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!
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Physicians are our friends
As you've probably heard from Greg, we went a little Ikea crazy this weekend. This was after we spent all day inside in air conditioning in Chicago (it was 95 outside) and after we had a lovely night's stay at a very nice suite hotel.
We got home Sunday evening and spent literally 4 hours assembling various pieces of new furniture (in Greg's case, assembling, then disassembling, then assembling again correctly--like the one I put together!). Sorry honey, but you don't make that many mistakes and I have to rub it in when it happens.
I don't even think I walked through tall grass all weekend, let alone brushed against any other plants. It was strictly concrete and carpeting. And we were inside approximately 99 percent of the time. So how did I get some kind of bite or plant reaction on each of my legs?
Nasty bites too--ones that were really itchy at first, then growing, then still growing until the one on my left leg was about six inches across. I talked to the nurse at work and then decided it might be prudent to see a doctor.
Dr. Bluemel was very nice but clueless as to what I actually had on my legs. He said, however, that there was obviously a secondary infection going on now and therefore an antibiotic would be a good idea.
Now it's about 29 hours later and the bites are much better. They both actually got even bigger after I saw the doctor before the pills kicked in and kicked butt. I'm planning on scrubbing off the lines drawn on my legs (used to measure where the swelling was progressing) in the morning.
In the meantime, it looks a little like I have some kind of Target tattoo. I love to shop there, but not that much. I guess I'll just have to continue getting better.
We got home Sunday evening and spent literally 4 hours assembling various pieces of new furniture (in Greg's case, assembling, then disassembling, then assembling again correctly--like the one I put together!). Sorry honey, but you don't make that many mistakes and I have to rub it in when it happens.
I don't even think I walked through tall grass all weekend, let alone brushed against any other plants. It was strictly concrete and carpeting. And we were inside approximately 99 percent of the time. So how did I get some kind of bite or plant reaction on each of my legs?
Nasty bites too--ones that were really itchy at first, then growing, then still growing until the one on my left leg was about six inches across. I talked to the nurse at work and then decided it might be prudent to see a doctor.
Dr. Bluemel was very nice but clueless as to what I actually had on my legs. He said, however, that there was obviously a secondary infection going on now and therefore an antibiotic would be a good idea.
Now it's about 29 hours later and the bites are much better. They both actually got even bigger after I saw the doctor before the pills kicked in and kicked butt. I'm planning on scrubbing off the lines drawn on my legs (used to measure where the swelling was progressing) in the morning.
In the meantime, it looks a little like I have some kind of Target tattoo. I love to shop there, but not that much. I guess I'll just have to continue getting better.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Creaky and old
I can't believe how much I enjoy watching "I Love the (70s, 80s, 90s)" on VH1. It's all so familiar and some of it seems so recent, not twenty years ago or longer.
I turned 40 last year and Greg turns 40 this year. I'm starting to have trouble reading really tiny type on things and I usually turn on a light when I need to do something detailed. I have some gray hair (though not as much as my sisters!). I sometimes feel creaky in the morning when I first get up, for a minute or two--usually my feet or my left knee (if I sat with my leg under me the night before).
I was thinking the other day that when my mom was the age I am now, I was already 15 years old and her oldest was 19 and on her own.
On the other hand, I have a six and a half year old and an almost three year old. I didn't plan it that way, but I think they'll keep me young for a good while yet.
I turned 40 last year and Greg turns 40 this year. I'm starting to have trouble reading really tiny type on things and I usually turn on a light when I need to do something detailed. I have some gray hair (though not as much as my sisters!). I sometimes feel creaky in the morning when I first get up, for a minute or two--usually my feet or my left knee (if I sat with my leg under me the night before).
I was thinking the other day that when my mom was the age I am now, I was already 15 years old and her oldest was 19 and on her own.
On the other hand, I have a six and a half year old and an almost three year old. I didn't plan it that way, but I think they'll keep me young for a good while yet.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Green trees and hugs
The other night, we drove up to Madison for dinner and it was just too nice of an evening to go straight back home (though that same situation landed us in trouble not too long ago--remember the horror of the Asian market!).
With these long summer evenings, we thought we'd have time to go to the nearby zoo, so we headed over there. Unfortunately, the zoo personnel must not share our belief that long summer evenings are a good time to look at animals, so they were closed.
Instead, we headed into the nearby arboretum, which is one of those places that we've read about and always thought would be fun to explore but we'd never actually been in yet despite the fact that we once drove around a good part of it trying to find Monroe Street or somewhere and we've lived here for nearly 9 years now (phew!).
So we drove in and it was kind of magical. Cool green tunnel of trees, water on one side, lots of bikers and joggers, and many, many squirrels. You would certainly never have thought that you were in a place surrounded on all sides by a city of 250,000. We saw more bunnies than you could shake a stick at, lots of birds, and even two sandhill cranes.
We parked and walked around exploring for almost an hour. My favorite memory of the evening--Greg and the girls had wandered away a little bit to explore a willow arbor/hut type of structure. Julia decided that instead of exploring further with them, she was going to head back to me.
And with a wide grin, arms outflung, giggling, she raced back towards me. I squatted down and caught her in a great, big hug. What a treat. Especially since that became a game for the rest of the evening.
She'd walk away, turn around, yell, "Sit down on your legs," wait for me to squat and open my arms, and come running like a madwoman.
I'm saving this stuff up, you know. She already tells me sometimes that she doesn't like me and I'm not looking forward to the first time she says she hates me.
I'll read this blog entry someday when she's 9 or 13 or 16 (or maybe all three) and I'll remember that enormous, joyous hug.
I love you, Julia.
With these long summer evenings, we thought we'd have time to go to the nearby zoo, so we headed over there. Unfortunately, the zoo personnel must not share our belief that long summer evenings are a good time to look at animals, so they were closed.
Instead, we headed into the nearby arboretum, which is one of those places that we've read about and always thought would be fun to explore but we'd never actually been in yet despite the fact that we once drove around a good part of it trying to find Monroe Street or somewhere and we've lived here for nearly 9 years now (phew!).
So we drove in and it was kind of magical. Cool green tunnel of trees, water on one side, lots of bikers and joggers, and many, many squirrels. You would certainly never have thought that you were in a place surrounded on all sides by a city of 250,000. We saw more bunnies than you could shake a stick at, lots of birds, and even two sandhill cranes.
We parked and walked around exploring for almost an hour. My favorite memory of the evening--Greg and the girls had wandered away a little bit to explore a willow arbor/hut type of structure. Julia decided that instead of exploring further with them, she was going to head back to me.
And with a wide grin, arms outflung, giggling, she raced back towards me. I squatted down and caught her in a great, big hug. What a treat. Especially since that became a game for the rest of the evening.
She'd walk away, turn around, yell, "Sit down on your legs," wait for me to squat and open my arms, and come running like a madwoman.
I'm saving this stuff up, you know. She already tells me sometimes that she doesn't like me and I'm not looking forward to the first time she says she hates me.
I'll read this blog entry someday when she's 9 or 13 or 16 (or maybe all three) and I'll remember that enormous, joyous hug.
I love you, Julia.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Naked sliding
I don't know what type of paragraph you were expecting when you read that title, but the naked refers to an almost 3-year-old who refused to wear clothes while on the slip and slide the other day.
The slip and slide is new, you see. I got it out of the box on July 4th and put both girls in t-shirts and shorts to try it out (their swimsuits having been forgotten at daycare that day).
As you can see from the pictures on Greg's blog, Allie was perfectly happy keeping on her outfit while she got wet. Julia, however, is apparently a budding nudist.
Initially, she was OK getting wet wearing her t-shirt-and-shorts "swimsuit." Then she said she was cold, so I bundled her next to me on the blanket while we watched her sister slide, Julia wrapped tightly in a towel.
I thought she'd be more comfortable sitting there without her clingy wet t-shirt, so I helped her out of it, keeping the towel wrapped around her shoulders so she wouldn't get colder.
Almost immediately, she got over her goosebumps and decided she was ready to slide again. Except she decided she didn't need to wear her wet shorts or panties either. She pushed them off and took off towards the slide. I was laughing too hard to insist immediately, and by the time I started to press the issue, she was busy sliding and repeatedly told me, "I OK, I OK."
My daughter, the naturist. I got some cute pictures of her bare backside. I've got big plans for blackmail in about 14 years!
The slip and slide is new, you see. I got it out of the box on July 4th and put both girls in t-shirts and shorts to try it out (their swimsuits having been forgotten at daycare that day).
As you can see from the pictures on Greg's blog, Allie was perfectly happy keeping on her outfit while she got wet. Julia, however, is apparently a budding nudist.
Initially, she was OK getting wet wearing her t-shirt-and-shorts "swimsuit." Then she said she was cold, so I bundled her next to me on the blanket while we watched her sister slide, Julia wrapped tightly in a towel.
I thought she'd be more comfortable sitting there without her clingy wet t-shirt, so I helped her out of it, keeping the towel wrapped around her shoulders so she wouldn't get colder.
Almost immediately, she got over her goosebumps and decided she was ready to slide again. Except she decided she didn't need to wear her wet shorts or panties either. She pushed them off and took off towards the slide. I was laughing too hard to insist immediately, and by the time I started to press the issue, she was busy sliding and repeatedly told me, "I OK, I OK."
My daughter, the naturist. I got some cute pictures of her bare backside. I've got big plans for blackmail in about 14 years!
Monday, July 03, 2006
Showers ending early
It was pretty warm here today but the evening was nice, so the girls and I went out on the deck to read books.
We've had some nearby severe weather lately, but the worst has gone to the north and south of us. As a result, it hasn't rained much for awhile. I decided we should water my mini-garden.
My garden has three daylilies, two chewed down the nubs by rabbits and one glorious (183 blossoms this year despite no real care), some habernero peppers that don't seem to be growing (planted for my husband who loves hot food), a bunch of orange pansies (not that you would know they were orange because the aforementioned bunnies have eaten every last flower), a few marigolds (thank god bunnies don't like marigolds), and some tomato plants, which actually seem to be doing well and some of which have little green Roma tomatoes on them.
Naturally, both Allie and Julia wanted to hold the nozzle of the hose, which naturally drips. I cautioned them once to be careful of their clothes and then gave up, since it was within a half hour of bedtime (and pajamas) anyway.
Five minutes later, Allie asked if she could run through the shower of spray, and five minutes after that, they were both completely drenched, shrieking in joy, and giggling helplessly. And that water was cold!
Daddy was nice enough to get towels and both girls went to bed with damp, towel-dried hair. Actually, Allie just went to bed five minutes ago because she begged Daddy to catch fireflies tonight.
And who knows when she'll be able to get to sleep. It's the night before Independence Day (yes, from those long-ago nasty British, but we like them now!) and everyone is showing off their fireworks. Snap, crackle, pop, and boom!
Happy Fourth of July, a little early.
We've had some nearby severe weather lately, but the worst has gone to the north and south of us. As a result, it hasn't rained much for awhile. I decided we should water my mini-garden.
My garden has three daylilies, two chewed down the nubs by rabbits and one glorious (183 blossoms this year despite no real care), some habernero peppers that don't seem to be growing (planted for my husband who loves hot food), a bunch of orange pansies (not that you would know they were orange because the aforementioned bunnies have eaten every last flower), a few marigolds (thank god bunnies don't like marigolds), and some tomato plants, which actually seem to be doing well and some of which have little green Roma tomatoes on them.
Naturally, both Allie and Julia wanted to hold the nozzle of the hose, which naturally drips. I cautioned them once to be careful of their clothes and then gave up, since it was within a half hour of bedtime (and pajamas) anyway.
Five minutes later, Allie asked if she could run through the shower of spray, and five minutes after that, they were both completely drenched, shrieking in joy, and giggling helplessly. And that water was cold!
Daddy was nice enough to get towels and both girls went to bed with damp, towel-dried hair. Actually, Allie just went to bed five minutes ago because she begged Daddy to catch fireflies tonight.
And who knows when she'll be able to get to sleep. It's the night before Independence Day (yes, from those long-ago nasty British, but we like them now!) and everyone is showing off their fireworks. Snap, crackle, pop, and boom!
Happy Fourth of July, a little early.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Feline friends
I've always loved cats. When I was a kid, my sisters and I brought home two cats (sequentially), but they were mostly my mom's pets. One died in the street in front of our house while I was in first grade. The other died at home while I was away at college. My parents haven't had another cat since.
After I had moved out on my own for a few years, I moved to a new apartment just so I could get a cat. I had Butterscotch for twelve years, until he became very ill with liver cancer and we had him put to sleep. His ashes are in a small urn on our fireplace mantel. They've been there for four years now.
We were going to bury the ashes in the yard, but somehow we've never done it. I don't hold the urn and remember him or anything, but I kind of like having them near.
Now today my sister called to say that her ten-year-old cat, Reebok, has been diagnosed with kidney failure. I've been searching websites for information, trying to find out what therapies are available and if kitty dialysis is even a possibility.
Our current cat, Pig, has diabetes. I wrote about her awhile back. Other than giving her prescription cat food and the fact that she pees a LOT, she's been stable for more than a year without further treatment.
When she was diagnosed, I also did research on the web. There is alot of information available. There are also lots of stories of the ups and downs some people have gone through as they fight to keep their cats alive through various illnesses.
And there are memorial pages with stories of how cats have changed the lives of people forever.
Reebok is a wonderful cat. I wish strength for my sister and her husband as they make the difficult choices that lie ahead.
After I had moved out on my own for a few years, I moved to a new apartment just so I could get a cat. I had Butterscotch for twelve years, until he became very ill with liver cancer and we had him put to sleep. His ashes are in a small urn on our fireplace mantel. They've been there for four years now.
We were going to bury the ashes in the yard, but somehow we've never done it. I don't hold the urn and remember him or anything, but I kind of like having them near.
Now today my sister called to say that her ten-year-old cat, Reebok, has been diagnosed with kidney failure. I've been searching websites for information, trying to find out what therapies are available and if kitty dialysis is even a possibility.
Our current cat, Pig, has diabetes. I wrote about her awhile back. Other than giving her prescription cat food and the fact that she pees a LOT, she's been stable for more than a year without further treatment.
When she was diagnosed, I also did research on the web. There is alot of information available. There are also lots of stories of the ups and downs some people have gone through as they fight to keep their cats alive through various illnesses.
And there are memorial pages with stories of how cats have changed the lives of people forever.
Reebok is a wonderful cat. I wish strength for my sister and her husband as they make the difficult choices that lie ahead.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Stupid people everywhere
I'm still around.
The guy I fired the other day called my voice mail this morning and said he got his termination letter. He said he was going to mail in his I.D. badge and that he'd be expecting a check for the vacation he has coming. He sounded perfectly rational. Let's hope he stays that way!
In the meantime, I'm going to be disciplining three people tomorrow who thought it would be funny to pour rubbing alcohol on part of their workstation and light it on fire--twice.
I don't even know what to comment on that.
The guy I fired the other day called my voice mail this morning and said he got his termination letter. He said he was going to mail in his I.D. badge and that he'd be expecting a check for the vacation he has coming. He sounded perfectly rational. Let's hope he stays that way!
In the meantime, I'm going to be disciplining three people tomorrow who thought it would be funny to pour rubbing alcohol on part of their workstation and light it on fire--twice.
I don't even know what to comment on that.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
One last message
It's come to this. Greg and I are in our bedroom, it's almost 10 p.m., and he's on our bedroom computer looking at the internet while I'm on another computer blogging. We're not talking, we're not even looking at each other or saying spousely things like, "honey, look at this wild website."
We're clicking and mousing and almost completely ignoring each other. Such progress these modern times have brought.
And whose fault is it, you may say? Yup. I know.
On another note, I decided I'd better blog tonight because I wrote a termination letter today to a guy who's kind of unstable. He's going to get it tomorrow and since he lives in town, he might just decide to come down to the plant and kill that not-so-nice human resources lady who fired him.
I knew that I should make an effort to blog one last time, so see! I'm ignoring my husband for a good reason.
In all seriousness, I'm a little concerned about what this guy might do tomorrow and in the future. I told him flat out in the letter that if he shows up on our premises, we're calling the police.
I'm sincerely hoping that won't be necessary. And if I die (dramatic pause, with hand held to forehead in oh-so-classic overacting style), it was nice knowing you all!
We're clicking and mousing and almost completely ignoring each other. Such progress these modern times have brought.
And whose fault is it, you may say? Yup. I know.
On another note, I decided I'd better blog tonight because I wrote a termination letter today to a guy who's kind of unstable. He's going to get it tomorrow and since he lives in town, he might just decide to come down to the plant and kill that not-so-nice human resources lady who fired him.
I knew that I should make an effort to blog one last time, so see! I'm ignoring my husband for a good reason.
In all seriousness, I'm a little concerned about what this guy might do tomorrow and in the future. I told him flat out in the letter that if he shows up on our premises, we're calling the police.
I'm sincerely hoping that won't be necessary. And if I die (dramatic pause, with hand held to forehead in oh-so-classic overacting style), it was nice knowing you all!
Monday, June 12, 2006
Still alive
Well, my mom didn't call today to check on us, but we're all still alive.
Greg is coming home shortly. He may have to travel again at the end of this month, though, and that would suck.
Allie's still breaking out in near tears every now and then. The two of us were talking about this weekend, however, when her aunties and grandparents are coming to visit and I didn't realize it, but Julia was listening and storing things away.
She's woken up the past two mornings and her first words, after, "Morning, Mommy," have been, "Is Gamma here?" I keep telling her, soon, honey, soon!
Greg is coming home shortly. He may have to travel again at the end of this month, though, and that would suck.
Allie's still breaking out in near tears every now and then. The two of us were talking about this weekend, however, when her aunties and grandparents are coming to visit and I didn't realize it, but Julia was listening and storing things away.
She's woken up the past two mornings and her first words, after, "Morning, Mommy," have been, "Is Gamma here?" I keep telling her, soon, honey, soon!
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Gotta take my vitamins
Yes, we're all still alive. It doesn't escape my notice that my mom always calls at least once per day when I'm home alone with the girls and Greg's traveling. It's always nice to talk to her, but I don't worry (and neither should she) anymore about me keeling over from a stroke or something and Allie and Julia having to survive on ketchup and mustard for three or four days.
There was a blurb in the newspaper not that long ago about a three-year-old with that exact situation. Her mom died of some kind of chronic condition and they found the little girl sitting by her mom's body. She was covered with ketchup and mustard, which was all she'd found to eat. They also found a wet washcloth, so she'd tried to wash her mom's face to wake her up.
She was only a little dehydrated, so she must have been able to reach the sink pretty well. See, this is why we have stepstools at every sink in our house! Someday, we'll put them away, and I'll still lean in from far away like they're still there because they've been in place for so long.
Nonetheless, Allie is almost 6 1/2 now. She knows perfectly well how to unlock the door and head to the neighbors if something's wrong. However, I can pretty much guarantee she'd leave the door wide open and the cat would get out. I guess I'd better stay healthy.
There was a blurb in the newspaper not that long ago about a three-year-old with that exact situation. Her mom died of some kind of chronic condition and they found the little girl sitting by her mom's body. She was covered with ketchup and mustard, which was all she'd found to eat. They also found a wet washcloth, so she'd tried to wash her mom's face to wake her up.
She was only a little dehydrated, so she must have been able to reach the sink pretty well. See, this is why we have stepstools at every sink in our house! Someday, we'll put them away, and I'll still lean in from far away like they're still there because they've been in place for so long.
Nonetheless, Allie is almost 6 1/2 now. She knows perfectly well how to unlock the door and head to the neighbors if something's wrong. However, I can pretty much guarantee she'd leave the door wide open and the cat would get out. I guess I'd better stay healthy.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Random updates
Allie's last day of kindergarten is tomorrow. She hasn't cried yet at home, but I'm sure we're going to see tears tomorrow night. Fortunately, her kindergarten teacher lives less than a block from our daycare, where Allie will be spending the summer days, so she should see her at least occasionally.
I just re-read my post from last September 17, when she had just started school. If I knew how to add a link to it, I would.
Last year in August, I posted the story of Betsy and Chris, who lost their beautiful brick house in our local tornado. She didn't know it, but Betsy was about two weeks pregnant when the tornado came. To give the update on them, they had their third child and first boy on May 9, about two weeks after they moved into their rebuilt house.
I went for a short drive last night and passed by their house. They were outside, working on teaching Maddie, the oldest, how to ride her bike without training wheels. Betsy said they've gotten their pool filled and gotten the mechanicals to work, just in time for hot weather.
They're looking forward to doing something about landscaping soon, pretty much the last step in the rebuild, so they can be done with builder decisions and get back to the rest of their lives.
I understand it took very little time for them to move back in, since they only have new furniture and clothing. The ironic part is that ten minutes after I left them, the tornado sirens went off.
It was a tornado warning for a storm cell that was in the northern part of our county (we live in the far southeast corner of the county). A weak tornado touched down several times, tipped over some semis on the freeway, took a roof off one house, shredded some trees. There but for the grace of God . . .
The tornado last August went through one mile north of our house.
On another subject, I'm doing OK with my new job. I like what I do, but I'm still doing most of my old job because I haven't found the right person with the right mix of skills to take that stuff over. I'm not looking to directly replace myself, by the way. I want someone who's stronger in several areas than I was, but at this point, I'm going to settle for the kind-of-right person so I can get my life back.
We took our tan Mazda sedan in to a new mechanic yesterday--second time it's been in for an issue with engine hesitation that mechanics can't seem to find, let alone fix. Greg wants to get the car repaired so he can sell it and buy another one. He's not going to be able to sell it at this rate! Very frustrating.
I've written several times in the past about Julia's verbal skills. She's doing really well now. She named her first stuffed animal, her bear from Build-A-Bear Workshop, without calling it what it is (i.e. Dolly for a dolly, Kitty for a kitty). Julia's bear that Allie named Carol (that's a story in itself, ask my husband) is now named Jane.
Julia uses long phrases now and she's beginning to tell herself elaborate stories when she's bored, just like Allie has been doing for years. It can get a little loud in the car on long trips. Fortunately for my aching heart that isn't ready to have her be done being a little girl, she still says things like "no no" for window and "poo der" for computer.
Allie used to have a bunch of those, including "pas getti" for spaghetti. The only one I still hear her say regularly is "cah ler pitter" for caterpillar.
And now tomorrow she'll be done with kindergarten. I know that before long, she's going to be driving.
I just re-read my post from last September 17, when she had just started school. If I knew how to add a link to it, I would.
Last year in August, I posted the story of Betsy and Chris, who lost their beautiful brick house in our local tornado. She didn't know it, but Betsy was about two weeks pregnant when the tornado came. To give the update on them, they had their third child and first boy on May 9, about two weeks after they moved into their rebuilt house.
I went for a short drive last night and passed by their house. They were outside, working on teaching Maddie, the oldest, how to ride her bike without training wheels. Betsy said they've gotten their pool filled and gotten the mechanicals to work, just in time for hot weather.
They're looking forward to doing something about landscaping soon, pretty much the last step in the rebuild, so they can be done with builder decisions and get back to the rest of their lives.
I understand it took very little time for them to move back in, since they only have new furniture and clothing. The ironic part is that ten minutes after I left them, the tornado sirens went off.
It was a tornado warning for a storm cell that was in the northern part of our county (we live in the far southeast corner of the county). A weak tornado touched down several times, tipped over some semis on the freeway, took a roof off one house, shredded some trees. There but for the grace of God . . .
The tornado last August went through one mile north of our house.
On another subject, I'm doing OK with my new job. I like what I do, but I'm still doing most of my old job because I haven't found the right person with the right mix of skills to take that stuff over. I'm not looking to directly replace myself, by the way. I want someone who's stronger in several areas than I was, but at this point, I'm going to settle for the kind-of-right person so I can get my life back.
We took our tan Mazda sedan in to a new mechanic yesterday--second time it's been in for an issue with engine hesitation that mechanics can't seem to find, let alone fix. Greg wants to get the car repaired so he can sell it and buy another one. He's not going to be able to sell it at this rate! Very frustrating.
I've written several times in the past about Julia's verbal skills. She's doing really well now. She named her first stuffed animal, her bear from Build-A-Bear Workshop, without calling it what it is (i.e. Dolly for a dolly, Kitty for a kitty). Julia's bear that Allie named Carol (that's a story in itself, ask my husband) is now named Jane.
Julia uses long phrases now and she's beginning to tell herself elaborate stories when she's bored, just like Allie has been doing for years. It can get a little loud in the car on long trips. Fortunately for my aching heart that isn't ready to have her be done being a little girl, she still says things like "no no" for window and "poo der" for computer.
Allie used to have a bunch of those, including "pas getti" for spaghetti. The only one I still hear her say regularly is "cah ler pitter" for caterpillar.
And now tomorrow she'll be done with kindergarten. I know that before long, she's going to be driving.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
The horror, the horror!
Friday night, I was hungry for barbecue, so we headed out to the local franchise of Famous Dave's. We had a mixed results dinner, mixed because my food was really good and the girls were happy, but Greg had a sausage as part of his platter that was actually cold, not just not hot.
We never feel like just heading home to the suburbs after eating, so Greg suggested going to the Asian market down the street to pick up some more of a sauce that he likes. I thought it would be an interesting excursion--you always hear about the exotic (to American eyes) vegetables and fruits these markets carry, plus the interesting variety of canned goods, and I lead a very sheltered life, so I was happy to concur.
The market, which a sign said was affiliated with IGA, was bustling. We found a parking space and walked in. I have the normal expectations for a grocery store--clean, well-lighted, wide selection, good service, good prices. Well----
The store was well-lighted. It had a wide selection of interesting food items. There was good service (we initially had a problem finding the sauce Greg wanted and we were asked at least twice if we needed any help). The prices seemed in line.
It was not clean. Oh my god. Oh my god. The first thing we encountered was a god-awful smell of garbage from somewhere right by the entrance. Julia was walking and immediately said, "I smell something." Yup, we sure did.
Right inside the entrance were stacks and stacks of rice in 50 lb. bags, which Allie was curious about, since they don't have those at our local grocery. They appeared to be sitting right on the not-too-clean floor. Did I mention that there were bugs flying around us initially?
We proceeded to the sauce aisle. The whole store was very busy, so I picked up Julia to keep her out of people's way (and, I confess, so she wouldn't touch anything). Now I'm not one of those moms who carries sanitizing handi-wipes everywhere in case my kids get their hands dirty. After all, just three weeks ago, we spilled popcorn on the sidewalk and Julia got down there and ate some before we could stop her. But this was different.
Greg found his sauce and we explored a little bit. After all, as far as I was concerned, I wasn't ever coming back to the place. There were interesting fruits and vegetables, but then we hit the oh-my-god jackpot.
On the floor next to the fish counter (which had prominent but stained and tattered signs saying that only store personnel were allowed to put their hands into the seriously-needing-a-cleaning-or-maybe-they-should-just-throw-them-out-and-start-over fish case), was a cardboard box.
The box contained blue crab. Greg says they were alive, I don't know because I didn't want to look that closely I was busy holding my nose (not literally, but not because I didn't want to). Two people were using a pair of tongs to sort through them, and the smell was enormous.
I did notice that the box said it was leakproof, but someone's going to need to speak to the manufacturers about a warranty issue, because a stream of green god-knows-what liquid streamed across the aisle from the bottom of the box.
It smelled so bad. Greg (and unfortunately Allie) have very well developed senses of smell. I think Allie was literally holding her nose and Greg was retching in the frozen food aisle.
We quickly exited the premises with Greg's sauce and some glass noodles. Greg is going to have to find a new supplier for his sauce. This place needs to be burned down. You know, purifying flame?
I'll be at home 20 miles or so away, holding my nose.
We never feel like just heading home to the suburbs after eating, so Greg suggested going to the Asian market down the street to pick up some more of a sauce that he likes. I thought it would be an interesting excursion--you always hear about the exotic (to American eyes) vegetables and fruits these markets carry, plus the interesting variety of canned goods, and I lead a very sheltered life, so I was happy to concur.
The market, which a sign said was affiliated with IGA, was bustling. We found a parking space and walked in. I have the normal expectations for a grocery store--clean, well-lighted, wide selection, good service, good prices. Well----
The store was well-lighted. It had a wide selection of interesting food items. There was good service (we initially had a problem finding the sauce Greg wanted and we were asked at least twice if we needed any help). The prices seemed in line.
It was not clean. Oh my god. Oh my god. The first thing we encountered was a god-awful smell of garbage from somewhere right by the entrance. Julia was walking and immediately said, "I smell something." Yup, we sure did.
Right inside the entrance were stacks and stacks of rice in 50 lb. bags, which Allie was curious about, since they don't have those at our local grocery. They appeared to be sitting right on the not-too-clean floor. Did I mention that there were bugs flying around us initially?
We proceeded to the sauce aisle. The whole store was very busy, so I picked up Julia to keep her out of people's way (and, I confess, so she wouldn't touch anything). Now I'm not one of those moms who carries sanitizing handi-wipes everywhere in case my kids get their hands dirty. After all, just three weeks ago, we spilled popcorn on the sidewalk and Julia got down there and ate some before we could stop her. But this was different.
Greg found his sauce and we explored a little bit. After all, as far as I was concerned, I wasn't ever coming back to the place. There were interesting fruits and vegetables, but then we hit the oh-my-god jackpot.
On the floor next to the fish counter (which had prominent but stained and tattered signs saying that only store personnel were allowed to put their hands into the seriously-needing-a-cleaning-or-maybe-they-should-just-throw-them-out-and-start-over fish case), was a cardboard box.
The box contained blue crab. Greg says they were alive, I don't know because I didn't want to look that closely I was busy holding my nose (not literally, but not because I didn't want to). Two people were using a pair of tongs to sort through them, and the smell was enormous.
I did notice that the box said it was leakproof, but someone's going to need to speak to the manufacturers about a warranty issue, because a stream of green god-knows-what liquid streamed across the aisle from the bottom of the box.
It smelled so bad. Greg (and unfortunately Allie) have very well developed senses of smell. I think Allie was literally holding her nose and Greg was retching in the frozen food aisle.
We quickly exited the premises with Greg's sauce and some glass noodles. Greg is going to have to find a new supplier for his sauce. This place needs to be burned down. You know, purifying flame?
I'll be at home 20 miles or so away, holding my nose.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Memorial Day weekend
I spent two and a half hours yesterday going through kids clothes and sorting out what we're going to keep, what we're going to give to St. Vinnie's, and what we're going to store, either until fall (if the girls still fit into them) or until Julia grows. She's such a little peanut; she still fits into some 18-month clothes (a little short on the legs but they still pretty much fit) even though she'll be 3 at the end of July.Nothing like Allie, who wore her 0-3 month clothes for about 2 weeks before moving on to larger sizes. Nonetheless, I dug through the stored accumulation of Allie's old clothing and Julia now has a huge summer wardrobe and St. Vinnie's is getting five bags of baby clothes, blankets, and potty-training pants that we never used because once both of our children decided they were potty-training, they were trained.
I found out that we have an immense supply of old diapers, pull-ups and so on. Included in this is an entire unopened pack of size 4 diapers left over from almost 4 years ago that we never used for Allie. And Julia never got beyond a size 3 diaper before she decided she wasn't wearing diapers any more. I'm thinking we'll give them to the local food pantry, who like to have personal and baby items on hand as well as food.
I am so glad, in retrospect, that we had two girls. We went shopping earlier in the month for a complete new summer wardrobe for Allie since she's grown out of the stuff she wore last year. I can't imagine doing that for two kids if we'd had a boy. We don't have any friends who had their kids at the right time for us to get hand-me-downs.
Greg just came out of the shower and he's singing a song with the lyrics, "Oh, I'm so glad I'm me, don't you like what you see," as he wiggles his butt.
This is my life!
Sunday, May 14, 2006
I'm stuffed, is it Thanksgiving?
We had a lovely, quiet, food-filled Mother's Day in the Lee household today. My husband made wonderful french toast, ham, and home fries for me this morning (on a tray in bed, thank you very much).
I was so full that I didn't even eat lunch.
Then for dinner tonight, Greg worked for several hours on a truly kick-ass french onion soup. I went to the grocery store with Allie this afternoon and bought a rather slender piece of guyere cheese from Switzerland for $7.53.
Wouldn't you think that Wisconsin, dairy capital of the U.S., would have a dairy making guyere somewhere? Well, if there is, our local grocery store doesn't carry it. I don't know, is there a guyere thing like there's a parmesiana reggiano thing? Limited dairies?
Regardless, we ate big bowls of soup topped with Italian bread and freshly shredded guyere and it was amazing. Dave, you have competition in the soup category! And Greg says he has a new favorite cheese.
Mmmmmm. Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there!
I was so full that I didn't even eat lunch.
Then for dinner tonight, Greg worked for several hours on a truly kick-ass french onion soup. I went to the grocery store with Allie this afternoon and bought a rather slender piece of guyere cheese from Switzerland for $7.53.
Wouldn't you think that Wisconsin, dairy capital of the U.S., would have a dairy making guyere somewhere? Well, if there is, our local grocery store doesn't carry it. I don't know, is there a guyere thing like there's a parmesiana reggiano thing? Limited dairies?
Regardless, we ate big bowls of soup topped with Italian bread and freshly shredded guyere and it was amazing. Dave, you have competition in the soup category! And Greg says he has a new favorite cheese.
Mmmmmm. Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there!
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
The green, green grass of home
Who invented lawns, I wonder. I mean, what's the point of having a lawn and having to mow it and mow it and mow it again. Every three days or so, realistically. That's a lot of work.
Just so you can have green stuff around your house during the summer. Hmm. That's assuming, of course, that you're willing to water it in August, when it would naturally go dormant if people didn't putz with it.
Greg cut our grass tonight (yes, I do it too) and because it's been raining a lot lately, the grass had actually already gone to seed.
It's like a lush, needy carpet. Anyone for ground cover and prairie grasses instead? I could go for burning it off once per year instead!
Just so you can have green stuff around your house during the summer. Hmm. That's assuming, of course, that you're willing to water it in August, when it would naturally go dormant if people didn't putz with it.
Greg cut our grass tonight (yes, I do it too) and because it's been raining a lot lately, the grass had actually already gone to seed.
It's like a lush, needy carpet. Anyone for ground cover and prairie grasses instead? I could go for burning it off once per year instead!
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Zeeba neighba
My favorite comic strip of all time is probably Calvin and Hobbes, but the creator stopped drawing it a few years ago and it'll probably never be back.
When I was in high school and college, my favorite comic strip was Garfield. They're still drawing that, but it's just not that funny anymore. Or my taste has grown up, who knows.
My favorite current comic strip is Get Fuzzy. Next is probably Pearls Before Swine, but only when they do strips with these idiotic crocodiles that live next door to a main character, a zebra.
They're always plotting to eat the zebra, but they're really, really stupid. And funny. And they talk like the title above.
You can check it out by following the link off our main page for My Shameful Secret. Enjoy!
When I was in high school and college, my favorite comic strip was Garfield. They're still drawing that, but it's just not that funny anymore. Or my taste has grown up, who knows.
My favorite current comic strip is Get Fuzzy. Next is probably Pearls Before Swine, but only when they do strips with these idiotic crocodiles that live next door to a main character, a zebra.
They're always plotting to eat the zebra, but they're really, really stupid. And funny. And they talk like the title above.
You can check it out by following the link off our main page for My Shameful Secret. Enjoy!
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Awful children and Willy Wonka
One of those fix-your-family, super-nanny shows was recruiting families for future shows in our area this week. The newspaper reported on where they'd be available for interviews and said that part of the application process was to answer the question, "What's the worst thing your kids have done in the last week?"
Okay, I know I'm completely tempting fate here (and Greg would tell me frantically not to say it because he's pretty superstitious), but I can't think of anything that awful that my kids do. I know, give them time. They're only 6 and 2 3/4, so the major fights are obviously still in our future, but I've spent a little bit of time watching those shows and there are plenty of families with kids that age that are having a terrible time of it.
Kids who scream everything they say and kids who hit while obviously trying to hurt and kids who are god awful in public and kids that are so obviously out of control that you wonder what happened. Were the parents completely out to lunch the first few years or is there some weird kind of genetic mutation out there? You know, exactly the kind of families who got their comeuppance in "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."
The worst things my kids have done in the last week, let me see: Not sharing things (that's a biggie), pushing each other (but not pushing each other down or anything), hitting mommy (that earns a timeout but a 2-yr-old obviously doesn't do much physical damage), yelling at each other, complaining about being bored (that would be the 6-yr-old), chewing with their mouths open, wanting to wear pajamas all day, and not eating dinner.
The best things my kids have done in the last week: hugging each other, sharing sometimes, giggling together, not using bad words even though they hear Daddy say them, putting up with having their faces washed and sunscreen put on, being excited just for going outside, saying please, thank you, and excuse me, changing clothes without complaint, playing together nicely in the bathtub, helping each other, going to bed without complaint even though it's still light outside, sleeping peacefully through the night, being potty-trained, being nice to the cat, eating fruit instead of asking for candy all the time, doing well in school and at daycare, and sleeping on the weekend at least until 7 a.m.
I love my kids. No super nannies needed right now, thank you.
Okay, I know I'm completely tempting fate here (and Greg would tell me frantically not to say it because he's pretty superstitious), but I can't think of anything that awful that my kids do. I know, give them time. They're only 6 and 2 3/4, so the major fights are obviously still in our future, but I've spent a little bit of time watching those shows and there are plenty of families with kids that age that are having a terrible time of it.
Kids who scream everything they say and kids who hit while obviously trying to hurt and kids who are god awful in public and kids that are so obviously out of control that you wonder what happened. Were the parents completely out to lunch the first few years or is there some weird kind of genetic mutation out there? You know, exactly the kind of families who got their comeuppance in "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."
The worst things my kids have done in the last week, let me see: Not sharing things (that's a biggie), pushing each other (but not pushing each other down or anything), hitting mommy (that earns a timeout but a 2-yr-old obviously doesn't do much physical damage), yelling at each other, complaining about being bored (that would be the 6-yr-old), chewing with their mouths open, wanting to wear pajamas all day, and not eating dinner.
The best things my kids have done in the last week: hugging each other, sharing sometimes, giggling together, not using bad words even though they hear Daddy say them, putting up with having their faces washed and sunscreen put on, being excited just for going outside, saying please, thank you, and excuse me, changing clothes without complaint, playing together nicely in the bathtub, helping each other, going to bed without complaint even though it's still light outside, sleeping peacefully through the night, being potty-trained, being nice to the cat, eating fruit instead of asking for candy all the time, doing well in school and at daycare, and sleeping on the weekend at least until 7 a.m.
I love my kids. No super nannies needed right now, thank you.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Peter Pan is sad!
I pulled out my work laptop tonight to review some work stuff and now I'm just blogging while sitting with my feet up in the living room. My husband would use this opportunity to proclaim the superiority of wireless networks . . .
"Forrest Gump" is on TBS and I'm half watching it. I don't know why, I've seen it a bunch of times, plus we own the movie and I could go downstairs and get the tape and I wouldn't have to put up with commercials.
Right now, Jenny is teaching Forrest how to dance.
I'm definitely not watching to the end. I always, always cry when Jenny dies, or at least I tear up.
I'm a sucker for sad moments in movies. The king of all examples of that, however, is from back when I was pregnant with Allie. Greg and I were in the living room and he was flipping through the channels. He decided to pause on a retelling of "Peter Pan."
We literally watched it for about a minute and a half, and they showed a montage of Peter coming to the window of Wendy's room to visit her over the years, each time with Peter the same and Wendy growing older.
And I started to cry. Greg looked over in astonishment at my brimming eyes and said, "What!?"
And all I could blubber back was, "Wendy got old!"
Hormones, I swear!
"Forrest Gump" is on TBS and I'm half watching it. I don't know why, I've seen it a bunch of times, plus we own the movie and I could go downstairs and get the tape and I wouldn't have to put up with commercials.
Right now, Jenny is teaching Forrest how to dance.
I'm definitely not watching to the end. I always, always cry when Jenny dies, or at least I tear up.
I'm a sucker for sad moments in movies. The king of all examples of that, however, is from back when I was pregnant with Allie. Greg and I were in the living room and he was flipping through the channels. He decided to pause on a retelling of "Peter Pan."
We literally watched it for about a minute and a half, and they showed a montage of Peter coming to the window of Wendy's room to visit her over the years, each time with Peter the same and Wendy growing older.
And I started to cry. Greg looked over in astonishment at my brimming eyes and said, "What!?"
And all I could blubber back was, "Wendy got old!"
Hormones, I swear!
Monday, April 24, 2006
Car Counting
We visited the in-laws in Illinois this past weekend, for the first time in a disgustingly long while. It was a very nice visit, though too short. Greg and Dave opened the pool, and by the next time we visit, the girls will be able to go swimming.
It was a lot of work, and all I did was watch. When we left in the morning to visit Greg's Grandma Gertie, the cover was still on and it was covered with incredibly nasty green, slimy water. By midafternoon, the lovely blue water of the pool beneath was visible, with just an occasional dead baby mole or shrew or something floating here or there. And worms, lots of dead worms.
Really, it looked lovely! You just had to pretend not to see the floaters (or the stuff on the bottom) and think about how wonderful it will be to slip into it in another month or so. After it's dosed with lots and lots of chemicals. Nice, cleaning, purifying chemicals. I like chemicals. At least in this context, I do.
The girls had a wonderful time on the visit, except for the nine hours or so strapped in their carseats to get there and back. While we were driving back on Sunday afternoon, we played games that I played with my sisters on car rides as a kid. One involves everyone picking a color of car and then seeing who gets to 20 cars of that color first.
It was a lot easier 30 years ago on a two-lane highway. Allie liked it, but she had to rely on me and Greg to tell her what some of the car colors were across the interstate. Fortunately, central and north central Illinois is flatter than a pancake and boring as hell to drive, so I didn't endanger us all too much.
I'm glad we weren't playing "Punch Bug."
It was a lot of work, and all I did was watch. When we left in the morning to visit Greg's Grandma Gertie, the cover was still on and it was covered with incredibly nasty green, slimy water. By midafternoon, the lovely blue water of the pool beneath was visible, with just an occasional dead baby mole or shrew or something floating here or there. And worms, lots of dead worms.
Really, it looked lovely! You just had to pretend not to see the floaters (or the stuff on the bottom) and think about how wonderful it will be to slip into it in another month or so. After it's dosed with lots and lots of chemicals. Nice, cleaning, purifying chemicals. I like chemicals. At least in this context, I do.
The girls had a wonderful time on the visit, except for the nine hours or so strapped in their carseats to get there and back. While we were driving back on Sunday afternoon, we played games that I played with my sisters on car rides as a kid. One involves everyone picking a color of car and then seeing who gets to 20 cars of that color first.
It was a lot easier 30 years ago on a two-lane highway. Allie liked it, but she had to rely on me and Greg to tell her what some of the car colors were across the interstate. Fortunately, central and north central Illinois is flatter than a pancake and boring as hell to drive, so I didn't endanger us all too much.
I'm glad we weren't playing "Punch Bug."
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