I can't believe that some people (including my sisters, in a big way) love to go shopping. I went to the mall today, the big mall on the west side of Madison that I try to avoid because I don't have the store locations memorized.
I always end up parking at the wrong end of the structure, which is the pits, not because I don't need the exercise of walking but because if I carry a reasonably heavy shopping bag in my right hand for any period of time, my fingers go numb (old tendonitis thing).
And there were an insane number of people in this mall for a Friday afternoon. It was quite obvious that at least half of the city's residents that got gift cards for Christmas were there, using the cards up before they started losing value (that's been on the news a lot lately, but I think they're talking about cards unused after a year, people, not after a week!).
I'll admit that the reason I was at the mall at all was to return a few things that Greg got me. I now have a new favorite store to hate--Coldwater Creek. They had two women working at the checkout/return desk and it literally took half an hour for me to get to the front of the line and do my return.
There were people in line both in front and behind me who were not even doing returns. They just wanted to buy something from this store. You have got to be freaking kidding (guess what word I wanted to type there, but my mom reads this blog and she hates swearing, let alone the "f" word).
I was very, very happy to get out of there. Breathe in, breathe out.
Now I can concentrate on looking forward to doing Christmas with my family this weekend. Just what my children need--more toys! I'm kidding, I'm incredibly grateful I have a family that wants to give my children gifts (did I mention they're the only grandchildren?).
We're going to rent the storage locker for all the new stuff on Tuesday.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Sound asleep
Poor Pig, she's home from the vet after a long day and she will feel better as a result of her adventure, but probably not too soon.
We were really concerned early last night because she wasn't drinking. Then we had to take up her food and water at 8 last night because she was going to be put under today.
This morning, the girls and I took her in. The vet put her to sleep, gave her an antibiotic shot, pulled her loose tooth, cleaned the rest of her teeth, gave her fluids, expressed her anal glands (don't ask), cleaned her ears, and prescribed ear drops for a week and capsule antibiotics for two weeks. $288.52.
We couldn't pick her up until after 4 and she even then was still a little wobbly. Pig was very happy to get out of her cat carrier and I was relieved when she went over to her water dish and started drinking. The vet's assistant said she needed to keep drinking tonight to wash out the last of the anesthesia.
Now she's been home for a few hours and she's snoring with her head under the Christmas tree. I can hear her from across the room.
We were really concerned early last night because she wasn't drinking. Then we had to take up her food and water at 8 last night because she was going to be put under today.
This morning, the girls and I took her in. The vet put her to sleep, gave her an antibiotic shot, pulled her loose tooth, cleaned the rest of her teeth, gave her fluids, expressed her anal glands (don't ask), cleaned her ears, and prescribed ear drops for a week and capsule antibiotics for two weeks. $288.52.
We couldn't pick her up until after 4 and she even then was still a little wobbly. Pig was very happy to get out of her cat carrier and I was relieved when she went over to her water dish and started drinking. The vet's assistant said she needed to keep drinking tonight to wash out the last of the anesthesia.
Now she's been home for a few hours and she's snoring with her head under the Christmas tree. I can hear her from across the room.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
And now, the cat
This morning, Pig wended her away around everyone's feet, mewing repeatedly. Not meowing--that's not her style--just mewing rather piteously.
She's a champion at faking that we've forgotten to feed her, so we didn't pay too much attention. When Greg came downstairs, he checked her water dish and cleaned and refilled that (I'd already put food down for her).
Then we all went off on our individual days.
After an entire year in my new job, I spent about 4 1/2 hours this afternoon cleaning out files and making new files to clear off my desktop and tabletop. Tedious, dirty (since my office is located inside a factory), but ultimately satisfying.
When I got home, Greg was sitting on the floor petting Pig. It turns out that one of her bottom teeth, one of the big ones on the corner of her lower left jaw, is loose--in fact, pushed out at a weird angle.
She's 13 1/2 years old, so this kind of thing is rather to be expected, but you still feel sorry for her. She desperately wants to drink but apparently that's quite painful. She did eat about 1/3 of her normal amount of food, but still, something obviously has to be done.
So tomorrow morning, Pig is going to the vet to be put to sleep--not permanently, just with an anesthetic! They'll take care of the loose tooth and check her out for other issues.
We used to be religious about taking our cats in for annual checkups, but since Butterscotch died and we later found out Pig has diabetes, we've kind of been letting things slide. Frankly, it was a relief not to have to chase the Pig from under the furniture to get her into the cat carrier every year.
Nonetheless, Pig is off tomorrow to be seen. I hope she doesn't read this post in the meantime or we'll never find her.
She's a champion at faking that we've forgotten to feed her, so we didn't pay too much attention. When Greg came downstairs, he checked her water dish and cleaned and refilled that (I'd already put food down for her).
Then we all went off on our individual days.
After an entire year in my new job, I spent about 4 1/2 hours this afternoon cleaning out files and making new files to clear off my desktop and tabletop. Tedious, dirty (since my office is located inside a factory), but ultimately satisfying.
When I got home, Greg was sitting on the floor petting Pig. It turns out that one of her bottom teeth, one of the big ones on the corner of her lower left jaw, is loose--in fact, pushed out at a weird angle.
She's 13 1/2 years old, so this kind of thing is rather to be expected, but you still feel sorry for her. She desperately wants to drink but apparently that's quite painful. She did eat about 1/3 of her normal amount of food, but still, something obviously has to be done.
So tomorrow morning, Pig is going to the vet to be put to sleep--not permanently, just with an anesthetic! They'll take care of the loose tooth and check her out for other issues.
We used to be religious about taking our cats in for annual checkups, but since Butterscotch died and we later found out Pig has diabetes, we've kind of been letting things slide. Frankly, it was a relief not to have to chase the Pig from under the furniture to get her into the cat carrier every year.
Nonetheless, Pig is off tomorrow to be seen. I hope she doesn't read this post in the meantime or we'll never find her.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Sick girl update
Since our girls slept in the car on the way home yesterday, we let them stay up an hour past their normal bedtime, until we said we weren't opening any more toys--play with what we've already unboxed!
True to what I told Marcia, sick girl Allie slept through the night, until 5:30 this morning when she called me. She asked for water and sipped a little, then she threw up violently three times over the next hour and a half.
We had thought she was getting better since she made it through the whole day yesterday without tossing her cookies, but no such luck. And she still had a fever.
Mid-morning, I took her to the doctor because this is either the third or fourth day of this crap. We like Dr. Tom, but there was nothing he could do except look at her and charge us $120 for 6 minutes. Oh, well, we know now it's not appendicitis or something.
By the time we got home, Allie was asking if she could try to eat. She and Julia are both napping right now and so far, Allie's kept down the cereal she had for lunch.
Julia's days, however, of hogging all the new toys are probably limited. Allie's been lying languidly on a couch for a long time, and now the sharing (I mean fighting) will soon commence!
True to what I told Marcia, sick girl Allie slept through the night, until 5:30 this morning when she called me. She asked for water and sipped a little, then she threw up violently three times over the next hour and a half.
We had thought she was getting better since she made it through the whole day yesterday without tossing her cookies, but no such luck. And she still had a fever.
Mid-morning, I took her to the doctor because this is either the third or fourth day of this crap. We like Dr. Tom, but there was nothing he could do except look at her and charge us $120 for 6 minutes. Oh, well, we know now it's not appendicitis or something.
By the time we got home, Allie was asking if she could try to eat. She and Julia are both napping right now and so far, Allie's kept down the cereal she had for lunch.
Julia's days, however, of hogging all the new toys are probably limited. Allie's been lying languidly on a couch for a long time, and now the sharing (I mean fighting) will soon commence!
Monday, December 25, 2006
Merry Christmas!
Hello, we're home, thank goodness. I truly love to visit my in-law's home--it's very comfortable, they're wonderful company, we get to see all of Greg's family members, my parents-in-law sleep near our kids so we don't get woken up in the night, the food is wonderful. But.
They all live almost 4 hours away and just the anticipation of the long journey home is enough to add a sour note of dread to our every visit.
Plus there's more. Allie threw up in the car on the way down on Saturday and we thought it was just carsickness.
Then she spiked a fever on Christmas Eve day, she threw up several more times, and she's been completely uncharacteristically quiet and listless considering there are piles of new toys everywhere.
Meanwhile, Julia missed her nap yesterday, both girls slept poorly last night, and both woke up early today. On the way home in the car this afternoon, they both fell asleep for a good two hours. That was a blessing.
So now we're home, Santa came here too so there were even more fun things to unwrap, but neither girl has eaten well since this morning.
Allie managed to barely make it through the day without throwing up but she still has a low-grade fever, Julia is still healthy, we're feeling OK if tired, and tomorrow, no one has to go anywhere and no one is visiting.
I really hope the girls sleep in, but I think the scent of new toys will waft upstairs and wake them up early. That's a big part of what their Christmas is about, after all.
I hope you all got what you wanted for Christmas, even if that was just a day off from work. Happy Holidays!
They all live almost 4 hours away and just the anticipation of the long journey home is enough to add a sour note of dread to our every visit.
Plus there's more. Allie threw up in the car on the way down on Saturday and we thought it was just carsickness.
Then she spiked a fever on Christmas Eve day, she threw up several more times, and she's been completely uncharacteristically quiet and listless considering there are piles of new toys everywhere.
Meanwhile, Julia missed her nap yesterday, both girls slept poorly last night, and both woke up early today. On the way home in the car this afternoon, they both fell asleep for a good two hours. That was a blessing.
So now we're home, Santa came here too so there were even more fun things to unwrap, but neither girl has eaten well since this morning.
Allie managed to barely make it through the day without throwing up but she still has a low-grade fever, Julia is still healthy, we're feeling OK if tired, and tomorrow, no one has to go anywhere and no one is visiting.
I really hope the girls sleep in, but I think the scent of new toys will waft upstairs and wake them up early. That's a big part of what their Christmas is about, after all.
I hope you all got what you wanted for Christmas, even if that was just a day off from work. Happy Holidays!
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Sing, sing a song
Allie's concert turned out to be pretty entertaining today, for a grade school event.
She did a fine job singing her 60s tunes. That was the theme--her music teacher is retiring after this year and so Mrs. Baker did a show with music through the decades. The first graders thus ended up singing the aforementioned "Yellow Submarine" and "Puff the Magic Dragon."
Other classes did do some Christmassy songs, including the dreadful "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer," which was somewhat highlighted by Allie's principal, Mr. Jamison, putting on a dress and wig (he's normally pretty bald) and pretending to get run over.
They also had kids dressing up as Bing Crosby and Doris Day, Elvis, and the Beatles.
The biggest hit of the concert, though, had to be when the kindergarteners sang "Rubber Duckie" from Sesame Street and Allie's two gym teachers were pushed out in a cardboard bathtub, wearing only swim trunks and Bert and Ernie heads.
Allie thought the funny part was their handheld bubble machines. I thought it was her age 25ish gym teacher scrubbing under his arm with a scrub brush, while her age 50ish gym teacher waved and tried to stay down in the tub.
Good clean fun!
She did a fine job singing her 60s tunes. That was the theme--her music teacher is retiring after this year and so Mrs. Baker did a show with music through the decades. The first graders thus ended up singing the aforementioned "Yellow Submarine" and "Puff the Magic Dragon."
Other classes did do some Christmassy songs, including the dreadful "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer," which was somewhat highlighted by Allie's principal, Mr. Jamison, putting on a dress and wig (he's normally pretty bald) and pretending to get run over.
They also had kids dressing up as Bing Crosby and Doris Day, Elvis, and the Beatles.
The biggest hit of the concert, though, had to be when the kindergarteners sang "Rubber Duckie" from Sesame Street and Allie's two gym teachers were pushed out in a cardboard bathtub, wearing only swim trunks and Bert and Ernie heads.
Allie thought the funny part was their handheld bubble machines. I thought it was her age 25ish gym teacher scrubbing under his arm with a scrub brush, while her age 50ish gym teacher waved and tried to stay down in the tub.
Good clean fun!
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Older child update
Today at school, Allie made a gingerbread house (actually a graham cracker house, but let's not be picky).
Each family of each student was assigned something to contribute. Our contribution was just a box of graham crackers; fortunately we weren't in the "make royal frosting" group. If you don't know, royal frosting is the glue that keeps gingerbread houses together and I believe it's quite challenging to keep the stuff from turning into a block of concrete after you mix it.
Allie told us all about her construction while we ate dinner tonight. Actually, me, Greg, and Allie ate--Julia's had a low-grade fever for two days and so she's gone anorexic on us.
Allie said that she had 1/2 hour to decorate her house, but it sounded to us like she ended up using about six pounds of candy. We get to bring the thing home on Thursday, after her school concert, so we'll see.
Ah, yes. The All-School Sing. Mustn't call it a Holiday Concert, lest someone get offended and sue the school district.
And what songs is my daughter going to be singing for this lovely "holiday" event, you may ask? Well, two of them are "Puff, the Magic Dragon," and "Yellow Submarine."
Feel free to comment if you like.
Each family of each student was assigned something to contribute. Our contribution was just a box of graham crackers; fortunately we weren't in the "make royal frosting" group. If you don't know, royal frosting is the glue that keeps gingerbread houses together and I believe it's quite challenging to keep the stuff from turning into a block of concrete after you mix it.
Allie told us all about her construction while we ate dinner tonight. Actually, me, Greg, and Allie ate--Julia's had a low-grade fever for two days and so she's gone anorexic on us.
Allie said that she had 1/2 hour to decorate her house, but it sounded to us like she ended up using about six pounds of candy. We get to bring the thing home on Thursday, after her school concert, so we'll see.
Ah, yes. The All-School Sing. Mustn't call it a Holiday Concert, lest someone get offended and sue the school district.
And what songs is my daughter going to be singing for this lovely "holiday" event, you may ask? Well, two of them are "Puff, the Magic Dragon," and "Yellow Submarine."
Feel free to comment if you like.
Monday, December 18, 2006
He's here!
Ashton Wade, 3 lbs., 9 oz., 16 inches long. Born Sunday, December 17, 2006 (almost 10 weeks early, but breathing on his own).
Congratulations to Karina and Larry as they add little Ashton to their family. Big brother Jaden and big sister Mariah are excited (probably more because their mom will be coming home soon after being hospitalized on bedrest for 7 weeks or so, but nonetheless).
Congratulations to their entire family! I hope everything goes smoothly and that Ashton will be home soon. He needs to get busy on being the state's best baby ever!
Congratulations to Karina and Larry as they add little Ashton to their family. Big brother Jaden and big sister Mariah are excited (probably more because their mom will be coming home soon after being hospitalized on bedrest for 7 weeks or so, but nonetheless).
Congratulations to their entire family! I hope everything goes smoothly and that Ashton will be home soon. He needs to get busy on being the state's best baby ever!
Saturday, December 16, 2006
A case study
Julia was playing with Allie's Leapster game tonight when bedtime came. We went upstairs so the girls could brush teeth and go potty and she wanted to keep playing even when she finished those tasks and crawled into bed.
She cried when I told her she had to give it up, so I told her I would put it on top of her dresser and that she could have it as soon as she woke up. Meanwhile, Greg had crawled into Allie's bed to pretend he was going to sleep with her. I went downstairs to watch TV.
This is what happened after that in Julia's head:
1. I'm not tired. I want my game.
2. I can't reach the game.
3. I could reach the game if I was taller.
4. I would be taller if I had a stepstool.
5. There's a stepstool in Allie's room.
6. I'm going to get out of bed to get the stepstool and get my game.
7. No one will be able to figure out that I'm being naughty.
8. Time to get out of bed.
9. I'm opening the door.
10. I'm going into Allie's room for the stepstool.
11. Oh, oh. Daddy's in here!
12. I'm going to lie!
Daddy said, Julia, why are you getting the stepstool? Julia said, I need to get my teddy bear.
Unfortunately for Julia, Daddy followed her into her room. Now the game is in Mommy's and Daddy's room.
She cried when I told her she had to give it up, so I told her I would put it on top of her dresser and that she could have it as soon as she woke up. Meanwhile, Greg had crawled into Allie's bed to pretend he was going to sleep with her. I went downstairs to watch TV.
This is what happened after that in Julia's head:
1. I'm not tired. I want my game.
2. I can't reach the game.
3. I could reach the game if I was taller.
4. I would be taller if I had a stepstool.
5. There's a stepstool in Allie's room.
6. I'm going to get out of bed to get the stepstool and get my game.
7. No one will be able to figure out that I'm being naughty.
8. Time to get out of bed.
9. I'm opening the door.
10. I'm going into Allie's room for the stepstool.
11. Oh, oh. Daddy's in here!
12. I'm going to lie!
Daddy said, Julia, why are you getting the stepstool? Julia said, I need to get my teddy bear.
Unfortunately for Julia, Daddy followed her into her room. Now the game is in Mommy's and Daddy's room.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Stuff
More than a month ago, Greg fired the girl who was trying to become our latest regular cleaning lady. I call her a girl because even though she was starting her own cleaning business with a friend, she couldn't have been more than 23 years old.
We gave her a try and the first time she cleaned, which was supposed to be her "super stupendous get your house in order for the first time" cleaning, she did a terrible job. I mean really terrible, where you wonder what she did in your house for two hours, or more.
The biggest disadvantage of this situation, besides the fact that Greg and I both really hate cleaning and so our house is now pretty darn dirty, is that it's become really, really messy.
When we've had a cleaning lady, we always aggressively tidied our house every two weeks, right before they visited, so they would spend more time making things spic and span and less time picking up and moving things.
We have not aggressively tidied the house in a long, long time and, as a result, we have stuff everywhere. I'm typing this sitting in a chair in the living room, and I can see the following items without even turning my head:
Many, many children's books, one of Allie's school notebooks from last year that she likes because she has many drawings in it, the bridle and harness from a toy horse (it's pink, of course), a Highlights magazine, a Leapster handheld game (pink), magazines (motorcycle and entertainment), tissues, crumpled napkins, Happy Meals toys times four, Allie's diary, dress-up shoes that Julia was wearing the other night (pink), a picture frame that talks that both girls like to record messages on, a Hello Kitty purse (pink), a fabric rose (pink) that has a bendy stem, a toy car, Julia's blankie (pink), Greg's laptop and about five different computer cables (I'm not typing on that computer), a Magic Eight Ball, an empty bottle of Gatorade, a giant ball, a newspaper, a 2007 calendar, a puzzle, binoculars, a toy lipstick (pink), a rock, a wand that goes with a Magic Dora hair growing doll (but the doll has been missing in action for ages), an Elmo birthday blow-out, a Christmas ornament, a CD, a stray sock, an eyeglass case, a toy golf ball, a fruit snack wrapper, a drawing that Allie made at daycare, the remote that we only use to change the TV to watch DVDs, a painted pumpkin that had better go in the trash before it rots into the carpeting, a pewter tooth fairy container, a plastic bottle that used to hold cookie decorations and that Julia has now filled with water, part of the vacuum cleaner hose extension, a Halloween pillow, the (pink) reel to a Disney Princess projector (but we don't know where the projector is), a (pink) purse full of pens, a magnet, a "cleansing wipes" container that Julia appropriated and filled with who knows what else, a hair band (pink), a white tube that I don't know the origin of, a Skydancer launching contraption (pink) with no Skydancer, two daughters watching "Polar Express," and a cat.
Christmas is coming. We'll clean for Christmas, right? Goodness, I hope so!
We gave her a try and the first time she cleaned, which was supposed to be her "super stupendous get your house in order for the first time" cleaning, she did a terrible job. I mean really terrible, where you wonder what she did in your house for two hours, or more.
The biggest disadvantage of this situation, besides the fact that Greg and I both really hate cleaning and so our house is now pretty darn dirty, is that it's become really, really messy.
When we've had a cleaning lady, we always aggressively tidied our house every two weeks, right before they visited, so they would spend more time making things spic and span and less time picking up and moving things.
We have not aggressively tidied the house in a long, long time and, as a result, we have stuff everywhere. I'm typing this sitting in a chair in the living room, and I can see the following items without even turning my head:
Many, many children's books, one of Allie's school notebooks from last year that she likes because she has many drawings in it, the bridle and harness from a toy horse (it's pink, of course), a Highlights magazine, a Leapster handheld game (pink), magazines (motorcycle and entertainment), tissues, crumpled napkins, Happy Meals toys times four, Allie's diary, dress-up shoes that Julia was wearing the other night (pink), a picture frame that talks that both girls like to record messages on, a Hello Kitty purse (pink), a fabric rose (pink) that has a bendy stem, a toy car, Julia's blankie (pink), Greg's laptop and about five different computer cables (I'm not typing on that computer), a Magic Eight Ball, an empty bottle of Gatorade, a giant ball, a newspaper, a 2007 calendar, a puzzle, binoculars, a toy lipstick (pink), a rock, a wand that goes with a Magic Dora hair growing doll (but the doll has been missing in action for ages), an Elmo birthday blow-out, a Christmas ornament, a CD, a stray sock, an eyeglass case, a toy golf ball, a fruit snack wrapper, a drawing that Allie made at daycare, the remote that we only use to change the TV to watch DVDs, a painted pumpkin that had better go in the trash before it rots into the carpeting, a pewter tooth fairy container, a plastic bottle that used to hold cookie decorations and that Julia has now filled with water, part of the vacuum cleaner hose extension, a Halloween pillow, the (pink) reel to a Disney Princess projector (but we don't know where the projector is), a (pink) purse full of pens, a magnet, a "cleansing wipes" container that Julia appropriated and filled with who knows what else, a hair band (pink), a white tube that I don't know the origin of, a Skydancer launching contraption (pink) with no Skydancer, two daughters watching "Polar Express," and a cat.
Christmas is coming. We'll clean for Christmas, right? Goodness, I hope so!
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Colors of the wind
How did it end up that my girls, like millions of other little girls worldwide, are addicted to pink?
Now I realize that we parents start them out right away with pink outfits of every kind, but at the time, they are too little to do more than puke and pee on the clothing. They certainly aren't focusing on what color they're surrounded by.
Julia is 3 and by now it's completely ingrained. She loves pink shirts, pink pants, pink socks, pink shoes, pink dress-up clothes, pink toys, and, of course, her pink blankie. She'll generally wear other colors (thank god), but as soon as I wash her pink things, she wants to wear them again.
We put a pretty good effort into not having Allie be a girly girl, completely to no avail. We (and our families) bought her trucks and Matchbox cars and bats and balls, dinosaurs and golf clubs and lots of Legos, and she'd make castles out of the Legos for her dinosaurs. Nothing was mentioned about anything pink.
Then I'd tell her a story at night about a princess named Allie and this is how it would go:
Me: Once upon a time, there was a princess named Allie who lived in a magical castle. What color was the castle, Allie?
Allie: Pink!
Me: And the castle had a beautiful tower attached to it. What color was the tower, Allie?
Allie: Pink!
Me: And in the tower was Princess Allie's beautiful bedroom. What color was the door, Allie?
Allie: Pink!
Me (laughing): And inside, she had a beautiful bed with a huge canopy. What color was the bed, Allie?
Allie: Pink!
Me: One day, Princess Allie was playing in her room when she decided to go outside and take a ride on her magical horse. What color was the horse, Allie?
Allie: Pink!
Me: And what was the horsey's name, Allie?
Allie (long pause): Jack!
(Every animal was named Jack in Allie's world at this age, including Jack the First, a fish, and Jack the Second, another fish. Both quickly died and went to heaven.)
Me: So Princess Allie took a wonderful ride on Jack the pink horse through the beautiful countryside filled with amazing trees. What color were the trees, Allie?
Allie: Pink!
Me: And there were also wonderful smelling flowers everywhere. What color were the flowers, Allie?
Allie: Pink------and purple!
Me: So Princess Allie had a wonderful ride through the forest and when she got tired, she went back to the pink castle for a snack. What did she have for her snack, Allie?
Allie (another long pause): Cookies!
Me: And what kind of cookies were they, Allie?
Allie: Pink cookies!
Me: And with the cookies, Princess Allie had a refreshing drink. What did she have to drink, Allie?
Allie: Pink milk! (At the time, we mixed Allie's milk with strawberry milk powder so she'd drink more, so her milk often was really pink.)
Me: So Princess Allie finished eating her pink cookies and drinking her pink milk and she went to the pink tower and climbed the stairs to the pink door and opened it to find her pink room and her pink bed and she laid down and took a wonderful nap. Time to go to sleep now, Princess Allie.
The amazing part is that Julia was a baby when we started doing that story, so she didn't hear it with all of Allie's pink answers. Three years later, after a long gap from me doing it with Allie at all, I started doing it with Julia, when Allie was in her own room.
All of Julia's answers were also, Pink! Maybe it's genetic?
Now I realize that we parents start them out right away with pink outfits of every kind, but at the time, they are too little to do more than puke and pee on the clothing. They certainly aren't focusing on what color they're surrounded by.
Julia is 3 and by now it's completely ingrained. She loves pink shirts, pink pants, pink socks, pink shoes, pink dress-up clothes, pink toys, and, of course, her pink blankie. She'll generally wear other colors (thank god), but as soon as I wash her pink things, she wants to wear them again.
We put a pretty good effort into not having Allie be a girly girl, completely to no avail. We (and our families) bought her trucks and Matchbox cars and bats and balls, dinosaurs and golf clubs and lots of Legos, and she'd make castles out of the Legos for her dinosaurs. Nothing was mentioned about anything pink.
Then I'd tell her a story at night about a princess named Allie and this is how it would go:
Me: Once upon a time, there was a princess named Allie who lived in a magical castle. What color was the castle, Allie?
Allie: Pink!
Me: And the castle had a beautiful tower attached to it. What color was the tower, Allie?
Allie: Pink!
Me: And in the tower was Princess Allie's beautiful bedroom. What color was the door, Allie?
Allie: Pink!
Me (laughing): And inside, she had a beautiful bed with a huge canopy. What color was the bed, Allie?
Allie: Pink!
Me: One day, Princess Allie was playing in her room when she decided to go outside and take a ride on her magical horse. What color was the horse, Allie?
Allie: Pink!
Me: And what was the horsey's name, Allie?
Allie (long pause): Jack!
(Every animal was named Jack in Allie's world at this age, including Jack the First, a fish, and Jack the Second, another fish. Both quickly died and went to heaven.)
Me: So Princess Allie took a wonderful ride on Jack the pink horse through the beautiful countryside filled with amazing trees. What color were the trees, Allie?
Allie: Pink!
Me: And there were also wonderful smelling flowers everywhere. What color were the flowers, Allie?
Allie: Pink------and purple!
Me: So Princess Allie had a wonderful ride through the forest and when she got tired, she went back to the pink castle for a snack. What did she have for her snack, Allie?
Allie (another long pause): Cookies!
Me: And what kind of cookies were they, Allie?
Allie: Pink cookies!
Me: And with the cookies, Princess Allie had a refreshing drink. What did she have to drink, Allie?
Allie: Pink milk! (At the time, we mixed Allie's milk with strawberry milk powder so she'd drink more, so her milk often was really pink.)
Me: So Princess Allie finished eating her pink cookies and drinking her pink milk and she went to the pink tower and climbed the stairs to the pink door and opened it to find her pink room and her pink bed and she laid down and took a wonderful nap. Time to go to sleep now, Princess Allie.
The amazing part is that Julia was a baby when we started doing that story, so she didn't hear it with all of Allie's pink answers. Three years later, after a long gap from me doing it with Allie at all, I started doing it with Julia, when Allie was in her own room.
All of Julia's answers were also, Pink! Maybe it's genetic?
Monday, December 11, 2006
Updates
Pig, the cat, did not throw up her dinner last night, nor did she throw up her canned cat food breakfast this morning (beef stew, that one). No word yet on the poop.
I did make it to the vet today and I asked if was very harmful if we treated her occasionally with canned cat food. They said it was fine, as long as she doesn't start ignoring her regular cat food while she waits for the canned.
They also said canned cat food tends to be very fattening, but Pig used to be a much, much bigger cat, so we're not afraid of her gaining a little weight. And we don't give her cat treats (unlike my sisters, whose cats get probably 30% of their diets from treats!).
In another update, our daycare provider is still hospitalized but she's doing OK. She hasn't been home since they admitted her the first week of November. I told her mom (who's doing most of the work of keeping the daycare open) that this baby had better not have colic and that he'd better be the best baby ever, after all the trouble he's caused before birth.
I also think he'd better never throw up on his parents, be a brat or talk back, fight with his siblings, break any bones, drive wildly, or date girls his parents don't approve of. This baby should win the best baby title of Wisconsin and go to the finals for best baby of America, top five at least.
I did make it to the vet today and I asked if was very harmful if we treated her occasionally with canned cat food. They said it was fine, as long as she doesn't start ignoring her regular cat food while she waits for the canned.
They also said canned cat food tends to be very fattening, but Pig used to be a much, much bigger cat, so we're not afraid of her gaining a little weight. And we don't give her cat treats (unlike my sisters, whose cats get probably 30% of their diets from treats!).
In another update, our daycare provider is still hospitalized but she's doing OK. She hasn't been home since they admitted her the first week of November. I told her mom (who's doing most of the work of keeping the daycare open) that this baby had better not have colic and that he'd better be the best baby ever, after all the trouble he's caused before birth.
I also think he'd better never throw up on his parents, be a brat or talk back, fight with his siblings, break any bones, drive wildly, or date girls his parents don't approve of. This baby should win the best baby title of Wisconsin and go to the finals for best baby of America, top five at least.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Clucking all around
Ever since our cat, Pig, was diagnosed with diabetes over a year and a half ago, she's been on a prescription dry cat food that runs $38 a bag. Expensive, yes, but we elected not to put her on insulin, so we thought it was the least we could do. She seems to be doing fine with just the special diet, anyway.
We've known that we were almost out of dry food for her for ages, and our vet is open on Saturday, but nonetheless, neither Greg nor I went to the vet to get more food for her.
So tonight we went to the grocery store and bought canned cat food to get her through until tomorrow. We bought a rotisserie chicken for ourselves, so we got a chicken blend for her.
To say that we have a happy cat right now is a huge understatement. She ate and ate and licked the plate and ate some more. Her little stomach must be filled to bursting. And tonight, if she doesn't throw up from the richness of the change in diet, she's going to sleep the sleep of the blessed.
We've known that we were almost out of dry food for her for ages, and our vet is open on Saturday, but nonetheless, neither Greg nor I went to the vet to get more food for her.
So tonight we went to the grocery store and bought canned cat food to get her through until tomorrow. We bought a rotisserie chicken for ourselves, so we got a chicken blend for her.
To say that we have a happy cat right now is a huge understatement. She ate and ate and licked the plate and ate some more. Her little stomach must be filled to bursting. And tonight, if she doesn't throw up from the richness of the change in diet, she's going to sleep the sleep of the blessed.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
201
I've had this blog since June, 2003 and my last post about Julia learning to lie was number 200.
Dan at allthatcomeswithit.com, meanwhile, is at just under 200 posts and he started his blog in January of this year.
I've looked back and there were times in the past when I only blogged twice in a month. I've been doing a lot better recently, and it coincides with finally starting to feel like my work life is under control. That's somewhat under control for the first time in 2 1/2 years, by the way.
I just hope the crap doesn't hit the fan next year. I look at blogging as a way to keep family and friends informed of what our family is up to, but it's also a way to write down the little stories about our daughters that I won't remember in five years.
And don't ask me how I am with their baby books. So this, this is for them. I love you two!
Dan at allthatcomeswithit.com, meanwhile, is at just under 200 posts and he started his blog in January of this year.
I've looked back and there were times in the past when I only blogged twice in a month. I've been doing a lot better recently, and it coincides with finally starting to feel like my work life is under control. That's somewhat under control for the first time in 2 1/2 years, by the way.
I just hope the crap doesn't hit the fan next year. I look at blogging as a way to keep family and friends informed of what our family is up to, but it's also a way to write down the little stories about our daughters that I won't remember in five years.
And don't ask me how I am with their baby books. So this, this is for them. I love you two!
Friday, December 08, 2006
Wait until she's 13 1/2
This evening, I gave my children Eggo waffles for dinner. Now I don't need any eye-rolling from any of you over that. They had some protein earlier because they ate nuts when we first arrived home. Julia also had some cottage cheese (which she loves, for some reason) and Allie ate some fruit.
Greg was working late and I didn't bother to try to make something nicer for us for dinner because Greg and I needed to eat more of the amazing chicken soup/stew he made the other night and I knew the girls would never eat it.
As she ate her third Eggo, Allie managed to get a whole bunch of syrup on one pants leg. When she finished eating, she took off her pants and put them in the laundry room, so she was walking around wearing a warm shirt, undershift, panties, and socks. And she grabbed a blanket.
Julia is a naked-preference girl, so she immediately wanted to take off her pants too. She came up to me and said, Mommy, my pants are wet, can I take them off? I said, what? She said, I got water on my pants, can I take them off?
I looked suspiciously at her pants and asked where she was that she got water on them. She changed her story, and said, I spilled milk on them and they're wet, can I take them off?
I said, where are they wet, Julia? She looked down at her dry pants and said, Mommy, look, they're dirty. She bent over and pointed to an imaginary spot on the cuff. She said, Mommy, can I take them off?
I told her that her pants weren't really wet, were they, but you want to take your pants off, right? And she said yes. So I told her she could take them off.
My almost 3 and a half year old daughter has learned to lie. This is an important developmental step, right? And not an indication of trouble ahead!
Greg was working late and I didn't bother to try to make something nicer for us for dinner because Greg and I needed to eat more of the amazing chicken soup/stew he made the other night and I knew the girls would never eat it.
As she ate her third Eggo, Allie managed to get a whole bunch of syrup on one pants leg. When she finished eating, she took off her pants and put them in the laundry room, so she was walking around wearing a warm shirt, undershift, panties, and socks. And she grabbed a blanket.
Julia is a naked-preference girl, so she immediately wanted to take off her pants too. She came up to me and said, Mommy, my pants are wet, can I take them off? I said, what? She said, I got water on my pants, can I take them off?
I looked suspiciously at her pants and asked where she was that she got water on them. She changed her story, and said, I spilled milk on them and they're wet, can I take them off?
I said, where are they wet, Julia? She looked down at her dry pants and said, Mommy, look, they're dirty. She bent over and pointed to an imaginary spot on the cuff. She said, Mommy, can I take them off?
I told her that her pants weren't really wet, were they, but you want to take your pants off, right? And she said yes. So I told her she could take them off.
My almost 3 and a half year old daughter has learned to lie. This is an important developmental step, right? And not an indication of trouble ahead!
Santa -- check!
Last night, Greg and I took the girls to see Santa at one of our local malls. We like that mall because the Santa has a genuine white beard and because he seems like such a jolly, happy soul. No, really, the local newspaper profiled him last year and he seems like a wonderful man, who's been playing Santa for something like 15 years.
As we were driving, the girls were both talking to themselves, which is pretty normal. They don't usually talk to each other, but each of them will be telling stories to herself or talking to a toy or something.
Greg and I paused in our conversation and that's when we noticed that Julia was reciting, "Oatmeal, Oakmeal, Ballerina, Ballerina. Oatmeal, Oatmeal, Ballerina, Ballerina."
We looked at each other and started smiling and the recitation continued, "Oatmeal, Oatmeal, Ballerina, Ballerina." Then she threw in a new one, "Oatmeal, Oatmeal, Ballerina, Princess. Oatmeal, Oatmeal, Princess, Princess."
We have no idea what it meant, but because she wasn't reciting, "Kill Mommy, Kill Daddy, Kill Allie," we didn't interrupt her.
As we were driving, the girls were both talking to themselves, which is pretty normal. They don't usually talk to each other, but each of them will be telling stories to herself or talking to a toy or something.
Greg and I paused in our conversation and that's when we noticed that Julia was reciting, "Oatmeal, Oakmeal, Ballerina, Ballerina. Oatmeal, Oatmeal, Ballerina, Ballerina."
We looked at each other and started smiling and the recitation continued, "Oatmeal, Oatmeal, Ballerina, Ballerina." Then she threw in a new one, "Oatmeal, Oatmeal, Ballerina, Princess. Oatmeal, Oatmeal, Princess, Princess."
We have no idea what it meant, but because she wasn't reciting, "Kill Mommy, Kill Daddy, Kill Allie," we didn't interrupt her.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Bulbs and sobs
Greg, Allie and Julia decorated our new Christmas tree tonight while I did a mountain of dishes at the other end of the house. That's one of the things I like the most about our house--that the entire back side is our active living space. Living room, dinette, and kitchen, all on the sunny side of the house.
So I could glance over at any time and see what so-godawful-ugly-and-I-thought-we-threw-it-away-years-ago ornament that the girls were exclaiming over as pretty and placing in a prominent place on the tree.
The evening wasn't complete until both girls had brief crying spells, which wouldn't have been so bad except that Greg picked up the video camera and filmed them sobbing. Julia dropped a glass ornament and cried, and Allie was too afraid to come close to the running vacuum cleaner to pick up an ornament hook so Daddy yelled and she cried.
The tree looks great and Greg bought our first Christmas gift for someone when he ran to the store tonight. So now all we have to do to be ready for the season is buy the perfect gift for everyone we know in the world, attend numerous holiday functions (including some food preparation), take the girls to see Santa, make and decorate Christmas cookies, figure out exactly when we're traveling for the holidays, and write and send Christmas cards.
Oh, I'm sure that last one doesn't have a chance of happening. I haven't sent Christmas cards for probably four years, unfortunately. We do wish everyone a happy holiday however!
So I could glance over at any time and see what so-godawful-ugly-and-I-thought-we-threw-it-away-years-ago ornament that the girls were exclaiming over as pretty and placing in a prominent place on the tree.
The evening wasn't complete until both girls had brief crying spells, which wouldn't have been so bad except that Greg picked up the video camera and filmed them sobbing. Julia dropped a glass ornament and cried, and Allie was too afraid to come close to the running vacuum cleaner to pick up an ornament hook so Daddy yelled and she cried.
The tree looks great and Greg bought our first Christmas gift for someone when he ran to the store tonight. So now all we have to do to be ready for the season is buy the perfect gift for everyone we know in the world, attend numerous holiday functions (including some food preparation), take the girls to see Santa, make and decorate Christmas cookies, figure out exactly when we're traveling for the holidays, and write and send Christmas cards.
Oh, I'm sure that last one doesn't have a chance of happening. I haven't sent Christmas cards for probably four years, unfortunately. We do wish everyone a happy holiday however!
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
No smelly
Last night, we went shopping and bought our Christmas tree. It's going to be our Christmas tree for an indefinite period of time because it's a fake tree--my first fake tree ever.
Even when I lived alone for years, I always had a small real Christmas tree. And this one doesn't smell. It makes me sad, even though I realize it's a sensible decision. At least the cat likes it just as well.
We also had a rare occurrence last night. I've been navigating my way around life for probably about 33 or so years. Back then was when my dad gave me a map for the first time and explained how they worked.
I have a good sense of direction and, for example, manuveured Greg and me all over London and Paris without even once getting us lost or even turning us in the wrong direction.
But last night, we left a parking lot and I said, hey, we can avoid going back to the main road to get to Farm & Fleet if we cut through here, and Greg said, makes sense.
Umm, I got a little messed up. 10-13 minutes worth messed up. Oh, well. I guess I'm not perfect.
No comments unless you want to tell your own "getting lost" story!
Even when I lived alone for years, I always had a small real Christmas tree. And this one doesn't smell. It makes me sad, even though I realize it's a sensible decision. At least the cat likes it just as well.
We also had a rare occurrence last night. I've been navigating my way around life for probably about 33 or so years. Back then was when my dad gave me a map for the first time and explained how they worked.
I have a good sense of direction and, for example, manuveured Greg and me all over London and Paris without even once getting us lost or even turning us in the wrong direction.
But last night, we left a parking lot and I said, hey, we can avoid going back to the main road to get to Farm & Fleet if we cut through here, and Greg said, makes sense.
Umm, I got a little messed up. 10-13 minutes worth messed up. Oh, well. I guess I'm not perfect.
No comments unless you want to tell your own "getting lost" story!
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Memories of days gone past
Both of our girls have sucked their thumbs, and Julia still does. Allie decided to stop when some new kids came to our daycare and the baby sucked it's thumb. She wanted to be the big girl and she was able to stop. She was about four years old.
What made her able to quit cold turkey was that she put away Dolly. Dolly, her soft pink fabric doll, who went everywhere with us for at least two years.
We took Dolly with us when we visited Greg's dad, Mike, in Florida when Allie was two. We had a lovely morning on a pontoon boat on the intercoastal waterway and at one point, when we were flying along, Dolly got blown overboard.
I screamed at Greg, who screamed at his dad, and we both yelled, We have to go back and get Dolly! Thank god, she floated, because we had only brought one Dolly with us (out of the five we eventually owned). We rotated them so they all wore out equally.
Likewise, Julia has her comfort object, her pink blankie. Blankie has likewise traveled everywhere with us. Unfortunately, there is only one Blankie, so she's getting pretty ragged.
I'm looking forward to the day when Julia stops sucking her thumb, but I know I'm going to be sad too. It's the last big babyish thing she still does, in her necessary quest to become a big girl.
What made her able to quit cold turkey was that she put away Dolly. Dolly, her soft pink fabric doll, who went everywhere with us for at least two years.
We took Dolly with us when we visited Greg's dad, Mike, in Florida when Allie was two. We had a lovely morning on a pontoon boat on the intercoastal waterway and at one point, when we were flying along, Dolly got blown overboard.
I screamed at Greg, who screamed at his dad, and we both yelled, We have to go back and get Dolly! Thank god, she floated, because we had only brought one Dolly with us (out of the five we eventually owned). We rotated them so they all wore out equally.
Likewise, Julia has her comfort object, her pink blankie. Blankie has likewise traveled everywhere with us. Unfortunately, there is only one Blankie, so she's getting pretty ragged.
I'm looking forward to the day when Julia stops sucking her thumb, but I know I'm going to be sad too. It's the last big babyish thing she still does, in her necessary quest to become a big girl.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Shopping is a task
I've been trying to remember when was the earliest date that I ever had all of my Christmas shopping finished.
It was probably when I was a kid, when I only shopped for my parents. Now, I'm pretty happy if I finish my shopping by about December 20th.
This year, Greg and I have scheduled a shopping day for the girls for December 14th. We're getting to the point now where we have to watch what wrapping paper we use for them.
I distinctly remember two years ago, when Allie was four, and she said, Look Mom! Santa uses the same wrapping paper that we do!
Fortunately, we're not to the point yet where we have to make extensive efforts to hide the gifts.
When that time comes, we'll just stock up on fake spiders and the gifts will be safe from all investigation. There's nothing the girls hate more.
Did I mention that I haven't even started my shopping yet this year?
It was probably when I was a kid, when I only shopped for my parents. Now, I'm pretty happy if I finish my shopping by about December 20th.
This year, Greg and I have scheduled a shopping day for the girls for December 14th. We're getting to the point now where we have to watch what wrapping paper we use for them.
I distinctly remember two years ago, when Allie was four, and she said, Look Mom! Santa uses the same wrapping paper that we do!
Fortunately, we're not to the point yet where we have to make extensive efforts to hide the gifts.
When that time comes, we'll just stock up on fake spiders and the gifts will be safe from all investigation. There's nothing the girls hate more.
Did I mention that I haven't even started my shopping yet this year?
Friday, December 01, 2006
Resilience
This morning seemed like a pretty typical morning.
I woke the girls, got them downstairs and got them apple juice, went back upstairs to get dressed, picked out clothes for them, went downstairs, and got them each something to eat (Allie's been on a peanut-butter-and-jelly-toast kick for awhile now and Julia had plain toast, so that wasn't too bad).
Then I got each daughter to change clothes, packed up Allie's backpack for school (don't forget my homework, Mom!), stacked up what I need to bring to work for the day, found Julia's mittens, and found Allie's and Julia's boots since we had a mini-blizzard today.
I don't know how, but Julia's feet seem to have grown in the last three weeks or so, because the boots that fit her last month now were too small.
I read Allie her school hot lunch menu before I started looking for the next size up boots for Julia in the back hall closet. The only lunch entree that Allie would possibly consider eating was cheese quesadillas. I told her that was available and added that dessert was chocolate pudding, hoping against hope that she wouldn't wrinkle her nose and say she wanted cold lunch.
Greg often packs her lunch but he'd already left for work. But she wrinkled her nose and I told her that if I had time, I'd pack her a lunch, otherwise she was going to have to eat the quesadilla.
It took me a few minutes to find Julia's boots, so I didn't make her a lunch, and the three of us headed off into the snow.
Four and a half hours later, I had just finished eating my own not-very-good-cafeteria-food-but-there's-no-way-I'm-going-out-in-the-snow lunch when my phone rang. The woman said she was the health aide at Fox Prairie school and I said, oh oh.
It turns out that Allie ate part of a quesadilla at lunch. She said it was burnt (which I doubt) and that the cheese was chunky (congealed, most likely). Aren't I a good mom for making her eat this?
She got over to the garbage can to throw out her garbage, bent down to pick up her dropped mitten, and she got a mouthful of stomach bile in her mouth.
She said she ran to her classroom and spit it out in the garbage can. Then she asked her teacher if she could go to the office, whereupon they called me, saying that Allie had thrown up and was warm (feverish) and could I come.
Greg and I did some brief planning and I left to get her and take her home, until Greg could finish something and drive home. Then I'd leave to go back to work for a meeting.
When I saw her, she was lying on a cot next to a garbage can , looking very flushed and miserable. Of course, she was still wearing her snow bibs.
We went home and she got on the couch and started watching TV. Greg called to say he was on his way home and about 15 minutes later, Allie said she was starving and could she have something to eat.
I gave her a banana and said we'd see how she kept it down. She ate it and about five minutes later, she asked if we could go outside and play in the snow.
Hmm.
Her daddy was not happy that he took a half day off to come home and watch her and now she wasn't ill. We talked about taking her back to school, but weren't sure they would take her (or if they did, we'd be the worst parents in the world to make her go back).
Allie had a bad lunch, and then she was better. What lesson have we learned, people?
I woke the girls, got them downstairs and got them apple juice, went back upstairs to get dressed, picked out clothes for them, went downstairs, and got them each something to eat (Allie's been on a peanut-butter-and-jelly-toast kick for awhile now and Julia had plain toast, so that wasn't too bad).
Then I got each daughter to change clothes, packed up Allie's backpack for school (don't forget my homework, Mom!), stacked up what I need to bring to work for the day, found Julia's mittens, and found Allie's and Julia's boots since we had a mini-blizzard today.
I don't know how, but Julia's feet seem to have grown in the last three weeks or so, because the boots that fit her last month now were too small.
I read Allie her school hot lunch menu before I started looking for the next size up boots for Julia in the back hall closet. The only lunch entree that Allie would possibly consider eating was cheese quesadillas. I told her that was available and added that dessert was chocolate pudding, hoping against hope that she wouldn't wrinkle her nose and say she wanted cold lunch.
Greg often packs her lunch but he'd already left for work. But she wrinkled her nose and I told her that if I had time, I'd pack her a lunch, otherwise she was going to have to eat the quesadilla.
It took me a few minutes to find Julia's boots, so I didn't make her a lunch, and the three of us headed off into the snow.
Four and a half hours later, I had just finished eating my own not-very-good-cafeteria-food-but-there's-no-way-I'm-going-out-in-the-snow lunch when my phone rang. The woman said she was the health aide at Fox Prairie school and I said, oh oh.
It turns out that Allie ate part of a quesadilla at lunch. She said it was burnt (which I doubt) and that the cheese was chunky (congealed, most likely). Aren't I a good mom for making her eat this?
She got over to the garbage can to throw out her garbage, bent down to pick up her dropped mitten, and she got a mouthful of stomach bile in her mouth.
She said she ran to her classroom and spit it out in the garbage can. Then she asked her teacher if she could go to the office, whereupon they called me, saying that Allie had thrown up and was warm (feverish) and could I come.
Greg and I did some brief planning and I left to get her and take her home, until Greg could finish something and drive home. Then I'd leave to go back to work for a meeting.
When I saw her, she was lying on a cot next to a garbage can , looking very flushed and miserable. Of course, she was still wearing her snow bibs.
We went home and she got on the couch and started watching TV. Greg called to say he was on his way home and about 15 minutes later, Allie said she was starving and could she have something to eat.
I gave her a banana and said we'd see how she kept it down. She ate it and about five minutes later, she asked if we could go outside and play in the snow.
Hmm.
Her daddy was not happy that he took a half day off to come home and watch her and now she wasn't ill. We talked about taking her back to school, but weren't sure they would take her (or if they did, we'd be the worst parents in the world to make her go back).
Allie had a bad lunch, and then she was better. What lesson have we learned, people?
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Children
Last night, I watched a TV show about a family in Arkansas with 16 children. The mom and dad are about my age, but they married when the dad was 19 and the mom was 17.
They've had two sets of twins, so there have been 14 pregnancies, but the mom has still been pregnant for an entire decade. They're the Duggars, if you're interested in Googling.
Tonight, Allie and Julia were well-behaved at a book fair at Allie's school, OK at a restaurant, and naughty after that because they wouldn't stop fighting over a stuffed mouse that Allie got in a school kit today.
In their bath later, Allie and Julia were completely annoying. They fought over a new bar of soap. They complained about who got to get out of the bathtub first. Julia cried about having her hair partially blow-dried. Allie was scared to go in her room to get her pajamas because the light wasn't on.
They kept complaining about the mouse, asking for it repeatedly even after Greg put the mouse in timeout, and frankly, making noise by either asking for it or yelling at their sibling about it while I was trying to listen to my favorite current show, House.
Last night, I felt sorry for the Duggar kids, because they're never going to have the opportunity for the kind of one-on-one attention and love that I can give my two kids.
Tonight, I'm glad I just have two. Grr.
They've had two sets of twins, so there have been 14 pregnancies, but the mom has still been pregnant for an entire decade. They're the Duggars, if you're interested in Googling.
Tonight, Allie and Julia were well-behaved at a book fair at Allie's school, OK at a restaurant, and naughty after that because they wouldn't stop fighting over a stuffed mouse that Allie got in a school kit today.
In their bath later, Allie and Julia were completely annoying. They fought over a new bar of soap. They complained about who got to get out of the bathtub first. Julia cried about having her hair partially blow-dried. Allie was scared to go in her room to get her pajamas because the light wasn't on.
They kept complaining about the mouse, asking for it repeatedly even after Greg put the mouse in timeout, and frankly, making noise by either asking for it or yelling at their sibling about it while I was trying to listen to my favorite current show, House.
Last night, I felt sorry for the Duggar kids, because they're never going to have the opportunity for the kind of one-on-one attention and love that I can give my two kids.
Tonight, I'm glad I just have two. Grr.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Interlude
I'm sitting on the couch with my work laptop because in a minute, I'm going to work on some interview questions I need for tomorrow.
Greg went downstairs with the girls to play with his new GameCube, but just now, Julia came back up. She sat down next to me and asked if I would get Elmo on my computer.
I told her I was sorry, but that Mommy has to do some work, so I can't get Elmo right now. I asked her if she wanted to watch TV and she said, no, I want to watch you work.
So she's sitting snuggled up next to me, with her head on my shoulder, watching me type.
She's a sweetie.
I give it three minutes, max.
Tick, tick, tick.
OK, she lasted about 1 1/2 minutes. It was still sweet.
Greg went downstairs with the girls to play with his new GameCube, but just now, Julia came back up. She sat down next to me and asked if I would get Elmo on my computer.
I told her I was sorry, but that Mommy has to do some work, so I can't get Elmo right now. I asked her if she wanted to watch TV and she said, no, I want to watch you work.
So she's sitting snuggled up next to me, with her head on my shoulder, watching me type.
She's a sweetie.
I give it three minutes, max.
Tick, tick, tick.
OK, she lasted about 1 1/2 minutes. It was still sweet.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
'Tis the season
It was a gloomy, gray, initially foggy day today. Damp, unpleasant, but pretty dang warm--almost 60 degrees.
I did a little shopping this afternoon (not for Christmas presents, though) and as I drove home, I saw three different people putting out their Christmas lights.
For probably the last five years, our Christmas lights have been put out, either by me or by Greg, in a cold wind (with freezing hands trying to bend stiff wiring) because we waited too long into December.
It's obligatory in our neighborhood to do something Christmas-light-wise. We normally do the minimum of something on the railings of our porch and decline to compete with the obsessive people on every other block.
But today I decided, OK, we don't have to turn the lights on yet (since it's still November), but hey, I'm going to put out the Christmas lights.
And the kind of Christmas lights I like, not the ones we've been doing the last few years that Greg likes--he likes big, globby glass bulbs like we used to have on our Christmas trees 30 years ago.
So Allie and I went outside with little white lights and did part of the porch railing. Then we came in and got some little multi-colored lights and added those too. Both light strands are programmable, so they flash and sparkle and travel like crazy.
I was informed by Allie that the lights look awesomely cool and I think they look great. Much flashier than normal, with minimal work and in warm weather. As Jaime Oliver, the Naked Chef, would say, Easy peasy.
Except that Greg hates them. He thinks we threw them up in a mess and he doesn't like the small lights. I think Greg is a scrooge. He should be grateful he isn't going to be outside freezing his ass off in three weeks.
I'm full of righteous indignation. If I knew how to do it, I'd post a picture and take votes on how people think our lights look. Will my husband take up this challenge?
I did a little shopping this afternoon (not for Christmas presents, though) and as I drove home, I saw three different people putting out their Christmas lights.
For probably the last five years, our Christmas lights have been put out, either by me or by Greg, in a cold wind (with freezing hands trying to bend stiff wiring) because we waited too long into December.
It's obligatory in our neighborhood to do something Christmas-light-wise. We normally do the minimum of something on the railings of our porch and decline to compete with the obsessive people on every other block.
But today I decided, OK, we don't have to turn the lights on yet (since it's still November), but hey, I'm going to put out the Christmas lights.
And the kind of Christmas lights I like, not the ones we've been doing the last few years that Greg likes--he likes big, globby glass bulbs like we used to have on our Christmas trees 30 years ago.
So Allie and I went outside with little white lights and did part of the porch railing. Then we came in and got some little multi-colored lights and added those too. Both light strands are programmable, so they flash and sparkle and travel like crazy.
I was informed by Allie that the lights look awesomely cool and I think they look great. Much flashier than normal, with minimal work and in warm weather. As Jaime Oliver, the Naked Chef, would say, Easy peasy.
Except that Greg hates them. He thinks we threw them up in a mess and he doesn't like the small lights. I think Greg is a scrooge. He should be grateful he isn't going to be outside freezing his ass off in three weeks.
I'm full of righteous indignation. If I knew how to do it, I'd post a picture and take votes on how people think our lights look. Will my husband take up this challenge?
Saturday, November 25, 2006
I want, I want
Since August, Julia has been a coveting machine. As soon as her July 30 birthday was over, it seemed, she began saying that she wanted every single toy shown on television commercials for her birthday.
We would mostly ignore her, or we'd tell her that her birthday was over. At some point, we told her that if she wanted something, it would have to be for Christmas.
So for the last three months already, every single time there's any kind of toy commercial on (and especially if it's for something pink and plastic), Julia says, "I'm getting that for Christmas."
Do you have any idea how many toy commercials are on every day? Even on the channels that aren't aimed at kids, there are a lot. I'm guessing about six per hour, and it's ramping up now that Christmas actually is coming.
I've taken to telling her, "No, Julia, you're not getting that." She completely ignores me.
Yesterday Allie held a toy out of her reach and told Julia she could have it if she would stop saying, "T'm getting that for Christmas." It didn't work, needless to say.
Before too long, Christmas will be over, Allie's birthday will pass, and Julia can adjust her mantra to, "I'm getting that for my birthday." I, personally, can wait. This has to be a phase, right?
We would mostly ignore her, or we'd tell her that her birthday was over. At some point, we told her that if she wanted something, it would have to be for Christmas.
So for the last three months already, every single time there's any kind of toy commercial on (and especially if it's for something pink and plastic), Julia says, "I'm getting that for Christmas."
Do you have any idea how many toy commercials are on every day? Even on the channels that aren't aimed at kids, there are a lot. I'm guessing about six per hour, and it's ramping up now that Christmas actually is coming.
I've taken to telling her, "No, Julia, you're not getting that." She completely ignores me.
Yesterday Allie held a toy out of her reach and told Julia she could have it if she would stop saying, "T'm getting that for Christmas." It didn't work, needless to say.
Before too long, Christmas will be over, Allie's birthday will pass, and Julia can adjust her mantra to, "I'm getting that for my birthday." I, personally, can wait. This has to be a phase, right?
Friday, November 24, 2006
Thank god for Tupperware
Well, the Thanksgiving holiday is over and my refrigerator may never be the same.
It's been stuffed to the gills for so many days that it's tough to see any of the shelves, even after the big meals are over. We have a plethora of plastic leftover containers stacked up and up.
The only item on the menu that didn't really turn out was the stuffing. It baked a little too long and got dry.
But the turkey and the ham and the carrots and the pies, etcetera etcetera were very good. The company was lovely, even though my husband lost $12 or so playing cards. You're welcome, Dad. Enjoy your newfound wealth.
And the best part is that even though it really, really seems like Sunday, it's only Friday night. Yay!
Happy extended weekend.
It's been stuffed to the gills for so many days that it's tough to see any of the shelves, even after the big meals are over. We have a plethora of plastic leftover containers stacked up and up.
The only item on the menu that didn't really turn out was the stuffing. It baked a little too long and got dry.
But the turkey and the ham and the carrots and the pies, etcetera etcetera were very good. The company was lovely, even though my husband lost $12 or so playing cards. You're welcome, Dad. Enjoy your newfound wealth.
And the best part is that even though it really, really seems like Sunday, it's only Friday night. Yay!
Happy extended weekend.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Ready, set . . .
It's almost Thanksgiving--the eating holiday!
Greg and I both took the afternoon off today, me to prepare baked goods and Greg to get in another ride on his motorcycle. We're having unseasonably warm temperatures, so he's getting his ass out there before the snow flies again.
I made homemade pumpkin pie, pecan pie, and Bavarian apple torte. Mmmmmmmm.
I love pumpkin pie with whipped cream and I love the apple torte, which is just a butter crust, cream cheese with sugar/vanilla/egg, and then cinnamon apples on top.
They aren't family recipes, so I'm not going to add them to Dan's contest, but they are good.
My parents are already here for the holiday and my sister Claudette and brother-in-law Mike are coming this evening and that's all we're having for guests. I asked my mom if she thought it would be OK if I had a little slice of pie, since it's just us family.
Pardon my french, but we're going to have a shitload of food left over. Besides the baked goods, Greg is planning:
deviled eggs
deep-fried turkey
ham
mashed potatoes
sweet potatoes with bananas (that's a new recipe, we'll see how it comes out)
stuffing
scalloped corn
glazed carrots
coleslaw
baked beans
rolls
We're planning to eat tomorrow about 1 p.m. If you don't have anywhere to be, feel free to stop by for the gorging. If we run short of pie, I'll arm-wrestle you for the last piece.
Greg and I both took the afternoon off today, me to prepare baked goods and Greg to get in another ride on his motorcycle. We're having unseasonably warm temperatures, so he's getting his ass out there before the snow flies again.
I made homemade pumpkin pie, pecan pie, and Bavarian apple torte. Mmmmmmmm.
I love pumpkin pie with whipped cream and I love the apple torte, which is just a butter crust, cream cheese with sugar/vanilla/egg, and then cinnamon apples on top.
They aren't family recipes, so I'm not going to add them to Dan's contest, but they are good.
My parents are already here for the holiday and my sister Claudette and brother-in-law Mike are coming this evening and that's all we're having for guests. I asked my mom if she thought it would be OK if I had a little slice of pie, since it's just us family.
Pardon my french, but we're going to have a shitload of food left over. Besides the baked goods, Greg is planning:
deviled eggs
deep-fried turkey
ham
mashed potatoes
sweet potatoes with bananas (that's a new recipe, we'll see how it comes out)
stuffing
scalloped corn
glazed carrots
coleslaw
baked beans
rolls
We're planning to eat tomorrow about 1 p.m. If you don't have anywhere to be, feel free to stop by for the gorging. If we run short of pie, I'll arm-wrestle you for the last piece.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
He's the man
I've written before about how I love James Bond movies, so it was really cool that Greg and I (like other people that Greg links to) were able to see the new Bond movie (for us, on Sunday night).
It was excellent. Long! Things kept moving, though, so it was very good. We were OK that we didn't get home to put the girls to bed as we had thought, because we were off having an adult mini-adventure, thank you very much. We very rarely get to go to adult movies.
I loved the first chase sequence. I liked it when he got the best of M. I liked it when he actually deferred jumping into bed with a woman to chase a clue, instead of forgetting what he was supposed to be doing. The airport scenes were cool.
OK, I really liked it. Greg did too, though it certainly showed Daniel Craig's torso more than it did any half-naked women.
Other than Sean Connery, I have a new favorite Bond. Not that any of the others were really a competition to Sean, but Daniel is. I can't wait for the next one!
It was excellent. Long! Things kept moving, though, so it was very good. We were OK that we didn't get home to put the girls to bed as we had thought, because we were off having an adult mini-adventure, thank you very much. We very rarely get to go to adult movies.
I loved the first chase sequence. I liked it when he got the best of M. I liked it when he actually deferred jumping into bed with a woman to chase a clue, instead of forgetting what he was supposed to be doing. The airport scenes were cool.
OK, I really liked it. Greg did too, though it certainly showed Daniel Craig's torso more than it did any half-naked women.
Other than Sean Connery, I have a new favorite Bond. Not that any of the others were really a competition to Sean, but Daniel is. I can't wait for the next one!
Monday, November 20, 2006
Paying my dues
When I first graduated from college, I was meticulous about paying bills. Actually, I've always been meticulous about money.
I remember getting my first savings account when I was 9 and then most Fridays, when my parents did their banking (remember when you went to the bank every Friday to do your banking for the week?), I would make $1 and $3 deposits.
I always saved more than I spent and when I started working at 16, I saved even more. Later, my parents paid my tuition for college, but I had a work-study job and I never asked them for any additional money for living expenses.
By the time I graduated, I had a rather large chunk of student loans to pay off and I steadily worked away at them until I was debt free. Then I bought my first new car and my condo.
So, you can see, pretty fiscally responsible.
So now I'm 41 and I put off paying bills like nobody's business. I'm lucky if I can make myself sit down and do it twice per month.
Oh, I'm never late on anything. I make sure I check due dates and write the checks I need to write (no, I don't do online banking), but balancing all those direct deposits, ATM withdrawals, and grocery store checks written just seems like such a chore.
And it is. Tonight, I sorted through a huge stack of mail, threw out a ton of papers that Allie produced at school, opened some bills, sorted about six or seven EFT direct deposit forms, recorded two and a half pages of checks written earlier, and paid about five bills. It took me about an hour and a half.
Who wants to do that. Do you have a bad financial habit? Are you one of those people who just believes the balance the bank gives you?
Do you think the bank could just be screwing us all? That is, in addition to the remarkable fees they charge nowadays . . .
I remember getting my first savings account when I was 9 and then most Fridays, when my parents did their banking (remember when you went to the bank every Friday to do your banking for the week?), I would make $1 and $3 deposits.
I always saved more than I spent and when I started working at 16, I saved even more. Later, my parents paid my tuition for college, but I had a work-study job and I never asked them for any additional money for living expenses.
By the time I graduated, I had a rather large chunk of student loans to pay off and I steadily worked away at them until I was debt free. Then I bought my first new car and my condo.
So, you can see, pretty fiscally responsible.
So now I'm 41 and I put off paying bills like nobody's business. I'm lucky if I can make myself sit down and do it twice per month.
Oh, I'm never late on anything. I make sure I check due dates and write the checks I need to write (no, I don't do online banking), but balancing all those direct deposits, ATM withdrawals, and grocery store checks written just seems like such a chore.
And it is. Tonight, I sorted through a huge stack of mail, threw out a ton of papers that Allie produced at school, opened some bills, sorted about six or seven EFT direct deposit forms, recorded two and a half pages of checks written earlier, and paid about five bills. It took me about an hour and a half.
Who wants to do that. Do you have a bad financial habit? Are you one of those people who just believes the balance the bank gives you?
Do you think the bank could just be screwing us all? That is, in addition to the remarkable fees they charge nowadays . . .
Friday, November 17, 2006
Stocking Up
Greg has been slowly purchasing the ingredients for our Thanksgiving feast next week. We don't have an especially huge refrigerator, so one thing he's delayed buying so far is the actual star of the show, Mr. Turkey.
In the past, my husband has baked turkeys, brined and baked turkeys, and deep-fried turkeys. This year, just to change things up, he's going to brine and deep-fry.
I guess the latest trend is actually to smoke a turkey or make one on the grill (which has the advantage of freeing up oven space), but we're going to stick with something more tried and true.
We're only having four additional people for dinner. Since he also bought a ham, you had better all bring your appetites.
Next week, I'm starting on the pies!
In the past, my husband has baked turkeys, brined and baked turkeys, and deep-fried turkeys. This year, just to change things up, he's going to brine and deep-fry.
I guess the latest trend is actually to smoke a turkey or make one on the grill (which has the advantage of freeing up oven space), but we're going to stick with something more tried and true.
We're only having four additional people for dinner. Since he also bought a ham, you had better all bring your appetites.
Next week, I'm starting on the pies!
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Questioning
In the mail today, we got a questionnaire to complete from the local school district. Julia is now eligible for early childhood education, if she isn't meeting certain developmental goals.
Among many other things, we had to figure out if Julia knew how to count to three or five, for example (Julia counted to eleven, then said firteen [13] then sisteen [16]). We had to see if she knew her colors. We asked her to jump with both feet. We asked questions about whether something was over or under. We asked "what do you do with an apple" and "are you a boy or a girl" and "what's your name" and "how old are you"?
She did great. I don't think, based on our responses, that we'll be getting a call from the school district. Julia's pretty normal, and that's a wonderful thing.
About three weeks ago, we went to Allie's school for a parent-teacher conference. She's doing just fine too. She's having a little trouble with reversing the order of her letters and numbers occasionally, which I think is at least partially due to being a lefty. Her teacher says it's not necessarily that and that it's perfectly normal.
I remember when my parents went to parent-teacher conferences for me. Even though I was a good student, it was always a little nerve-wracking knowing they were talking to my teacher. I can't imagine what those conferences were like for the parents of the "BAD KIDS."
Let's hope I never have to find out!
Among many other things, we had to figure out if Julia knew how to count to three or five, for example (Julia counted to eleven, then said firteen [13] then sisteen [16]). We had to see if she knew her colors. We asked her to jump with both feet. We asked questions about whether something was over or under. We asked "what do you do with an apple" and "are you a boy or a girl" and "what's your name" and "how old are you"?
She did great. I don't think, based on our responses, that we'll be getting a call from the school district. Julia's pretty normal, and that's a wonderful thing.
About three weeks ago, we went to Allie's school for a parent-teacher conference. She's doing just fine too. She's having a little trouble with reversing the order of her letters and numbers occasionally, which I think is at least partially due to being a lefty. Her teacher says it's not necessarily that and that it's perfectly normal.
I remember when my parents went to parent-teacher conferences for me. Even though I was a good student, it was always a little nerve-wracking knowing they were talking to my teacher. I can't imagine what those conferences were like for the parents of the "BAD KIDS."
Let's hope I never have to find out!
Sunday, November 12, 2006
New worries
Every work day, Julia goes to a small family daycare just up the hill from our house. Allie gets off the bus after school and walks to the same daycare. Then Daddy comes by about an hour and a half later and picks them both up at once. We know they get wonderful care there and it's wonderfully convenient.
Our daycare provider, who we love and needless to say our children love, is pregnant. She's been having complications for awhile (though you wouldn't have know it to see her or talk to her) and things worsened last week. She went to her OB/GYN for a check and boom, they admitted her to the hospital for observation.
We thought it was going to be overnight, then it was going to be two nights, and we found out at the end of last week that she's likely going to be hospitalized until she has the baby. She's only at 26 weeks, so she would normally have 14 weeks to go yet.
We're scared and nervous for her, for her unborn child, her husband, her other two kids, the rest of her family, and, of course, for ourselves. Our family isn't religious, but hers is, so for her sake I'm saying a prayer that she, her baby, and everyone else in her family is going to come through this OK.
Us, well . . . It's so absolutely godawful to be thinking about ourselves in this situation, but of course we can't help it. We're worried about how well things are going to work out with the daycare staying open (right now, the plan is for various relatives of hers to help out at least through the end of the year).
We're worried about Julia adjusting to not seeing her (though of course, her own children will have things so much worse that it seems petty to mention it), and about Julia adjusting to her new caretakers (though I'm sure they're all wonderful people and we already know some of them).
We're worried about where Allie will go if the daycare has to close, since we can find all-day daycare for Julia somewhere if necessary, but figuring out where Allie goes when she gets off the bus is a little more complicated.
And I'm concerned most of all about how she's going to make it through this period. Laying in a bed in a hospital, alone for a good part of the time, worrying about everything and everyone. And unable to make things change.
We have options to handle our fears. She doesn't have a whole lot. So please, say a prayer for her and her family to get through this OK.
Our daycare provider, who we love and needless to say our children love, is pregnant. She's been having complications for awhile (though you wouldn't have know it to see her or talk to her) and things worsened last week. She went to her OB/GYN for a check and boom, they admitted her to the hospital for observation.
We thought it was going to be overnight, then it was going to be two nights, and we found out at the end of last week that she's likely going to be hospitalized until she has the baby. She's only at 26 weeks, so she would normally have 14 weeks to go yet.
We're scared and nervous for her, for her unborn child, her husband, her other two kids, the rest of her family, and, of course, for ourselves. Our family isn't religious, but hers is, so for her sake I'm saying a prayer that she, her baby, and everyone else in her family is going to come through this OK.
Us, well . . . It's so absolutely godawful to be thinking about ourselves in this situation, but of course we can't help it. We're worried about how well things are going to work out with the daycare staying open (right now, the plan is for various relatives of hers to help out at least through the end of the year).
We're worried about Julia adjusting to not seeing her (though of course, her own children will have things so much worse that it seems petty to mention it), and about Julia adjusting to her new caretakers (though I'm sure they're all wonderful people and we already know some of them).
We're worried about where Allie will go if the daycare has to close, since we can find all-day daycare for Julia somewhere if necessary, but figuring out where Allie goes when she gets off the bus is a little more complicated.
And I'm concerned most of all about how she's going to make it through this period. Laying in a bed in a hospital, alone for a good part of the time, worrying about everything and everyone. And unable to make things change.
We have options to handle our fears. She doesn't have a whole lot. So please, say a prayer for her and her family to get through this OK.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Overload
There are three people on three different computers in our house right now.
Greg is on his laptop on the couch. Allie is on our desktop in her room. I'm on our other desktop in our bedroom.
Greg is playing a word game. Allie is playing a drawing game. I was cruising the internet.
Julia is napping, like a good three-year-old. If she wakes up, however, she can have this computer to play with Elmo.
I have my work laptop home, so I can keep cruising the net if I want to. I don't think I want to.
Greg is on his laptop on the couch. Allie is on our desktop in her room. I'm on our other desktop in our bedroom.
Greg is playing a word game. Allie is playing a drawing game. I was cruising the internet.
Julia is napping, like a good three-year-old. If she wakes up, however, she can have this computer to play with Elmo.
I have my work laptop home, so I can keep cruising the net if I want to. I don't think I want to.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Winter wonderland
We're in the midst of our first snowstorm of the autumn. All over the state (and region, really), cars are sliding into ditches and some people are getting hurt. As an adult, snowstorms cause me to (at least mildly) worry about my family and friends.
It got me thinking about being a kid. When I was little, it seemed to snow a lot more and a lot more often.
I remember the snowbanks in the front yard of the house we lived in at the time and how they were always enormous. Dad and my sister Pam would get out there and shovel (Pam still likes to shovel, for some strange reason) and they'd throw the snow up higher and higher.
Then my sisters and I and all the kids of the neighborhood would build elaborate snow forts, complete the piles of snowballs for the next snowball fight, and places to sit, and windows, if we could manage it. I hated getting a snowball in the face more than anything.
I remember going ice skating at the rink next to my grade school. We couldn't wait for the city to brush the new snow off the rink with a big circular brush attached to the front of a jeep.
I also remember being on the rink one night when they were brushing it and having to leap for our lives into a snowbank to avoid getting run over. We were way too close, considering he wouldn't have been able to stop on the ice.
The city would turn the back entrance of my school (the entrance we used every morning and for recess) into a warming house for the rink, so there'd be thick black mats protecting the floors for months at a time.
I remember going out to play with rough wool snow pants on, and coming in with the cuffs and knees so crusted with snow that they would hardly bend. My pants and my sisters' pants would drip and be soaked for ages, drying in the back hallway, next to our mittens and hats.
I started wearing glasses in the third grade, and I remember being outside for so long that when I came in, it didn't seem like my glasses were ever going to thaw out so I could see again.
And since we didn't have money for a snowblower, I remember being resentful of people who did. They had perfect edges where they'd cleared their sidewalks, so we'd walk along to school and purposely kick our feet to knock down the edges. Not enough so they'd have to shovel or anything, but enough so their sidewalk didn't look nicer than my family's.
And then we'd wait for the next snowstorm. With anticipation, instead of worry. But my kids have inherited that mood of anticipation from me. Tomorrow, maybe we'll make a snowman together. And enjoy the beginning of winter.
It got me thinking about being a kid. When I was little, it seemed to snow a lot more and a lot more often.
I remember the snowbanks in the front yard of the house we lived in at the time and how they were always enormous. Dad and my sister Pam would get out there and shovel (Pam still likes to shovel, for some strange reason) and they'd throw the snow up higher and higher.
Then my sisters and I and all the kids of the neighborhood would build elaborate snow forts, complete the piles of snowballs for the next snowball fight, and places to sit, and windows, if we could manage it. I hated getting a snowball in the face more than anything.
I remember going ice skating at the rink next to my grade school. We couldn't wait for the city to brush the new snow off the rink with a big circular brush attached to the front of a jeep.
I also remember being on the rink one night when they were brushing it and having to leap for our lives into a snowbank to avoid getting run over. We were way too close, considering he wouldn't have been able to stop on the ice.
The city would turn the back entrance of my school (the entrance we used every morning and for recess) into a warming house for the rink, so there'd be thick black mats protecting the floors for months at a time.
I remember going out to play with rough wool snow pants on, and coming in with the cuffs and knees so crusted with snow that they would hardly bend. My pants and my sisters' pants would drip and be soaked for ages, drying in the back hallway, next to our mittens and hats.
I started wearing glasses in the third grade, and I remember being outside for so long that when I came in, it didn't seem like my glasses were ever going to thaw out so I could see again.
And since we didn't have money for a snowblower, I remember being resentful of people who did. They had perfect edges where they'd cleared their sidewalks, so we'd walk along to school and purposely kick our feet to knock down the edges. Not enough so they'd have to shovel or anything, but enough so their sidewalk didn't look nicer than my family's.
And then we'd wait for the next snowstorm. With anticipation, instead of worry. But my kids have inherited that mood of anticipation from me. Tomorrow, maybe we'll make a snowman together. And enjoy the beginning of winter.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Paul Harvey
And now, the rest of the story of last Saturday.
Greg's alarm went off at 4:45 a.m. I tried (unsuccessfully) to go back to sleep until he left the house at 5:15. He kissed the girls before he left, so at 5:20, Allie called me to her room, sobbing because she was sad that Daddy left.
At 5:25, after I got her calmed down, Greg called to say he was on the highway with a flat tire and needed us to come with the other car. I woke up Julia from a sound sleep, told Allie to put on some pants, and started downstairs, only to realize that I'd forgotten to put pants on.
After a brief delay, we got on our winter coats and buckled up and drove out to where Greg was stuck. Greg and I scooped up the girls and put them in their carseats in the other car (at least his car was warm) and Greg had to leave to catch his flight. He was scheduled to leave at 6:50 and it was already 5:45 (and he had a good 20 minutes more to drive to the airport).
The three of us girls sat on the side of the state highway until 6:05 or so, talking about why we were awake and what was going to happen when the tow truck driver Daddy had called showed up. It's still dark at that time on cloudy mornings and Greg doesn't have a flashlight in his car. I asked the tow truck driver if he could just put on our spare tire (or as the girls took to calling it, the baby tire), rather than tow us. Thank goodness, in a five-year-old car, it wasn't flat too.
Another 15 minutes and $52.50 later, we drove home. Naturally, at this point, having the girls go back to sleep, as I would gladly have done, was out of the question. So we stayed awake and mid-morning, I started trying to find a place to get four new tires put on (we should have replaced these tires months ago).
Two places said they were first come, first served for appointments and one said they were already backed up four hours. Then I called Tires Plus and asked if they made appointments and the guy said, sure, come in at noon. I confirmed that putting on the tires would take about an hour. Perfect!
We drove up to Madison, a trip of about 20-25 minutes normally, most of which is on a two-lane highway. The tow truck driver had warned me not to drive on the compact spare tire at any faster than 50 miles per hour, so we drove just a little under 50. Considering weekends are supposed to be relaxing for most people, there are a lot of really pissed off people on the roads on Saturday mornings. I kept looking in the rear view mirror to see how many cars were lined up behind me. When a bunch finally passed, I even got honked at and motioned to. Loads of fun.
So we showed up at noon at Tires Plus and registered. Then we walked a block and a half to a restaurant for lunch (in the cold wind). Then we walked back and Julia fell and skinned her knee. Then she wouldn't walk anymore. Did I mention that she weighs 30 lbs. now and she feels like more in a winter coat, hat, and shoes that light up?
We got back to Tires Plus and our car was back in the same stall in the parking lot. Correction, it was in the same stall in the parking lot, and hadn't been moved, because the baby tire was still on the front wheel.
I asked at the desk if they were going to start on our car anytime soon and the desk person said, I don't know what you were told but our computer shows we expect to finish your car about 2:15. It was about 1:10. I said, are you going to bring it into a service bay anytime soon. He said, yours will be the next car serviced, as soon as a bay becomes available.
I said, are you close to being finished on any of the cars currently in the bays. He said, we'll get to it as soon as possible (in other words, no). I said, we're leaving. He apologized. I said, we're leaving. He had to take the charge off my credit card and we were on our way.
I was not going to drive home with that tire. I was not going to try to go somewhere else. Julia and Allie were both wiped out at this point from waking so early and it's not fun to sit in a stinky (rubber scented) dirty tire shop for hours with a football game on the TV and try to entertain two crabby, tired girls.
We drove to the airport, which was conveniently only about two miles away. When we got there, I realized that though I'd spoken to Greg during his layover, I hadn't asked where he'd parked my car. There's a pretty good sized ramp at this airport, plus long-term surface parking.
Assuming that Greg would go for the more expensive ramp parking because his company is paying for it, we headed in there. I immediately realized that we were going to be very lucky to find our car quickly. And our luck finally changed. We found it in just a couple of minutes and a couple of levels (nice spot, honey!).
I pulled the car out, parked the other car in the same spot, transferred the girls, transferred his intake ticket for the ramp, wrote a quick welcome home note, and we left.
And we managed to do it within 15 minutes, so there was no charge for being in the long-term parking ramp (shades of Fargo, averted).
Greg will be home on Thursday and he'll have to drive my car to work on Friday while I take one more trip to my work with the compact spare. Then Saturday, when we have two cars and can leave one and GO AWAY, SO WHO CARES HOW LONG IT TAKES YOU TO FIX IT, we'll get it fixed.
I am quite convinced we should have done this ages ago. Consider me reformed when it comes to tire maintenance.
The day ended well. The girls both took naps in the afternoon, Julia a long one and Allie a short one. We went to a McDonald's playland in the evening and they both had a blast. And at the end of the day, I have a car with four good tires (at least at the moment).
How was your weekend?
Greg's alarm went off at 4:45 a.m. I tried (unsuccessfully) to go back to sleep until he left the house at 5:15. He kissed the girls before he left, so at 5:20, Allie called me to her room, sobbing because she was sad that Daddy left.
At 5:25, after I got her calmed down, Greg called to say he was on the highway with a flat tire and needed us to come with the other car. I woke up Julia from a sound sleep, told Allie to put on some pants, and started downstairs, only to realize that I'd forgotten to put pants on.
After a brief delay, we got on our winter coats and buckled up and drove out to where Greg was stuck. Greg and I scooped up the girls and put them in their carseats in the other car (at least his car was warm) and Greg had to leave to catch his flight. He was scheduled to leave at 6:50 and it was already 5:45 (and he had a good 20 minutes more to drive to the airport).
The three of us girls sat on the side of the state highway until 6:05 or so, talking about why we were awake and what was going to happen when the tow truck driver Daddy had called showed up. It's still dark at that time on cloudy mornings and Greg doesn't have a flashlight in his car. I asked the tow truck driver if he could just put on our spare tire (or as the girls took to calling it, the baby tire), rather than tow us. Thank goodness, in a five-year-old car, it wasn't flat too.
Another 15 minutes and $52.50 later, we drove home. Naturally, at this point, having the girls go back to sleep, as I would gladly have done, was out of the question. So we stayed awake and mid-morning, I started trying to find a place to get four new tires put on (we should have replaced these tires months ago).
Two places said they were first come, first served for appointments and one said they were already backed up four hours. Then I called Tires Plus and asked if they made appointments and the guy said, sure, come in at noon. I confirmed that putting on the tires would take about an hour. Perfect!
We drove up to Madison, a trip of about 20-25 minutes normally, most of which is on a two-lane highway. The tow truck driver had warned me not to drive on the compact spare tire at any faster than 50 miles per hour, so we drove just a little under 50. Considering weekends are supposed to be relaxing for most people, there are a lot of really pissed off people on the roads on Saturday mornings. I kept looking in the rear view mirror to see how many cars were lined up behind me. When a bunch finally passed, I even got honked at and motioned to. Loads of fun.
So we showed up at noon at Tires Plus and registered. Then we walked a block and a half to a restaurant for lunch (in the cold wind). Then we walked back and Julia fell and skinned her knee. Then she wouldn't walk anymore. Did I mention that she weighs 30 lbs. now and she feels like more in a winter coat, hat, and shoes that light up?
We got back to Tires Plus and our car was back in the same stall in the parking lot. Correction, it was in the same stall in the parking lot, and hadn't been moved, because the baby tire was still on the front wheel.
I asked at the desk if they were going to start on our car anytime soon and the desk person said, I don't know what you were told but our computer shows we expect to finish your car about 2:15. It was about 1:10. I said, are you going to bring it into a service bay anytime soon. He said, yours will be the next car serviced, as soon as a bay becomes available.
I said, are you close to being finished on any of the cars currently in the bays. He said, we'll get to it as soon as possible (in other words, no). I said, we're leaving. He apologized. I said, we're leaving. He had to take the charge off my credit card and we were on our way.
I was not going to drive home with that tire. I was not going to try to go somewhere else. Julia and Allie were both wiped out at this point from waking so early and it's not fun to sit in a stinky (rubber scented) dirty tire shop for hours with a football game on the TV and try to entertain two crabby, tired girls.
We drove to the airport, which was conveniently only about two miles away. When we got there, I realized that though I'd spoken to Greg during his layover, I hadn't asked where he'd parked my car. There's a pretty good sized ramp at this airport, plus long-term surface parking.
Assuming that Greg would go for the more expensive ramp parking because his company is paying for it, we headed in there. I immediately realized that we were going to be very lucky to find our car quickly. And our luck finally changed. We found it in just a couple of minutes and a couple of levels (nice spot, honey!).
I pulled the car out, parked the other car in the same spot, transferred the girls, transferred his intake ticket for the ramp, wrote a quick welcome home note, and we left.
And we managed to do it within 15 minutes, so there was no charge for being in the long-term parking ramp (shades of Fargo, averted).
Greg will be home on Thursday and he'll have to drive my car to work on Friday while I take one more trip to my work with the compact spare. Then Saturday, when we have two cars and can leave one and GO AWAY, SO WHO CARES HOW LONG IT TAKES YOU TO FIX IT, we'll get it fixed.
I am quite convinced we should have done this ages ago. Consider me reformed when it comes to tire maintenance.
The day ended well. The girls both took naps in the afternoon, Julia a long one and Allie a short one. We went to a McDonald's playland in the evening and they both had a blast. And at the end of the day, I have a car with four good tires (at least at the moment).
How was your weekend?
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
324
That's how many trick-or-treaters (or as my family calls them, halloweenies) that we had visit our house last night in two hours.
That's a pretty good year. I don't think it's a record. The second year we lived in our house, the weather was warm and kids were out for a long time, even young ones. That year I think we topped 350.
Most people I've talked to say that they get anywhere from 30-50 kids. Why do we get so many more? We live on the corner of a pretty busy street and we live on a cul de sac.
Plus Greg puts some effort into our decorations. This year, we had the traditional full-size mummy man, fog machines, black lightbulbs, and strobe lights. Yes, plural strobe lights. I now have epilepsy.
Trick-or-treating started at 6:00 and Greg started off around the neighborhood with the girls. I sat in a lawn chair on the new front porch and waited (we never bother to sit inside or you'd just have the front door open all night).
I had two kids come up. The little ones are pretty freaked out by the mummy, so I'd call, "It's OK. We're nice! It's just pretend." Then I waited and looked down the street to see who else was coming.
There was a group of kids coming out of the house across the street and some came around the corner and some appeared from up the hill and within 3 minutes, I had 25 or so kids. Then in another 5 minutes, I was already up to 50 kids. Yes, we keep track. It's a tradition in my family.
We made it most of the way through the 2 hours before we ran out of candy, until about 7:40. That's pretty good--the first year we lived here, we had no idea of what to expect and we ran out of candy in 20 minutes. Greg ran back to the store twice before we gave up and turned out the light.
We're cash-poor now because we spent all of our money on candy (literally about $50), but at least we had fun. Happy belated Halloween to you!
That's a pretty good year. I don't think it's a record. The second year we lived in our house, the weather was warm and kids were out for a long time, even young ones. That year I think we topped 350.
Most people I've talked to say that they get anywhere from 30-50 kids. Why do we get so many more? We live on the corner of a pretty busy street and we live on a cul de sac.
Plus Greg puts some effort into our decorations. This year, we had the traditional full-size mummy man, fog machines, black lightbulbs, and strobe lights. Yes, plural strobe lights. I now have epilepsy.
Trick-or-treating started at 6:00 and Greg started off around the neighborhood with the girls. I sat in a lawn chair on the new front porch and waited (we never bother to sit inside or you'd just have the front door open all night).
I had two kids come up. The little ones are pretty freaked out by the mummy, so I'd call, "It's OK. We're nice! It's just pretend." Then I waited and looked down the street to see who else was coming.
There was a group of kids coming out of the house across the street and some came around the corner and some appeared from up the hill and within 3 minutes, I had 25 or so kids. Then in another 5 minutes, I was already up to 50 kids. Yes, we keep track. It's a tradition in my family.
We made it most of the way through the 2 hours before we ran out of candy, until about 7:40. That's pretty good--the first year we lived here, we had no idea of what to expect and we ran out of candy in 20 minutes. Greg ran back to the store twice before we gave up and turned out the light.
We're cash-poor now because we spent all of our money on candy (literally about $50), but at least we had fun. Happy belated Halloween to you!
Monday, October 30, 2006
Hallowed ground
I don't really understand why one of my latest favorite shows is "House Hunters" on Home & Garden TV.
The entire concept of the show is that you get to know a little bit about a family or couple and their current living arrangement. Then they look at three new homes. Then they pick one of the homes. That's it.
They have two versions of the show, one for American couples and one called "House Hunters International," where a couple or family does the same routine as above, but in Rome or England or Belize.
It's fascinating to see what you can get for $500,000 in Rome (a one-bedroom apartment with some character) or in Buxton, England (a seven-bedroom home with room for a mother-in-law) or Belize (a three-bedroom house with a pool, beach, and boat slip, fully furnished).
It doesn't make me want to move, however.
The entire concept of the show is that you get to know a little bit about a family or couple and their current living arrangement. Then they look at three new homes. Then they pick one of the homes. That's it.
They have two versions of the show, one for American couples and one called "House Hunters International," where a couple or family does the same routine as above, but in Rome or England or Belize.
It's fascinating to see what you can get for $500,000 in Rome (a one-bedroom apartment with some character) or in Buxton, England (a seven-bedroom home with room for a mother-in-law) or Belize (a three-bedroom house with a pool, beach, and boat slip, fully furnished).
It doesn't make me want to move, however.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Family not dynamic
Weekend mornings are always very slow in the Lee household.
Usually, Greg gets up with whatever child comes walking into our bedroom on Saturday mornings and I do the same on Sunday mornings. What time that arising occurs is strictly a matter of chance.
Yesterday, I got up when Julia and Allie both wandered into our bedroom at 7:15 because Greg had flight delays and didn't get in until 12:30 p.m. He stayed in bed for awhile and got up later.
This morning, when Julia came into our room at (gasp!) 6:10 or so--because of the time change last night--Greg heroically dragged himself out of bed to try to convince her to go back to sleep. Didn't work.
I lazed in bed for quite a bit longer, then was the last in the family to get up, past 8:00 (are you jealous, Dan?).
And we haven't been doing much since. Greg made an amazing breakfast and cleaned up afterwards (yes, I protested). I read the paper. The girls played in the living room. Greg watched TV.
That's pretty much what happens every weekend morning, until we get motivated by whatever we're supposed to get accomplished and someone gets in the shower.
It's pretty bad when your three-year-old begs to get dressed.
I can't even count how many times Dan has seen my family in their jammies because we get online with him on Saturday or Sunday mornings and no one has dressed yet. Fortunately my weekly call to my mom is by phone, not by webcam, or we'd be doing that with even more people.
Today, we need to go buy Allie more winter clothes, especially pants. Greg asked me mid-morning when I was going to be finished with the newspaper. He then started watching an hour-long program on TV. I stopped reading and came upstairs to shower. Now I've been ready to go for awhile, it's noon, and Greg is still watching TV (Tivo, by the way). On other weekends, it is just as frequently me that's dragging their feet.
The sun is shining and it's a beautiful day to get those outdoor autumn projects done, plus we do have to go shopping.
Yet I sit in our bedroom typing and my family is downstairs playing and watching TV.
Just call us the potato family!
Usually, Greg gets up with whatever child comes walking into our bedroom on Saturday mornings and I do the same on Sunday mornings. What time that arising occurs is strictly a matter of chance.
Yesterday, I got up when Julia and Allie both wandered into our bedroom at 7:15 because Greg had flight delays and didn't get in until 12:30 p.m. He stayed in bed for awhile and got up later.
This morning, when Julia came into our room at (gasp!) 6:10 or so--because of the time change last night--Greg heroically dragged himself out of bed to try to convince her to go back to sleep. Didn't work.
I lazed in bed for quite a bit longer, then was the last in the family to get up, past 8:00 (are you jealous, Dan?).
And we haven't been doing much since. Greg made an amazing breakfast and cleaned up afterwards (yes, I protested). I read the paper. The girls played in the living room. Greg watched TV.
That's pretty much what happens every weekend morning, until we get motivated by whatever we're supposed to get accomplished and someone gets in the shower.
It's pretty bad when your three-year-old begs to get dressed.
I can't even count how many times Dan has seen my family in their jammies because we get online with him on Saturday or Sunday mornings and no one has dressed yet. Fortunately my weekly call to my mom is by phone, not by webcam, or we'd be doing that with even more people.
Today, we need to go buy Allie more winter clothes, especially pants. Greg asked me mid-morning when I was going to be finished with the newspaper. He then started watching an hour-long program on TV. I stopped reading and came upstairs to shower. Now I've been ready to go for awhile, it's noon, and Greg is still watching TV (Tivo, by the way). On other weekends, it is just as frequently me that's dragging their feet.
The sun is shining and it's a beautiful day to get those outdoor autumn projects done, plus we do have to go shopping.
Yet I sit in our bedroom typing and my family is downstairs playing and watching TV.
Just call us the potato family!
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Morning edition
On a normal work/school day, I get up almost an hour before Greg and over an hour before I wake up the girls.
I use the time to shower, do my hair and makeup, feed the cat, eat breakfast while reading the paper, brush my teeth, sometimes check online, and to get my thoughts organized for the day.
It's my quiet time. I don't watch TV and I don't talk to anyone except maybe Greg, if he's not still trying to get nine more minutes of clock radio snooze.
Greg is in Pittsburgh (he'll be home tomorrow), so this morning I got up quietly and went down the hall to get fresh towels for my shower. The linen closet door sticks a little, so it made a little bit of a noise as I opened it.
I went back down the hall to our bathroom, got my things organized, and I noticed that the bathroom door was open slightly. I've set the cycle on our electronic thermostat to kick in and start bringing the house temperature up as I get out of the shower, so I went to close the door against drafts.
And in walked Julia, holding her blankie up to her eyes against the light. She was awake, and I couldn't pan her off on my husband to try to get her to go back to sleep.
Did I mention it was 5:30?
Things have been just a little bit off all day, ever since. They'd both better sleep in until I wake them in the morning, or I'm going to be panning them off on Daddy as soon as he walks in the door.
Welcome home, honey. Bye!
I use the time to shower, do my hair and makeup, feed the cat, eat breakfast while reading the paper, brush my teeth, sometimes check online, and to get my thoughts organized for the day.
It's my quiet time. I don't watch TV and I don't talk to anyone except maybe Greg, if he's not still trying to get nine more minutes of clock radio snooze.
Greg is in Pittsburgh (he'll be home tomorrow), so this morning I got up quietly and went down the hall to get fresh towels for my shower. The linen closet door sticks a little, so it made a little bit of a noise as I opened it.
I went back down the hall to our bathroom, got my things organized, and I noticed that the bathroom door was open slightly. I've set the cycle on our electronic thermostat to kick in and start bringing the house temperature up as I get out of the shower, so I went to close the door against drafts.
And in walked Julia, holding her blankie up to her eyes against the light. She was awake, and I couldn't pan her off on my husband to try to get her to go back to sleep.
Did I mention it was 5:30?
Things have been just a little bit off all day, ever since. They'd both better sleep in until I wake them in the morning, or I'm going to be panning them off on Daddy as soon as he walks in the door.
Welcome home, honey. Bye!
Monday, October 23, 2006
Is it breakfast time yet?
I usually eat toast for breakfast, obviously. Two slices, nicely buttered, no jelly, made sequentially.
But when I was little, I almost always ate cereal for breakfast. Cheerios, Rice Krispies, Froot Loops, and Super Sugar Crisps (which they wimped out on and renamed Super Golden Crisps some years back, the losers--like they're fooling anyone). You have to admire a cereal company that actually put "Sugar" right on the front of the box in huge letters, however.
I think my favorite cereal, though, was Quisp.
Remember Quisp? With the little martian guy? Weird name for a cereal, but it was gooooood.
It wasn't until I was in college that I realized Captain Crunch was exactly the same as Quisp. What's the matter, Mom and Dad, was Quisp cheaper?
Occasionally, I'll still see Quisp in the cereal aisle of our local supermarket, but it doesn't seem to really be around anymore. Greg and I both snatch it up when we see it.
Someday, that little martian guy is going to find his way home, and all we'll be stuck with in America is the Captain. That will truly be a sad day.
But when I was little, I almost always ate cereal for breakfast. Cheerios, Rice Krispies, Froot Loops, and Super Sugar Crisps (which they wimped out on and renamed Super Golden Crisps some years back, the losers--like they're fooling anyone). You have to admire a cereal company that actually put "Sugar" right on the front of the box in huge letters, however.
I think my favorite cereal, though, was Quisp.
Remember Quisp? With the little martian guy? Weird name for a cereal, but it was gooooood.
It wasn't until I was in college that I realized Captain Crunch was exactly the same as Quisp. What's the matter, Mom and Dad, was Quisp cheaper?
Occasionally, I'll still see Quisp in the cereal aisle of our local supermarket, but it doesn't seem to really be around anymore. Greg and I both snatch it up when we see it.
Someday, that little martian guy is going to find his way home, and all we'll be stuck with in America is the Captain. That will truly be a sad day.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Lessons from the tub
Allie is 6 1/2 now and I'm trying to teach her how to take a shower. I guess I never realized that shower-taking was a skill but she apparently has not been paying any attention the last approximately 476 times she's been given a bath or shower because she doesn't seem to know how to do it.
When I instruct her, facial feature by facial feature, how to wash her face, she doesn't seem to get it that in order to actually effect the removal of dirt, she needs to unball the washcloth and scrub more than gingerly.
I asked her, Allie, do you understand how Mommy and Daddy rub you to get you clean? She said, I guess I was playing.
No more rubber duckies for her, if I don't want to still be doing this chore when she's 10.
When I instruct her, facial feature by facial feature, how to wash her face, she doesn't seem to get it that in order to actually effect the removal of dirt, she needs to unball the washcloth and scrub more than gingerly.
I asked her, Allie, do you understand how Mommy and Daddy rub you to get you clean? She said, I guess I was playing.
No more rubber duckies for her, if I don't want to still be doing this chore when she's 10.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Dance, Elementary School Style
Last night, Greg was tired from shoving crates around all day, so I took Allie to her fall school dance.
Last year, Greg was traveling and Allie begged me to go, so I took both girls. It was not fun to have Julia trying to climb me all evening because of the scary costumes (despite the school's plea for kids not to wear scary outfits).
So this year she stayed home with Greg and Allie and I snuck out. We put our canned food donation in the barrel, checked out the D.J., looked at the costumes of the other kids, waited in line for a snack, checked out the pumpkin contest entries (yeah, I completely believe that all of those were prepared by kids--give me an f-ing break), took Allie's picture, tried to get Allie to do the hokey pokey, and watched as her principal was duct-taped to the wall for charity. At the end of the night, they take away the stool he's standing on and see how long he sticks there.
Allie was not having fun, because she hadn't seen any of her bestest friends yet. We were on our way to the door to leave when, hallelujah, we ran into one of her friends, Hannah.
A sweet hug followed between a harvest princess and Supergirl (Allie) and the two of them ran off to chase boys, which they did for the next half hour. Then Allie's quarry turned around unexpectedly and she got her tooth bumped. Suddenly, she realized she was tired and hot, so she said goodbye to Hannah and we left.
No underage drinking, no sex, no rejection from a crush, no teasing for her style of dancing or because of what she was wearing. First grade dances are great, from a parent's point of view!
Last year, Greg was traveling and Allie begged me to go, so I took both girls. It was not fun to have Julia trying to climb me all evening because of the scary costumes (despite the school's plea for kids not to wear scary outfits).
So this year she stayed home with Greg and Allie and I snuck out. We put our canned food donation in the barrel, checked out the D.J., looked at the costumes of the other kids, waited in line for a snack, checked out the pumpkin contest entries (yeah, I completely believe that all of those were prepared by kids--give me an f-ing break), took Allie's picture, tried to get Allie to do the hokey pokey, and watched as her principal was duct-taped to the wall for charity. At the end of the night, they take away the stool he's standing on and see how long he sticks there.
Allie was not having fun, because she hadn't seen any of her bestest friends yet. We were on our way to the door to leave when, hallelujah, we ran into one of her friends, Hannah.
A sweet hug followed between a harvest princess and Supergirl (Allie) and the two of them ran off to chase boys, which they did for the next half hour. Then Allie's quarry turned around unexpectedly and she got her tooth bumped. Suddenly, she realized she was tired and hot, so she said goodbye to Hannah and we left.
No underage drinking, no sex, no rejection from a crush, no teasing for her style of dancing or because of what she was wearing. First grade dances are great, from a parent's point of view!
Monday, October 16, 2006
My favorite things about this weekend
My favorite memories about our weekend in the beautiful Door peninsula:
Trying wine samples at the Von Stiehl Winery in Algoma and remembering how we liked the tour the last time we went, 11 years ago, on our first real vacation together as a couple.
Stopping at my grandparent's graves to put flowers on. I haven't been there for at least 10 years and it was way overdue. It doesn't fit with the tone of the rest of the weekend, but I'm glad we stopped.
Eating at the Inn at Cedar Crossing restaurant and afterwards reading Greg's funny comment from 11 years ago in the B&B's guest book.
Getting to our cottage and finding it even better than I had hoped, cute, immaculate, nicely decorated, quiet, and even better overall than the pictures that made me book it online.
Having Greg unclench after only 10 minutes at our cottage.
Visiting Wind Cave County Park and watching my husband get wet by being daring.
Spending time exploring the county with my husband and having a wonderful time despite the fact that it was very cold and very windy and occasionally snowing.
Seeing a good play in an unheated theater, surrounded by people wearing hats, mittens, hoods, blankets, and boots.
Sleeping in a wonderful bed with the window open, so we could occasionally hear the waves on the shore.
Not having to get apple juice in sippy cups as soon as we got up.
Having an entire second day to do exactly what we wanted to do and no more.
Being with my husband.
Seeing my girls again on Sunday morning.
Trying wine samples at the Von Stiehl Winery in Algoma and remembering how we liked the tour the last time we went, 11 years ago, on our first real vacation together as a couple.
Stopping at my grandparent's graves to put flowers on. I haven't been there for at least 10 years and it was way overdue. It doesn't fit with the tone of the rest of the weekend, but I'm glad we stopped.
Eating at the Inn at Cedar Crossing restaurant and afterwards reading Greg's funny comment from 11 years ago in the B&B's guest book.
Getting to our cottage and finding it even better than I had hoped, cute, immaculate, nicely decorated, quiet, and even better overall than the pictures that made me book it online.
Having Greg unclench after only 10 minutes at our cottage.
Visiting Wind Cave County Park and watching my husband get wet by being daring.
Spending time exploring the county with my husband and having a wonderful time despite the fact that it was very cold and very windy and occasionally snowing.
Seeing a good play in an unheated theater, surrounded by people wearing hats, mittens, hoods, blankets, and boots.
Sleeping in a wonderful bed with the window open, so we could occasionally hear the waves on the shore.
Not having to get apple juice in sippy cups as soon as we got up.
Having an entire second day to do exactly what we wanted to do and no more.
Being with my husband.
Seeing my girls again on Sunday morning.
Friday, October 06, 2006
Overheard
"Leave your panties on. Julia, leave your panties on! If you don't leave your panties on, the police are going to come and arrest you."
Gregory, my dear, just because that worked on you when your mom told you that 35 years ago doesn't mean it's going to work on our little one. The child thinks it's funny to be naked.
Fortunately, winter is coming closer every day and she also doesn't like to be cold. I'm think the naked thing will be short-lived.
Gregory, my dear, just because that worked on you when your mom told you that 35 years ago doesn't mean it's going to work on our little one. The child thinks it's funny to be naked.
Fortunately, winter is coming closer every day and she also doesn't like to be cold. I'm think the naked thing will be short-lived.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Bad cat
Last night, we had chicken for dinner. The bones went into the trash and we forgot to close the door to the mudroom where the trash can is. What does this mean?
Pig went scavenging at 3:00 this morning and had herself a little snack! We were having a thunderstorm, Allie had called me to come into her room, and I was trying to go back to sleep with I heard it go over.
She's naughty. What a surpise that she didn't eat all of the food we gave her (in her dish) last night!
Pig went scavenging at 3:00 this morning and had herself a little snack! We were having a thunderstorm, Allie had called me to come into her room, and I was trying to go back to sleep with I heard it go over.
She's naughty. What a surpise that she didn't eat all of the food we gave her (in her dish) last night!
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
That's a whole decade!
Ten years ago this month, I was a busy woman.
Greg and I were in the final stages of planning our wedding, which took place on October 19.
My dad had selected the polka music he wanted played at the reception, Greg and I had practiced polkaing together, we'd found the cartoon videotape we wanted playing for the kids (and adults) at the reception until the bridal party got there, we'd arranged the rental of the popcorn machine, Greg's sisters were getting fitted for their tuxes (they were our ushers), Greg had arranged for the school bus to take us and the wedding party from the church to the hall, and other assorted sundry details were being handled.
We had a lot of traditional elements to our wedding, but we tried to put in fun touches too. One of the things we weren't able to do was to have a snowcone machine. The reception hall was too freaked out about possible carpet stains. As it was, we had to guarantee extra money for the popcorn cleanup.
Did I mention that my Uncle Jim had many, many drinks at the reception and forgot a batch of popcorn in the cooker? Just a little smoke, no big deal. (Though it was a no smoking hall, which was marvelous.)
We had an amazing, wonderful day with our families and friends. As soon as it was over, we both said that we'd like to do the entire day over again from start to finish, as long as we didn't have to pay for it again.
Did I mention the Chinese Fire Drills around the school bus in the middle of traffic?
It was the happiest day of my life and it still is. It's been a wonderful ten years. I love you, Gregory!
Greg and I were in the final stages of planning our wedding, which took place on October 19.
My dad had selected the polka music he wanted played at the reception, Greg and I had practiced polkaing together, we'd found the cartoon videotape we wanted playing for the kids (and adults) at the reception until the bridal party got there, we'd arranged the rental of the popcorn machine, Greg's sisters were getting fitted for their tuxes (they were our ushers), Greg had arranged for the school bus to take us and the wedding party from the church to the hall, and other assorted sundry details were being handled.
We had a lot of traditional elements to our wedding, but we tried to put in fun touches too. One of the things we weren't able to do was to have a snowcone machine. The reception hall was too freaked out about possible carpet stains. As it was, we had to guarantee extra money for the popcorn cleanup.
Did I mention that my Uncle Jim had many, many drinks at the reception and forgot a batch of popcorn in the cooker? Just a little smoke, no big deal. (Though it was a no smoking hall, which was marvelous.)
We had an amazing, wonderful day with our families and friends. As soon as it was over, we both said that we'd like to do the entire day over again from start to finish, as long as we didn't have to pay for it again.
Did I mention the Chinese Fire Drills around the school bus in the middle of traffic?
It was the happiest day of my life and it still is. It's been a wonderful ten years. I love you, Gregory!
Friday, September 29, 2006
Money down the hose
I don't wear slacks to work. I don't like the way I look dressed in "slacks." What a stupid name for a piece of clothing, really.
I wear a skirt to work every day, normally with "tan" colored hose (which is so ironic since I've never even begun to have a tan on my legs in my entire life and I never intend to).
I've been working in the professional world for (gasp!) 19 years now. Ladies, are you with me here--I don't think I even want to begin to think how much money I have spent over the years on hose.
Literally thousands of pairs of hose. Run and holey eventually, every one of them, until I couldn't wear them any longer and pretend that I didn't know I had a run.
I buy No Nonsense hose, or Hanes, so I've spent much less money over the years on hose than other women I know. I've bought regular hose and control top hose and even thigh high hose (way back when) by the dozens and dozens.
Right now, I'm typing this in our bedroom, wearing a cozy wool sweater with a hole in the elbow, that I originally bought for my trousseau (that's what your honeymoon wardrobe is called, FYI). Since our 10th wedding anniversary is coming up in three weeks, you can do the math.
If I could buy a pair of hose that would last a fraction as long----heck, if I could invent a pair of hose that would last a fraction as long, I'd be rich.
Rich, rich, I tell you, beyond my wildest dreams. My wildest dream about hose, that is.
I wear a skirt to work every day, normally with "tan" colored hose (which is so ironic since I've never even begun to have a tan on my legs in my entire life and I never intend to).
I've been working in the professional world for (gasp!) 19 years now. Ladies, are you with me here--I don't think I even want to begin to think how much money I have spent over the years on hose.
Literally thousands of pairs of hose. Run and holey eventually, every one of them, until I couldn't wear them any longer and pretend that I didn't know I had a run.
I buy No Nonsense hose, or Hanes, so I've spent much less money over the years on hose than other women I know. I've bought regular hose and control top hose and even thigh high hose (way back when) by the dozens and dozens.
Right now, I'm typing this in our bedroom, wearing a cozy wool sweater with a hole in the elbow, that I originally bought for my trousseau (that's what your honeymoon wardrobe is called, FYI). Since our 10th wedding anniversary is coming up in three weeks, you can do the math.
If I could buy a pair of hose that would last a fraction as long----heck, if I could invent a pair of hose that would last a fraction as long, I'd be rich.
Rich, rich, I tell you, beyond my wildest dreams. My wildest dream about hose, that is.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Performance anxiety
Last night, Greg was in the basement on the computer. The girls and I went upstairs at their bedtime and did the normal routine, then I read a very long version of Sleeping Beauty and they got into their beds about 15 minutes later than usual.
I went back down to the living room and started watching "Miami Ink," the show on the Discovery Channel about a tattoo shop, which I mostly watch (intermittently) because I can't believe what things people choose to have permanently imprinted on their bodies.
About five minutes later, Allie called me. I trucked upstairs and asked, from the doorway, what she wanted. She said, Mommy, we forgot to do my homework.
Now that she's in first grade, she has some homework almost every night. It usually takes 10-20 minutes to complete and she was right, we'd forgotten to do that night's worksheet.
I reassured her that we would start on her homework as soon as she got up in the morning and that we'd have plenty of time to get it done. The punishment, apparently, for coming to school without your homework done is that you have to miss first recess to complete it.
I said I'd go downstairs, get out the worksheet, read it, and be ready to help her get it done as soon as she woke up. She said OK and laid down again.
True to my word, I went downstairs and got out the worksheet to review what she had to do. I was still holding it on the couch when I heard her crying upstairs.
I went back up there and she was sobbing like her first boyfriend had just broken her heart. Crying her eyes out. She said she couldn't sleep because she was worried about not getting her homework done and missing recess.
I turned on her light and we spent the next 10 minutes completing her worksheet. As soon as we were finished, the poor girl relaxed onto the pillows, turned onto her side, and said goodnight.
She told me today she fell asleep in two minutes, since she knew she wasn't going to have to miss recess.
Allie is 6 1/2. Isn't this sad? What happened to a carefree childhood, people!
I went back down to the living room and started watching "Miami Ink," the show on the Discovery Channel about a tattoo shop, which I mostly watch (intermittently) because I can't believe what things people choose to have permanently imprinted on their bodies.
About five minutes later, Allie called me. I trucked upstairs and asked, from the doorway, what she wanted. She said, Mommy, we forgot to do my homework.
Now that she's in first grade, she has some homework almost every night. It usually takes 10-20 minutes to complete and she was right, we'd forgotten to do that night's worksheet.
I reassured her that we would start on her homework as soon as she got up in the morning and that we'd have plenty of time to get it done. The punishment, apparently, for coming to school without your homework done is that you have to miss first recess to complete it.
I said I'd go downstairs, get out the worksheet, read it, and be ready to help her get it done as soon as she woke up. She said OK and laid down again.
True to my word, I went downstairs and got out the worksheet to review what she had to do. I was still holding it on the couch when I heard her crying upstairs.
I went back up there and she was sobbing like her first boyfriend had just broken her heart. Crying her eyes out. She said she couldn't sleep because she was worried about not getting her homework done and missing recess.
I turned on her light and we spent the next 10 minutes completing her worksheet. As soon as we were finished, the poor girl relaxed onto the pillows, turned onto her side, and said goodnight.
She told me today she fell asleep in two minutes, since she knew she wasn't going to have to miss recess.
Allie is 6 1/2. Isn't this sad? What happened to a carefree childhood, people!
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Seasonal allergies
There are things about almost every season of the year that I very much dislike.
I don't like being cold in the winter and I don't like snow very much (except to look at and only if I have sunglasses) and I don't like ice and I don't like my car being filthy because of slushchunks and fizzback (ask my sister Pam).
I don't like summer because I don't like very hot weather and I don't like the sun very much (I burn very easily) and I don't like BUGS (especially mosquitos, but I'm also freaked out about ticks and Lyme disease).
I don't like autumn because it's a depressing time of year, everything dying and you know it's only going to get colder and it starts getting dark so early in the evening and you have to start wearing socks and shoes again (I'm big on going barefoot or wearing sandals).
My favorite season is spring (you knew there had to be one season I liked, right?). The days are getting longer and the grass is getting green and there's spring flowers (my absolute favorite flowers) and it's getting warmer and the sunlight just seems better.
What's your favorite season?
I don't like being cold in the winter and I don't like snow very much (except to look at and only if I have sunglasses) and I don't like ice and I don't like my car being filthy because of slushchunks and fizzback (ask my sister Pam).
I don't like summer because I don't like very hot weather and I don't like the sun very much (I burn very easily) and I don't like BUGS (especially mosquitos, but I'm also freaked out about ticks and Lyme disease).
I don't like autumn because it's a depressing time of year, everything dying and you know it's only going to get colder and it starts getting dark so early in the evening and you have to start wearing socks and shoes again (I'm big on going barefoot or wearing sandals).
My favorite season is spring (you knew there had to be one season I liked, right?). The days are getting longer and the grass is getting green and there's spring flowers (my absolute favorite flowers) and it's getting warmer and the sunlight just seems better.
What's your favorite season?
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Seasons changing
Autumn is almost here. How do I know?
I looked at a calendar!
Ha ha ha! I kill myself.
I looked at a calendar!
Ha ha ha! I kill myself.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Dates well documented here
Do we really need to have seven calendars in the house, with six of them within ten feet of each other?
Umm, I didn't think so.
Nonetheless, when Allie had her very first homework assignment ever tonight, she was required to count the calendars in the house and use tally marks to record each one. Then she had to total the marks and sure enough, it came to seven.
Believe it or not, we have four calendars just on the bulletin board in the mudroom. There's the cute one Allie made last week, where she wrote all of the numbers herself and the 6 in 26 is backwards (hazard of being a lefty, or of being a first-grader).
There's the monthly one the school gave us, so we can look at the art that students produced that the school district felt was worthy of duplication. There's the consolidated one for the entire school year, so we can see the multitude of days that we're going to have to pay for full-day daycare instead of just after school care.
And there's the school daily lunch calendar, so we can see if it's a hot lunch day or a turkey sandwich day with pink chips (those are Sun Chips, which were in a pink bag because of a breast cancer benefit once and now they're forever known as pink chips), carrots that she won't eat, and raisins or mandarin oranges or chunk pears.
Plus the calendar in the checkbook in my purse, and the Onion newspaper page-a-day calendar (which often has profanity on it, so if Allie ever decides to start reading it, it's going far, far away).
The only other calendar in the house is the Hello Kitty calendar on the wall upstairs in Allie's room.
I think we're more than covered. Anyone wanna schedule an appointment or something?
Umm, I didn't think so.
Nonetheless, when Allie had her very first homework assignment ever tonight, she was required to count the calendars in the house and use tally marks to record each one. Then she had to total the marks and sure enough, it came to seven.
Believe it or not, we have four calendars just on the bulletin board in the mudroom. There's the cute one Allie made last week, where she wrote all of the numbers herself and the 6 in 26 is backwards (hazard of being a lefty, or of being a first-grader).
There's the monthly one the school gave us, so we can look at the art that students produced that the school district felt was worthy of duplication. There's the consolidated one for the entire school year, so we can see the multitude of days that we're going to have to pay for full-day daycare instead of just after school care.
And there's the school daily lunch calendar, so we can see if it's a hot lunch day or a turkey sandwich day with pink chips (those are Sun Chips, which were in a pink bag because of a breast cancer benefit once and now they're forever known as pink chips), carrots that she won't eat, and raisins or mandarin oranges or chunk pears.
Plus the calendar in the checkbook in my purse, and the Onion newspaper page-a-day calendar (which often has profanity on it, so if Allie ever decides to start reading it, it's going far, far away).
The only other calendar in the house is the Hello Kitty calendar on the wall upstairs in Allie's room.
I think we're more than covered. Anyone wanna schedule an appointment or something?
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Me and bugs
If you know me, you might look at the time this post was entered and think, "wow, that's unusual, for Deb to be putting up a new post at 12:30 at night." Yeah, I think so too.
The reason I'm awake is that I feel like I want to claw my skin off.
Friday night, the girls and I went to play outside at about 6:30 p.m. Now we live in Wisconsin, where after about 7:30 or so, you can expect to be attacked by mosquitos if you're in the grass or shade or near water.
It wasn't after 7:30 and we were in the driveway, but that didn't seem to make a difference. We were making chalk drawings and we were all being ATTACKED by little swarming mosquitos.
It got so bad that I made the girls stop playing so we could go in. Despite vocal protests from them, I might add.
We went into the house and later, I was reading a couple of books to the girls when suddenly, I also felt like I wanted to claw my skin off.
I can't ever remember feeling that way with mosquito bites. I felt like my ankles (where I have most of my 14 or so bites) were on fire. I rushed maniacally through the rest of the book so I could rush upstairs and get my itch gel. Julia has about 3 bites and Allie has about 5.
I've been exceeding the recommended dosage of itch gel since. Tonight, I went to bed (about 2 hours ago) after putting on a fresh coat, but I guess the movement of my ankles in the sheets prematurely wore off the medicine.
Thus my wanting to claw my skin off again. Oh my god.
I hate mosquitos so bad right now. If I had a mosquito in front of me and I had access to tools of torture, I'd be getting so medieval on it's ass . . . I am feeling very violent right now.
Violent, and wide awake. Goddammit.
The reason I'm awake is that I feel like I want to claw my skin off.
Friday night, the girls and I went to play outside at about 6:30 p.m. Now we live in Wisconsin, where after about 7:30 or so, you can expect to be attacked by mosquitos if you're in the grass or shade or near water.
It wasn't after 7:30 and we were in the driveway, but that didn't seem to make a difference. We were making chalk drawings and we were all being ATTACKED by little swarming mosquitos.
It got so bad that I made the girls stop playing so we could go in. Despite vocal protests from them, I might add.
We went into the house and later, I was reading a couple of books to the girls when suddenly, I also felt like I wanted to claw my skin off.
I can't ever remember feeling that way with mosquito bites. I felt like my ankles (where I have most of my 14 or so bites) were on fire. I rushed maniacally through the rest of the book so I could rush upstairs and get my itch gel. Julia has about 3 bites and Allie has about 5.
I've been exceeding the recommended dosage of itch gel since. Tonight, I went to bed (about 2 hours ago) after putting on a fresh coat, but I guess the movement of my ankles in the sheets prematurely wore off the medicine.
Thus my wanting to claw my skin off again. Oh my god.
I hate mosquitos so bad right now. If I had a mosquito in front of me and I had access to tools of torture, I'd be getting so medieval on it's ass . . . I am feeling very violent right now.
Violent, and wide awake. Goddammit.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
A Testimonial
Who is my husband, Greg Lee, who turns 40 years of age tomorrow? He is all of these and a whole bunch more. He is truly a Renaissance man.
Plays ukulele
Plays guitar
Plays drums
Fixes lawnmowers
Fixes snowblowers
Fixes cars
Computer whiz
Excellent and adventuresome chef
Cleans house
Rides a motorcycle
Writes anything and writes it well
Creative in marketing and business
Does drywall
Does plumbing
Does artistic painting
Does wall/house painting/sanding/spackling
Irons clothes better than I do
Sews better than I do
Cuts our daughters' bangs
Changes diapers
Feeds and burps babies (sometimes at his cost-urp!)
Bathes babies
Cleans up cat and child puke
Plays tennis
Plays backgammon
Killer Monopoly player
Adventurous eater
Rides a bicycle
Drives a stick shift
Electronics savant
Plays keyboards
Fearless hedge trimmer
Connoisseur of pens
TIVO master
Grill master
Excellent fire starter/builder
Travel dreamer
HTML pro
Slip and slide pusher
Tent camper
Cat box cleaner
Cat washer
Cat anal glad expressor (don't ask)
Cat brusher
Goldfish bowl cleaner
Furniture assembler
Carpet spot cleaner
Adept business traveler
Hotel connoisseur
Airport master
U-Haul driver
Pool table mover
Birthday cake baker and decorator
Gift shopper extraordinaire
Nurse
Tile setter
Electrician
Deck builder
Swimmer and diver
Pool maintenance person
Movie maven
Romantic husband
Amazing father
I love him dearly. Happy 40th Birthday on September 14, honey!
Plays ukulele
Plays guitar
Plays drums
Fixes lawnmowers
Fixes snowblowers
Fixes cars
Computer whiz
Excellent and adventuresome chef
Cleans house
Rides a motorcycle
Writes anything and writes it well
Creative in marketing and business
Does drywall
Does plumbing
Does artistic painting
Does wall/house painting/sanding/spackling
Irons clothes better than I do
Sews better than I do
Cuts our daughters' bangs
Changes diapers
Feeds and burps babies (sometimes at his cost-urp!)
Bathes babies
Cleans up cat and child puke
Plays tennis
Plays backgammon
Killer Monopoly player
Adventurous eater
Rides a bicycle
Drives a stick shift
Electronics savant
Plays keyboards
Fearless hedge trimmer
Connoisseur of pens
TIVO master
Grill master
Excellent fire starter/builder
Travel dreamer
HTML pro
Slip and slide pusher
Tent camper
Cat box cleaner
Cat washer
Cat anal glad expressor (don't ask)
Cat brusher
Goldfish bowl cleaner
Furniture assembler
Carpet spot cleaner
Adept business traveler
Hotel connoisseur
Airport master
U-Haul driver
Pool table mover
Birthday cake baker and decorator
Gift shopper extraordinaire
Nurse
Tile setter
Electrician
Deck builder
Swimmer and diver
Pool maintenance person
Movie maven
Romantic husband
Amazing father
I love him dearly. Happy 40th Birthday on September 14, honey!
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Remembering
When the September 11th attacks started, Greg was on an airplane, on his way from Madison, Wisconsin to Denver, Colorado for a trade show.
I was sitting at my desk when a co-worker walked by and said that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. She said they thought it was a small private plane, and beyond a thought of, oh, that's terrible, none of us thought much more about it.
Then someone else came to my department and said another plane had hit the other tower and we all knew.
I went into the conference room, where we have a TV, and tried to get a local channel without the benefit of an antenna or cable TV. We could see snowy footage of the towers burning on every channel.
I went to the internet and looked up Greg's flight information. I checked it repeatedly and it said, "in flight" each time, until finally it said he had landed in Denver.
My mom called, crying, and I told her with confidence that the website said he was on the ground in Denver and that I'd call her as soon as I heard from him.
About an endless hour later, Greg called. He said he was OK and in Lincoln, Nebraska. I said, no, you're not, you're in Denver! He said he was in the airport in Lincoln and that he'd been watching the footage on TVs in an airport bar.
He said the flight seemed normal until the pilot came on the intercom and said they were putting down immediately. The pilot said there wasn't a problem with the plane, but wouldn't say anything else until they were on the ground. Then he told them.
Greg ended up spending three days in Lincoln, taken care of by airline personnel and the Red Cross. He couldn't find a way home. Amtrak doesn't run near Lincoln, all of the rental cars were gone, and there were no flights, obviously.
On the morning of September 14, his birthday, I opened the morning paper and read a story about the airline passengers who were stranded in Madison. They were renting U-Haul trucks and driving them home. Of course, U-Haul does one-way rentals all the time!
I called Greg's hotel room and left a message. I didn't hear back from him until about 9:30, when he called to tell me he was just over the border into Iowa. He drove a 24-foot rental truck from Lincoln to our home, completely empty except for him and his one suitcase in the front.
But he was home. So many others weren't and wouldn't ever be again. We will never forget.
I was sitting at my desk when a co-worker walked by and said that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. She said they thought it was a small private plane, and beyond a thought of, oh, that's terrible, none of us thought much more about it.
Then someone else came to my department and said another plane had hit the other tower and we all knew.
I went into the conference room, where we have a TV, and tried to get a local channel without the benefit of an antenna or cable TV. We could see snowy footage of the towers burning on every channel.
I went to the internet and looked up Greg's flight information. I checked it repeatedly and it said, "in flight" each time, until finally it said he had landed in Denver.
My mom called, crying, and I told her with confidence that the website said he was on the ground in Denver and that I'd call her as soon as I heard from him.
About an endless hour later, Greg called. He said he was OK and in Lincoln, Nebraska. I said, no, you're not, you're in Denver! He said he was in the airport in Lincoln and that he'd been watching the footage on TVs in an airport bar.
He said the flight seemed normal until the pilot came on the intercom and said they were putting down immediately. The pilot said there wasn't a problem with the plane, but wouldn't say anything else until they were on the ground. Then he told them.
Greg ended up spending three days in Lincoln, taken care of by airline personnel and the Red Cross. He couldn't find a way home. Amtrak doesn't run near Lincoln, all of the rental cars were gone, and there were no flights, obviously.
On the morning of September 14, his birthday, I opened the morning paper and read a story about the airline passengers who were stranded in Madison. They were renting U-Haul trucks and driving them home. Of course, U-Haul does one-way rentals all the time!
I called Greg's hotel room and left a message. I didn't hear back from him until about 9:30, when he called to tell me he was just over the border into Iowa. He drove a 24-foot rental truck from Lincoln to our home, completely empty except for him and his one suitcase in the front.
But he was home. So many others weren't and wouldn't ever be again. We will never forget.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Things I Can't Believe I Didn't Eat as a Child That Are Really Good, And Wasn't I Stupid (But I Don't Need You Saying So)
We've been at my parents' this weekend, but we're home now, back to our own bed. Yes, I know that statement means that we're old.
Regardless, here's the list as promoted above, in no particular order:
grilled cheese sandwiches
scrambled eggs
french toast
banana bread
french onion soup
tomato sauce
oatmeal cookies
Italian dressing
stuffing
chicken salad sandwiches (still not crazy about those, but I've eaten them)
canteloupe
pumpkin pie
gravy
salsa
rice
fish in any form, other than fish sticks
spinach leaves in salad
taco meat
mushroom soup
cherries (I still really only like these in pie)
brocolli
alfalfa sprouts
crabmeat stuffed into anything
shrimp
Don't you all pity my poor mother now? What she went through, trying to get me to eat. My husband still puts up with a lot of frustration, trying to cook things that are somewhat interesting to him that I will eat, but I really have come a long way.
For a good number of the above foods, I can distinctly remember when I ate these foods for the first time and liked them. I can also distinctly remember when my mom tried to get me to eat rice for the first time. It was one of those, "you're staying at the table until you eat that spoonful" nights. Never ate the rice, nope, not until I was about 25.
Regardless, here's the list as promoted above, in no particular order:
grilled cheese sandwiches
scrambled eggs
french toast
banana bread
french onion soup
tomato sauce
oatmeal cookies
Italian dressing
stuffing
chicken salad sandwiches (still not crazy about those, but I've eaten them)
canteloupe
pumpkin pie
gravy
salsa
rice
fish in any form, other than fish sticks
spinach leaves in salad
taco meat
mushroom soup
cherries (I still really only like these in pie)
brocolli
alfalfa sprouts
crabmeat stuffed into anything
shrimp
Don't you all pity my poor mother now? What she went through, trying to get me to eat. My husband still puts up with a lot of frustration, trying to cook things that are somewhat interesting to him that I will eat, but I really have come a long way.
For a good number of the above foods, I can distinctly remember when I ate these foods for the first time and liked them. I can also distinctly remember when my mom tried to get me to eat rice for the first time. It was one of those, "you're staying at the table until you eat that spoonful" nights. Never ate the rice, nope, not until I was about 25.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Cleaning up
We have a cleaning lady. We've had three different cleaning ladies, actually, one who stopped showing up, one who wasn't very good so we dumped her, and our current one. I don't like spending money so someone does something we absolutely are capable of doing ourselves, but I love not having to clean.
Peggy is coming tomorrow. That means we've done our normal Tuesday night run around, picking up the entire house for the cleaning lady. I say we, but I really mean me. I run around picking up the entire house while Greg makes fun of me for cleaning before the cleaning lady comes.
I'm of the opinion that it pays to pick up for the cleaning lady, because if she spends less time picking up and moving things, she'll spend more time actually scrubbing (and boy, does our house always need scrubbing).
So I have to go now, because the kitchen counter downstairs is covered with kid art projects, unpaid bills, tomatoes (my garden is going great right now!), pens and markers, snack bags full of cereal, and god only knows what else.
I have to go make yet another "bag of mysteries" and hide all our crap. Tomorrow night, my house will be clean and I will be a little poorer. It's worth every penny.
Peggy is coming tomorrow. That means we've done our normal Tuesday night run around, picking up the entire house for the cleaning lady. I say we, but I really mean me. I run around picking up the entire house while Greg makes fun of me for cleaning before the cleaning lady comes.
I'm of the opinion that it pays to pick up for the cleaning lady, because if she spends less time picking up and moving things, she'll spend more time actually scrubbing (and boy, does our house always need scrubbing).
So I have to go now, because the kitchen counter downstairs is covered with kid art projects, unpaid bills, tomatoes (my garden is going great right now!), pens and markers, snack bags full of cereal, and god only knows what else.
I have to go make yet another "bag of mysteries" and hide all our crap. Tomorrow night, my house will be clean and I will be a little poorer. It's worth every penny.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
The Unbirthday List
Things I am not getting my husband for his 40th birthday in the middle of September, despite the fact that he has asked for most of them:
1. A new motorcycle (the one he bought last year is just fine, in my opinion)
2. A new BMW automobile (I don't have $40,000 lying around, which I think would buy the one he wants)
3. A hooker
4. Rock star status (if he really wants that one, he'll have to work on it himself)
5. Nicer children (he's stuck with the ones we have--I'm not having any more)
6. A convertible (see explanation for #2, above)
7. Cooking lessons with Julia Child (that would be cool, except that she's dead)
I'm probably going to keep adding to this list, up until the actual day. Happy unbirthday, Gregory!
1. A new motorcycle (the one he bought last year is just fine, in my opinion)
2. A new BMW automobile (I don't have $40,000 lying around, which I think would buy the one he wants)
3. A hooker
4. Rock star status (if he really wants that one, he'll have to work on it himself)
5. Nicer children (he's stuck with the ones we have--I'm not having any more)
6. A convertible (see explanation for #2, above)
7. Cooking lessons with Julia Child (that would be cool, except that she's dead)
I'm probably going to keep adding to this list, up until the actual day. Happy unbirthday, Gregory!
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Free for the taking
All I can think about is money.
For the last week and a half, I've been working on calculating annual pay changes for all of the employees of my company, 1300 people.
Manufacturing hourly, office hourly, and salaried are all done separately and with slightly different methods. I've helped a very small amount with this process in the past, but now it's my baby.
I'd love to take the time to automate some of the processes, but this is not going to be the year for that. So I've been crunching numbers and trying variations in the statistics for a week and a half now, with very few breaks to do something else.
I'm pretty close to being finished now, but the company president needs to make a couple of decisions that could cause me to have to start about half the project all over again.
I want this to be over. I want my life back. I want to take a day off work.
Who wants some money? Anyone? I'll just give it away and then I can be finished. Whatta ya say?
For the last week and a half, I've been working on calculating annual pay changes for all of the employees of my company, 1300 people.
Manufacturing hourly, office hourly, and salaried are all done separately and with slightly different methods. I've helped a very small amount with this process in the past, but now it's my baby.
I'd love to take the time to automate some of the processes, but this is not going to be the year for that. So I've been crunching numbers and trying variations in the statistics for a week and a half now, with very few breaks to do something else.
I'm pretty close to being finished now, but the company president needs to make a couple of decisions that could cause me to have to start about half the project all over again.
I want this to be over. I want my life back. I want to take a day off work.
Who wants some money? Anyone? I'll just give it away and then I can be finished. Whatta ya say?
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Haunting pasts
It's amazing what "hijinks" people have hiding in their pasts. I say hijinks, but what I really mean is that recently, someone told me about things they think of as pranks from their youth, and I was completely shocked to hear them.
I was asking this person's opinion about appropriate discipline for a guy in one of our plants who was hot and thirsty. He put money in the soda machine three times and it kept his money each time without dispensing product. He got so angry that he shook the machine and actually hit a timeclock that was on the wall adjacent to the soda machine. The timeclock fell off the wall and broke.
This person I work with, that I very much respect, initally made a joke about how angry the guy had been. We talked about how his actions were at least somewhat understandable, and both of us admitted that we've at least pounded on a vending machine when we could see, for example, that our bag of chips was just barely hanging there when it should have fallen.
I made the point that physically moving a soda machine was a higher level of property abuse. He then admitted that not only had he physically moved a soda machine lots of times in the past when trying to get product, but that he had once stolen a soda machine.
This is the same guy who told me recently that he and a buddy went down to the school bus parking lot one night when he was a kid. They used tape to attach sticks to all of the tire valve stems, so every bus had four or more flat tires by morning.
I already knew that this same guy got angry about 18 years ago with a co-worker at our company. He went over the co-worker and decked him--laid him out on the concrete floor at work.
Nowadays, that type of conduct would get you immediately fired. In fact, I've fired four people for fighting in the last month, including one who did a lesser degree of violence than that. What can I say--it's been hot and maybe everyone's been testy.
Nonetheless, I guess you just never know about people. I've known this person for 9 years and never would have guessed he'd have done any of those things. Well, maybe the bus tire thing, but not the others!
What did you do as a kid?
I was asking this person's opinion about appropriate discipline for a guy in one of our plants who was hot and thirsty. He put money in the soda machine three times and it kept his money each time without dispensing product. He got so angry that he shook the machine and actually hit a timeclock that was on the wall adjacent to the soda machine. The timeclock fell off the wall and broke.
This person I work with, that I very much respect, initally made a joke about how angry the guy had been. We talked about how his actions were at least somewhat understandable, and both of us admitted that we've at least pounded on a vending machine when we could see, for example, that our bag of chips was just barely hanging there when it should have fallen.
I made the point that physically moving a soda machine was a higher level of property abuse. He then admitted that not only had he physically moved a soda machine lots of times in the past when trying to get product, but that he had once stolen a soda machine.
This is the same guy who told me recently that he and a buddy went down to the school bus parking lot one night when he was a kid. They used tape to attach sticks to all of the tire valve stems, so every bus had four or more flat tires by morning.
I already knew that this same guy got angry about 18 years ago with a co-worker at our company. He went over the co-worker and decked him--laid him out on the concrete floor at work.
Nowadays, that type of conduct would get you immediately fired. In fact, I've fired four people for fighting in the last month, including one who did a lesser degree of violence than that. What can I say--it's been hot and maybe everyone's been testy.
Nonetheless, I guess you just never know about people. I've known this person for 9 years and never would have guessed he'd have done any of those things. Well, maybe the bus tire thing, but not the others!
What did you do as a kid?
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Old, old, old--really
I just typed a blog on July 13 about how I was feeling old, but now I really am another year older.
That's such a crock. Day before yesterday, I was 40 years and 364 days old and yesterday I became 41 years old. One whole day older, yet for that, I get another year tacked on. It sucks.
I'm not crazy about being 41. 40 was OK because it was still so close to 39. 41 is inescapably sliding down into the mid-40s.
I don't want to be mid-40s. I feel like about 31 most of the time. Can't I just be 31?
If anyone has an objection to me being 31, speak now or forever hold your peace. I can't imagine that anyone would care if I was 31 instead of 41, so I'm going to find my birthday cake candle, light it again, and make magic happen.
Wish me luck.
That's such a crock. Day before yesterday, I was 40 years and 364 days old and yesterday I became 41 years old. One whole day older, yet for that, I get another year tacked on. It sucks.
I'm not crazy about being 41. 40 was OK because it was still so close to 39. 41 is inescapably sliding down into the mid-40s.
I don't want to be mid-40s. I feel like about 31 most of the time. Can't I just be 31?
If anyone has an objection to me being 31, speak now or forever hold your peace. I can't imagine that anyone would care if I was 31 instead of 41, so I'm going to find my birthday cake candle, light it again, and make magic happen.
Wish me luck.
Monday, August 14, 2006
I've got the munchies now too
What food did we enjoy this past weekend at the Wisconsin State Fair? Well, as bizarre as this may seem, we didn't eat any cheese. How can this be, you may ask. In America's Dairyland? At the state fair? Well, it wasn't for lack of vendor opportunity.
There were numerous varieties of cheese around, including deep fried cheese, cheese on pizza, cheese curds, cheese on burgers, cheese blintzes, cheesecake, etc. And we didn't have any of it.
Instead, we ate corn on the cob, hot dogs, cream puffs, mini milk shakes (for the Got Milk? photo's mustaches), french fries, beignets, and popcorn. Oh my god, what an awful list!
We rushed home and gave our girls multivitamins immediately, I promise you. Oh, not really. But we have vitamins, I promise we do. We'll be stuffing them with at least seven a day for the next week to make up for the fair food.
Umm, what're we gonna do about next weekend? We're going to need more vitamins.
There were numerous varieties of cheese around, including deep fried cheese, cheese on pizza, cheese curds, cheese on burgers, cheese blintzes, cheesecake, etc. And we didn't have any of it.
Instead, we ate corn on the cob, hot dogs, cream puffs, mini milk shakes (for the Got Milk? photo's mustaches), french fries, beignets, and popcorn. Oh my god, what an awful list!
We rushed home and gave our girls multivitamins immediately, I promise you. Oh, not really. But we have vitamins, I promise we do. We'll be stuffing them with at least seven a day for the next week to make up for the fair food.
Umm, what're we gonna do about next weekend? We're going to need more vitamins.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Rules for toast
1. If you are having more than one piece of toast to eat, each piece must be toasted separately, so as to be as hot as possible.
2. You will wait at the toaster for the toast to pop up. In no circumstances should you be further than 6 feet away from the toaster when it's toasting.
3. You will place the first piece toast on a new piece of paper towel for buttering, not on the counter. (This is how I knew Greg was the man for me--he did this even before I told him the rule.)
4. You will not use rock hard butter on the toast. You may use soft (tub) margarine, but the best topping for toast is butter that has been previously softened on the counter.
5. You will use a clean knife for buttering the first piece of toast. If someone has toasted before you and put jelly on their toast with a knife, get a new knife. This is technically in case they come back for another piece, but really, it's because you want a clean knife for your toast.
6. When you have finished evenly buttering your toast, there will not be big clumps of butter or margarine trying vainly to melt. All of the butter will be absorbed into the surface of the toast.
7. You will eat your toast starting with the bottom-most right corner (if you are right handed). I suppose if you are left handed, you may start with the bottom-most left corner, but that is an unusual option and the writer of the rules cannot guarantee satisfactory results.
8. Enjoy!
2. You will wait at the toaster for the toast to pop up. In no circumstances should you be further than 6 feet away from the toaster when it's toasting.
3. You will place the first piece toast on a new piece of paper towel for buttering, not on the counter. (This is how I knew Greg was the man for me--he did this even before I told him the rule.)
4. You will not use rock hard butter on the toast. You may use soft (tub) margarine, but the best topping for toast is butter that has been previously softened on the counter.
5. You will use a clean knife for buttering the first piece of toast. If someone has toasted before you and put jelly on their toast with a knife, get a new knife. This is technically in case they come back for another piece, but really, it's because you want a clean knife for your toast.
6. When you have finished evenly buttering your toast, there will not be big clumps of butter or margarine trying vainly to melt. All of the butter will be absorbed into the surface of the toast.
7. You will eat your toast starting with the bottom-most right corner (if you are right handed). I suppose if you are left handed, you may start with the bottom-most left corner, but that is an unusual option and the writer of the rules cannot guarantee satisfactory results.
8. Enjoy!
Monday, August 07, 2006
Musing on Q
Over the last couple of weeks, I rewatched the "Kill Bill" movies. We own the DVDs. They're strange and funny and gory beyond belief and amazing and weird and awesome.
They remind me of when I first saw "Pulp Fiction," which we also own but which I saw again on cable the other night. Greg and his friend, Dwayne, had gone to see the movie when it first came out and they told me I had to see it too.
We sat in the theater (me in the middle, of course) and I was doing fine with the story until the scene when Bruce Willis and Ving Rhames end up in the basement of the pawn shop.
If you haven't seen it, the store owner and his friend, the cop, are rapists and into S&M. They do einey-meeny-miney-moe to pick one of the guys, who are tied and gagged, then head into the back room and start to rape Ving Rhames.
I remember turning to Greg and whispering, "what the hell is this?"
I didn't do that with the "Kill Bill" movies. I had an idea what to expect and they didn't disappoint. Anyone for a sliced off arm spraying gallons of blood?
I didn't think so. Gotta be in the mood for it.
They remind me of when I first saw "Pulp Fiction," which we also own but which I saw again on cable the other night. Greg and his friend, Dwayne, had gone to see the movie when it first came out and they told me I had to see it too.
We sat in the theater (me in the middle, of course) and I was doing fine with the story until the scene when Bruce Willis and Ving Rhames end up in the basement of the pawn shop.
If you haven't seen it, the store owner and his friend, the cop, are rapists and into S&M. They do einey-meeny-miney-moe to pick one of the guys, who are tied and gagged, then head into the back room and start to rape Ving Rhames.
I remember turning to Greg and whispering, "what the hell is this?"
I didn't do that with the "Kill Bill" movies. I had an idea what to expect and they didn't disappoint. Anyone for a sliced off arm spraying gallons of blood?
I didn't think so. Gotta be in the mood for it.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Update
Today marks the start of getting my life back.
I was promoted at the end of December, starting looking for someone to take over my old job at the end of February, interviewed five or six people, two of them twice, and finally made an offer at the end of June.
My new person started today and I am so looking forward to not doing these tasks again, maybe forever--- Seven months was way, way too long to be doing two jobs, especially considering I was doing a third job for a good part of that time.
The training is going to be a bear, but I don't care, I don't care (said in a singsong happy voice). I am a happy camper tonight.
If he quits, I'm going to go to his house and kill him.
I was promoted at the end of December, starting looking for someone to take over my old job at the end of February, interviewed five or six people, two of them twice, and finally made an offer at the end of June.
My new person started today and I am so looking forward to not doing these tasks again, maybe forever--- Seven months was way, way too long to be doing two jobs, especially considering I was doing a third job for a good part of that time.
The training is going to be a bear, but I don't care, I don't care (said in a singsong happy voice). I am a happy camper tonight.
If he quits, I'm going to go to his house and kill him.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Seminar sitting
I attended a benefits seminar today that was basically 7 hours of technical jargon, including immense numbers of acronyms.
I sat on my butt (or bum, if you're from England) and listened to the speakers more or less intently for seven long hours, interrupted only by lunch. I am so glad I don't have to do this every day.
When I got home, I commented to Greg that I absolutely don't understand how some people can attend an all-day seminar and never ask a single question or make a single comment. I am so not like that.
If I'm learning anything at all, I'm going to have a question or two. Was I (nearly) the only one who didn't already know everything they were talking about? Was I (nearly) the only one who didn't completely understand everything the speakers mentioned just by their PowerPoint slides and lecture?
A few years ago, I attended Berlitz language classes to try to learn Spanish in two and a half weeks. Now that was a lot of sitting! Eight hours a day of struggling to remember things from my one year of high school Spanish and build on them.
The only thing that saved me then was that there were only three of us students, so needless to say, it was pretty obvious when you were daydreaming.
I didn't daydream today, but I'm glad it's back to my normal work tomorrow.
I sat on my butt (or bum, if you're from England) and listened to the speakers more or less intently for seven long hours, interrupted only by lunch. I am so glad I don't have to do this every day.
When I got home, I commented to Greg that I absolutely don't understand how some people can attend an all-day seminar and never ask a single question or make a single comment. I am so not like that.
If I'm learning anything at all, I'm going to have a question or two. Was I (nearly) the only one who didn't already know everything they were talking about? Was I (nearly) the only one who didn't completely understand everything the speakers mentioned just by their PowerPoint slides and lecture?
A few years ago, I attended Berlitz language classes to try to learn Spanish in two and a half weeks. Now that was a lot of sitting! Eight hours a day of struggling to remember things from my one year of high school Spanish and build on them.
The only thing that saved me then was that there were only three of us students, so needless to say, it was pretty obvious when you were daydreaming.
I didn't daydream today, but I'm glad it's back to my normal work tomorrow.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Time's a-passing
It may not seem like many, but I've written exactly 150 posts in almost exactly three years, since I began writing in this blog that Greg made me start.
On my blog entry written on July 26, 2003, I wrote about counting down the last few days before our baby's birth. I also commented that Greg had picked up Allie and they were galloping all over the basement to bluegrass music as I typed. I said, "oh, the energy of a three-year-old."
And now Julia's turning three on Sunday. She's very excited. She's been talking about when her birthday was going to come since Allie had her birthday. I guess she thinks birthdays are a pretty good deal, what with the cake, ice cream, presents, and massive attention.
Our girls were born exactly three-and-a-half years apart, so it's been a long six months for the poor child.
Her party is on Saturday. It'll be the third annual Julia's Birthday Party Water Fight, an Elmo cake, great food cooked by Chef Greg, and a houseful of family who don't visit often enough.
She can't wait. I can't wait. Here's to happy birthdays!
On my blog entry written on July 26, 2003, I wrote about counting down the last few days before our baby's birth. I also commented that Greg had picked up Allie and they were galloping all over the basement to bluegrass music as I typed. I said, "oh, the energy of a three-year-old."
And now Julia's turning three on Sunday. She's very excited. She's been talking about when her birthday was going to come since Allie had her birthday. I guess she thinks birthdays are a pretty good deal, what with the cake, ice cream, presents, and massive attention.
Our girls were born exactly three-and-a-half years apart, so it's been a long six months for the poor child.
Her party is on Saturday. It'll be the third annual Julia's Birthday Party Water Fight, an Elmo cake, great food cooked by Chef Greg, and a houseful of family who don't visit often enough.
She can't wait. I can't wait. Here's to happy birthdays!
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