown checking out the crops. In the left lane, of course.)
So with the left lane going too slow, I changed to the right. Over there, a semi was driving the speed limit. So back to the left lane I went. (Yes, DH does not approve of this tactic, but he wasn't in the car.) I got behind the same car that was doing the speed limit moments before, although this time no one was ahead of him. So he slowed even further. Going 45 miles per hour, folks, right there in the LEFT hand lane. We finally passed the semi and I got in the right lane again to try and pass the clown. He speeds up to 80 mph. You know the drill, I ended up back in the left hand lane after someone's granny turns up in the right lane going slow. (I have nothing against her. If she's uncomfortable going fast, she's at least in the correct lane for it.) So the guy plays the "can't pass me" game for about 5 miles. I wasn't late to where I was going so it really didn't bug me, but when I finally did get around him he was laughing and waving like it was really funny. And he had a wife (I'm supposing, maybe a girlfriend) and a child in the back of his car. And he looked relatively together (from the elbows up at least). So I'm ruling out the following behavior:
1. Flirting. Duh on this one.
2. Drunkenness. He never swerved and his judgement was spot on. He knew exactly how to not let me pass.
3. Anger. It's possible that I could have angered him with some manouver I hadn't realized was angering, but he was laughing and waving after I did pass, so...?
4. Playing the funnyman. Maybe he thought he was being comical but he's just bad at it. Not only that, it's a little dangerous to do that since many people where I live carry handguns. And it's irritating. And as we all know, handguns and irritation just don't mix.
So am I missing the punchline? Or do you, too, think it's funny to play with people in traffic and not allow them to pass?

So... I guess I am turning into my mother after all.

2007-01-05T13:48:00.000-08:00

After every family vacation, whether it was a long weekend at the beach or a week out of state, our mom would always say (promptly upon opening the front door), "Oh, it feels so good to be home!" At precisely the same time, I would roll my eyes and think, "My mom is such an old lady!! How could she be so excited about the same old boring life?" And then I grew up.
I'm proud to say after two and 1/2 weeks away from our little house, I'm truly glad glad glad to be home. It's weird, because I'm *not* a homebody in the least and a day where I go nowhere is a day that gets me one step closer to the loony bin. But as soon as the tires hit the driveway gravel, I felt like I could breathe again. Welcome home to me.
So a recap of our trip:
Week 1 was spent across the country with friends of mine from my time in graduate school. One couple I know relatively well is in the process of adopting and it was so heartwarming to think of them finally becoming the parents they've dreamed of becoming. We can't wait to hear of their new arrival. The highlight of the week was a wedding of an adopted brother of mine... (not officially adopted but he's been like my little brother ever since we met). I LOVE his new wife, and their ceremony was sweet, simple and brought tears to my eyes. They are one of those couples who just go together SO well. Their families mix nicely and it was so wonderful to be part of their beginning. Then it was off to a long plane ride... with the newlyweds!! We didn't realize it but we ended up on the same flight! They were so gracious, and even took the kids for some of the time. We'd offered to sit on the opposite side of the plane and not acknowledge them, but they wanted to be near us... It was a great way to say goodbye!
Week 2 was in the mountains with DH's family. Lots of junk food, football games and playing in the snow, which was super fun. We did our Christmas presents there, and had a good time with six crazy kids ripping paper and opening boxes! I've said it before, but I'm so thankful for wonderful inlaws who are my friends.
So now we are reaping the benefits of those opened boxes and Boy #1 is flatly refusing to come out of his room. (: Hope your days were merry and bright too.
So after this devastatingly exciting post, I'll

Well, that wasn't so bad...

2006-12-25T07:06:00.000-08:00

After my internal and external ba-humbugging of the holidays, we're actually in the midst of a fun time. We'd made cookies on Saturday, and yesterday DH and #1 took them around to our new neighbors. We live in a cul-de-sac with folks who are mostly in the 65+ set, which we both really like. They ooohed over #1 and began sharing some of the stories of the neighborhood.

Last night we started a new tradition: cheese fondue for Christmas Eve. It was just the four of us, and so we ate good, simple food and then the kids unwrapped, oh, four presents or so each. It was the perfect amount of "stuff," in my opinion--they were grateful, and excited, and are happily playing with their things this morning.

And now we have a few things to get ready to take over to a friend's house for a full day of eating and playing. Yay for that!

(Welcome back to the left coast, LCS!! Post soon!)

Happy Unholiday

2006-12-18T07:18:00.000-08:00

I was talking with a friend the other day who has done more and more for Christmas as the years go by; I, however, seem to be doing less and less. Not to be all bah-humbuggy or anything, but Christmas has rubbed me increasingly wrong for many (totally personal) reasons: the "aren't you buying your kids a mountain of presents?" question from friends; the "go spend lots of money that you might not have" advertiser stance; the "celebrate the birth of someone that was not actually born on December 25 or even close to it" religious perspective.

Don't get me wrong: I'm all for being with family, hanging out, eating too much, and enjoying time together. I have nothing against presents, either. It's kind of awkward to be for a low-key Christmas; it's like being "against" apple pie, or the Constitution, or something. I'm just trying not to feel the pressure to do something that we don't have the money or the interest in doing (the present blitz is largely what I'm referring to).

But here's to overdoses of hot chocolate and too many games of Battleship. Now that's my idea of a holiday well-spent!

Merry Holidays to all and to all a good night!

2006-12-15T16:54:00.000-08:00

Am having blogger's block, I guess. Just not a lot to say. That and the fact that we are leaving for two weeks on two different trips complete with snow suits and presents, I haven't posted much as of late. But Before I am actually absent in body, I thought I'd wish you all a happy holidays.
I, like Carrie, adore this season. I like the twinkly lights, the great smelling kitchens, the excitement in my toddlers eyes when he sees Santa, candy canes, decorations and... the ballet. We didn't see the traditional Nutcracker in all its Sugar Plum glory. Instead, I opted to take him and the baby to a local production of The Snow Maiden. It was ballet at its homespun finest. Complete with 3-year old ballerinas dressed as reindeer (confused reindeer, but reindeer nonetheless), a very akward snowman (who, by the look on his face, was one of the girls' brother who got roped into this silly show), and (perhaps best of all) someone's dad playing Father Winter. I know it was someone's dad because he didn't have a lot of ballet-ic flair to his step and he was wearing Merrells instead of slippers. That, and I could see his sweat pants beneath his white pope-y robe. All in all, it was 30 minutes of good fun. Boy #1 *loved* it, since it was too short to be bored and so small he was about 6 inches from the newfallen styrofoam snow as well as the reindeer, which were his favorite part.
So the moral of the story is: If you're feeling a little out of sync with the jingles on the radio and the pleas for your money from department stores, check out your local ballet school. It just might bring back your love for Christmas. And truly nothing is more effectove in bringing a smile to your face than your local plumber spinning around on plastic snow.

The State Boys' Rebellion--book review

2006-12-09T20:56:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Lisa,*, last time I visited the library I went to the front desk and picked up the books that I'd requested ahead of time. No, this is not the ideal way to use a library--I love browsing and looking--but it *is* ideal when you have two cakesniffers** in tow. My favorite of the lot I've read so far is _The State Boys' Rebellion_. It's nonfiction and therefore all the more disturbing; it's about the thousands of children who weren't even mentally "retarded" at all, but who got assigned to state schools for "feebleminded" children. The book describes the indescribably horrific conditions of these schools, the awful torture that the patients/students endured, and the social issues surrounding uncomfortable ideas of our not-too-distant past about eugenics and other equally awful ideals.

I could say more, but I need to go to bed--I've been meaning to write a little about this book for a while, though. Reading about the abuse (no, it really is torture) of children is not something I'd *choose* to do, but it was reading I needed to do.

*I know how to link to her blog, but not to the exact day when she listed a bunch of books. Hmm.

*see Lemony Snicket if you haven't already.

Husbands That Rock

2006-12-09T08:49:00.000-08:00

LCS's husband--get this: for her birthday, he
took.
her.
shopping.
For clothes. In a mall. And encouraged her to spend money

This, my friends, is amazing. I stand in complete awe at how she found him!

(Just for the record, he has other incredible traits too that are probably more important. But this one...wow.)

Things I can't imagine

2006-12-06T14:14:00.000-08:00

The story of the missing San Francisco family in Oregon has been so much on my mind. I always wonder what it is about certain stories that capture us, and others that don't. The press conference had me in tears... and I'm not generally tearful about what is reported in the news, maybe because it just feels so far away. But the exhausted look of this sheriff, and the awful, hard work he and his staff must have gone through to come to the tragic ending just does me in. I think there's a lot of missing information, like why in a zillion years anyone would have taken a back road when there's snow on the ground, but that is all irrelevant now. Now, two girls won't have a daddy at their school plays. He won't coach their softball teams or take them to piano lessons. And their mom has her own losses as well as trying in some way to compensate for his absence.
How would you ever explain to your sweet babies what happened?

With no dishwasher??

2006-12-03T19:52:00.000-08:00

While bemoaning our current dishwasher-less state, I was thinking about my mother's grandmother who homesteaded in eastern Montana. The word Montana might whisper of mountains to you, but eastern Montana absolutely defines the plains. The flat, flat plains.
This woman would be my great-grandmother and she lived out in the middle of nowhere (no exaggeration) with none of the following: running water, hot water heater, electricity, cars, microwave oven, and (gasp!) no dishwasher. Imagine raising 9 kids (or maybe it was only 8?) with none of those things. Granted, she didn't have to run them all over town for soccer practice or piano lessons, and she didn't find things she needed at Target on a daily basis, but life surely was a lot of hard work.
I got to thinking about which modern convenience I would send to my overworked ancestor. I think if I could send anything back in time to her, it would not be a dishwasher. It would be hot and cold running water, right into the ol' kitchen. Either that or Triple Chunk Brownie mix.
So I pose the question to you, dear reader(s?). Lurkers and regular commentors alike, what would you send to your forebears to make their lives easier? (And no fair saying something like "the wheel". I'm not talking that far back.)

A life in boxes

2006-12-03T19:00:00.000-08:00

Our stuff always looks so tawdry when it's or pulled out of cardboard boxes. At least for now, though, these simple things of ours are in an as-permanent-as-any-location-gets location. It's a relief to be moved in; it's fantastical to have a 5-minute commute; it's more than we'd ever imagined to be a block from the river.

The house is certainly not perfect, but it's really nice and nearly exactly what we needed. Except for the very old carpet. Oh, and there are the metal windows that sweat. And the 80s kitchen with the lowered ceiling (why *did* that seem attractive?) And the fact that, oddly, the washer and dryer are in the kitchen. But we feel very, very lucky to be here--in fact, we're far outclassed in this neighborhood. Ah well--they don't know yet that us country folk will bring the property values down :)

In the meantime, feel free to stop by! Perhaps by then we'll have the guest room available for guests, rather than for (you guessed it) boxes.

Shoe Shining

2006-11-27T20:19:00.000-08:00

On a recent trip that involved several walks through airports, I noticed, again, a practice that has always struck me as strange: grown men, sitting in large chairs, having their shoes shined by other men.

There are two reasons this practice bothers me: first, this seems like some kind of semi-private act that one normally does in one's bedroom, and I often feel some mild sensation of embarrassment as I walk by. True, there's nothing obscene about it--but it seems akin to ironing one's shirt in public, or maybe having one's hair brushed. Why is it socially acceptable for fully adult men to have other men polish their shoes in the middle of a walkway?

Secondly, I'll admit, there's something about the sight of men in business suits sitting on throne-like chairs having their shoes rubbed by men in workclothes bending over their feet that just rubs me wrong. It's some strange overt physical manifestation of class that looks so awkward to me.

I know, I know--I must be the only person who thinks this. But there it is.

post-Thanksgiving

2006-11-26T17:49:00.000-08:00

Things are quiet in blogland--folks must still be recovering from turkey overdoses. We're back in our hometown with an across-the-city move in front of us this week--much less daunting than an across-the-country move. A good time was had by all this past week, with lots of family in a pretty small space. We even had a dinner out with LCS and her DH while grandma and grandpa watched the kids--lovely.

And now it's back to rain/snow and work tomorrow. Sigh. It was fun while it lasted, though!

testing...

2006-11-19T18:49:00.000-08:00

...why isn't our blog showing up? I'll try a new post and see what happens.

What do some fraternity boys and a Romanian village have in common?

2006-11-14T14:51:00.000-08:00

There are lots of things I don't understand and don't really care that I don't understand. But the currently-famous comedian Borat is one thing I very much don't get. And it kind of bothers me.
First, I must make the disclaimer that I haven't seen his movie and have no intention to do so, thus I'm posting this with only a vague sense of what his schtick is about. I know that he poses as a reporter from Khazakstan who is touring the US and interviews people and basically makes fools of them, all in good fun. But the other thing he does is go to a desperately poor area of Romania, which is used as the setting for his homeland in this movie. He basically makes them out to be poor saps who do crazy things like live with cows (in their homes) and marry their sisters and such. He pays them anywhere from $3.30-$5.30 to do things like put cows in their homes and act like Third World stereotypes that the First World's citizen's already believe. Without telling them this is going to be a movie that US (and other) movie-goers will see and laugh at. And apparently it's... funny?

I guess no one should pick on anyone in front of a global audience without their express permission, so I should feel bad for all the Americans as well as the Romanians (Gypsies, actually) who were duped. Two fraternity brothers have sued him for defamation, claiming they had no idea what his intentions were. I'd be quite annoyed if it were me. But my heart really goes out to the Romanians. Picking on frat boys whose lives, let's be honest, are far from drudgery, is silly. But making people out to be chumps when they already have nothing is plain mean-hearted. These are people who scrounge for food to eat, don't have electricity and live in tin-roofed shacks. Does he end his day thinking, "I really made the world a better place today"? Or perhaps, "I really made a zillion dollars off of that guy's pathetic situation"?

Will someone explain what's so funny about this guy? Have I completely lost my sense of humor?

A house is found!

2006-11-13T20:13:00.000-08:00

We signed the last counter-offer papers tonight! Yippee! We have an amazing, tireless, incredibly patient realtor who must have shown us every house in some areas of Mountain City. We shopped and shopped and shopped some more; I was totally tired of looking at houses, but DH never wearied and would patiently check the new listings every evening. Something popped up as newly reduced last week; we looked at it last Friday night and made an offer.

It needs some updating, but it's *steps* from an amazing bike path here and in a very cool sub. It'll feel *great* to finally be a bit more settled--even if it is in 1980s architecture.

Hip-hip-hooray for us!

kid music

2006-11-12T19:18:00.000-08:00

Another parenting post! It's a nice break in the midst of teaching classes, writing up classroom observations from thirteen new teaching assistants, trying to keep on top of academic administrative trivia and important matters, planning for the b-day lunch/party, looking for a house, getting ready to be gone for three days next week.

I'm sitting here at my computer humming Chenille Sisters songs that were playing at our house last night--they're great! It's kid music that's not annoying or saccharine. Our kids mostly listen to what we listen to--but they love "Frieda" (really, "Free to be You and Me") and they like this one too--in the car #1 was humming "Teaching Hippopatomi to Fly" tunelessly).

Any kid music you really like?

one moment in raising a daughter

2006-11-06T09:06:00.000-08:00

#1 and I went clothes shopping this weekend. (Side note: believe me, while our daughter has at various points in her life had far too many clothes, right now she does not. Case in point: the last two weeks have been filled with morning struggles over getting her into appropriate clothes. Since all that was in her dresser were the lonely, stained, straggly remains from summer, she'd show up to school (after tears and wailing) in a t-shirt and skirt with bare legs. At 37 degrees, it's no suprise her preschool teacher was ready to report us to child protective services.)

She has very particular tastes in clothes, and in our shopping, she lit on some sparkly long-sleeved t-shirts with various sayings on them. While I absolutely refuse to get her t-shirts with obnoxious sayings like "the princess has spoken" and others along that line, she luckily picked out one that read, "my friends are awesome." While this isn't on my list of things I'd want to wear on a shirt, she is *in love* with this shirt.

This morning, she quietly took her coat off on the walk down the hall at school. She rubbed the sparkles and smiled to herself, repeating, "my friends are awesome. My shirt says 'my friends are awesome.'"

It made me happy--happy that thinking about her friends makes her happy, happy that she got dressed without tears, happy to have a sunny girl who likes people and is satisfied with long-sleeved t-shirts.

birthday party update

2006-11-04T15:45:00.000-08:00

...I'm trying really hard not to fall into the "I have to be a perfect mom" trap. The problem is that I'd *like* to be really crafty, and I'd like to have really, really cool/memorable/splashy parties for the kids. But the other problem is that I'm not especially crafty.

(On a separate but related note, we went to such a cute birthday party last night: an indoor camp-out with hot dogs for the kids, tents set up, trail mix, cupcakes with "dirt" and "sticks." It was great--the kids had a ball, it was homegrown, and really cute. I was impressed.)

In conversations with both LCS and my sister-in-law (both of whom are great party-throwers totally fun ways) this week, they reminded me (patiently) that the point of birthday parties for small kids is not to cause stress for the parents. What would my kids enjoy most? Playing with their new Mountain State Town friends.

So on Friday, I did one swoop through the party store (which has lots of fun stuff for a hula party--SIL, maybe some year??) and got everything: a few simple treats for some very simple goody bags for the kids; plates/bowls/etc in primary colors; invitations. We'll invite about 12 kids and 15 adults for chili and salad next Sunday. I'll get balloons and a cake.

It'll be low-key and, I hope, really fun.

Two reviews and an odd little story.

2006-11-02T22:46:00.000-08:00

An update on recently mentioned books:
If you find gardening the slightest bit amusing or relaxing, or if the idea of growing your own food produces some romantic sense of accomplishment, read *The $64 Tomato*. It's well written, funny, informative... just a really good read. Perhaps his book was more meaningful and hilarious to me in light of the fact that I once thought we should maximize our own 1/2-acre by planting 80 fruit trees. Let's just say my level headed husband got me down to 5 trees and I think that's about all we'll be able to handle. The author, William Alexander, has no such spouse. He had the notion that it'd be great to produce most of his own food, organically, the way nature intended and the way people (including his father) used to do on their own land, by their own toil. So with the help of a landscape architect, he designs a garden with 22 beds. Yep, twenty-two beds of soil waiting to be planted, weeded, weeded, weeded and then harvested at some point (with luck). There are definitely unforeseen challenges, but the book is not so self-depricating that he loses all the readers' respect. Really, read this book. It doesn't have a genre, so don't say to yourself, "I just don't know if that's the kind of book I'd like." Unless you've never bought even a houseplant hoping for miracles, you'll be able to relate.

And another quick review on a book that definitely falls into a genre:
Just got done with *Me Times Three* by Alex Witchel. Super-duper chick lit fluff and good stuff at that. Want a little romance, a little deceit, a few handsome dudes, and bad bosses all set in NYC? Then this is the book for you. I hadn't found a good, fun read like this for a while, so I was happily turning the pages through this one. Definitely no Pulitzer Prize in the future, but it has the kind of ending that makes you hope for a sequel so you can find out what happens after they get the house in the suburbs. Sigh. Sometimes our brains just need a little break. Even from gardening.

And one more thing that falls into the this-should-be-in-another-post-but-it's-not:
Have you heard about this? So a bunch of letters apparently addressed to a now-deceased pastor wash up on the Jersey shore, and no one with any connection to the pastor can be found. There's no family, no friends to speak of, and basically no one wants to claim responsibility for these letters. And so these letters, which consist of many people's deepest secrets, are going to be sold... on ebay. I'm as curious as the next guy about what written in them, but doesn't this seem a little cold? These are people begging for forgiveness for abortions they've had, or hoping the father of their baby will marry them... hmm. Hope my family's skeletons aren't in that closet.

Two things I've heard (maybe only cute to those I'm related to)

2006-11-01T15:55:00.000-08:00

I was teaching Boy #1 one of my favorite little ditties, "This Land is Your Land". While we were singing in the car, he wanted to clarify: "No, Mommy, that land is your land and this land is my land." I think we've missed the point. Sorry, Mr. Guthrie.

Also heard in our house:
After I snuck a little piece of chocolate chip cookie, I went to check on the tooth brushing progress of Boy #2. "What do you have in your mouth, Mom?" he said. "Nothing," was my obvious reply. To which he said, "Then why do you smell like chocolate?"

changing the terms

2006-10-28T11:50:00.000-07:00

So I'm sitting in an Advising Institute that's to help faculty learn how to advise students more productively. I'm more aware than ever of how challenging can be, even in very small arenas, to change the ways we use language.

For example: there's a simulataneous push-me-pull-you in our cultural discourse surrounding college. College profs often bemoan students who are overly focused on accumulating credits towards their degree rather than focusing on the learning that's going on. And yet here, like most public universities, we have multiple ways that students can pretty literally "buy" courses (eg., take a $5 test and see whether you too can get credit for your first-semester writing course! hey, maybe you can take it while you're still in high school!). Why in tarnation *wouldn't* students be focused on college-as-credit-grabbing when that's the way _we_ market it to them?

This drives me crazy, to understate it. Part of my goal here is to get _all_ of us on campus to focus less on how to help students get general education courses "out of the way" and focus more on all that students can learn within a particular course--and putting *students* in charge of thinking really hard about what kinds of experiences and learning they want to have.

Sorry to get all job-by on you all. Now, back to family and books and fun.

Another tragedy we should not forget...

2006-10-27T14:32:00.000-07:00

I'm not trying to cover up my sister's last post (see below) but I want to address this tragedy in Riverside which has so far taken the lives of 4 brave firefighters. (A fifth firefighter is in critical condition.) I don't understand the mind of the arsonist and I don't know if I could summon up the kindness this particular one (or ones) need. Now there are four, and potentially five, families who are grieving the loss of someone who just wanted to do right in the world. When I say goodbye to my DH and he goes off to his shift, I often don't even think about the danger he could face. But really, it's just a numbskull's work that could leave my kids fatherless and me a widow. I hope those families have good support and lots of love to help them through this awful experience.

consistency--my problem in all aspects of life!

2006-10-26T18:46:00.000-07:00

I was glad that Lisa posted her challenge here--I'm taking it up, even if it's not once a day--I do want to be a better blogger, and part of it is just in getting more consistent. LCS and I had a long chat the other day about, among other things, how we want to keep this blog lively, and how much we love it when conversation breaks out in the comments. The "smart" part of SS for me was asking my sister to do this with me--her posts totally crack me up. My own students can only wish for a teacher as witty and smart as she is!

So, a vow to write more often, about various topics--including but not limited to
--interesting books, chick lit and otherwise;
--learning to live in a new place;
--children;
--balancing work and family (or see-sawing it. Or plate-spinning them.);
--designing fabulous kids' birthday parties that don't involve hugely creative mom input.

Ideas?

Your friendly book reviewer returns with another opinion (surprise!)

2006-10-22T20:10:00.000-07:00

WARNING: I'm going to blow the plot line for you here, so quit reading this post if that bugs you. The reality is I'm saving you from reading a terrible book.
After a lively discussion of chick lit a few posts back, I now bring you a chick lit book to avoid. If you've ever fallen in love with the adventures of Bridget Jones, don't forget that authors rarely maintain their literary prowess after writing fun books like those.
Helen Fielding wrote *Olivia Joules and the Overactive Imagination* which, I regret to say, is worth putting down. And not picking up again. I have to hope that a ghost writer was involved because it is so bad on so many levels. The plot is silly and completely unrealistic. The writing is plain terrible. The whole book is about as smooth as an airplane ride in a thunderstorm. It's as though Ms. Fielding's editor made some suggestions, and Ms. Fielding, feeling like quite the acclaimed author, simply said, "Whatever," and continued writing trash.
The first person we meet is Olivia. (Insignificant sidenote: just for fun, Olivia changed her name upon entering adulthood because her entire family had been killed in an auto accident and now she's decided to reinvent herself. Whatever.) She's one of those working-really-hard-but-not-making-it-because-her-(male)-boss-doesn't-get-her-work types. She works at a newspaper in London and instead of hard hitting news, she's relagated to the Style section. Never mind that her character development seems rather appropriate to a person writing in the Style section, but again, whatever. As the gripping plot develops she meets up with terrorists posing as perfumiers, terrorists posing as divers in Honduras and even goes to cover a pretend story (she goes undercover) in the Sudan, sponsored by a (you guessed it) terrorist posing as an Arabian Nights type of prince in shining camel. Basically she has hunches that this one guy is a terrorist and contacts the British CIA folks and goes undercover, except that there's another British spy playing both sides who outs her. The really, super-duper gripping part of the story involves her spy ring (which I thought was something you got in a Happy Meal, but according to this it's real spy equiptment), her gas bomb (which knock out the terrorist who eventually hold her captive) and her spy kit. Puh-lease. It's so dumb, I can't even write about it. (Oh, and did I mention this really unpredictable part where she falls in love with another spy who has something like a "rock hard chest rippling with muscles". AAAAAAAAHHH! I can't believe I read this book cover to cover!)
The moral of the story is, if you've written one or two fun, good books, don't rest on your laurels and think people will eat up whatever garbage you produce. This book is awful and even the biggest Briget Jones fan knows it. Unless your only other option is a thousand needles in your eye, don't waste your time on this one.

And yet there's hope! I'm currently reading *The $64 Tomato* by William Alexander. (Wouldn't you love a name you could shorten to Bill Al?) It's great fun, particularly because I've been in yard and garden crisis ever since we moved into this house. A positive review is sure to follow, unless the last half of this book takes a great big turn for the worse.

And in other child abuse-related news...

2006-10-13T13:36:00.000-07:00

This just in from Florida. Seems this 9-yr old's parents were so concerned about their son's safety that they kept him in a deadbolted bedroom for the past 3 years. He was under video surveillance 24 hrs a day. He's had no school, no medical attention, no friends, and is only allowed to leave the room once a day to go to the bathroom.
The child's mother defended the actions of the father (I guess he was the warden in this situation) by saying they were trying to protect him from a relative who had molested their son (or another child, that was unclear) some years ago. The child's paternal grandmother defended the warden/father saying that he is simply a control freak, and he knows it. Huh? Apparently any act is defensible if you don't consider the impact on others.
The child's mother also said their son was rather hyperactive. No kidding. If I keep my three year old in the house all day long, he's rather bananas. And how did she conclude he is hyperactive (and not just a normal, energy-filled child) since he hasn't had medical care in three years?
After he was found in his underwear in a urine-scented room, the police department reported that he said he had to keep pinching himself, because "days like this just don't come along very often." By "days like this" he meant days you get to leave your room.
So what's my point? As far as I understand it, there will always be nut jobs in this world who do ridiculous things and in their own minds are completely justified and rational. That's called mental illness (or personality disorder). But what about all the people who are so willing to defend the nut jobs' actions? That's what makes me nervous.
Whole towns turned a blind eye to the atrocities of Hitler's regime, perhaps based on fearing the consequences. But what mother, what grandmother, can know what is going on in a home and not be concerned enough to take action on behalf of a 9-year old boy with no friends? My bet is, more than we'd like to think.
When this whole Iraq war/terrorist stuff got started and John Ashcroft encouraged us to report any suspicious activity, even though we didn't necessarily know what that might be, something closer to home was ignored. Why has no one ever said this: Americans, it is your duty to take action when an adult is abusing or neglecting a child. Quite honestly, the social ramifications of years of deprivation or abuse might be of greater impact than a suspicious gathering of people playing checkers in the park. Someday, maybe we'll have learned that lesson. Unfortunately it might not be a very comfortable lesson to learn.
Love up your babies. Protect them from bad things and bad people. And teach them not to turn away when other people are in need.

Where did that come from?

2006-10-10T16:34:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you've all heard this week's story of the woman who used her 4-week old baby as a weapon in a domestic dispute. That's right, 4 WEEK old baby. Seems she and her current flame were drinking and fighting and she just starting picking things up and throwing them. Her defense is that she just didn't realize what she had grabbed until after the baby's head hit her man. As her beau explains, "People are trying to make a big deal about it, but she did not do it on purpose. ... It was just a mistake," he said. (Thanks to msn.com for that quote.)
Wow. A new societal low.
Apparently after she weilded the baby as a bat, her boyfriend punched her in the eye, which accounts for the lovely one-eyed mug shot.
Will someone please take those children far from these abusers* and give them half a chance to succeed in life?

*Abusers not just because of what she did with a newborn baby (which is horrific and bad enough by itself), but because all five of her kids were witnesses to what seems to be their rather frequent domestic disturbances. So now they have taught them how to abuse and how to be abused, setting them up for failure.

All noisy on many Fronts

2006-10-09T11:48:00.000-07:00

Since it's been almost 2 wks since I've posted, I thought I'd get you off the edge of your seats by filling the posting box with a few random items you've all been wondering about.

On the Dead Mouse front: Unfortunately I cannot report success. We caught one mouse on the first day of trapping season, and since that time, not one mouse has wanted our peanut butter. We've got sticky traps, spring traps, plastic traps, you name it. DeCon is the only thing we don't have because our baby is a little too adventurous to attempt that safely. Suggestions, anyone? I have to admit, it's really super-duper fun to live with my kitchen stuff spread out all over the house (so as to prevent having to wash them all again). Knives are in the laundry room in a box on the dryer. Cookie sheets? In my bedroom. Bowls? Top of the fridge. So every meal includes a scavenger hunt, which is really a hoot. Highly recommend.
On the Boy #1 front: He turned 3 last week. He's too old. He can ride a bike. And he has more monster trucks, cars and other items with wheels than would seem humanly possible. BUT. He really does play with them, so I don't feel too bad. (Or should I?)
The Book front: Just finished reading *The Ha-Ha*, as recommended by Lisa and jmbmommy (thanks). LOVED it. I was cautiously optimistic because the story seemed a little depressing, or maybe just frustrating. (The main character can't speak. I, for one, would call it a day if that were my situation.) But it was wonderful and uplifting, in an not-all-tied-up-in-a-bow kind of way. Great.
The SAHM front: I am going to quit writing about that, because y'all must be bored of hearing it. I'm just going to have to find a way to get myself out of the tedium of days with kids ad nauseum ad infinitum. They are delightful, wonderful human beings, walking definitions of the meaning of joy. But, I need some growed-up things to do as well, as Boy #1 would say.
The yard (back and front): I have really enjoyed working in our yard since we've moved here, because it was a mess and it was sort of like starting fresh. I've decided I like plants because they can't talk and when they are need something, it's usually water or fertilizer. I can handle that kind of simplicity.
The sleeping front: I haven't had much because Boy #2 has decided that sleeping through the night isn't all it's cracked up to be. He's waking 3 and 4 times per night (I know there are worse, but...). So I have a new idea. I'll stop thinking about sleep during the day (I just can't nap) and I'll go to bed with the chickens to get my sleep at night. And I like emilyruth's suggestion of doing housework/chores/etc for 20 minutes and then feeling free to surf the net, blog, etc. Guilt-free my time. Like the sound of that.
The kitchen front: (I'm sorry, I didn't realize how many facets to my life there are.) Anyone up for a Dream Dinners party (Jay Are, Lisa?)? My sister-in-law went and said it was actually great food and fun to have dinners planned... no decision making every night!
And my final installment, The family front: We celebrated Boy #1's birthday over the weekend, which was a smashing success because we have a wonderful family! The only downer to the party was that prrrof's family couldn't be here... next time, we hope. But my parents are good fun to have around. They are so friendly, I didn't feel like I needed to escort them around and make introductions. My brother was really good with the kids, they loved him. All my inlaws were here, which in my world, is a good thing. Some people struggle to endure their in-laws, while mine are easily enjoyed. I love them, one and all. And I love how our families get along so well. I have *great* sisters-in-law who are always pitching in and helping or herding kids or whatever. My mother- and father-in-law help out however they can, and have great senses of humor besides. They are all kind, thoughtful and fun people. And no one competes for the love of the grandkids, which is just so nice. I can't tell you how great it is to see my own mom and my mother in law making plans to get together, just the two of them. They are friends. I am truly lucky beyond words.

So that sums it up folks. If your daily dose of Ambien didn't work, surely this did. Sweet dreams.

Moving

2006-10-02T20:18:00.000-07:00

We've now lived here three months. More than any other move we've made, this has been easy. The weather, the terrain, having lots of people in town who are old friends--all of this has made it a good move. It's a move that's felt like a settling-in (even though major portions of our lives are still up in the air. DH is just now working into fuller-time work; we're in a rental house.)

Most of this feeling of being somewhere that "fits" is because of the geography, but not all. I wondered today if I'm finally growing up, just a little bit--if I'm becoming just a little bit more accepting of things, a little bit more able to simply enjoy these rich, wonderful, ordinary days. It's easy for me to just drift; I like life, a lot, and I'm generally (generally) happy where I am. This place feels like one we could be rooted in for a long time, and I want to be rooted in other less tangible ways as well. Moving shouldn't be *only* about changing location, should it?

It's just so strange to think that a year ago we were visiting a pumpkin patch in Midwest State, with no real inkling of where we'd be in a year!

Abandon Bad Books

2006-09-28T17:12:00.000-07:00

Not having mice in this house (that we know of. yet.), I am left to report in not nearly so side-splitting ways about a problem I have: I can't _not_ finish a book. This is *not* a good thing. It means that I waste time reading some silly, horrid books just because I think, "welll...maybe it'll get better ______ (in 50 pages/in the next chapter/by the last sentence).

I just wasted several weekends reading an absolutely abysmal, cliche-packed chick-lit book. I've defended the genre before, but this one was SO bad that it made me embarrassed to be a girl. But mostly, it made me even more embarrassed that I took the time to finish it.

On another note...

2006-09-27T22:48:00.001-07:00

So, to distract you faithful readers from the free-loading rodents residing in my home, I bring you this video. I'm not much of an Anna Nicole Smith fan, but I have to say this really illustrates the importance surrounding yourself with people who are smarter than you. Maybe even having children with them.

Open letter to our incontinent mouse

2006-09-26T21:18:00.000-07:00

Dear House Mouse:
OK, let's get something straight. At one time in my life, I killed (yes, SLAUGHTERED) 15 of your cousins out in New York. Don't think for a minute that I'll let you continue to live rent-free under our roof. And don't expect some sort of new-agey humane trap to await you next time you smell peanut butter. My DH and I, we're old school. We're talking super spring-loaded trap here, Mr. Mouse. Because I'm the queen of this house, and a rather off-with-your-heads type of royalty. But here's the deal. You've got to get more brains into your operation. The thing is, if you didn't poop every two inches whilst running all over the counter, in the cupboards and in the drawers, you'd never get caught. I might not even mind your presence but for the aforementioned evidence of your existence and presence in our humble abode. I enjoy a clean house like anyone, but washing dishes because someone took a laxative and decided to run around in the kitchen with no underwear is no bowl of cherries. I've heard there are enzymes you can take to control that kind of problem. But I digress.
The thing is, this house ain't big enough for all of us. We recognize that there's only four of us (one of which is a mere baby) and probably 300 of you all (since I just read a reassuring blog that mice can produce 263 offspring in one year). But we hope you know in your heart of micey hearts that your game is up. We are taking no prisoners, this is an all out war against you and your kind. Prepare yourself (or don't).
My advice: go find a nearby barn to raid because (a) they have more food there and (b) they probably have a friendly cat to play with. But before you go, just know this. Your decision to visit us has actually convinced my husband that cats just might have a reason to live, and for that I thank you. But the bottom line remains. Get out. Get out before I lose my mind and do something I'll later regret. (Like move into a concrete box sealed off from all rodents.) You give me the creeps.
Sincerely,
The LCS Family

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