Had a conversation with a co-worker who has two young'uns yesterday. Her husband was commenting on the 'P' that Grover or someone was showing on Sesame Street. Their 3 1/2 year old insisted it was an 'H'. Dad said, "no, it's a 'P'". Youngun says "No, it's an 'H'". Dad says, "No, that's a 'P'". Youngun says "It's an 'H'. NO FAIR!" Mom looks at Dad and wonders why in the world you would argue with a 3 year old...
This rang a bell and maybe even touched a nerve. This has been my life for about 6 months now.
LK: Is today a school day?
Beast*: Yes. It's Wednesday.
LK: Today is Saturday.
Beast: No, today is Wednesday. It's pizza day at school.
LK: But Miss Betsy said it was Saturday.
Beast: Actually, Saturday is a few days away. Today is Wednesday.
LK: NO! It's Saturday. YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS!
Beast: Well, I'm not going to argue with you about this.
LK: Well, you're not the boss of me.
Beast: Well, actually, I am.
LK: NO, YOU'RE NOT! You're not the boss of everything.
etc. only I typically strive to end these conversations before the ongoing Who's the Boss episodes run through my brain. I hate that.
So we're running into this 4 year old AT. TI. TUDE. And it drives me nuts. This, coupled with the great fun of running away whenever I call her, and the lack of cooperation with little everyday things is making this a challenging time in the life of this family. The hardest part, I think, is keeping the other old people in my house OUT of the conversation! My 25 (almost 26) yr old just LOVES to get into it with her, and will go round after round about which day it is, or which vegetable is on her plate, and then of course, who's the boss. And that drives me even more nuts!
So apparently I'm a little testy these days.
I read a couple of blog entries by l'il sis, and empathized with her reaction. I understood it and thought I'd feel the same way. Did not feel it was "over the top" as she did. So I left a short comment, in effect, saying I didn't feel she needed to clarify or backpedal or any such thing on this subject because one of the persons involved found out about the entry. In much less words and not at all as direct as this. But she pointed out that an excuse was given and that was all that was needed.
So testy little me thinks - un, unh (how the heck do you spell that?). I don't think so. You just don't ignore when it suits but jump on it when criticized. The only thing that stopped me was that subject of controversy said "apologetically yours" on her comment. OK. That was nice and probably enough to smooth raised hackles. But I stand by my initial reaction and comments.
Last night, DDD had her callback. She felt it was a good one. They asked her to wait around to read a little later with a couple other characters, so she waited an hour and 1/2. When they all went back in, the director pulled the stage manager to the side and said something really quickly, and next thing DDD knows, she's being led out of the room and told she can leave. But she can come back tomorrow (tonight) for another part. WHICH SHE IS GOING TO DO!!!
My little testy hackles are all up in arms again. You don't have a person sit around for an hour and 1/2 waiting and then unceremoniously single out and dismiss them in front of all the other actors! In my little (inexperienced) world, that is unacceptable. Even if it was someone's mistake - you put them through the paces anyway, and discuss the mistake with the person responsible later. I do not want to work with that director at all. I do not want to give that director the time of day. I, I, I. I apparently have a much shorter fuse than others, or maybe I'm just more sensitive. Don't know. I just know that these people I'm related to must be nicer people than I. It also points directly at why I am not cut out for more than recreational dabbles into this theatre stuff. I've always known I can't take the rejection. But now I know, it's not really the rejection I can't take. I actually find that fairly easy to deal with. It's the potential rudeness. Every time you audition, you put yourself up for someone else's examination and the potential for rudeness. I don't tolerate that well.
So this will be interesting - we're both going to the callbacks tonight. But my heart is REALLY not in it.
* BEAST came about when a commenter on l'il sis' entried happened to agree with me, and wrote: "Beast. Amen." Making both sis and I laugh out loud. I like it and I'm keeping it!
For those uninitiated to my strange family- I am "Be-a-starz-mom". "Be a star" has been a catch phrase around here since DDD was little. I even used it as a password for a while. So when I started this blog, DDD was going through college as a theatre major and that was a huge focus in all our lives. We'd arrange our trips back there to see her shows. So I became beastarzmom. And that's that. But I like Beast almost as much, (and it certainly seems to fit me, at least these days...) so that's who I'm gonna be! Thanks to MamaLee!
11.16.2006
11.13.2006
Are they NUTS?
So I went to an audition.
A real one.
Because DDD was going and I think it would be fun to be in something with her, even though she's got talent, experience, training, a BFA in theatre performance, the look, etc.
I've got... red hair.
So, neither one of us left feeling we'd done a particularly good job with the audition. Speaking from a point of extreme inexperience, I felt like I completely screwed it up, which didn't surprise me at all. She felt like she'd certainly done better, and they asked her to read for a part she'd already played and didn't want to repeat, so she wasn't terribly pleased. We both wrote it off.
Imagine our surprise when BOTH of us got a callback! Now getting a callback does not mean you are likely to be cast. Just that you got past the first round of cuts. Speaking from inexperience again, and from being the last kid ever picked for a sports team, I am still in shock. It's a small part (inexperience again, thank you! - I'm relieved!!!), but DDD's up for a lead so I'll stick with the process and we'll see what happens.
One day I'll write about my first ever experience with a huge, middle of a scene brain fart, but not right now. I need to keep whatever brain cells I have left around for this next round of whatever comes up. They're in for a world of surprise if they want me to dance!
So that's the excitement for now!
A real one.
Because DDD was going and I think it would be fun to be in something with her, even though she's got talent, experience, training, a BFA in theatre performance, the look, etc.
I've got... red hair.
So, neither one of us left feeling we'd done a particularly good job with the audition. Speaking from a point of extreme inexperience, I felt like I completely screwed it up, which didn't surprise me at all. She felt like she'd certainly done better, and they asked her to read for a part she'd already played and didn't want to repeat, so she wasn't terribly pleased. We both wrote it off.
Imagine our surprise when BOTH of us got a callback! Now getting a callback does not mean you are likely to be cast. Just that you got past the first round of cuts. Speaking from inexperience again, and from being the last kid ever picked for a sports team, I am still in shock. It's a small part (inexperience again, thank you! - I'm relieved!!!), but DDD's up for a lead so I'll stick with the process and we'll see what happens.One day I'll write about my first ever experience with a huge, middle of a scene brain fart, but not right now. I need to keep whatever brain cells I have left around for this next round of whatever comes up. They're in for a world of surprise if they want me to dance!
So that's the excitement for now!
11.07.2006
My celebrity call list
It's voting day.
So last evening, I'm waiting for a call from DH who is in India for a few weeks. Instead, I get calls from Ahnold, Clint Eastwood, Dianne Feinstein, some registered nurse named Diana something, and Bill Clinton.
Why don't we ever hear from these people except the evening before election day?
Actually, that's not fair, I've gotten several calls from the guv-ah-nator. Can't tell you what we've chatten about because it's a pretty one-way conversation. Not much of a listener, that guy... And last night was my second call from my buddy, Bill.
It used to be telemarketers. Now it's politicians. I hate it, but frankly, I feel less guilty hanging up on Clint and Arnold than I do the poor schmuck with the crappy telemarketing job.
But I think there should be a "do not call" list for political calls. I'm so going to be the first one on it!
So last evening, I'm waiting for a call from DH who is in India for a few weeks. Instead, I get calls from Ahnold, Clint Eastwood, Dianne Feinstein, some registered nurse named Diana something, and Bill Clinton.
Why don't we ever hear from these people except the evening before election day?
Actually, that's not fair, I've gotten several calls from the guv-ah-nator. Can't tell you what we've chatten about because it's a pretty one-way conversation. Not much of a listener, that guy... And last night was my second call from my buddy, Bill.
It used to be telemarketers. Now it's politicians. I hate it, but frankly, I feel less guilty hanging up on Clint and Arnold than I do the poor schmuck with the crappy telemarketing job.
But I think there should be a "do not call" list for political calls. I'm so going to be the first one on it!
11.05.2006
11.04.2006
questions, questions
LK: Mommy, do you know where your lipsops is?
Me: Isn’t it in my bathroom?
LK: You should look for it. Maybe it’s in BK’s bathroom.
…But I didn’t take it.
Me: How did it get in BK’s bathroom?
LK: Did you look for it yet?
Me: [continuing to dry hair] Why are you asking me? Do you know something about my lipsops? Did you put it in BK’s bathroom? (Ha, three to one on the question answering a question ratio!)
LK: Maybe you should look for it in BK’s bathroom.
… but I didn’t take it
Me: So who put it in BK’s bathroom?
LK: Did you find it already?
Me: Why are you so interested in this lipsops? Did you move it somewhere?
LK: I’m just wondering. (breaking the question for a question mode once again.)
Me: [Stops hairdryer, walks into BK’s bathroom, finds lipsops right there on the counter. Reacts with shock and amazement]
Well – I found my lipsops! How did it get in BK’s bathroom?
LK: I don’t know.
Me: Isn’t it in my bathroom?
LK: You should look for it. Maybe it’s in BK’s bathroom.
…But I didn’t take it.
Me: How did it get in BK’s bathroom?
LK: Did you look for it yet?
Me: [continuing to dry hair] Why are you asking me? Do you know something about my lipsops? Did you put it in BK’s bathroom? (Ha, three to one on the question answering a question ratio!)
LK: Maybe you should look for it in BK’s bathroom.
… but I didn’t take it
Me: So who put it in BK’s bathroom?
LK: Did you find it already?
Me: Why are you so interested in this lipsops? Did you move it somewhere?
LK: I’m just wondering. (breaking the question for a question mode once again.)
Me: [Stops hairdryer, walks into BK’s bathroom, finds lipsops right there on the counter. Reacts with shock and amazement]
Well – I found my lipsops! How did it get in BK’s bathroom?
LK: I don’t know.
How to get that cute little pink cell phone:
Leave old phone in pocket for laundry obsessed DH to send through the washer.
Visit e-bay and bid on cute little pink phone.
Visit e-bay and bid on cute little pink phone.
11.03.2006
How you know it's been too long since you listened to country music
You're pulling into the parking garage wiping the tears from your cheeks after listening to Collin Raye tear jerker, "Love Me".
Pathetic.
Pathetic.
10.19.2006
Klepto Kid
We’ve recently had a smate of robberies. Well, maybe not really robberies, but petty thefts. We know who the thief is. She’s 4 years old, and has a new haircut that she really loves.
The thefts occur at all times of the day. So far, we’ve been theft-free during sleeping hours, at least to the best of our knowledge, and I should know, since she still earns her other nickname, the Stealth Snuggler.
Most of the thefts are items that belong to DDD, BK or me. She tends to like lipsops (lipstick – we think the name is a combo between lipstick and lip gloss, but we’ll never know), blush and nail polish. Most of the BK thefts are of the candy version. I don’t get too excited about that. Stop keeping candy in your ROOM!! But sadly, both DDD and I have had favorite glasses (the optical kind) removed from our possession. LK remembers that she had them, but cannot come up with where they are.
Now I know why.
Yesterday, I was changing the sheets for all the beds. Ripped the sheets off, and pretty well emptied out the shelf with the 2nd set of sheets on it. Guess what I found? My favorite glasses!!!
On the shelf.
Behind the sheets.
I wouldn't remember that hiding place, either.
Sadly, no, no favorite glasses for DDD. We are still in search mode for those.
But the haircut – oh so cute.
And I loved being able to use the word "smate" in a sentence!
The thefts occur at all times of the day. So far, we’ve been theft-free during sleeping hours, at least to the best of our knowledge, and I should know, since she still earns her other nickname, the Stealth Snuggler.
Most of the thefts are items that belong to DDD, BK or me. She tends to like lipsops (lipstick – we think the name is a combo between lipstick and lip gloss, but we’ll never know), blush and nail polish. Most of the BK thefts are of the candy version. I don’t get too excited about that. Stop keeping candy in your ROOM!! But sadly, both DDD and I have had favorite glasses (the optical kind) removed from our possession. LK remembers that she had them, but cannot come up with where they are.
Now I know why.
Yesterday, I was changing the sheets for all the beds. Ripped the sheets off, and pretty well emptied out the shelf with the 2nd set of sheets on it. Guess what I found? My favorite glasses!!!
On the shelf.
Behind the sheets.
I wouldn't remember that hiding place, either.
Sadly, no, no favorite glasses for DDD. We are still in search mode for those.
But the haircut – oh so cute.
And I loved being able to use the word "smate" in a sentence!
9.29.2006
Terrorists are LTAO
I’ve been busy. I guess it’s a good thing I don’t advertise my blaaawwwg, as I would probably feel very obligated to update it all the time, instead of the rather vague guilt that comes with being just too darn busy to think, let alone update.
I’ve recently come back from a business trip involving airports. It was before we could start bringing certain toiletries with us, as long as they were not in the handly little travel cases designed for such things, but in a one-quart plastic zip-lock bag. (Zip-lock profusely thanks the TSA, by the way, for this endorsement requirement.)
So, because I like to travel with deodorant and makeup, I had to check my bag. I noticed a remarkable abundance of overhead compartment space. I also noticed we loaded and deplaned a whole lot faster. (The airlines thank the TSA for inadvertently increasing their on-time departure rate, but they hate like hell all the baggage handling.)
I think it’s odd, though, that we are allowed to bring these items with us now, but only in 3oz or smaller containers. Anyone who has watched a recent or even not-so-recent spy movie of any kind knows that explosives can come in VERY SMALL amounts and VERY SMALL containers. So what’s up with the 3 oz limit? We’re not worried about your 3 oz bottle, but boy, don’t you even try to bring 4 oz with you!
Our favorite terrorists are laughing their asses off. Whose bright idea was this anyway? If you CAN identify an explosive (or can tell it is non-explosive) in a 3 oz container, what makes you think you CANNOT identify one in a 5 oz container? I’m a little baffled at the logic here. I appreciate that we can bring this stuff along now, but I just don’t get it.
While I don’t suppose I would choose the same method of expression, I think I probably agree with this guy.
Flying isn't nearly as much fun as it used to be. In fact, it's really a pain. And a stupid pain, at that.
I’ve recently come back from a business trip involving airports. It was before we could start bringing certain toiletries with us, as long as they were not in the handly little travel cases designed for such things, but in a one-quart plastic zip-lock bag. (Zip-lock profusely thanks the TSA, by the way, for this
So, because I like to travel with deodorant and makeup, I had to check my bag. I noticed a remarkable abundance of overhead compartment space. I also noticed we loaded and deplaned a whole lot faster. (The airlines thank the TSA for inadvertently increasing their on-time departure rate, but they hate like hell all the baggage handling.)
I think it’s odd, though, that we are allowed to bring these items with us now, but only in 3oz or smaller containers. Anyone who has watched a recent or even not-so-recent spy movie of any kind knows that explosives can come in VERY SMALL amounts and VERY SMALL containers. So what’s up with the 3 oz limit? We’re not worried about your 3 oz bottle, but boy, don’t you even try to bring 4 oz with you!
Our favorite terrorists are laughing their asses off. Whose bright idea was this anyway? If you CAN identify an explosive (or can tell it is non-explosive) in a 3 oz container, what makes you think you CANNOT identify one in a 5 oz container? I’m a little baffled at the logic here. I appreciate that we can bring this stuff along now, but I just don’t get it.
While I don’t suppose I would choose the same method of expression, I think I probably agree with this guy.
Flying isn't nearly as much fun as it used to be. In fact, it's really a pain. And a stupid pain, at that.
9.11.2006
We Remember. We Care. Keith Glascoe 1962 - 2001
I remember the moment I saw the first tower crumble.
I never watch TV in the morning, but the news that wakes me up every morning was alarming. The TV was on in a flash and the first tower was smoking with an aircraft stuck in it. Like others, I watched in horror as the second tower was struck.
That seemed horrific in itself, but it wasn't long before the crumbling started. My first words were - Oh my GOD - There are a ton of rescue workers who just piled into that building! There were no other words, just tears.
Keith Alexander Glascoe was one of those firefighters on the scene. He'd packed plenty into his 38 years, but not enough. Born 12/9/62 in San Francisco, it's clear he was the strong, athletic type. I don't know when his family moved back east, but he played football at Midwood High School in Brooklyn. According to all records I've found, he started playing as a youngster and never lost that connection. At 6'4", 270#, I'm quite sure he picked the right sport.
After graduating from college, he pursued more football and some did some acting as well. His role as "Benny" in The Professional with Gary Oldman was a highlight from that period.
He married Veronica Squef in 1996 and was father to two sons, Nolan and Owen. They were expecting his third child when tragedy struck. Keith Jr. will not know his father's arms, but through his family, (and the internet), he will learn of his father's legacy.
There are links and links with wonderful memorials dedicated to Keith. Some written by people who had the privilege to know him. Some informational sites. Check them out. See what this man brought to the lives of others and to our country. Leave a message.
It's been 5 years. Look around you now and appreciate the people you have the privilege to know. Appreciate those who have touched your life in some way, and those whose lives you've touched. Appreciate those who have touched your life in ways they can't know. Keith is one of those special people who have touched my life, long after he gave his. I am privileged to honor him in whatever little way I can. Thank you, Keith.
We remember you.
We care.
We thank you.
Rest in Peace.
*******************************************
Please feel free to comment, add more detail, remember, honor this wonderful man.
I participated in 2996 to honor the memory of all those fallen in the terrorist attacks.
http://www.dcroe.com/2996/ for more tributes to other victims of 9/11. We cannot ever forget them.
9.02.2006
Homerun on Cuteness
BK and girlfriend celebrated their 1 year anniversary in August. BK’s a bit of a loser when it comes to doing “special” things for special occasions… for example, he really didn’t like the gift he bought her for Christmas (and he was right – he was being a cheapskate), so he just didn’t give it to her.
Until about 3 weeks later.
Waiting until the right MOMENT, you know…
On Valentine’s Day, his mother dragged him by the hand (let me tell you, that’s embarassing when you’re 16!) into the store to buy something cute and some Hershey Kisses and flowers.
6 month anniversary (only important in year one, you know…), a mix CD happened along with a necklace (purchased by the mom, natch). At least the CD required thought.
Birthday gift was purchased (after a bit of badgering) by you know who. Gee, I wonder if he ever paid me back for that.
So I didn’t have any real hopes that things would change for this occasion. Being a girl myself, though, I know how important an anniversary is – especially when you’re young, dating, and it’s been A WHOLE YEAR! So off we go.
Being a supportive mom and trying my best to instill thoughtfulness into my son, I took him shopping. After many, many jewelry shops and a readjustment of pricing reality, he chose a very nice heart shaped necklace with a few little diamonds and the word “Love” in it. You’ve seen them. While I wouldn’t wear something like that, I agreed that it was probably perfect for a 16 year old girlfriend. So he dug out his $$ and bought it along with a nice chain for it.
He also took her out to a nice dinner. Points scored.
Until…. Ms. Homerun in Cuteness strikes. Whenever I think she’s maxed out on the cuteness factors (she made him a hockey monkey at Build a Bear for last Christmas - freakin' darling!), she ratchets it up a notch. Get this:
She sends him on a scavenger hunt of sorts. He gets a clue in an envelope telling him where his next clue is. There are ten in all. #1 starts at her house and sends him somewhere else special to them. Also included in card #1 are 10 reasons why she loves him. (I know, but try to remember being 16 and in love…)
He travels to various places, Starbucks, Blockbuster, etc. and picks up cards telling him where to go next, and including more reasons why she loves him (9 reasons, then 8, then 7… you get the drift).
Near the end of the hunt she sends him to the community center where they met playing roller hockey. After finding things various places, including their favorite – a Dr. Pepper, the last clue sends him to the faceoff circle where he will find his present. Guess what it was. Or guess WHO it was. Yep – can’t put anything over on you! There she was, all cute and stuff waiting for him. Along with the very last of the reasons she loves him. (oh yeah – and a coupon book she made full of stuff he can redeem – backrubs, skating, bowling, all that kinda stuff.) (Oh yeah – and a nicely framed picture of the two of them.) GAHHH.
How can a mom compete with that kind of cuteness? Clearly the boy cannot come up with ideas on his own to use cuteness to his advantage, nor is he inclined to ask his friends for ideas, so geeeez it’s kinda up to me. And let me tell you, I long for the days when the kid just called up the other kid and asked her/him to go to the dance. Alas, they are truly no longer here.
But the worst part about it was that this was one of the ideas I gave him last year for asking her to the homecoming dance. I even suggested that maybe that would be especially good for the prom. Now we gotta come up with something new.
Bah.
and yet... HELP!
Until about 3 weeks later.
Waiting until the right MOMENT, you know…
On Valentine’s Day, his mother dragged him by the hand (let me tell you, that’s embarassing when you’re 16!) into the store to buy something cute and some Hershey Kisses and flowers.
6 month anniversary (only important in year one, you know…), a mix CD happened along with a necklace (purchased by the mom, natch). At least the CD required thought.
Birthday gift was purchased (after a bit of badgering) by you know who. Gee, I wonder if he ever paid me back for that.
So I didn’t have any real hopes that things would change for this occasion. Being a girl myself, though, I know how important an anniversary is – especially when you’re young, dating, and it’s been A WHOLE YEAR! So off we go.
Being a supportive mom and trying my best to instill thoughtfulness into my son, I took him shopping. After many, many jewelry shops and a readjustment of pricing reality, he chose a very nice heart shaped necklace with a few little diamonds and the word “Love” in it. You’ve seen them. While I wouldn’t wear something like that, I agreed that it was probably perfect for a 16 year old girlfriend. So he dug out his $$ and bought it along with a nice chain for it.
He also took her out to a nice dinner. Points scored.
Until…. Ms. Homerun in Cuteness strikes. Whenever I think she’s maxed out on the cuteness factors (she made him a hockey monkey at Build a Bear for last Christmas - freakin' darling!), she ratchets it up a notch. Get this:
She sends him on a scavenger hunt of sorts. He gets a clue in an envelope telling him where his next clue is. There are ten in all. #1 starts at her house and sends him somewhere else special to them. Also included in card #1 are 10 reasons why she loves him. (I know, but try to remember being 16 and in love…)
He travels to various places, Starbucks, Blockbuster, etc. and picks up cards telling him where to go next, and including more reasons why she loves him (9 reasons, then 8, then 7… you get the drift).
Near the end of the hunt she sends him to the community center where they met playing roller hockey. After finding things various places, including their favorite – a Dr. Pepper, the last clue sends him to the faceoff circle where he will find his present. Guess what it was. Or guess WHO it was. Yep – can’t put anything over on you! There she was, all cute and stuff waiting for him. Along with the very last of the reasons she loves him. (oh yeah – and a coupon book she made full of stuff he can redeem – backrubs, skating, bowling, all that kinda stuff.) (Oh yeah – and a nicely framed picture of the two of them.) GAHHH.
How can a mom compete with that kind of cuteness? Clearly the boy cannot come up with ideas on his own to use cuteness to his advantage, nor is he inclined to ask his friends for ideas, so geeeez it’s kinda up to me. And let me tell you, I long for the days when the kid just called up the other kid and asked her/him to go to the dance. Alas, they are truly no longer here.
But the worst part about it was that this was one of the ideas I gave him last year for asking her to the homecoming dance. I even suggested that maybe that would be especially good for the prom. Now we gotta come up with something new.
Bah.
and yet... HELP!
8.24.2006
Where ya been?
This - is where I've been.
Still a little disbelief that I'm going to get up on a stage after 34 years and do this, but I guess that is the logical result of all the rehearsals and stuff I've been doing lately. Some of it's fun, some is not. Working with many young people is interesting. We've definitely got some characters in this cast! And as it's a musical, we have musical girls and musical boys. Always good for some fun. We're told tickets are selling pretty well, so the run may be extended to the end of October. I guess that's good, but I was pretty happy it would only be 4 weekends. 7??? Not quite as crazy about that idea. Our lives are already in turmoil from the wreaked schedules.
School has started, BK is a junior and all of a sudden pretty sullen and pulling away from activities he'd done before etc. And of course, we're watching him like a hawk now.
LK is an official "Junior Kindergartener", which makes her the big kid in the school. She's tying her own shoelaces, which makes her the only 4 year old in the school doing that. But to be fair, she only recently figured out her colors... we all have strengths. Hers apparently have to do with shoes.
DH is still job searching and having many interviews, some of them look interesting and promising and some seem like just more of the same. My only advice (I try to remain like Switzerland in this whole process, but this time I slipped a little) is to get the hell out of the business he's been in. Do something - ANYTHING - as long as it's different. So maybe I'm the U.N. this time. I mean well, I give advice, but have very little effect on the decision.
Construction update - house next door almost has a roof again, cutting off our fabulous far away view of some nondescript hill that DH cherished for the few weeks we could see it. Our window has still not been fixed, but that is scheduled to happen next week. The trees are still scorched and strange looking, but I suppose next year they'll look good as new. Hammering starts at about 7:30am, but has never been really terrible. Neighbors across the street ripped their shake roofing off this week and replaced it. Good move. There are about 3 more who really should do the same.
See - life goes on, busy lives are just more boring, I think. I don't have any time to even find the humor in anything right now. Maybe in November.
Still a little disbelief that I'm going to get up on a stage after 34 years and do this, but I guess that is the logical result of all the rehearsals and stuff I've been doing lately. Some of it's fun, some is not. Working with many young people is interesting. We've definitely got some characters in this cast! And as it's a musical, we have musical girls and musical boys. Always good for some fun. We're told tickets are selling pretty well, so the run may be extended to the end of October. I guess that's good, but I was pretty happy it would only be 4 weekends. 7??? Not quite as crazy about that idea. Our lives are already in turmoil from the wreaked schedules.School has started, BK is a junior and all of a sudden pretty sullen and pulling away from activities he'd done before etc. And of course, we're watching him like a hawk now.
LK is an official "Junior Kindergartener", which makes her the big kid in the school. She's tying her own shoelaces, which makes her the only 4 year old in the school doing that. But to be fair, she only recently figured out her colors... we all have strengths. Hers apparently have to do with shoes.
DH is still job searching and having many interviews, some of them look interesting and promising and some seem like just more of the same. My only advice (I try to remain like Switzerland in this whole process, but this time I slipped a little) is to get the hell out of the business he's been in. Do something - ANYTHING - as long as it's different. So maybe I'm the U.N. this time. I mean well, I give advice, but have very little effect on the decision.
Construction update - house next door almost has a roof again, cutting off our fabulous far away view of some nondescript hill that DH cherished for the few weeks we could see it. Our window has still not been fixed, but that is scheduled to happen next week. The trees are still scorched and strange looking, but I suppose next year they'll look good as new. Hammering starts at about 7:30am, but has never been really terrible. Neighbors across the street ripped their shake roofing off this week and replaced it. Good move. There are about 3 more who really should do the same.
See - life goes on, busy lives are just more boring, I think. I don't have any time to even find the humor in anything right now. Maybe in November.
8.12.2006
A day in the life
I was supposed to write a nice mushy post about my anniversary this year. As of last Monday, DH and I have been married for 30 years! God, that is forever. And I have ideas for things that take 30 years, what else happened 30 years ago, etc. etc. But those require a little research, and mostly a little time. And I'm in very short supply of that particular resource. So I’m going to refer you to a very nice post by Amalah, who celebrated her 8th anniversary the day after our thirtieth. She did a wonderful job of summing up anniversary feelings, so thanks, Amalah – and to DH – “what she said…”! Love ya!
So - Discretionary Time is just not available lately. A sample of a recent and, unfortunately, typical day (because it requires no research and links are minimal):
5:30 Alarm goes off. Beastarzmom is supposed to get out of bed and get gym clothes on.
6:10 Beastarzmom finally groans loudly and gets out of bed.
6:25 Get to the gym, only to find all the elliptical machines are taken. Who ARE these people who get up at this ungodly hour to exercise? And dammit, I need the elliptical, as my scoliosis makes the impact I inflict on my body by the treadmill quite painful. And geeez, I HATE the stairstepper and the exercise bikes make my butt hurt and lord almighty, what else can I complain about?
7:35 Leave the gym. Who cares if the workout is done or not, I’ve burned calories and they say that’s a good thing – anyway, there are things to do!
7:40 – 8:30 Shower, pick up left over messes from previous night owls (16 y/0, 22 y/o and 25y/o who I am so TOTALLY not staying up for anymore.) Encourage somnolent 4 year old to wake up and get going.
8:30 Physically pull 4 year old out of bed. If it’s shower day, take screaming child into shower. Wash & condition hair, soap up, get the hell out.
8:45 Try to brush screaming 4 year old’s hair which has just been conditioned, so it’s just not that bad, child! Get over it.
8:55 Round child up again and get hair finished and teeth brushed. What? Forgot breakfast? Shit. Breakfast bar it is. Maybe you'll just eat the school lunch today. Do I have any money? Shit. Throw a quesadilla together and stick it in a lunch bag.
9:20 Finally in car driving to day care. Get reminded to turn the right way. Thank you very much underage back seat driver.
9:30 Peel child off legs for the fourteenth time, wondering aloud why some days are so easy and some are so awful. Beg telepathically for a teacher to come along and peel child off with me.
9:40 Get in car and drive off. Damn. Late for work AGAIN! Don’t know why they put up with me.
10:10 Park after listening to whatever book on tape/CD I’ve got going. (Nicholas Sparks’ The Guardian – so far totally predictable, but a nice commute pasttime nontheless.) Grumble as car/tape gets turned off and walk to office.
10 – 5 (sorta) Work. Find work to do. Sometimes busy, Sometimes not. No details. I know better.
5:00 Walk back to car, looking forward to listening to story again. (I actually would drive around places just for the hell of it when I was listening to Harry Potter. Jim Dale – you are incredible!)
5:45 Get to daycare, coerce unwilling child to actually leave day care. (So what was that all about this morning?)
6:00 Finally get child into car. Listen to all the reasons she should have stayed there and it is no fair that I picked her up.
6:10 Get home, swear at the mess that aforementioned larger people have left during the day. Try to find something to eat that only takes 10 minutes to prepare. It sucks that we don’t do fast food anymore.
6:30 Sit down to “eat”. In reality, shovel food into mouth at breakneck speeds. Realize that 4 year old is not keeping up with the pace and go get container to take food with.
6:45 Drive to rehearsal at 7. Hope not to be late. One little old lady or little man with a hat in front of us and we’re toast.
7:03 Shit. Late, but not by much. Rehearsal has started. Easy enough to catch up. Set up young lady with remnants of interrupted dinner. Watch as young lady decides to dance with the music instead. Shrug shoulders and go take my place in the scene.
7:03 – 9:55 Alternately walk through scene, take notes, wait, get confused, wait, walk through scene with child on back, get confused, wait, wait, wait. Finally leave.
10:15 Home. Child wants to watch a movie. I suggest that 10pm is really not a good time to turn on a movie. Daddy is already turning the movie on. Sigh loudly and go catch up on email – maybe she needs to wind down a bit after all too.
10:30 Turn off TV, Try to get young lady into her own bed. Being unsuccessful, elicit promise that at the first kick, she’s off to her own bed.
10:40 Go out and gather up crap left by aforementioned larger people (mostly boys). Find places for it.
10:50 Grab jammies and slide into my 6 inches of bed. Get into butt-up-against position and try to sleep.
11:03 Acknowledge 16 year old who is finally home at the stroke of 11. (California State imposes curfew rules of 11pm for 1st year drivers. I like this – for once, I don’t have to be the bad guy.) Try to remember what I need him to do the next day.
11:50 Look over at clock and swear, wondering WHY someone so exhausted could still be awake.
5:30am 2nd verse. Same as the first.
So - Discretionary Time is just not available lately. A sample of a recent and, unfortunately, typical day (because it requires no research and links are minimal):
5:30 Alarm goes off. Beastarzmom is supposed to get out of bed and get gym clothes on.
6:10 Beastarzmom finally groans loudly and gets out of bed.
6:25 Get to the gym, only to find all the elliptical machines are taken. Who ARE these people who get up at this ungodly hour to exercise? And dammit, I need the elliptical, as my scoliosis makes the impact I inflict on my body by the treadmill quite painful. And geeez, I HATE the stairstepper and the exercise bikes make my butt hurt and lord almighty, what else can I complain about?
7:35 Leave the gym. Who cares if the workout is done or not, I’ve burned calories and they say that’s a good thing – anyway, there are things to do!
7:40 – 8:30 Shower, pick up left over messes from previous night owls (16 y/0, 22 y/o and 25y/o who I am so TOTALLY not staying up for anymore.) Encourage somnolent 4 year old to wake up and get going.
8:30 Physically pull 4 year old out of bed. If it’s shower day, take screaming child into shower. Wash & condition hair, soap up, get the hell out.
8:45 Try to brush screaming 4 year old’s hair which has just been conditioned, so it’s just not that bad, child! Get over it.
8:55 Round child up again and get hair finished and teeth brushed. What? Forgot breakfast? Shit. Breakfast bar it is. Maybe you'll just eat the school lunch today. Do I have any money? Shit. Throw a quesadilla together and stick it in a lunch bag.
9:20 Finally in car driving to day care. Get reminded to turn the right way. Thank you very much underage back seat driver.
9:30 Peel child off legs for the fourteenth time, wondering aloud why some days are so easy and some are so awful. Beg telepathically for a teacher to come along and peel child off with me.
9:40 Get in car and drive off. Damn. Late for work AGAIN! Don’t know why they put up with me.
10:10 Park after listening to whatever book on tape/CD I’ve got going. (Nicholas Sparks’ The Guardian – so far totally predictable, but a nice commute pasttime nontheless.) Grumble as car/tape gets turned off and walk to office.
10 – 5 (sorta) Work. Find work to do. Sometimes busy, Sometimes not. No details. I know better.
5:00 Walk back to car, looking forward to listening to story again. (I actually would drive around places just for the hell of it when I was listening to Harry Potter. Jim Dale – you are incredible!)
5:45 Get to daycare, coerce unwilling child to actually leave day care. (So what was that all about this morning?)
6:00 Finally get child into car. Listen to all the reasons she should have stayed there and it is no fair that I picked her up.
6:10 Get home, swear at the mess that aforementioned larger people have left during the day. Try to find something to eat that only takes 10 minutes to prepare. It sucks that we don’t do fast food anymore.
6:30 Sit down to “eat”. In reality, shovel food into mouth at breakneck speeds. Realize that 4 year old is not keeping up with the pace and go get container to take food with.
6:45 Drive to rehearsal at 7. Hope not to be late. One little old lady or little man with a hat in front of us and we’re toast.
7:03 Shit. Late, but not by much. Rehearsal has started. Easy enough to catch up. Set up young lady with remnants of interrupted dinner. Watch as young lady decides to dance with the music instead. Shrug shoulders and go take my place in the scene.
7:03 – 9:55 Alternately walk through scene, take notes, wait, get confused, wait, walk through scene with child on back, get confused, wait, wait, wait. Finally leave.
10:15 Home. Child wants to watch a movie. I suggest that 10pm is really not a good time to turn on a movie. Daddy is already turning the movie on. Sigh loudly and go catch up on email – maybe she needs to wind down a bit after all too.
10:30 Turn off TV, Try to get young lady into her own bed. Being unsuccessful, elicit promise that at the first kick, she’s off to her own bed.
10:40 Go out and gather up crap left by aforementioned larger people (mostly boys). Find places for it.
10:50 Grab jammies and slide into my 6 inches of bed. Get into butt-up-against position and try to sleep.
11:03 Acknowledge 16 year old who is finally home at the stroke of 11. (California State imposes curfew rules of 11pm for 1st year drivers. I like this – for once, I don’t have to be the bad guy.) Try to remember what I need him to do the next day.
11:50 Look over at clock and swear, wondering WHY someone so exhausted could still be awake.
5:30am 2nd verse. Same as the first.
8.04.2006
Will you join?
I found this on one of the "nurse-y" blogs that I visit.
I'm totally in. Admittedly, it doesn't take much to make me misty, but whenever I read or re-read an account from 9/11, or hear stories of its aftermath, my heart just breaks.
I will join in and post my tribute to "my" victim on 9/11. Please, if you have a blog, take the time to join the ranks. If you don't have a blog - blogspot's pretty darn easy! Try it for a day! What a great reason to start.... even if you don't continue.
http://www.dcroe.com/2996/
Thanks.
7.25.2006
Hooked again
Here I was, minding my own business, playing my favorite solitaire and card games, retaining my title as Queen of Dr. Mario, and along comes a new game – Sudoku.
Now, Sudoku is not really new. But I’ve been avoiding it. Like the plague.
You see, I know myself. I have a bit of an addictive streak when it comes to puzzle types of games. I have no interest in Grand Theft Auto, or Halo 1-17. I will occasionally dabble in a little word yahtzee or boggle, but my addictions tend to be of the puzzle type.
So, my internet provider very sweetly offered me a free full functioning game of Sudoku. I decided I’d just go ahead and see what everyone was talking about – not that I’d play it or anything.
Three days later… I am hooked. Can’t get enough. I’ll play it with “automark” on, “automark” off, any level, for time, for points, for whatever strikes my fancy. Oh, and the IP provider/game service tracks scores for the last 24 hours, so if you think you’ve gotten a pretty good score and submit it to the global list, you can see just how stupid you are, that there are 653 people with better scores than the great one you just submitted.
But then – you submit a score and find that you are number 54! Whoa! Only 53 better scores than yours??? Let’s go for getting into the 40s! the 30s! the 20s! How about top 10? You see where we’re going with this? I had to DRAG myself away from the computer to exercise my feeble attempts at conversation and family togetherness. All the while trying to figure out what I needed to do to get that higher score.
Wonder if there are any Sudoku Anonymous groups starting up. I might need one.
Now, Sudoku is not really new. But I’ve been avoiding it. Like the plague.
You see, I know myself. I have a bit of an addictive streak when it comes to puzzle types of games. I have no interest in Grand Theft Auto, or Halo 1-17. I will occasionally dabble in a little word yahtzee or boggle, but my addictions tend to be of the puzzle type.
So, my internet provider very sweetly offered me a free full functioning game of Sudoku. I decided I’d just go ahead and see what everyone was talking about – not that I’d play it or anything.
Three days later… I am hooked. Can’t get enough. I’ll play it with “automark” on, “automark” off, any level, for time, for points, for whatever strikes my fancy. Oh, and the IP provider/game service tracks scores for the last 24 hours, so if you think you’ve gotten a pretty good score and submit it to the global list, you can see just how stupid you are, that there are 653 people with better scores than the great one you just submitted.
But then – you submit a score and find that you are number 54! Whoa! Only 53 better scores than yours??? Let’s go for getting into the 40s! the 30s! the 20s! How about top 10? You see where we’re going with this? I had to DRAG myself away from the computer to exercise my feeble attempts at conversation and family togetherness. All the while trying to figure out what I needed to do to get that higher score.
Wonder if there are any Sudoku Anonymous groups starting up. I might need one.
7.21.2006
I don't get it
For People Who Can’t Tell a Joke, like me, hearing a good joke is wonderful. But even hearing a bad joke is ok. One of my colleagues tried to tell me a joke a day or so ago. He is also a Person Who Can’t Tell a Joke, so I thoroughly enjoyed the agony he was going through to get this thing out. I have no idea what the joke really was supposed to be, but it was something about a damn fish and some m-f butter. He ended the joke with the requisite apology, that it was a much funnier joke if only he could have told the “beginning” part right! I so totally know your pain.
I have exactly two jokes in my repertoire. Actually one is a riddle. (But I even mess those up, typically – usually putting some part of the witty answer in the question. Yeah – you want to hear those things from someone else. Trust me.) And the other one could definitely be considered offensive to some… Anyway – I have periodically attempted to increase this repertoire, and have made it to 4 or maybe even 5 jokes from time to time. But the old memory thing just doesn’t work for this stuff, and I revert back to my two old standbys. Hence, I don’t tell jokes.
But I like to listen – Those of you who are blessed with the ability to tell a good story - got any good ones?
I have exactly two jokes in my repertoire. Actually one is a riddle. (But I even mess those up, typically – usually putting some part of the witty answer in the question. Yeah – you want to hear those things from someone else. Trust me.) And the other one could definitely be considered offensive to some… Anyway – I have periodically attempted to increase this repertoire, and have made it to 4 or maybe even 5 jokes from time to time. But the old memory thing just doesn’t work for this stuff, and I revert back to my two old standbys. Hence, I don’t tell jokes.
But I like to listen – Those of you who are blessed with the ability to tell a good story - got any good ones?
7.13.2006
Talk about a full house...
I read this and after the omg horror moment, am ashamed.
I have my 4 kids all living under the same roof again, in a not huge, but decently sized 4 bedroom home in a nice suburban area with terrific schools, etc. etc. and I'm complaining (ok, not really complaining, but THINKING) about how crammed in here we feel. How much messier the house seems now, how no one EVER cleans up after themselves. OK, maybe they do, but with more people in the house, it's more noticeable when they don't.
These people wanted lots of children. They have 2. want more. go get pregnant and have triplets. think they're done. get pregnant again and have 4 more. WHAAAAA? And the kicker for me? They live in a one bedroom apartment. 11 people in a one bedroom apartment? Granted the quads aren't home yet, so it's only 7 right now. That's one more than is in my house right now, and one of mine is in the garage!
God bless them and watch over them and I'm gonna shut my damn mouth!
I have my 4 kids all living under the same roof again, in a not huge, but decently sized 4 bedroom home in a nice suburban area with terrific schools, etc. etc. and I'm complaining (ok, not really complaining, but THINKING) about how crammed in here we feel. How much messier the house seems now, how no one EVER cleans up after themselves. OK, maybe they do, but with more people in the house, it's more noticeable when they don't.
These people wanted lots of children. They have 2. want more. go get pregnant and have triplets. think they're done. get pregnant again and have 4 more. WHAAAAA? And the kicker for me? They live in a one bedroom apartment. 11 people in a one bedroom apartment? Granted the quads aren't home yet, so it's only 7 right now. That's one more than is in my house right now, and one of mine is in the garage!
God bless them and watch over them and I'm gonna shut my damn mouth!
6.30.2006
Bittersweet
So last week's hockey tournament went well - BK's team won! The kids won windbreakers, a heavy rectangular medal and a nice trophy for the rink. At one point this year, his English teacher had the kids write out some goals for the year. One of BK's was to win a tournament. So it took nearly all year, but check that sucker off!!!
It was very exciting.
And very smelly.
They kind of expected to come in second, so it was doubly fun for them. And special, too. They have a guy on the team who has over the last 6 months, lost most of his sight. He is now legally blind, but can still see some shadows and stuff. He still suits up, and when there's an opportunity, the coach puts him in and he just sticks to one of the players, trying to keep his movement contained. But it's like having only 3 players out there, because he can't see the puck. Once in a while someone forgets and passes to him - it's just heartbreaking. He's such a nice kid and he was a real force on the team in the early part of the season - strong defense, great skater, very fast, great shooter, the whole enchilada. I don't know the name of the syndrome, but it is apparently hereditary. He has a younger sister who's already been affected.
After the tournament win, the lady running the thing asked for our team captain. We don't have one, but all the kids said "M" - almost in unison. My throat closed up like I'd swallowed one of those giant jawbreakers. (Remember I am the person who will dissolve into sobs over a newspaper article.) I needed more than a couple Kleenexes for that one! So he got his picture taken with the trophy. He had to be led up to get his jacket and medal and he said the flash kind of hurt his eyes. I'm getting misty just writing this.
I'm sure they wondered if we were putting one over on them about him playing, there were some mighty questioning looks, but no one asked. He's going to Anaheim for the finals tournament with us, too, but will do the same thing. If we have a decent lead, or the situation is such that he can play, he'll go out there and skate, trying to stick to one of the opponents. I'm quite sure they'll find some time in the games to use him, just so he can get whatever the team wins.
I'm bringing my kleenex.
A whole box.
6.27.2006
When is red red?
My older sister has blond hair. My younger one has red. At least, that’s what we all thought. I also have red hair. My mother was a redhead as well. We outnumbered the blondies 3-2.
(note: In the middle of writing this, I was checking other blogs, hers included, and found her entry about the VERY SAME THING! . A little ESP like stuff. …creepy. But I do this with my older sister all the time, why not the younger? So go check it out for yourself – red or not?)
I married a French-Italian, with skin that tans and what used to be a full head of dark wavy hair and these beautiful brown eyes. (Age has taken care of the dark, the wavy AND the full… ah well, but the eyes are still beautiful brown.) Due to this, I now have a house full of dark haired children (but they all tan fairly well). I used to say, when asked whether I wanted a boy or a girl for my third, that I really didn’t care, I was going for the redhead this time. Didn’t happen. Can’t even adopt a redhead! But that’s beside the point.
Younger sis also marries a dark haired spouse, but ends up with a beautiful red haired son. My envy has no bounds! But I’m glad one of us got blessed. So, she goes out with this little redhead (who gets compliments on his hair color ALL THE TIME), and people ask where he gets it from. Really!
We’ve laughed and marvelled at this more times than I can count. Don’t these people see? To me her hair is clearly red, but then I grew up knowing her hair was red. True, it’s lighter than mine. Mine is kind of a deep auburn and she has a lot more blond in hers. But shoot – it’s still red.
The other day we were at the zoo and little A. came running to catch up to me. She told him to “stay with Auntie R.” and got a response from someone nearby that he must have gotten his red hair from Auntie R. Ok, granted, my hair is brighter, partially because I have this fabulous colorist who has been covering the gray for oh, I don’t know, a year or so, now (I can’t believe I confessed in public!!! But it’s not a really a secret – it’s just that she’s matched my natural shade so well that no one really knows unless I tell them – or I’ve gone too long between appointments :chagrin:) but still, if you are clearly talking to the mother WHO HAS RED HAIR, would you say that??? Besides the fact that it’s really difficult genetically for me to have contributed to his red hair, I hate that it makes her crazy. In this ladie’s defense, I suppose she never thought an off-handed comment like that would create such turmoil, but then those are the kinds that typically do.
I managed to find a picture with the three redheads in a row. The lighting's a little off, and we've all taken better pictures, but the point is the hair color, so you can make your own judgement.
Now she wants to color her hair. Go weigh in on this one or her site and let her know what you think.
Redheads unite!
6.24.2006
Whose best friend?
... the dogs came back - the very next day,
the dogs came back, we thought they were a-goners
but the dogs came back they just couldn't stay away...
(inspired by "The Cat Came Back" by Harry S. Miller)
We used to have one beagle. Smart, sweet and playful, she was sometimes a handful, but mostly a good dog. Then we decided to go ahead and breed her.
(Bad Idea)
(Don't Do It)
So she had a litter of 5 little puppies. Cute little puppies. SUPER CUTE little puppies. 3 of them went off to live in other homes and two of them stayed with us. We had 3 kids, now we had 3 beagles.
(STOOOOOOPID)
Mama beagle was a very good mommy for a couple of weeks. Then she decided to get testy and crankity and crotchity and any other grumpy type adjective you can come up with. She was a PITB. period. But the puppies were cute, so ok.
But puppies take time and training takes time and no one had time (read "I", since the only person even remotely inclined to train them would have been me) to train these puppies. Snickers (mom) was content to leave the kids alone, Oreo was a little high strung and shook like a leaf if any of them or a kid got yelled at. Rolo was placid, laid back and STOOOOPID. But he was super great about letting LK climb all over him and pull his ears and stuff, so he got lots of slack for that.
Beagles roam. They escape. One of them frequently comes back injured. Let me tell you - it is NOT worth it! We found a nice home with some older kids for Oreo when they all got out once and this family found him. When we went to pick him up, he was clearly preferring their company, and they confessed they'd been looking for a dog. As being the weak link in a threesome here clearly made him anxious, we agreed to let them adopt Oreo. I haven't seen him since, but the last time I talked to the family, they were enjoying him, but not his escapes.
Many escapes later, we have misdiagnosed a broken leg, had to have surgery to insert a drain into a wound that also required stitches, picked them up from relatively remote locations and removed more ticks than I care to think about. Two nights ago, they got out again. It's a sure sign they're gone when you go to feed them and they don't come running. I sent the teenager and friends out looking, as they are usually the culprits in leaving the gate or doors open, and after they came up short-handed, LK and I went out in the car. Nothing. Even the next day, nothing.
DH was clearly and enthusiastically supporting their escape and was hoping we wouldn't get a phone call. I told him I would be calling the pound on Monday just in case, because I just can't handle the consequences, but I have to admit, I was kind of hoping someone would just think they were so cute they'd keep them and to hell with us.
The calls came, last night, about 2 hours apart from the college nearby.
sigh.
So, today it was off to Pet Foods Express (THANK YOU for installing those dog washes!!!) for a bath, remove ticks AGAIN, and wash their beds. again.
And whose best friends are these?
Anyone want a beagle? or two?
6.22.2006
3/4 home
Working on a Full House
We have 3 out of 4 children under one roof again. Since graduation in May, DDD has completed a business course for non-business majors, and then took some time to play. DH flew out last weekend to move her back and drive with her for the 17.5 hour (according to Magellen, which has been probably the best gift DH has ever gotten from me) trip back in her little CRV.
She's been pretty much asleep ever since.
Unsettling rumor - oldest son may come back again. YIKES! He has to move by next week and hasn't found a place yet. DH kindly offered him our garage, as strangely enough, our bedrooms are full right now, and there just aren't terribly great "double up" opportunities when your kids are as spaced out in age and gender as ours are.
So we're at 3/4 full right now. Let's hope it stays that way!
Bug Detective
LK continues to have an uncanny knack of finding spiders everywhere. But there's a twist to it now. We are no longer allowed to smoosh them with a kleenex or a shoe or anything like that. We must now trap it and put it "in the garden". She also finds "rollie pollies" and is their primary mode of transport from the front of our house to the rear. My plaintive attempts to get her to leave them alone go unanswered. Even when I say they might get sad if they can't find their mommy or daddy. I thought that was pretty harsh, but it doesn't seem to faze her. She just says they'll find them in the garden. Wherever that garden might be.
Driver Frustration
BK took his first driving test this week - I say first because all the males in my family have had to take it more than once. Many moons ago, his father, bless his little 16 year old heart, took it 5 times before passing. Anyway, BK's examiner spoke to me about it, saying he was doing really well until he had to make a right turn on a red light and didn't come to a complete stop. Made me think of all the flights I've taken where you are asked to remain seated until the airplane has come to a "full and complete" stop. How many times have you seen compliance on that?
But I digress. He's convinced he did stop, but I betcha next time he definitely comes to a full and complete stop! I felt bad afterwards for not warning him to exaggerate everything just a little. I tried to think of everything (both hands on wheel at all times, use mirrors, but don't forget to turn your head too, etc. etc.) but I left out the exaggeration tip. He's a pretty darn good driver, too. Let that be a warning to y'all teenager parents!
We have 3 out of 4 children under one roof again. Since graduation in May, DDD has completed a business course for non-business majors, and then took some time to play. DH flew out last weekend to move her back and drive with her for the 17.5 hour (according to Magellen, which has been probably the best gift DH has ever gotten from me) trip back in her little CRV.
She's been pretty much asleep ever since.
Unsettling rumor - oldest son may come back again. YIKES! He has to move by next week and hasn't found a place yet. DH kindly offered him our garage, as strangely enough, our bedrooms are full right now, and there just aren't terribly great "double up" opportunities when your kids are as spaced out in age and gender as ours are.
So we're at 3/4 full right now. Let's hope it stays that way!
Bug Detective
LK continues to have an uncanny knack of finding spiders everywhere. But there's a twist to it now. We are no longer allowed to smoosh them with a kleenex or a shoe or anything like that. We must now trap it and put it "in the garden". She also finds "rollie pollies" and is their primary mode of transport from the front of our house to the rear. My plaintive attempts to get her to leave them alone go unanswered. Even when I say they might get sad if they can't find their mommy or daddy. I thought that was pretty harsh, but it doesn't seem to faze her. She just says they'll find them in the garden. Wherever that garden might be.
Driver Frustration
BK took his first driving test this week - I say first because all the males in my family have had to take it more than once. Many moons ago, his father, bless his little 16 year old heart, took it 5 times before passing. Anyway, BK's examiner spoke to me about it, saying he was doing really well until he had to make a right turn on a red light and didn't come to a complete stop. Made me think of all the flights I've taken where you are asked to remain seated until the airplane has come to a "full and complete" stop. How many times have you seen compliance on that?
But I digress. He's convinced he did stop, but I betcha next time he definitely comes to a full and complete stop! I felt bad afterwards for not warning him to exaggerate everything just a little. I tried to think of everything (both hands on wheel at all times, use mirrors, but don't forget to turn your head too, etc. etc.) but I left out the exaggeration tip. He's a pretty darn good driver, too. Let that be a warning to y'all teenager parents!
6.16.2006
Sleep positions
I've posted a couple of times now about the stealth snuggler. It can be a problem now and then, as she is typically an active sleeper, so it can fairly ruin a good night's sleep. After all this time, though, we've worked out some positions that work. Most of the time. And that got me thinking about the positions we all sleep in.
I've always been a fetal position sleeper. I think it's particularly because of my scoliosis - my back always hurts in the morning if I sleep on my back or front. I think the position gives my back the best amount of support with the least amount of stress. Or maybe I'm just making that up. According to this article, 41% of us sleep the same way I do. If it's right, then I'm also tough on the outside, but sensitive at heart. Like the rest of the 41%. Safe guess.
DH sleeps fully splayed out, typically with at least one arm over his face. I've noticed this is a very good position for snoring. It's called the freefall and supposedly, these people make good friends. OK. maybe. But DH doesn't really hang out with "friends". He's not a loner, really (although BK frequently teases him - and us - about our lack of friends), but he's not a joiner, drinker, sportster or anything like that. He's his mother's son in that way - a homebody. He is a very good snorer, though. I'm working on making him a little tougher on the outside while maintaining his sensitive core. ("GOD you're noisy - would you PLEASE turn on your side??")
Back to the stealth snuggler - I got on the subject because we've worked out this position where I'm on my side, she's on her side and we're back to back. She is a toucher, so her little butt is pretty much snuggled into my lower back and her head is just kind of below mine. It works really well right now, and we both get some sleep this way. I call it "buttupagainst". Then, I'm cruising around websites here and there, and what do I find? Once again, someone's gotten there before me. Way before me.
I don't think I should try to become an inventor.
Back to the point again... (What WAS the point?) Anyway – that blogger’s post (from “weirdbabe”) from a long time ago was pretty fun to read and it got me to thinking about how after just about 30 years of marriage (it will be 30 years in August. I'm astounded. But I'm not that old. Really.) our sleep positions have changed. I'm still a fetus (or "foetus" if you prefer) style sleeper and always have been, but I'd have to say at the early stages of marriage, every night would start with "Spoons" or "Sweetheart's cradle" (gag - what a name) for most of the night. After some period of years, I guess, it's more like "leg hug" but sometimes it's "arm hug". Now that we've been married longer than we were ever single, it's been more of a kiss, a snuggle and off to your side of the bed where you can splay or curl up as you desire. We were ok with that – after all, you have to expect some changes in 3 decades.
After having 3 children who mostly slept in their own beds, we were not really prepared for a snuggleupagus. I'm not a particular advocate of "co-sleeping" - I think every family has their own preferences, and like everything else, what works fine for one child doesn't necessarily work for another. But I don't mind sharing the bed - there's plenty of space, and I also know there will come a day when she WANTS to sleep in her own room. I don't think we necessarily have to force the issue, as long as we're all getting some sleep. But she’s such a snuggler – we find that if the one she’s attached to gets up for any reason in the night, she will almost immediately go attach to the other. (I’ve found this useful some nights…!) But sometimes, she’ll attach to both. One of us will get a head, the other gets kicked. So that’s why the buttupagainst works so well for us. She gets her connection and we get some sleep.
I wonder what kind of sleeper she'll be when she's married... She obviously loves to have some part of her touching someone else while she sleeps (we think that's why she can't stay in her own bed to begin with), so maybe she'll be a pursuer, or a honeymoon hugger. No matter what, her special someone will need to be ok with constant contact!
And interestingly enough, we’re finding that when she does stay in her own bed, we end up sleeping closer together again. And I guess after 30 years, that is all right with me.
What kind of sleeper are you?
(yes, I’m fishing for comments – it’s been a little slow lately!!! Besides - I'm curious.
and sensitive.
and tough on the outside.)
I've always been a fetal position sleeper. I think it's particularly because of my scoliosis - my back always hurts in the morning if I sleep on my back or front. I think the position gives my back the best amount of support with the least amount of stress. Or maybe I'm just making that up. According to this article, 41% of us sleep the same way I do. If it's right, then I'm also tough on the outside, but sensitive at heart. Like the rest of the 41%. Safe guess.
DH sleeps fully splayed out, typically with at least one arm over his face. I've noticed this is a very good position for snoring. It's called the freefall and supposedly, these people make good friends. OK. maybe. But DH doesn't really hang out with "friends". He's not a loner, really (although BK frequently teases him - and us - about our lack of friends), but he's not a joiner, drinker, sportster or anything like that. He's his mother's son in that way - a homebody. He is a very good snorer, though. I'm working on making him a little tougher on the outside while maintaining his sensitive core. ("GOD you're noisy - would you PLEASE turn on your side??")
Back to the stealth snuggler - I got on the subject because we've worked out this position where I'm on my side, she's on her side and we're back to back. She is a toucher, so her little butt is pretty much snuggled into my lower back and her head is just kind of below mine. It works really well right now, and we both get some sleep this way. I call it "buttupagainst". Then, I'm cruising around websites here and there, and what do I find? Once again, someone's gotten there before me. Way before me.
I don't think I should try to become an inventor.
Back to the point again... (What WAS the point?) Anyway – that blogger’s post (from “weirdbabe”) from a long time ago was pretty fun to read and it got me to thinking about how after just about 30 years of marriage (it will be 30 years in August. I'm astounded. But I'm not that old. Really.) our sleep positions have changed. I'm still a fetus (or "foetus" if you prefer) style sleeper and always have been, but I'd have to say at the early stages of marriage, every night would start with "Spoons" or "Sweetheart's cradle" (gag - what a name) for most of the night. After some period of years, I guess, it's more like "leg hug" but sometimes it's "arm hug". Now that we've been married longer than we were ever single, it's been more of a kiss, a snuggle and off to your side of the bed where you can splay or curl up as you desire. We were ok with that – after all, you have to expect some changes in 3 decades.
After having 3 children who mostly slept in their own beds, we were not really prepared for a snuggleupagus. I'm not a particular advocate of "co-sleeping" - I think every family has their own preferences, and like everything else, what works fine for one child doesn't necessarily work for another. But I don't mind sharing the bed - there's plenty of space, and I also know there will come a day when she WANTS to sleep in her own room. I don't think we necessarily have to force the issue, as long as we're all getting some sleep. But she’s such a snuggler – we find that if the one she’s attached to gets up for any reason in the night, she will almost immediately go attach to the other. (I’ve found this useful some nights…!) But sometimes, she’ll attach to both. One of us will get a head, the other gets kicked. So that’s why the buttupagainst works so well for us. She gets her connection and we get some sleep.
I wonder what kind of sleeper she'll be when she's married... She obviously loves to have some part of her touching someone else while she sleeps (we think that's why she can't stay in her own bed to begin with), so maybe she'll be a pursuer, or a honeymoon hugger. No matter what, her special someone will need to be ok with constant contact!
And interestingly enough, we’re finding that when she does stay in her own bed, we end up sleeping closer together again. And I guess after 30 years, that is all right with me.
What kind of sleeper are you?
(yes, I’m fishing for comments – it’s been a little slow lately!!! Besides - I'm curious.
and sensitive.
and tough on the outside.)
6.14.2006
Some things are just hard
Last night:
me: Did you have fun at the zoo with A&B?
LK: ummmm no. Well, ... yeah.
me: What was your favorite part?
LK: I liked the zebras and the bugs ... (Insert lots of animals) and the fast ride (small child's rollercoaster) and the train to go home. (pause) But I didn't like the sharing.
It's hard to be 4.
me: Did you have fun at the zoo with A&B?
LK: ummmm no. Well, ... yeah.
me: What was your favorite part?
LK: I liked the zebras and the bugs ... (Insert lots of animals) and the fast ride (small child's rollercoaster) and the train to go home. (pause) But I didn't like the sharing.
It's hard to be 4.
6.11.2006
Younger Next Year
A colleague of mine from work finished the AIDS Lifecycle today. He rode his bike along with several other friends (like 2,200 of them) from San Francisco to Los Angeles. I am in awe of this. They pitched and slept in tents all the way down the California coast - and biked some 585 miles in 7 days.
He says he really started thinking seriously about doing SOMETHING after reading a book, Younger Next Year, about how to live the last 1/3 of your life in a healthy, happy and more fulfilled way. I looked it up and found they have a website! (Of course, I have a website, so why wouldn't this guy?) But I still want to read the book as it was so inspiring to Allen.
He does work out regularly, and found himself enjoying a "spinning" class. I think that's what started the whole biking thing. Now I've always loved riding my bike, and am still a bit traumatized by the thing being ripped off (another story that I might just skip), but I think perhaps a 100 mile ride would be my limit - and that's after some considerable training.
Check out his website - if you feel so inclined, you can even increase his funds raised! But mostly, get inspired by this man who is actually doing something to make a difference. He went a little above and beyond as well, posting some of his original creative writing on this blog about the AIDS ride - just to share a bit more of himself with those who pledged support for him.
Way to go, Allen - consider yourself an inspiration.
He says he really started thinking seriously about doing SOMETHING after reading a book, Younger Next Year, about how to live the last 1/3 of your life in a healthy, happy and more fulfilled way. I looked it up and found they have a website! (Of course, I have a website, so why wouldn't this guy?) But I still want to read the book as it was so inspiring to Allen.
He does work out regularly, and found himself enjoying a "spinning" class. I think that's what started the whole biking thing. Now I've always loved riding my bike, and am still a bit traumatized by the thing being ripped off (another story that I might just skip), but I think perhaps a 100 mile ride would be my limit - and that's after some considerable training.
Check out his website - if you feel so inclined, you can even increase his funds raised! But mostly, get inspired by this man who is actually doing something to make a difference. He went a little above and beyond as well, posting some of his original creative writing on this blog about the AIDS ride - just to share a bit more of himself with those who pledged support for him.
Way to go, Allen - consider yourself an inspiration.
6.10.2006
A new look at the blasted video games
The dude is practicing for his career as a neurosurgeon!
Phew... I feel better.
Phew... I feel better.
6.08.2006
6.03.2006
Did it have to be such a hard slap?
Just when you think you’ll never blog again, because the last entry was all sappy and filled with happy and pride and all the good stuff, and if you write something else, it will be all frustrated and can’t-we-get-through-high-school-with-ANY-decent-grades?-and-stuff-like-that, life shows up and slaps you around a little.
This is my next door neighbor’s house. I got a frantic call from a neighbor across the street yesterday. She’d gathered my dogs and taken them to her house but couldn’t find my husband, whose car was in front of the house. My neighbor’s house was on fire. BIG fire. OhmyGOD fire. I started calling DH’s cell phone, home phone, work line, etc etc. Let me tell you – you tend not to think about whether to take the cell with you if you see flames out of the house next door and you go try to keep the roof wet with a little old garden hose until the fire dept gets here. But that freaks the loved ones out a little, so if you’re ever in this situation, grab the cell, OK?
The house is a complete loss. The fire stayed fairly high, so you’d think there might be some furniture that survived. Not so much. All the smoke and water does a pretty good job on that stuff. The neighbors were out at the time, and had just the clothes on their backs – one of them had borrowed shoes. But no one was hurt, the HUGE redwood tree in between our houses got pretty singed, but didn’t explode. And all we got was a cracked window. (We think the heat + the water from the fire hoses cracked it.)
Anyway, before I got home, I’d talked to the DH and heard the whole story, so the drive wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. But I had to park a couple of blocks away because there were 8 really big red trucks parked along the way, with 5 of the ambulance sized trucks and 4 cop cars there for good measure. I’m still not sure what they all did, but if it took all that effort to keep the fire contained, that’s just fine with me!
Anyway – I’m still frustrated and worried about the teenager who just can’t seem to put any effort into anything, but my outlook has been refreshed. My blessings have been counted. Again.
This is my next door neighbor’s house. I got a frantic call from a neighbor across the street yesterday. She’d gathered my dogs and taken them to her house but couldn’t find my husband, whose car was in front of the house. My neighbor’s house was on fire. BIG fire. OhmyGOD fire. I started calling DH’s cell phone, home phone, work line, etc etc. Let me tell you – you tend not to think about whether to take the cell with you if you see flames out of the house next door and you go try to keep the roof wet with a little old garden hose until the fire dept gets here. But that freaks the loved ones out a little, so if you’re ever in this situation, grab the cell, OK?
The house is a complete loss. The fire stayed fairly high, so you’d think there might be some furniture that survived. Not so much. All the smoke and water does a pretty good job on that stuff. The neighbors were out at the time, and had just the clothes on their backs – one of them had borrowed shoes. But no one was hurt, the HUGE redwood tree in between our houses got pretty singed, but didn’t explode. And all we got was a cracked window. (We think the heat + the water from the fire hoses cracked it.)
Anyway, before I got home, I’d talked to the DH and heard the whole story, so the drive wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. But I had to park a couple of blocks away because there were 8 really big red trucks parked along the way, with 5 of the ambulance sized trucks and 4 cop cars there for good measure. I’m still not sure what they all did, but if it took all that effort to keep the fire contained, that’s just fine with me!
Anyway – I’m still frustrated and worried about the teenager who just can’t seem to put any effort into anything, but my outlook has been refreshed. My blessings have been counted. Again.
5.16.2006
Just on time
She turned over, sat up and crawled on time. I think those were the last things she did “on time”. She didn’t feel like walking until she was 16 months or so (she took her first steps around 13 months, but she must have realized what was ahead, because that was it for several more months). But she potty trained herself between 18-19 months. And she was singing “Once Upon a Dream” (Sleeping Beauty) and “Somewhere Out There” (American Tail) in their entirety before she was 2. Early or late, late or early – we never knew what we’d get from her. But we always knew there was a light in there. A special light. An inextinguishable light.She showed us that light in her daily activities, in her near constant songs, in her laugh, in her silliness. We saw how she looked up to her big brother when she was two. We saw her excitement when her 1st grade teacher put her article in the “Daily News” every few days.
We also saw her disappointment when she just couldn’t run as fast as the other kids, or when she wasn’t exactly the first kid to get picked for a team. We saw her devastation when she got a D in reading in 4th grade. Apparently she hadn’t realized the teacher actually wanted her to HAND IN those book reports.
We saw her careful gentleness around her prematurely born brother, and how she has watched, cajoled, played and nurtured him ever since. And now that he is several inches taller than her, we watch how she teases and loves him and how that is returned in kind.
We saw a reasonably “popular” (I hate that word…) and well accepted child opt to leave that particular clique of girls and hang out with quite the opposite group of girls, simply because one of the “popular” girls was really mean. That was a very hard thing to do.
We saw the light find the stage. We knew it was there – we ALWAYS knew it was there. She had a leading role in her school plays in 4th and 5th grade. It was there. She opted to learn an instrument instead of sing in the choir in intermediate school. She was a big fat OK at it, and was encouraged to keep at it instead of switching to choir in 8th grade. But she followed her heart and ended up with a solo or two at the end of the year in choir. Her director praised her for picking the right “instrument”. She has always known best.
We watched her in high school – finding her way through the social maze, the hormone haze, the academics, detention. Detention, not for any kind of disrespect or behavioral problem. Well, maybe it was a little behavioral – what else is tardiness? Tardy. Always tardy. After school detention, and then when that avenue was exhausted, Saturday school. Remember the Breakfast Club? She was there. She wasn’t any of those stereotypical kids, though. She was just the good kid – there with the troublemakers because she can’t get out of the house on time. Still can’t to this day.
But above and beyond all that was the music. Oh the music. The music saw her through it all. She sang, she danced, she still played soccer and participated in the youth group. She tried, but did not get to be a cheerleader. She tried, but didn’t make the “chamber choir” her junior year. She was devastated. She didn’t get decent roles in her high school plays. She was devastated. She did get VERY good roles in her summer musical conservatory programs. She kept the light shining. She knew – she always knew best. She knows how to persevere. She knows how to take someone’s opinion and take what’s important about it and leave the ugliness behind. Turning a “you can’t do this” into an “I’ll show you I can” is her specialty. And she has.
continued...
I watched the nurturer in her as she encouraged her mom and dad to get their foster care license and as she fed, changed and loved the little girl who ended up in our care. I saw her pose happily for pictures with a little baby who could have passed for her own, but for the obvious lack of pregnancy. The light never flickered. The light never cared about that. 
We watched that light brighten up a stadium filled with black gowned and crowned bodies. We beamed with a little light of our own as the president of the college congratulated and introduced the 2006 graduates from CU. We (ok, I) took about a thousand pictures to memorialize the event. All her living grandparents made the trip to celebrate this achievement. Plenty of aunts, uncles, cousins & their families joined us to celebrate as well. Some traveled from quite a ways away. This was special and we all knew it.
DDD graduated from college. On time. Not early, not late. She hasn’t been on time for much since those first few months. But here she is. On time. Perfectly on time. What a kid.
more grad thoughts
The smile brightens my world.
The light shines brightly.
The future is limitless.
She is going to reach for the stars. And I think she just might grab one.
Congratulations, DDD. You have done an incredible job in these last 4 years of college and we are SOOOOOOOOO very proud of you.
5.06.2006
Teaching the fine art of shopping.
Today I took LK shopping with me. I had a christening gift and an engagement gift to buy. I would check for something cute for graduation as well, since we are leaving Thursday for
my. first. college. graduation. where. the. graduate. is. MY. kid.
We found something kinda kitchy and cute for the engaged couple, stopped by Jamba Juice for a couple of kid size jambas(how can you pass on that?), stopped by Williams and Sonoma, who have a VERY cute little set of princess cookie cutters and cookie decorating kit. They also have pink spatulas. And pink oven mitts, and pink aprons, and pink mixing bowls, and pink... but I digress (who wouldn't - with ALL THAT PINK!) Then on to Restoration Hardware where we found absolutely nothing to interest us, then Smith & Hawkins, which I have never been to, but I love their catalog. Ditto on the nothing. I'm not a good shopper. Never have been. But I've heard through the years that my kids wish they were better shoppers and that they'd gone shopping more, so I'm making an effort. (OK, that was mostly my older daughter, but my younger son is a pathetic shopper, so I think she was speaking on his behalf as well.)
Then we took the LONG way to the Hallmark store, visiting a shoe store, the Build-a-Bear store. the personalized gifty thing store and Claire's (talk about SPARKLY!!!) where a young girl was getting her ears pierced.
"Why's she doing that?"
"Because she wants to wear earrings in her ears."
"Can I get my ears pursed too?"
"It hurts to get that done - they put the earrings right through your earlobe, right here..."
(showing her where her earlobe is)
"Uhhh, let's go"
We found dolls in the Hallmark store who spoke Russian, German, Yiddish, French, Swedish, and Spanish. Lots of cute little smooshy animals (like my favorite "huggy" pillow) and other cute things, but not a hell of a lot of christening and engagement cards. Knowing they were headed for the garbage in a day or two anyway, so not caring much what they looked like, I selected two and we headed for the graduation display. LK immediately lights on to a Mickey Mouse with a mortarboard on his head. DDD's college entrance essay was on her connection to all things Disney, so of course I bought it for LK to give her. (There are Disney stamps on her graduation announcements, too - just how Martha is that???)
Then we start walking back to Pottery Barn, our last stop, taking a detour to pass by every fountain we can find. And Kid's Gap, of course. They have very cute slippers there. I want a pair. So does LK.
"But you never wear slippers."
"But I WILL wear slippers."
"But you always go barefoot - you don't like shoes on your feet at home. You don't even like socks!"
"But I REALLY like these slippers. I will wear them. All the time."
"I don't think so."
"Oh, I think these slippers are SOOOOOO beautiful."
I bought the slippers.
After our last stop at PB where we bought the original thing I saw and liked for my niece and her fiancee, we went to the car.
LK lasted about 3-4 minutes before she was slumped in her seat, snoring.
I'm raising another shopper.
my. first. college. graduation. where. the. graduate. is. MY. kid.
We found something kinda kitchy and cute for the engaged couple, stopped by Jamba Juice for a couple of kid size jambas(how can you pass on that?), stopped by Williams and Sonoma, who have a VERY cute little set of princess cookie cutters and cookie decorating kit. They also have pink spatulas. And pink oven mitts, and pink aprons, and pink mixing bowls, and pink... but I digress (who wouldn't - with ALL THAT PINK!) Then on to Restoration Hardware where we found absolutely nothing to interest us, then Smith & Hawkins, which I have never been to, but I love their catalog. Ditto on the nothing. I'm not a good shopper. Never have been. But I've heard through the years that my kids wish they were better shoppers and that they'd gone shopping more, so I'm making an effort. (OK, that was mostly my older daughter, but my younger son is a pathetic shopper, so I think she was speaking on his behalf as well.)
Then we took the LONG way to the Hallmark store, visiting a shoe store, the Build-a-Bear store. the personalized gifty thing store and Claire's (talk about SPARKLY!!!) where a young girl was getting her ears pierced.
"Why's she doing that?"
"Because she wants to wear earrings in her ears."
"Can I get my ears pursed too?"
"It hurts to get that done - they put the earrings right through your earlobe, right here..."
(showing her where her earlobe is)
"Uhhh, let's go"
We found dolls in the Hallmark store who spoke Russian, German, Yiddish, French, Swedish, and Spanish. Lots of cute little smooshy animals (like my favorite "huggy" pillow) and other cute things, but not a hell of a lot of christening and engagement cards. Knowing they were headed for the garbage in a day or two anyway, so not caring much what they looked like, I selected two and we headed for the graduation display. LK immediately lights on to a Mickey Mouse with a mortarboard on his head. DDD's college entrance essay was on her connection to all things Disney, so of course I bought it for LK to give her. (There are Disney stamps on her graduation announcements, too - just how Martha is that???)
Then we start walking back to Pottery Barn, our last stop, taking a detour to pass by every fountain we can find. And Kid's Gap, of course. They have very cute slippers there. I want a pair. So does LK.
"But you never wear slippers."
"But I WILL wear slippers."
"But you always go barefoot - you don't like shoes on your feet at home. You don't even like socks!"
"But I REALLY like these slippers. I will wear them. All the time."
"I don't think so."
"Oh, I think these slippers are SOOOOOO beautiful."
I bought the slippers.
After our last stop at PB where we bought the original thing I saw and liked for my niece and her fiancee, we went to the car.
LK lasted about 3-4 minutes before she was slumped in her seat, snoring.
I'm raising another shopper.
5.05.2006
Yes, I can rant
I know it will be hard to believe, but I can rant. REALLY.
I got a progress report from big K's Spanish teacher yesterday. It's a nice synopsis of what this school year has been like for us. Yay - doing great! Good Job! You suck! No driving! Oh good, it's back up to a C - keep it up! What the HELL is wrong with you?? and so on... So I finally ranted a good one at him as I forwarded his [lack of] progress report.... and I'm just strange enough to share it with all my two internet friends.
BK -
You went from an A to a C+ in one week (I know you're awfully close to a B-, but still that's a HUGE drop in one week). Dude - you HAVE to get your homework DONE and GET CREDIT for it. You also need to KNOW WHEN YOU ARE HAVING A TEST - and STUDY FOR IT. If you can't manage that, you need to stop ref'ing until school is out, and you can expect itunes, myspace, IM and computer games to be off limits. You are WAY TOO OLD to be pulling this kind of crap. You know what the assignments are, you know they are tracked, you know it hurts no one but YOU when you blow them off. You also know (because I am NOT quiet about this stuff) that it is unacceptable and FRUSTRATING to have to babysit you and your homework and deal with your lack of responsibility. (Just a personal note - I am FAR less irritable when I don't feel the need to nag...) This is way beyond ADD or maturity. This is lack of discipline and willingness to do what you need to do. You absolutely HAVE to develop this within yourself NOW, because there are enough distractions and other challenges to deal with in college. If you are already predisposed to this kind of attitude towards your classes, you set yourself up for failure from the start. That just isn't the way to have a good experience - and it CAN be a good experience.
OK. That's all for now. You know the rest - 2nd verse, same as the first.
Yep - when I get a little bug in my bonnet. I can rant. Sigh.
I got a progress report from big K's Spanish teacher yesterday. It's a nice synopsis of what this school year has been like for us. Yay - doing great! Good Job! You suck! No driving! Oh good, it's back up to a C - keep it up! What the HELL is wrong with you?? and so on... So I finally ranted a good one at him as I forwarded his [lack of] progress report.... and I'm just strange enough to share it with all my two internet friends.
BK -
You went from an A to a C+ in one week (I know you're awfully close to a B-, but still that's a HUGE drop in one week). Dude - you HAVE to get your homework DONE and GET CREDIT for it. You also need to KNOW WHEN YOU ARE HAVING A TEST - and STUDY FOR IT. If you can't manage that, you need to stop ref'ing until school is out, and you can expect itunes, myspace, IM and computer games to be off limits. You are WAY TOO OLD to be pulling this kind of crap. You know what the assignments are, you know they are tracked, you know it hurts no one but YOU when you blow them off. You also know (because I am NOT quiet about this stuff) that it is unacceptable and FRUSTRATING to have to babysit you and your homework and deal with your lack of responsibility. (Just a personal note - I am FAR less irritable when I don't feel the need to nag...) This is way beyond ADD or maturity. This is lack of discipline and willingness to do what you need to do. You absolutely HAVE to develop this within yourself NOW, because there are enough distractions and other challenges to deal with in college. If you are already predisposed to this kind of attitude towards your classes, you set yourself up for failure from the start. That just isn't the way to have a good experience - and it CAN be a good experience.
OK. That's all for now. You know the rest - 2nd verse, same as the first.
Yep - when I get a little bug in my bonnet. I can rant. Sigh.
4.27.2006
4.25.2006
How many of you have a lascivious daughter?
According to Mark Collins, writing for the Daily Camera in Boulder, my daughter can pull off "lascivious". How many of you can say that? And how many of you would brag about that?
Heh heh... (put whatever accent you want to that!)
(Heavily paraphrased, because after all, it is MY blog and it is all about MY offspring.)
"The show boasts several terrific performances, ... [DDD] (as a lascivious Catesby)...
...Changing the gender of the Catesby character from male to female works due to [DDD]'s believable performance as an opportunistic hanger-on. ...
...Weitz's cast brings humor to the dark show in other unexpected places, such as in Catesby's sleazy flirtations..."
Yep, that's my gal - the sleazy, flirtatious, lascivious tragic comedian.
I'm so proud.
Heh heh... (put whatever accent you want to that!)
(Heavily paraphrased, because after all, it is MY blog and it is all about MY offspring.)
"The show boasts several terrific performances, ... [DDD] (as a lascivious Catesby)...
...Changing the gender of the Catesby character from male to female works due to [DDD]'s believable performance as an opportunistic hanger-on. ...
...Weitz's cast brings humor to the dark show in other unexpected places, such as in Catesby's sleazy flirtations..."
Yep, that's my gal - the sleazy, flirtatious, lascivious tragic comedian.
I'm so proud.
4.19.2006
Sleeping Disorder
My husband and I have a sleeping disorder. It's called snugglyitis. It's been 6 months or so since I last chatted about my stealth snuggler, but I woke up the other day to this sight and knew it had to be shared.
This is where the large sleeper gets squished into a little sliver of bed by Ms. Snuggleupagus and manage somehow to grab some sleep on that little 6 inches of king size bed. We don't know how exactly she manages this, but it's a recurring theme. We also don't know why picking her up and moving her is so darn hard in the middle of the night that we opt for "sleeping" on that sliver of bed.
A day or two later - here's what my side of the bed looked like when I rolled out of it. She's an equal opportunity snuggler. and yeah - when you're on the edge, you can't sit up and stretch or anything, you just roll out. But I can't complain - I had maybe 6 inches of PILLOW! Almost unheard of. She still gets stickers when she stays in bed all night, and she's still proud enough to brag when it happens, "I stayed in my OWN bed ALL NIGHT!!!"
But it doesn't happen nearly enough.
This is where the large sleeper gets squished into a little sliver of bed by Ms. Snuggleupagus and manage somehow to grab some sleep on that little 6 inches of king size bed. We don't know how exactly she manages this, but it's a recurring theme. We also don't know why picking her up and moving her is so darn hard in the middle of the night that we opt for "sleeping" on that sliver of bed.
A day or two later - here's what my side of the bed looked like when I rolled out of it. She's an equal opportunity snuggler. and yeah - when you're on the edge, you can't sit up and stretch or anything, you just roll out. But I can't complain - I had maybe 6 inches of PILLOW! Almost unheard of. She still gets stickers when she stays in bed all night, and she's still proud enough to brag when it happens, "I stayed in my OWN bed ALL NIGHT!!!"
But it doesn't happen nearly enough.
4.12.2006
Home decor, 4 y/o style
We found these in our well worn hallway recently, so "dey could help us to don't get lost!"
edited note (I can't seem to get this Picasa to blogger thing to work right so the right caption is with the right picture. It looks fine in the preview!... I'm giving up right now, but might just be back to try again. AAArgh.)
edited again - at least I have the right captions with the right pictures now - what a pain. Gonna have to go get me a different photo service or something...
This note tells us which direction to go - we always get lost in this intersection between bedroom door and bathroom.
And sometimes a white (cream, really) wall just needs a little gingerbread lady to spice things up.
This wall needed a bandaid. Not sure why, but it's true this particular hallway has seen its share of bumps and bruises.
Here's another directional device. I think it had a prior life as a sombrero, but I can't be sure...
Anyone know a good housepainter?
edited note (I can't seem to get this Picasa to blogger thing to work right so the right caption is with the right picture. It looks fine in the preview!... I'm giving up right now, but might just be back to try again. AAArgh.)
edited again - at least I have the right captions with the right pictures now - what a pain. Gonna have to go get me a different photo service or something...
This note tells us which direction to go - we always get lost in this intersection between bedroom door and bathroom.
And sometimes a white (cream, really) wall just needs a little gingerbread lady to spice things up.
This wall needed a bandaid. Not sure why, but it's true this particular hallway has seen its share of bumps and bruises.
Here's another directional device. I think it had a prior life as a sombrero, but I can't be sure...
Anyone know a good housepainter?
4.11.2006
sigh. double sigh...
So if you visit my l’il sis’ blog as well as mine, you’ll already know her most recent news. It was bound to happen, but I can’t help being happy for her, sad for me. Far be it from me to even hint that moving is a bad idea – big sis and I are army brats and moved around most of our lives. Li’l sis came along after military retirement and spent her whole childhood and teen life in the same house. And her whole life in the Bay Area.
After getting married, we moved to El Paso for a year, traveled the country in a trailer for 3 years, then spent 5 years in the Chicago area, back to the SF Bay Area for a couple of years, then off again to Chicago for another 5 or 6. And all the moves were good ones, either financially, or personally. So we certainly have our own history of leaving all our loved ones and taking off. But having moved back 15 years ago now, and seen the departure of a big sis, little brother, little sis, (and all the nieces and nephews too) and finally parents from DH’s side, and big sis and father on my side, there are precious few of us left, and this pretty much wipes out our family presence here. DH has one brother firmly planted in the area. That’s it.
I knew, when we were the ones leaving and setting up lives elsewhere, that it sucked to be left behind, but geez – they all had the rest of the family when we left! Now we’re back and everyone else leaves. WHAT does that tell you?
That’s what I think too.
Sigh.
After getting married, we moved to El Paso for a year, traveled the country in a trailer for 3 years, then spent 5 years in the Chicago area, back to the SF Bay Area for a couple of years, then off again to Chicago for another 5 or 6. And all the moves were good ones, either financially, or personally. So we certainly have our own history of leaving all our loved ones and taking off. But having moved back 15 years ago now, and seen the departure of a big sis, little brother, little sis, (and all the nieces and nephews too) and finally parents from DH’s side, and big sis and father on my side, there are precious few of us left, and this pretty much wipes out our family presence here. DH has one brother firmly planted in the area. That’s it.
I knew, when we were the ones leaving and setting up lives elsewhere, that it sucked to be left behind, but geez – they all had the rest of the family when we left! Now we’re back and everyone else leaves. WHAT does that tell you?
That’s what I think too.
Sigh.
4.03.2006
Daylight Saving(s) Time
Daylight Saving Time snuck up on me again this year. I remember it being this huge news item in years past. This year it almost got by me completely. A random email from a friend that said “spring forward” at the end was the trigger event. Curious, I went to my home page, the SF Chron, and found NOTHING regarding the time change. So I went to my personal email home page and found NOTHING! You’d think they’d have this huge clock on their first page with something akin to
“The crazies in the world want to plunge the early morning risers into pitch black again. Change your clocks accordingly”
But no – nothing to clue me in. And I stopped my home delivery of the newspaper several months ago, after realizing we took it out of its plastic raincoat only to chuck it directly into our recycling bin nine times out of ten. (I still miss it occasionally, but not enough to warrant the waste – nor apparently, enough to go out and buy an individual one.)
So, off to google Daylight Savings Time and found that indeed, friend was right, I should spring forward my clocks. Also found that it is not Daylight SavingS time, but rather Daylight Saving Time, with a whole explanation why. I might have known that at one time, but really, who cares… we slept in until 9! Woo hoo! Sarcastic? Maybe a little.
Now I hear that next year, we will spend 8 months in DST and only 4 in ST, thanks to the brainiac in Washington signing some sort of legislation to allow us to become even more ridiculous than we already are. So why do we have ST at all? And if anyone can convince me of the benefit of this tradition we have of changing our clocks twice a year, I’d like to hear from you. And don't pull the farmer thing on me. You don't get extra sunshine by changing a clock.
Oh, and do you think the dogs sleep in on this end of the time change? ha. You don't have dogs.
“The crazies in the world want to plunge the early morning risers into pitch black again. Change your clocks accordingly”
But no – nothing to clue me in. And I stopped my home delivery of the newspaper several months ago, after realizing we took it out of its plastic raincoat only to chuck it directly into our recycling bin nine times out of ten. (I still miss it occasionally, but not enough to warrant the waste – nor apparently, enough to go out and buy an individual one.)
So, off to google Daylight Savings Time and found that indeed, friend was right, I should spring forward my clocks. Also found that it is not Daylight SavingS time, but rather Daylight Saving Time, with a whole explanation why. I might have known that at one time, but really, who cares… we slept in until 9! Woo hoo! Sarcastic? Maybe a little.
Now I hear that next year, we will spend 8 months in DST and only 4 in ST, thanks to the brainiac in Washington signing some sort of legislation to allow us to become even more ridiculous than we already are. So why do we have ST at all? And if anyone can convince me of the benefit of this tradition we have of changing our clocks twice a year, I’d like to hear from you. And don't pull the farmer thing on me. You don't get extra sunshine by changing a clock.
Oh, and do you think the dogs sleep in on this end of the time change? ha. You don't have dogs.
3.31.2006
Random musing
Why is it if you are slightly undressed, the eyes of people you pass will automatically be drawn to that part which is perhaps not dressed appropriately?
haaa - it's not at all as exciting as you think!
I had my SHOES off, walked down the hall, and no less than 3 people looked straight at my feet. Including the Fed Ex dude. Now, people don't typically look straight at my feet when I pass them. At least, I don't think they do. But take my shoes off and they're all agog. Maybe it's like the open zipper phenomena, where everyone is aware of it except the person in question...
At least my socks didn't have holes ... phew.
haaa - it's not at all as exciting as you think!
I had my SHOES off, walked down the hall, and no less than 3 people looked straight at my feet. Including the Fed Ex dude. Now, people don't typically look straight at my feet when I pass them. At least, I don't think they do. But take my shoes off and they're all agog. Maybe it's like the open zipper phenomena, where everyone is aware of it except the person in question...
At least my socks didn't have holes ... phew.
Rain, Rain, Go AWAY!
We are SOOO tired of wet weather. I am not alone in this. I think we all realize we are the biggest wimps in the world for complaining about a little rain (!), but geez - we do not live in the Pacific Northwest, nor the Rainforest, for that matter. Most of us picked this area and put up with the occasional earthquake for a reason!
Looking for the silver lining, I guess, I'm happy we didn't take a trip to Hawaii.
It's a tarnished silver lining.... this miserableness (is that a real word?) continues. (But isn't that l'il Ken just the quintessential weatherman???)
But DDD was here this week for spring break, and that was nice, even though she didn't get any of the sunshine I promised her.
Looking for the silver lining, I guess, I'm happy we didn't take a trip to Hawaii.
It's a tarnished silver lining.... this miserableness (is that a real word?) continues. (But isn't that l'il Ken just the quintessential weatherman???)
But DDD was here this week for spring break, and that was nice, even though she didn't get any of the sunshine I promised her.
3.22.2006
I have a WHAT?
BK has been having some problems for a few months now after one particular hockey game where he either got tripped and fell (that DID happen, but it's not clearly the cause of this injury), or pulled/strained a muscle, or perhaps injured it getting thrown into the boards. Let me tell you, hockey is not a sport for wimps.
Anyway, we've been treating it like a sports injury, ice, ice, more ice, Advil, daily Advil, more ice, compression shorts etc. Doctor at annual exam said - good job, it's nothing torn or broken and not a chronic thing. He says it isn't getting worse, keep on keepin' on. 6 weeks later, he still can't get through an entire game without this leg giving out on him, he's skipped one tournament and a couple of practices, so on to the sports medicine doc we go.
So many big words! As my background is nursing, I do not cower from such things. In fact, I enjoy trying to remember them. But these ortho terms had my poor little brain pretty filled up. All I have now to remember is the physical therapy prescription, which unfortunately, doesn't measure up at all to the conversation.
Lumbar transitional vertebra by x-ray and grade 1 sport exam shows segmental instability and hemipelvis fixation. Needs core stability, glute recruitment, hip flexor training and strengthening.
Damn. Way too simple and clear. I wanted to share the ischial processes and the co-yadayada sacral mwah mwah doohickey angle that's more of an angle than it's supposed to be. It's pretty cool that he has this transitional verterbra which is part of his sacrum, but it wants to be a lumbar vertebra, so it tries, but then it's an extra and the rest of the lumbars don't really want its help at all. It doesn't really get in the way, but it can make things happen oddly. There were a very lot of really big words in that explanation. Reveling in my element, I vowed to relay each one when I got home.
But I have a 52 year old memory, and that means that I can more easily tell you what I ate at my grandma's house when I was three than what that physician really said. Or maybe it's because I've been translating physician-speak for so many years that, like another language, it goes in one ear and comes out the mouth in plain old English, and that's what the memory retains.
So bottom line is, some of his muscles in the down there region don't work the way they're supposed to. Some muscles rely on others to do the work while they sit around and knit. They need to be taught to work right and then he will have a wonderful hockey career.
So glad we invested in orthodontia.
Anyway, we've been treating it like a sports injury, ice, ice, more ice, Advil, daily Advil, more ice, compression shorts etc. Doctor at annual exam said - good job, it's nothing torn or broken and not a chronic thing. He says it isn't getting worse, keep on keepin' on. 6 weeks later, he still can't get through an entire game without this leg giving out on him, he's skipped one tournament and a couple of practices, so on to the sports medicine doc we go.
So many big words! As my background is nursing, I do not cower from such things. In fact, I enjoy trying to remember them. But these ortho terms had my poor little brain pretty filled up. All I have now to remember is the physical therapy prescription, which unfortunately, doesn't measure up at all to the conversation.
Lumbar transitional vertebra by x-ray and grade 1 sport exam shows segmental instability and hemipelvis fixation. Needs core stability, glute recruitment, hip flexor training and strengthening.
Damn. Way too simple and clear. I wanted to share the ischial processes and the co-yadayada sacral mwah mwah doohickey angle that's more of an angle than it's supposed to be. It's pretty cool that he has this transitional verterbra which is part of his sacrum, but it wants to be a lumbar vertebra, so it tries, but then it's an extra and the rest of the lumbars don't really want its help at all. It doesn't really get in the way, but it can make things happen oddly. There were a very lot of really big words in that explanation. Reveling in my element, I vowed to relay each one when I got home.
But I have a 52 year old memory, and that means that I can more easily tell you what I ate at my grandma's house when I was three than what that physician really said. Or maybe it's because I've been translating physician-speak for so many years that, like another language, it goes in one ear and comes out the mouth in plain old English, and that's what the memory retains.
So bottom line is, some of his muscles in the down there region don't work the way they're supposed to. Some muscles rely on others to do the work while they sit around and knit. They need to be taught to work right and then he will have a wonderful hockey career.
So glad we invested in orthodontia.
3.20.2006
LK warms up...eventually
I know you're all bursting at the seams wondering how the first visit with LK's biological father in two years went.It was fine.
First impressions: This was the first time I'd seen him in non-grunge clothes. He wore khakis, a casual type of dress shirt (no tie, or I'd have seriously wondered what was going on) and black shoes that, while they weren't dress shoes, they were not brand new pimpy sneakers either. I used to marvel at how often he'd replace his sneakers. Having to buy shoes for 2 full & almost full size boys at the time, I knew what that costs. His shirt was not tucked in. That would have been along the lines of the tie, I think.
LK hung back, as predicted. She hadn't wanted to go, but rewards are wonderful things when you're 4. Once we got to the house, she grabbed my hand and would. not. let. go. Bio dad he did try to take her hand once and she high-tailed it back to us, so he smartly took the hint. We got a tour of the common rooms and then the backyard. They have a couple of chickens back there and a place to smoke (we stayed away from it).
She eventually warmed up and decided he could be trusted and we were not going anywhere without her, so they did some exploring of the weeds and bark back there for a while before going back in to play ping pong. She ran him around really well while we watched and cheered them on. They played with some Lincoln Logs and marbles before we called it a day. By then she conceded to have their picture taken with a smile on her face as well as his. All in all, a successful visit.
His first impression: that she looks a lot like her big sister. I brought pictures of the three of them at recent birthday parties and that was hard for him. But he says he's very grateful he can still see her, and that he's probably not ready to even attempt to see her siblings yet. He also says that he realizes now that he wasn't ready to give up his lifestyle back during all our court experiences, and that the kids were taken away for a reason. I hope he gets his life on track, and it stays there. It's a hard world out there for someone with his record.
Did we discuss the relationship here? Not really - she didn't ask anything. I signed in as "family", although that felt odd. Several of his housemates (this place houses up to 40 guys at a time) asked if she was his daughter, to which he answered "yes". That's probably the best way to handle it anyway for a 4 year old. There will be a time when she wonders how she can be our daughter AND his daughter, but she's not there yet.
And then we went to the Jungle.
Promises must be kept.
3.17.2006
Fáilte ar ais (Welcome Back)
I have a friend at work who has a goblin daily calendar. She also has an appropriately aged son. She shared this with us today.
"As with any holiday, the goblins celebrate this day and call it: SLITHERINGTIDE.
"Every year since the fifth century, on this day daring goblins try to smuggle snakes back into Ireland by secreting them on their persons in the most absurd places imagineable. Though never able to get the poor reptiles past customs, they never cease to enjoy trying."
I'd say Happy Slitheringtide to y'all, but I'm about as Irish as they come, without knowing anything at all about the country. So, Éireann go Brách (yes, I looked that up), and a very happy St. Patty's Day to ye.
"As with any holiday, the goblins celebrate this day and call it: SLITHERINGTIDE.
"Every year since the fifth century, on this day daring goblins try to smuggle snakes back into Ireland by secreting them on their persons in the most absurd places imagineable. Though never able to get the poor reptiles past customs, they never cease to enjoy trying."
I'd say Happy Slitheringtide to y'all, but I'm about as Irish as they come, without knowing anything at all about the country. So, Éireann go Brách (yes, I looked that up), and a very happy St. Patty's Day to ye.
3.14.2006
incomplete thoughts
Fletcher sent me an email today with the subject line:
"in first and dropped into his seat against the"
... the WHAT????
I got another one from Isaac that says:
"cramp however, I do take into consideration that"
...that WHAT????
At least Marianna was considerate:
"or doubtful arsine"
Her subject makes no sense at all. At least I'm not hanging there trying to figure it out.
Alas, my fear of viruses and my lack of need to enlarge my penis prevents me from opening these wonders of modern email so I will never know the answers to my questions.
I know how to use my "report as spam" button as good as anyone else. Not like it does any good, but I use it.
"in first and dropped into his seat against the"
... the WHAT????
I got another one from Isaac that says:
"cramp however, I do take into consideration that"
...that WHAT????
At least Marianna was considerate:
"or doubtful arsine"
Her subject makes no sense at all. At least I'm not hanging there trying to figure it out.
Alas, my fear of viruses and my lack of need to enlarge my penis prevents me from opening these wonders of modern email so I will never know the answers to my questions.
I know how to use my "report as spam" button as good as anyone else. Not like it does any good, but I use it.
3.11.2006
eulogy for a cell phone
got this email from the DDD...
(gospel music plays in the background as the weeping woman comes to the podium,
hankerchief in hand. Soft spoken, she cries-)
Oh Cell phone.
You were a good cell phone. ne'er a strange noise or dropped call or false
signal. ne'er an inappropriate ring or buzz was heard from you. And yet, we
knew you would leave us- who knew it would be so soon. Our thoughts and
prayers are with you in that high tech heaven in the sky. Keep ringing that
happy tune "collide... do do do doo do... do do do doo do... finally find you
and I collide..." yes my friend. yes. we do collide, forever, in my mind.
cell phone de [DDD]
4/11/05- 3/10/06 RIP
(gospel music plays in the background as the weeping woman comes to the podium,
hankerchief in hand. Soft spoken, she cries-)
Oh Cell phone.
You were a good cell phone. ne'er a strange noise or dropped call or false
signal. ne'er an inappropriate ring or buzz was heard from you. And yet, we
knew you would leave us- who knew it would be so soon. Our thoughts and
prayers are with you in that high tech heaven in the sky. Keep ringing that
happy tune "collide... do do do doo do... do do do doo do... finally find you
and I collide..." yes my friend. yes. we do collide, forever, in my mind.
cell phone de [DDD]
4/11/05- 3/10/06 RIP
3.09.2006
Round 2
Weeellll - bio dad is back in the picture. Took a phone call the other day. He didn't give his name. Just said, "Hi B?" and then "How are you?" That was enough for me to recognize his voice, but it would have been nice if he'd announced himself. Note to self: Give name always. Last weekend, BIL mistook me for l'il sis (that's happened now with both sisters - think maybe we all sound alike???). I need to use my name, too.
Back to bio dad. He's out of jail, and in a rehab program again. I think this is part of his treatment - to contact people in his past. The last contact for me was nearly a year ago when he called from jail and asked for pictures. I obliged, making sure one or two pictures had his older two kids in them. I know the kids' family will not agree to visit with him, so pictures are the best I can do to bridge that issue. After some chit chat, where he asked among other things, if she was talking yet (she's FOUR - of course she's talking!), he mentioned that he could have visitors on Sundays from 1-3. So we're going to see him the weekend after next.
How to prepare LK for this??? What do we call him??? What's with the excessive punctuation? She wasn't even two the last time she saw him. I know she won't recognize him at all. So I've scoured the house for pictures of him to show her what he looks like before she sees him again. She knows a little boy with his same name, so we've taken to calling bio dad "Big A" and the little dude "Little A". But we're all grappling with whether we explain that he is her father or not - probably even Big A. This is a little tough - she doesn't quite get it that C & N are her brother and sister. She just knows there is something different and special about their relationship. They're not just friends. But it might feel a bit like being cousins. Hard to tell, since she can't really verbalize it yet. On the other hand, C & N both know she's their sister and sometimes talk about her as their sister. It's not any big dark secret, but I know she still doesn't really get it. So, if it comes up, I suppose we'll talk about the father thing, and she'll just find out she has two fathers. She's certainly not the only kid with more than one father... but it will be awkward. DH suggested we call him "Uncle A", but I'm not crazy about that. Feels too much like lying, or trying to hide it. So I think we'll just use his name and see what happens.
In the meantime, I'm looking for more pictures of him. Mostly they've included C & N, so that might help her understand that relationship as well. Who knows??? This adoption trip is just that. A real trip.
Back to bio dad. He's out of jail, and in a rehab program again. I think this is part of his treatment - to contact people in his past. The last contact for me was nearly a year ago when he called from jail and asked for pictures. I obliged, making sure one or two pictures had his older two kids in them. I know the kids' family will not agree to visit with him, so pictures are the best I can do to bridge that issue. After some chit chat, where he asked among other things, if she was talking yet (she's FOUR - of course she's talking!), he mentioned that he could have visitors on Sundays from 1-3. So we're going to see him the weekend after next.
How to prepare LK for this??? What do we call him??? What's with the excessive punctuation? She wasn't even two the last time she saw him. I know she won't recognize him at all. So I've scoured the house for pictures of him to show her what he looks like before she sees him again. She knows a little boy with his same name, so we've taken to calling bio dad "Big A" and the little dude "Little A". But we're all grappling with whether we explain that he is her father or not - probably even Big A. This is a little tough - she doesn't quite get it that C & N are her brother and sister. She just knows there is something different and special about their relationship. They're not just friends. But it might feel a bit like being cousins. Hard to tell, since she can't really verbalize it yet. On the other hand, C & N both know she's their sister and sometimes talk about her as their sister. It's not any big dark secret, but I know she still doesn't really get it. So, if it comes up, I suppose we'll talk about the father thing, and she'll just find out she has two fathers. She's certainly not the only kid with more than one father... but it will be awkward. DH suggested we call him "Uncle A", but I'm not crazy about that. Feels too much like lying, or trying to hide it. So I think we'll just use his name and see what happens.
In the meantime, I'm looking for more pictures of him. Mostly they've included C & N, so that might help her understand that relationship as well. Who knows??? This adoption trip is just that. A real trip.
3.07.2006
Good bye Doc docs
As kids grow, their vocabulary changes and cute little toddlerisms give way to adult language. I do realize I wouldn't want to hear a 40 year old woman saying she would like a doc doc, but it's always a little sad when little people grow out of those cute little words they hear.
LK: I would like a doc doc please.
me: OK. You and I will both get doc docs.
LK: Mommmmm, I SAID I would like a HHHHHot Doggg.
me: Ohhh, this makes me sad - I'm going to miss the doc docs.
LK: Mommmmm, you MEAN, HHHHot Doggggsss.
me: No, I'm going to miss you saying doc doc!
LK: You mean HHHHot Doggg.
me: Yep - that's just what I mean.
The only hope for the future is that now we get into mixed up sayings (oh yeah, that's me), goofed up song lyrics and the rest of that fun stuff. I was recently reminded of M at a similar age singing "He flies through the air with the greatest dummies. Sharing your man on the flying trapeze." Very comforting that the humor does not end.
But I really am going to miss the doc docs.
LK: I would like a doc doc please.
me: OK. You and I will both get doc docs.
LK: Mommmmm, I SAID I would like a HHHHHot Doggg.
me: Ohhh, this makes me sad - I'm going to miss the doc docs.
LK: Mommmmm, you MEAN, HHHHot Doggggsss.
me: No, I'm going to miss you saying doc doc!
LK: You mean HHHHot Doggg.
me: Yep - that's just what I mean.
The only hope for the future is that now we get into mixed up sayings (oh yeah, that's me), goofed up song lyrics and the rest of that fun stuff. I was recently reminded of M at a similar age singing "He flies through the air with the greatest dummies. Sharing your man on the flying trapeze." Very comforting that the humor does not end.
But I really am going to miss the doc docs.
3.03.2006
Hey - did you know the Olympics are over?
Yeah - well, me neither.
Maybe this every 2 year thing isn't such a good idea. I think we watched a hockey game or two, maybe some snowboarding and a bobsled.
The only thing I remember liking was the speed skating relay - how the hell do they do that crossing right in front of the guy thing and not knock anyone over? Bizzare, really.
But that's it. I think we won some gold medals, and some other guys did too.
Happy Olympics. See you again in 2010. or maybe 2008. or something.
Maybe this every 2 year thing isn't such a good idea. I think we watched a hockey game or two, maybe some snowboarding and a bobsled.
The only thing I remember liking was the speed skating relay - how the hell do they do that crossing right in front of the guy thing and not knock anyone over? Bizzare, really.
But that's it. I think we won some gold medals, and some other guys did too.
Happy Olympics. See you again in 2010. or maybe 2008. or something.
3.01.2006
never one to be accused
of being original, here is a slightly groovy thing where you guys get to choose some adjectives about l'il ol me, and we all get to see how we see me. It's a little restrictive, because I would have liked to have chosen a whole lot more nice things to say about me, but had to limit it to 6. So, they're a little off the wall, but it was amusing, so have a go!
2.28.2006
Freakin' FREEZING!
Was my weekend in Boulder. With the weather outside some number of degrees below zero, my DDD's apartment had a broken furnace. My first night there was spent in a double bed, huddled with my daughter in an effort to stay sort of warm. My nose was kept under the covers so that the cold air would stop waking me up. JJJJEEEEZZZ, it was cold. Both roommate and mother (me) called the property management people in the morning to get them the hell out there! They finally delivered two space heaters, neither of which worked. Then one industrial strength space heater showed up, shortly AFTER the power came back on after an hour or so of an outage. This, strangely, bolstered our feelings that things were starting to look up and that our luck wasn't ALL bad. The carpenter covering for the property management people did manage to get the pilot lit and the furnace to stay on, but the apartment smelled so strongly of gas that I did not think we could stay the night. Fortunately, it dissipated enough by evening that we were all right. They are still not allowed to close the door to the heater.
The good news was that both Friday and Saturday night audiences really loved The Learned Ladies! DDD played Armande, and has proven herself pretty darn adept at this acting gig she's pursuing. She's got a nice flair for comedy, and has always been pretty striking on stage. She got these nice big, beautiful eyes (the rest of her's pretty good too). The costumes were very unique and striking, and while the set was simple, it was utilized very well. I was impressed. Unfortunately, her grandparents and aunt came to the Sunday matinee where the audience was just plain dead! What a difference a lively audience makes - the actors play off the audience reaction, which of course, gets the audience rewarded with even more enjoyable moments! Remember that, people, next time you are in an audience! Laugh it up! Enjoy! Appreciate! (unless it's a serious or sad drama, of course...) Let 'em know you're there!
So the double edge sword here is that when I go out to visit DDD while she's in a show, we don't get to spend a ton of time together, which is sad; but then, I get to see her in her element, which is just wonderful. We did manage some shopping time so she could replace her cold toes boots with something a little more appropriate. She always gets a few little goodies as well - a nice dinner or two, a tank of gas, some windshield wipers and the like. Being the good little credit card holders we are, we oblige these little luxuries. The sad part is that I realize just how much I really like her company and how much I've missed her these last 3 1/2 years.
My little great-niece had her second birthday while I was there as well - it was SO fun to see her and her little baby brother! Two little blondies - Adam still looks bald (he's only 3 months old, so duh...) and Nina still has just a little bit of hair, but it's in cute little curls at the nape of her neck. I just wanted to eat her up! I didn't get nearly enough of a baby fix, though, so I'm just going to have to go borrow my nephews a little this weekend. Can't believe littlest nephew is going to be a year old in a couple of weeks. It's gone by so fast...
So, for those of you bugging me to tell you how the weekend was - it was great, it was freakin' freezing, and it wasn't (and never is) long enough. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
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