Gifts

It is always interesting to see what gifts arrive at Christmastime. Among the more interesting include the golf ball wine bottle stoppers and a Project Linus blanket for my son. (The wine bottle stoppers were a very obvious regift, especially because my cousin's husband is a golf freak and we don't golf. The blanket? I can't even fathom why, beyond rummage sale crap coming our way.)

However, I got some things I wanted. My folks gave me mad money for Best Buy, which I was excited to drop on Photoshop. Once I was at Best Buy, though, I decided to go for the Photoshop/Premiere combo. To clear my mind today, I decided to take it for a test drive. I can only liken it to a being teenager behind the wheel-- I was excited by the possibilities and I dove right in. I put together a slide show put to music. I haven't added the transitions yet, but I have gained a whole new appreciation for those who edit movies. There was a whole lot of effort that went in to 3 minutes and 34 minutes. Wow.

Nostalgia, served with a side of camp

It all started with Jon Krakauer. I enjoyed Krakauer's book 'Into Thin Air' and then I discovered his book 'Into the Wild.' I was really blown away by the book. Quite honestly, I think that I would have done something similar had I been born male out here on the East Coast (as McCandless was). However, I was fortunate enough to be born in Deadwood, South Dakota to an outdoorsy father. I had my scrapes with wildness-- due to a considerable amount of town spent on the South Dakota/Wyoming border on my grandparent's acreage. Had I not been exposed to that and had grown up in suburban hell, I think that I would have plunged myself more into nature. I understand that I have inborn granola tendencies, and I accept them.

So tonight I was looking on imdb looking at information regarding Into the Wild. I knew that part of the movie was filmed in eastern South Dakota, but on the site I discovered that part of the filming took place south of the Black Hills. As I looked for more information, I linked into a page that showed all movies filmed in South Dakota. One was a skiing movie. And as I looked for more information about that movie, I discovered that it was filmed in my hometown. It's listed incorrectly on the imdb site, because the town listed (Deadwood) does not have a ski area, only my hometown (Lead) does.

When I discovered that another B-movie was shot in 'Deadwood.' (We'll see about that-- I'll give you an update once I've watched it thanks to Netflix.) It's called 'Beast from Haunted Cave.' Which then brought back vivid memories of a time when I was involved in the shooting of a no-budget horror film during high school. How was I involved? It was my crappy Chevy Citation that enabled some of the shots to be filmed. What happened to the movie? I have no idea, although I know someone who probably does.

Snuggly baby

While there are nights that my son really upsets me, tonight was the opposite-- a really fun night. Perhaps I'm becoming a bit more acclimated to the motherhood thing. Coffee dumped on the family pictures? Oh, well-- let's mop it up. Dumping his chicken spaghetti in his milk cup and then using that concoction to gel his hair? Dig out the baby wipes.

The best part of the night was Mark running through the first floor and giving our legs a full body hug. As I picked him up, he giggled uncontrollably. That toddler tummy is perfect for zerbitts.

We put him to bed and he was like Olivia, negotiating for more books. He wedges his head between the pillows on his bed. We ask him if he wants us to start his lullaby CD and we hear the little voice say, "Uh-huh."

Tonight, it's good to be Mark's mommy.

Traveler IQ Challenge

Fun game!

I got to level 8 with a score of 273,000 on my first try. Enjoy!

Traveler IQ Challenge

Thanks for the heads up, ZeFrank!

Ahh... First Day Back From Vacation!

There are some days at school when I look at the clock and wonder how I can make it move quickly through the next five and a half hours. (At that point, I've usually had to ask a kid to pick up their pencil five times and then have picked up the pencil myself, because I would probably do the Fred Flintstone-fall if I didn't.)

Today's happiness is that the day went very smoothly. It always does, though. The kids always come back pretty calm from their holiday vacation. Oddly enough, it is the fourth Thursday in May that makes me want to pull my hair out.

And to segue...

I took tons of homemade cookies, candy, etc. to Minnesota with us. I was really happy to share the sweets (I might as well tape them to my rear instead of eat them, because that's where they are going to go).

So I went back today to... more chocolate on my desk. More truffles, peanut butter cups, chocolate-dipped pretzels, and so on. Wow-- I'm going to pay for this! (Probably on a treadmill...)

Road Trip, Past Tense

We just returned from a monster road trip out to see the Minnesota family. It took us two days of driving (each way) to get to Southeastern Minnesota. Here were some of the highlights:

• There wasn't as much traffic as we were expecting, which was a very pleasant surprise.
• We enjoyed having some time alone as we drove. It was just the three of us, and we could be as serious or as silly as we wanted to be. Pretty nice to have some family bonding time.
• The whims of the airlines were not controlling our travel destiny. I did not have to be worried if I had enough water/sippy cups/diapers. I had no b*tchy TSA employees to deal with. If we had to go to the bathroom, we stopped. If I wanted quiet, I popped in a DVD. After many recent unpleasant flying experiences lately, it was a treat.
• I got to go to Seed Savers in Decorah, Iowa. I visited where the biodiversity-preserving magic happens. (And, according to the employee I talked to, I was their first on-site customer since the Visitor Center closed.)
• We got to sit quietly in the farmhouse (where privacy does not exist) until 2 PM every day while my MIL slept after working her graveyard shift. With a toddler. And on Christmas, too.
• My son, who as my friend aptly described, sounded like a 'barking seal', got better. Gotta love the humidifier!!!

We enjoyed our trip. Do we have to go back to work?

Oh, yeah

Happy New Year!

As the ball drops...

It is time for some resolutions.

• I resolve to b*tch less. And to shut up when I need to be quiet.
• I resolve to eat less polyunsatu-not-real-food. I resolve to keep canning, freezing, growing, and farmers-market-ing food.
• I resolve to keep eating when I'm hungry, tasting when I'm curious, and focusing on my life instead of dieting.
• I resolve to keep running after my toddler. Which will make me skinny. (As skinny as I get, that is. Darn Luxembourger/Welsh genes.)
• I resolve to be happy. And do more yoga. And hug my toddler. And not get caught up in crap.

I think that these are some resolutions that I can live with.

Holiday time is here, and I feel...

provoked.

It all started when I was expecting Mark. I got a snarky note from my grandmother regarding my parents, and I responded with firm snarkiness. (Snark deserves snark, IMHO.) Well, I didn't realize that I was supposed to read the initial snark and like it, too-- so my grandmother didn't talk to my father for a few months. And she wrote me an icy note about how we would never again exchange Christmas gifts. (Oh, if I could only be so lucky. This is the woman who-- three years ago!-- gave me Holly Hobby potholders with the 25-cent rummage sale tags still attached.)

I knew that if I didn't give gifts last year, I'd start another international incident. So, I sent gifts with Mark's name attached. And-- as I expected, we recieved gifts.

Then tonight rolls around. I got a message from my aunt. Saying that my grandmother, on her fixed income, spent nearly $200 on shipping for gifts.

Why is this my problem? Am I supposed to feel... grateful? Guilty?

Umm... I feel irritated. These are the folks who, when I paid for plane tickets, a rental car, and gas for the rental car out to the Midwest, then expected me to drive hours out of my way to pick up their Christmas gifts for them. (You heard it right! I dropped over a grand on my travel expenses and then am supposed to alter my plans to save them $100 in shipping fees.) And then were incensed enough to make up a huge story about how I refused to take my grandmother out for the holiday after she asked me to. (Not the question I was asked.)

I think they are looking for some drama. And I nearly bit. I decided to let it fly here, though.

I feel better now. Doggone, this is cheap therapy.

Wiped

Everyone in our house is tired, tired, tired. We have truly been on the run since we bought the minivan. (Pretty pathetic that we've put 3200 miles on it already.)

We went to Maine to the Sudbury Inn to watch my sister's wedding. We had a great time. There was a fun pub in the basement, a nice restaurant on the first floor, and our rooms were great. The best thing was the patience that the staff showed with the two toddlers. I was totally excited that we had a two-room suite that had a king bedroom for DH and me and a double twin room for Mark. Ha. As if he'd sleep peacefully in a strange room. What was I thinking?

Also from the what was I thinking column-- I let Mark play outside up in Maine. He had an absolutely fantastic time until his cough came back with a vengeance. It was a LONG drive back to Maryland.

Pneumonia was the worry of the pediatrician, but it turned out that it was viral. (Viral in that it lasted for a month and he still has a cough today.)

We went outlet shopping and I was good-- I only bought for gifts. Except for a few things I bought for Thanksgiving.

We were busy right up through our Thanksgiving company arriving. It was a whirlwind, really. I kept Mark here while they went to D.C. We all went to Williamsburg (and got the inspiration for my porch Christmas garland). Very, very busy.

And finally, I think that I could finally say that I could make Ms. Fosheim, my high school English Comp teacher, proud. My writing was quoted by The Washington Post. In their newspaper? Nope. But they give out Principal's Awards every year, and my letter was quoted during the ceremony. That counts, right?

Last but not least, Go Navy, Beat Army!

Since I Last Posted...

• My sister eloped (with the three of us witnessing)...
• I finished report cards...
• Painted the downstairs bathroom...
• Remembered that there's a reason I highly dislike field trips...
• Thought my son had pneumonia...
• DH went on travel, again...
• Had the little man puke on me...
• Worked logistics for the guests arriving in five days...

I'll post more later. For now, I just want to catch my breath!

An Open Letter to Car Dealerships

My I are the new owners of a Honda Odyssey. It's a great vehicle. DH and I got the vehicle we wanted with the options we wanted, and we're very happy with it.

However, the car buying experience is highly unpleasant. The bait-and-switch tactics are ridiculous, yet consistent.

Please, please consider designing showrooms that are friendlier to the consumer. For example, the showroom at which we purchased our Odyssey had a children's play area. It had three walls, and the fourth side was open to the showroom. Two feet from the toys was a 2008 Accord. Ummm... kids throw things when they play, they run around and they get loud. My child NEEDED to move and get loud to burn off some energy during the 6+ hours we were there. Having a brand-new vehicle right next to all of that was, quite frankly, dumb. Also, there was one television in the dealership on a Sunday (i.e. football day), so a group of 4 to 5 salesmen were constantly in the children's playroom. My son would eventually get tired of working around them to play and would run the showroom floor. I ran after him, so it became a game. Umm... salespeople, when you see a panic-ed mom running, get out of my way. I do not run in your showroom to entertain you.

How hard is it to have a glass wall with a door? How hard is it to have an extra tv in the breakroom for your salespeople? Can you please ask your employees to stay off the children's tables so the children actually have some room to play?

We ended up walking away with the perfect vehicle for our family yesterday, but I have to say that the birthing process was less aggravating than the car-buying process.

The customer pays for your salary. Keep our needs in mind, please.

Fire

When I was in college, on a frigid night (and I do mean frigid as in twenty to thirty below zero-- I went to school in Minnesota, folks), my apartment burned down. I got a sandwich bag full of smoky-smelling jewelery out of the apartment, and that was it.

Today, it was with a heavy heavy heart that I was reading about the fires in southern California. I've been there. It sucks. (It's weird for a while-- you think, oh I want that CD-- oh yeah, it's toast. You think, where's that picture? Oh yeah, it's ashes.)

As I was reading washingtonpost.com, I discovered that the fires were around San Diego. I have family in that area-- family that I don't talk to. (Bad grammar, I know-- but my point is that they haven't been in my life-- and some have been offensive when they have been in my life-- so I don't bring them into my life.)

I discovered that the town that all of my family lives in has been evacuated. I've had mixed feelings since. I have fond memories of visiting the family place several times when I was young. I'm sad at the thought that it could all go up in smoke. I feel sadness about the feelings they must be having right now. That's about as far as I can go, though. Does it make me want to reconnect with them? No.

Is this bad? Should I be reaching out to them? (This is rhetorical, of course.) Perhaps I should, but I really don't feel the need. I've been hurt so many times that I don't want to stick myself out there again.

In some ways, there is good that comes out of a fire. You truly get a sense of what is important (those that you love) and what is not important (stuff). People that matter surround you and nurture you. People that are buttheads make inappropriate comments. And you realize your own strength.

I know who I love and who loves me. I feel for those that I'm related to, but that's it. I wish them the best.

Cubs... of all sizes

Off we went to Shenandoah National Park this past weekend, despite our sick cub in the backseat. Oh, how he scared us with the low-grade fever, vomiting, and diarrhea-- but when the pediatrician says that we can go as long as we bring back a brochure for him, who are we to question?

We hiked down the Cedar Run trail to see the falls at the bottom. Discovered that we heard no water flowing as we were on our way down and that the rock where the falls were supposed to be was bone dry. Doggone drought. On the way back up, I heard a rustle. I looked to my left to see... a bear cub sprawled on the other side of the ravine. That's when I remembered that I had a bag of homemade granola in the baby backpack. And that cubs have mommies.

So I clapped at DH. Who just kept moving. So I said his name. When he turned around, I pointed and he just looked at me. So I said, "Bear!" in my most urgent tone. We both got moving.

A few hours later, we saw a cub posing for tourists just like Yogi did in the cartoons. I think it was the same goofy adolescent bear that I saw earlier-- I'm sure that he was doing his best 'feed me' look.

Oh, and dining choices near Luray were oh so sparse. Very, very disappointing. I always forget that I was spoiled by the quality of the beef in SD growing up. Not to mention that the Confederate-sympathizing vibe in our restaurant choice was very off-putting. But I forget that I'm south of the Mason-Dixon sometimes.

Random thought of the day: Having a husband that insists on being involved with decorating decisions to the point that I get frustrated and worn down is not fun. Who knew that paint colors could be so stress-inducing?

Wedding planning...

My sister is getting married. Not immediately, but she got engaged over the summer and she's going to get married. (I wonder what catchy blog name I could use for her 'intended.' Maine Native? FBIL for Future Brother-In-Law? FCW for Former Co-Worker? I must think about this on my next commute...)

However, my parents are being buttheads. Yes, that was me, calling out my parents without their knowlege in the blogosphere. (They live in Wyoming, don't have a working computer, let alone internet. But this is awfully cheap therapy, you've got to admit.)

The family found out about my sister's engagement shortly before we arrived in Maine this summer. My dad not-so-jokingly discussed my sister getting married while we were there. Then that passed and I assumed his nudginess had passed.

Oh, no. Turns out they've nudged my sister about every little date twist and turn that has come up. Repeatedly. Unashamedly.

The more I think about this, the more upset I get. My issue is: THEY ARE NOT PAYING FOR THE WEDDING. I think the issue can be boiled down to that. So here's a new rule.

Rule: You are not allowed to b*tch about events of major cost for which you are not financially responsible.

Why can't people just be happy, and communicate that? And be supportive?

I don't get it.

And why can't toddlers go to bed without the frolic-ing in the dark?

I Need Your Advice

I've gotten about three emails from classmates.com stating that I've gotten three seperate posts to my profile on their website. The deal is that if I wish to see them, I need to pay up. So do I subscribe to their site to see them? Will I see substantive messages or three people that just say hi?

What do you recommend?

How do we celebrate an anniversary? With a sore throat!

My husband and I have now been married for a decade. I don't feel old enough to be married for a decade. It's a bit surreal.

We test-drove a Suburban yesterday. It was a two-year-old truck that was very clean except for the... smoky smell inside. We kept telling ourselves that it wasn't that bad, because the XM radio/DVD player/4X4/leather seats were oh so enticing. When we went to a Mexican restaurant right afterward to talk about it, we realized that we were all congested from the cigarette smoke. So we kept talking about it. And we went to a detailing place to see if they thought that they could get the smoky smell out. The man said, "Maybe." A $30,ooo investment into 'maybe' is a bit much for us. Plus, do we really need a Suburban when we could get a minivan that can also haul stuff and get better gas mileage? I'm thinking that an Odyssey or a Sienna is a better choice for us.

Oh, and I still have a sore throat from the Suburban.

We're off to stay in a cabin next weekend. Hiking fun for the family!

OK, so I skipped a month (or nearly two)

Hi. Me again.

Want an update?

West Coast was a blast. I highly recommend Oregon (yes, Oregon) as a vacation spot.

Returned from the West Coast and was back to work 13 hours after stepping off the plane. Helped to train new teachers, became a mentor, and started setting up the classroom.

Which wasn't ready to my standards, but the kids came anyway. And I started teaching anyway. (They've all been learning anyway, too-- so it's all good.)

We had friends over. Which involved a melting, exfoliating grill (don't ask), appletinis, and bocce-ball stealing toddlers.

More teaching.

We replaced the doorknob of the interior door of Mark's bedroom. The punk had learned how to flip the lever-style doorknob and was able to release himself from his room at his own will to come and scream down the stairway at us. The round doorknob is a gift from heaven.

We rented a Tahoe and got 20 miles to the gallon even with the stuff we hauled(when some of the small SUVs we've been eyeing only get 15 MPG or so)-- who knew? What do exurbians with large cargo capacity purchase? A new grill and a lot of bags of mulch, of course.

Went to Artsfest to get my yearly Good Elephant fix. Happy, happy, happy. This pottery really does speak to me.

Baby screaming. Have a good one.

This and That...

DH has been working 60-80 hour weeks the past few weeks. It's been stressful, with Mark being in his curious state. DH is ours as of Thursday, though!

We're off to the West Coast later this week! We'll be going to the Oregon coast, Redwood National Park, Crater Lake, Portland, Mt. Hood, the Columbia River gorge, and hopefully Mt. Saint Helens. We got a fancy schmancy baby backpack that we'll be schlepping Mark in for our hikes. We're pretty excited.

My garden has been chugging along, despite incredibly dry weather. (Zucchini, anyone?) I've tried to come up with some profound post about eating local and preserving food-- but it's summer and I can't be profound. All I can come up with is the following:

You think about the resources it takes for low-gas mileage vehicles such as Suburbans and low-wattage lightbulbs. Apply the same logic to your food. I was at my warehouse store recently and saw that the humungo-bag of organic broccoli was from-- China. Think about the resources it takes to haul humungo-bags of organic broccoli halfway around the world! The thing is that it isn't just the broccoli-- peaches from Greece, tomatoes from Italy, grapes from Peru. To boot, I'm surrounded by struggling farms that are progressively falling to developers. By buying local and preserving my own produce, I am conserving precious energy resources and supporting my local economy. That's a very good thing.

I recieved a grant this spring, and I finally finished everything. Happy, happy!

Watching Mark dance 18-month-old style is hilarious. Truly funny, but charming at the same time!

Naughty!

This is my little guy-- who is making me crazy!!! He got into mischief with our laptop (now non-operational). He figured out how to scale his crib and frolic upstairs as he sees fit. He's been tap-dancing on the dining room and coffee tables.

Just when I'm ready to take him in for a trade-in, he flashes a blueberry-stained smile at me.

No fair.

I suppose we'll have to keep him.

Not cool.

I lost one of the stones from my wedding ring.

I know it shouldn't bother me-- it's just a little stone, jewelery stores can order a replacement, yadda yadda.

But I'm upset.

DH and I have been married for almost ten (!) years now.

We knew that this prong had issues.

Gah!

Optimism

I've been wanting to spout off about 'Scooter' Libby, but I can't gripe any more about politics.

It's also been tempting to go off about global warming with the record temps in the Southwest (not to mention the mid-90s I experienced in Maine) and the Live Earth concert coming up.

I feel a need to look at the glass as half full. I've got a garden that is cranking out the veggies (despite disappointing seed and hungry wildlife). Despite the temper tantrums and dancing on the coffee table (how I wish I was joking), my little guy is growing bigger and doing exactly what a kid his age is supposed to do. My husband and I have our household under control-- we're not in debt and we're saving for retirement.

Everything is good. Which makes me nervous.

I remember a gorgeous morning when I felt like everything was great in the world. It was an absolutely beautiful day, my DH and I were doing well professionally, our families were doing well. As I locked my apartment door that morning, I thought about how lucky and blessed I was.

That morning was September 11, 2001. Within two hours, I would be in a panic because my husband can and does go to the Pentagon and I wasn't sure if he would have gone there without telling me.

He was fine. But ever since then, I get really nervous when things are too good. I get nervous about being an optimist now.

Happy July Fourth!

I love living in a country where I can say what I want to say. I love being able to choose my religion, drive where I want to go, choose how many children I want to have, and all of the other rights I have protected under the Bill of Rights.

I also strongly support those that choose to join the Armed Forces. DH currently has two active duty siblings, and one sibling in the guard.

Freedom is not free, and I want to shout out to those that put their a$$es on the line, every day-- especially right now.

God bless the U.S.A., and those who choose to protect this great country.

Vacation

Well, school is over. I celebrated all of that by: finishing a grad class, volunteering to become a new teacher trainer and work part of my summer break, and completing a grant project at my school.

The first couple of weeks of vacation weren't really vacation.

Then the fun stuff started. DH, Mark, and I took a little jaunt up to Pittsburg to see a ball game. (Vijay Singh sat in front of us as we watched the Pirates beat up on the White Sox during the U.S. Open weekend.)

My parents flew out from WY, and we started their time out here by... immediately driving to the GM U.S. Nationals up in Pennsylvania. I did it for my dad. He's restoring a '66 Chevy Bel Air and was looking for parts. So we went to this gigantic swap meet, and he found a couple of manuals and a die-cast replica. (i.e. It was a bust.) The upside was that we introduced my father to ebay. The only problem is that he refuses to touch computer keys. Thanks to ebay and his computer-literate daughter, he's got three more parts for his restoration. Then we went to Lancaster, PA to go to 'Amish country.' This is funny because my parents have Amish friends in MN-- so I knew that they would understand the absurdity of the area that boasts three outlet malls and the Dutch Wonderland theme park (yes, an Amish theme park).

We then brought my parents down to where we live. My dad completely transformed our garage, which is a very happy thing. DH and my dad insulated our garage and put up organizers to hold all of our garage clutter. (Clutter that we really do NEED, mind you-- we do have two acres of land.) Anyway, I won't trip things as I haul Mark under one arm and groceries in the other hand. They also helped clear some of the forest of weeds that is my garden. (They were rewarded with garden-fresh grilled veggies and zucchini chocolate chip cookies.)

After two short days of home-based fun, it was up to Maine to see my sister and her fiance. We went to L.L. Bean, Camden, and Acadia, which were fun. There was also two days of spa-stuff. (It was HOT in Maine, though! I was really surprised by the temperatures!)

I knew that Mark would have trouble re-adjusting to life without people laughing at his antics, snuggling with his parents every night, and having one nap instead of two, daily.

Anyway, Mark was very vocal as we attempted to put him to sleep tonight. We'll see how the adjustment goes.

You know it's been a long school year...

I've had a tough week. It's now June.

I can count the number of days with kids on one hand.

It's time. Bring on the pool, drinks on ice, and sunscreen.

Thank goodness.

Everything's Growing

Here's the Cheeto-smeared face of my favorite boy in the world. In his hands is a tasty bit from the garden-- Carouby de Maussane, of course!

Seriously, though-- it's a snow pea. And of course there's a story behind it!!

I took the advice of DH's mom and aunt and ordered seed this year rather than buying mine at Target. Now, I'm talking Grandmas with more gardening experience than years I've been alive-- each. However, the company they recommended sent me awful seed. As in half of the seeds germinated and grew (I'm used to about an 80%-success rate). Thank goodness I was still tempted by the Target seed. This was a Sean Conway heirloom snow pea that called my name. I answered.

Carouby de Maussane did not disappoint. These are the lovliest peas I've ever eaten. I started popping these in my mouth as I was picking. Yum, yum, yummy.

I was planning on sharing my garden veggies. Now I'm feeling a bit selfish.

P.S. The boy is getting huge. He talks (saying 'they koo' for thank you), crawls on top of the furniture (even training his peer, the little punk), and runs everywhere he wants to go. It's weird-- I'm either totally enthralled with him or repulsed by his punkiness. Summer's going to be fun, though.

Perspective

An aspect of my undergraduate work in history that I absolutely adored was looking at an event from a variety of perspectives and divining out the truth hidden in the subjectivity.

That said, I must say that I have really enjoyed watching Flags of Our Fathers and Letters from Iwo Jima. I remember that my fellow history students and I would always rag on the historical inaccuracy of popular movies. (So much so that I was was a horrible partner to watch a historic movie with. To the point that I once made an absolute a$$ of myself in a movie theater in Pretoria, South Africa watching Mel Gibson's The Patriot. I was every bit the ugly American that evening as I loudly grouched to my husband about historical inaccuracy every five minutes.) These two movies show how horrible war is-- from every perspective. Dead sons are dead sons. No child should die in a war, and no mother should be crying over a flag-draped coffin.

God bless all of the soldiers stationed in harm's way. And may God bless DH's brother, who is off to Iraq in July.

Mixed Feelings...

I had a strange experience last week and I'm finally ready to blog about it. I live about 12 miles from where I work. My school is in a cute, nice neighborhood surrounded by a farmer's market, a Panera, a nice gourmet food and liquor store, and other niceties. I live south of this area and daily I drive through an area that is struggling economically. I realize that this area has seen gentrification, so I've always made a point to patronize these businesses despite the drug and crime reputation it has.

Last week, I stopped and decided to get a pizza for dinner. I parked in a drug store parking lot, got out the baby, walked to the pizza place, and ordered my pizza. Mark and I then walked over to the drug store and shopped while the pizza was being made. I finished shopping, put the bags in my trunk, and walked back to get my pizza. I waited for a bit once I got inside and made small talk with the lady in line in front of me. She and I chatted about kids, and all of a sudden one of the employees came around the counter to hand me the pizza. Meanwhile, she walked out. As I left, pizza in one hand, baby and purse in the other, I saw the lady talking with a man underneath the sign for the pizza place.

I walked back to my car, put the pizza and my purse in the front seat, closed the door, and began putting Mark in his carseat. You know when you can tell you're being watched and/or someone is approaching you from behind? I got a strong sense of that as I finished buckling Mark in, so I quickly finished and shut the door. As I stood up, the lady I had spoken to previously was right there and the man she'd been talking to was watching her and I from across the parking lot. Freaked me out. She told me that she was homeless and that the pizza place gives out messed-up pizzas to the homeless but that they didn't have any at this time. She didn't have anything to eat. At this point, I begin offering the pizza. She went on with her plea and I continued offering (probably sounding like an idiot-- It's a large! It's got everything on it!).

She finally took the pizza and she hugged me. I hustled my behind out of there.

On my way home, I was still freaked out. I was angry that I'd lost my dinner (I stopped and got a pizza for a reason). I felt violated and threatened. Yes, I offered up the pizza. But when a lady with broken front teeth comes up from behind me while I'm securing my 16-month old and she has a male acquaintance watching nearby, I'm feeling vulnerable.

I'm now ticked. I feel like I got hustled. I'm not going back into that area, especially because this all happened in broad daylight, at about 5:00 P.M. I don't feel safe there.

The scary thing is that it could have been much, much worse.

What do you think?

Wow... It's May!

The May/June schedule came out today. It's exciting, yet scary to think that another school year is coming to a close. In some ways, thank goodness. (That is in the 'I'm ready to be done with keeping track of 28 kids all the time') Otherwise, I think, already? (Most are fun, including my four-!- ADHD students.)

I've already started on some of my summer projects. The office is being painted a milk chocolate brown. DH isn't fond of it, but I'm working on him. I think I can get him to come around. We're also working on replacing the temporary paper blinds in our windows with actual blinds. (It feels a little surreal when you've had leather furniture for a while, but not real window treatments.) Little by little, bit by bit.

OK, I'm officially old...

My DH and I have been discussing the new vehicle purchase for a while now. As I said in my last post, we've been discussing the MDX, Pilot, and Suburban. Phil test-drove the Pilot and Ridgeline, and his general impression was, "Meh."

We talked about buying my parent's Suburban and driving it out here. Then they traded it off for a Yukon Denali on Wednesday night. (Yes, my parents are blingin' in a Denali. It's a strange world, folks.)

So, DH and I went and made a major purchase today. So what was it?

A John Deere.

Yes, people, I own a John Deere. And it's actually pretty cool. We had looked online at 'our lawn and gardening needs,' and my assessment was that we needed more than the basic riding lawnmower. We have two acres, part of our property lies on a slope, and I want to be able to haul bags of mulch, topsoil, and compost around. DH wants to be able to till, aerate, dethatch, and push snow with it. So we went with an upgraded X540 from 2006. We would have paid roughly $2400 more by going with the '07 model. (And it's a tractor, not a car!) I was relieved that we finally had a riding mower, so DH would quit whining about the push mower.

Then I rode it. Wow. Powerful and quick. It used to take us about 3+ hours to mow our lawn. Now it will take an hour. My husband's honey-do list is going to get longer!

Oh, me of little sleep

I'm a tired pup lately.

Mark, my dear overly mobile boy, has been cutting his canines. Just when I thought that our human alarm clock days were over.

I also am taking a grad class at school for recertification credits... as well as finishing a distance learning grad class for recertification credits. I'll be happy when they are over and I will be happy when I am bumped to a new pay lane (yes, based on the number of recertification credits I have).

DH and I have been occupying our free time (late night, of course) researching new vehicles. We saw an Acura MDX we fell in love with. Love the leather, DVD, etc. Don't love the lack of room for the luxury price. Looked at a Pilot and decided that we'll just bite the bullet and get the MDX which is a nicer package if it comes down to that. Drove my parents' Suburban and loved it. Drove a Pacifica (with transmission issues, I swear-- the engine shouldn't rev and pull back when you're at highway speed) and we were disappointed with the space. (Which is exactly why we want an upgrade from our two-Accord present situation.)

Then we rode in our friends'... minivan. And I really liked it. 'Cause I'm a mom. I didn't want to like it, and I really liked it. It has space, you can get leather and DVD, it has better gas mileage than the Suburban and the MDX, and you can even get ski attachments for the top.

God, I'm getting old. I'm going to go to sleep.

Catching up on a good thing...

I tend to join a bandwagon after it's begun.

Case in point: Harry Potter. The second book was out before I caught on. And I'm a teacher. (Yes, that is the ASL letter L I am holding up to my forehead.)

I also caught on to the Sopranos late. When the DH and I were first married and po' as po' can be, we went to the public library and checked out Sopranos videos for free. (What can I say? I was po' and white.)

Well, my most recent late jump on a bandwagon has been Weeds. It's been quite fun in a guilty sort of way. If you knew me in real life, you'd know that I am the sort of person that would NEVER do drugs. Ever, ever, ever.

In fact, the summer before I became a Momma, my girl friends and I went on our first annual girl trip. They decided to torture me and made believe that a bag of oregano was marijuana. Of course I did the total white girl scream. I'm such a sucker sometimes.

The show is fun as it shows the facade of suburbia. The only thing that isn't realistic is that people in this show actually know their neighbors.

Tired of the tears

I'm sad, but also angry about the shooting at Virginia Tech today.

I immediately called my elementary school to see if my paraprofessional's son was involved (he's a VA Tech senior, as is his girlfriend). He was okay, and I haven't heard about his girlfriend. I hope she's okay-- I know her because she's subbed for me several times.

I also talked to my friend, who told me that one of my former co-workers had to rush to get her son because he witnessed a firearm at his high school.

It continues to make me furious, especially as I look at my precious little munchkin, that this is still happening. I'm pissed that I have to do lock-down drills and have eight-year-olds look at me and say, "Mrs. AAK, are we doing this so we won't be shot?" How do you answer that question? My answer is always, "We do this to make sure we're safe just in case something dangerous happens."

Are gun laws the answer? Background checks? I'm not sure.

Having just watched 'This Film is Not Yet Rated' this weekend, I do think that we need to stop enabling bloodless violence to be in PG movies.

I grew up in a house with guns. They were unlocked, but I knew full well to keep my hands off. I knew what the consequences of a gunshot were. And I want my son to know the same.

To all those that died today, may your souls rest in peace in the heaven that you're now in. To the families of those who died-- you are all in my prayers. I grieve with you.

To all those that were wounded, I pray for a speedy recovery. I pray for healing from the madness that you experienced.

I'm tired of crying for murdered students. How do we solve this?

Spring (?) Break

My DH had oodles of frequent flyer miles that were supposed to expire on the last day of 2006. He forgot until during the first few days of January, and figured that he'd give it a shot and see if he could still book something. He decided to shoot for Spring Break. What was the destination? Florida? California?

No way. We were off to the sunny climes of... Minnesota?

Well, there was a reason. We both have family there. The golden boy needed to see both sets of grandparents. There were aunts, uncles, and cousins to see. And then there was my personal favorite, the Twins game. (Mmmm... Joe Mauer, yummy...)

However, Minnesota was not the warmest destination. It made me long for next year's destination: Orlando! I'm pretty excited-- I'll be going down with my folks, my sister and her boyfriend, and my DH/the boy.

I really am excited. I need to thaw out from my vacation.

An update...

Testing is over, thank goodness. Now I get to teach.

It's Spring, the pollen is flyin', and I'm sneezin'. My head has been fighting its yearly sinus battle.

We went and had pictures taken today. Mark was his normal, charming self. However, sit still? Pose? Ha! He saw toys, and toys must be strewn about. So, my son went and ran the hallway. Luckily, our photographer was good at the candids. We got some good shots.

The Babe

My munchkin worries me a bit. He's been on the wee side since he was born, which was a shock to my husband and me. We were both mid-8 lb. babies, and we expected Mark to be the same.

Nope. He was 6 pounds, 8 ounces.

And he continues to be small. Which we find weird. He's healthy, chipper, and can figure stuff out like it's no one's business (this 13-month-old called three numbers from my contacts list on my cell phone tonight). But he's below the fifth percentile for head circumference and weight and at the twenty-fifth percentile for length.

I'm not sure whether I should be worried or not. His ped. said at the 12-month appointment that since he was at the 15-month developmental stage, that there was no reason to be worried.

But I am worried.

He eats like a horse. Will he grow already?

Watershed

It is a time of transition here at AAK.

The munchkin has begun to run-- walking is SO passe when you can walk and momentum is on your side.

March 17th is approaching, which puts an end to the Ze Frank year of internship. Thank goodness my League of Awesomeness sweatshirt arrived.

I'm adjusting to the state of chaos that is my life. I think that I'm somehow adjusting to this new state of juggling waaaay too much. At least when the human tornado is asleep, anyway.

The saddest transition is IntSpEd and Xian. Good friend gets a job on the League of Awesomeness level, gets engaged to a great girl (I've known that for years), and prepares to move to the West Coast. And the finality of it all doesn't hit me until I see them looking so permanent-couple-like as my kid is screaming from the Thai spice on his veggies and rice. (What can I say? I'm juggling, folks.)

I decided that I can't be sad about this. Yet. I'll be sad when they're both gone. Or when he's gone. Or when I have to go and hit up the Southwest website to see them.

I realize that transitions just are. Lives grow, develop, change. It's hard when you see a glimpse of the future in your friends' smiles and you wish you'd be able to more closely share that future with them.

Oscars

I really enjoy watching the Oscars every year. It's so much fun to hang out in my jammies with a glass of wine and get snarky!!!

So here goes!

Gorgeous:
Kate Winslet-- Understated and glam!
Abigail Breslin-- Looking like a pretty girl, not a 10-year-old trampin' up!
Celine Dion-- Odd color, but nice!
Helen Mirren-- Age-appropriate and beautiful!
Nicole Kidman-- Initially I didn't like the neck bow, but a gorgeous silouette (sp.?)!
Jada Pinkett Smith-- You work it, girl!
Naomi Watts-- Beautiful!
Gwenyth Paltrow-- Old school, and it worked!

Not so much:
J Lo-- What were you thinking?
Beyonce Knowles-- That bling thing across your chest was waaaay too much!
Kristen Dunst-- Oh my goodness, nothing matched-- awful!
Penelope Cruz-- Were you trying to put off a Bjork vibe?
Anne Hathaway-- Ummm... you were in a movie about- fashion?
Meryl Streep-- I realize that you are the queen of cinema, but please put in a bit of effort!

I like Ellen Degeneres-- it's her first time and I think she's working out the kinks. A bit safe, but that's okay.

Curious to see what happens as the night goes on!

Easterners

There are times when, as a native of South Dakota, that I slap my forehead regarding East Coast logic.

This morning is one of those times. As my Caribou coffee brewed, I brought up the Washington Post online. The metro feature article is about prairie dogs.

A person from the East Coast sees prairie dogs and thinks, "Oh, how cute! They're so adorable! Look! They're kissing!" as they stop and block traffic in the state and national parks out west. Westerners see prairie dogs and think, "Rodent!"

Folks, prairie dogs ARE rodents! If cattle ranchers own their land, they should be able to do whatever the h-e-double toothpicks they want to do to the rodents on their land. Prairie dog towns are holes in the ground. Cattle can step into the holes and break their legs. Would a contractor be pissed if one of his power tools was destroyed? Would a programmer be ticked if his laptop was banged up?

Cattle are the capital of ranchers, who are business owners. They are sold so you can rush through traffic to Ruby Tuesday, Applebee's, Outback, etc. for your burger or steak.

This all reminds me of the mountain lion saga. To folks out here, they are beautiful, majestic creatures that should never be hunted. However, in the Black Hills of South Dakota, they are (rightfully so, in my opinion). Why am I pro-mountain lion (aka cougar) hunting?

A couple of years back, mountain lions started coming into towns in the hills (towns in existence for the last 125+ years, people, not new commuter-villes like we have out here). The mountain lions began picking off dogs and cats in people's back yards. How would you like your Fido or Fluffy to be mountain lion food? The worst case I heard was a mountain lion that went through a closed patio door to a basement in Spearfish, S.D. to eat cats INSIDE a home.

Puts a whole new perspective on things, huh?

Moral of the story: Empathy, folks, empathy. There are reasons that people living in an area do the things they do. Communicate, figure out why people are taking the actions they are, and think about what they are going through.

Long Time, No Posts

Hi there.

I'm amazed at how long it's been since I posted. I've been running in twenty different directions, and I've neglected my blog. Obviously.

So here I am.

Mark's birthday went well. Large turnout on the day. He fell asleep as DH and I were setting up and we had to wake him up to take bites of cake. He could barely keep his eyes open. Then he promptly went down for a two hour nap. So it was a good day.

Report card time came and went. It's always a gigantic flurry of correcting papers and updating everything. My desk is constantly covered with skyscrapers of papers. However, I'm okay with that because it's everything that I need to place in the correct places. It's when I shove those skyscrapers in the closets that I really run into trouble.

DH's mom and aunt came out for a visit. DH's mom and I have difficulty talking because, as I always say, she only understands the county in Minnesota in which she lives. If she can't relate what you're talking about to something in that sparsely populated county, then it isn't real to her. So having a conversation with her is very difficult for me, and I know that I quickly shift into snark mode. I was enduring it, when I found out that they were staying an extra day. I made it, though.

We've had weather stuff going on, too. Yesterday and today, it was... ice. I have to tell you that I'll take a four foot snowstorm (I'm not joking-- I grew up in a town with two different ski areas) before I'll take ice. Uff da.

So, life goes on out here on the East Coast.

And another reason the President is wrong...

is because No Child Left Behind sucks.

A strong opinion, I realize, but I really believe it to be true. I don't think that NCLB is a good use of resources when stronger education states already had state testing programs in place. It creates competition between elementary schools over test scores.

It also propogates shady activities that I won't get into.

It really pisses me off that Bush passes it off as 'what saved education.' That statement is a load of crap.

I became a teacher to educate children to the best of my ability, not to compete over test scores.

As you can tell, it wasn't a fun day today.

As the first birthday approaches...

I thought it would be a good idea to throw Mark a first birthday party. I should really call it the snowball party. What was originally going to be a few people has snowballed into 35 to 45 people.

What's my secret? That while I am kinda whining about the preparations, I'm really excited. I'm excited to see everyone, I'm excited to see how happy Mark is, I'm excited to see how he reacts to birthday cake.

I really can't wait. The party is T minus 6 days and counting.

P.S. I have to shout out to B. You've helped me so much in putting this together with Phil gone, and I want to let you know that I'm grateful to have you as a friend.

You Can't Ever Go Back Home...

I realize that time marches on and communities change-- for God's sake, I have a B.A. in History. My bachelor's thesis is all about how Deadwood, S.D. changed from settlement through the first 30-ish years.

But I should start by saying that I have hometowns-- Lead and Deadwood, S.D. are so intertwined that I consider them both my hometowns. I was born in Deadwood, I grew up in Lead. We banked in Lead, we'd pay the electric bill in Deadwood. Grocery shopping was in Lead, the J.C. Penney was in Deadwood. And so on.

My dad worked at the gold mine in Lead. The 'high point' of the mine was in the '70s and '80s (go back to your Econ courses-- when the economy is good, commodities such as gold do badly-- but when the economy is bad, commodities do well). By the '90s, things weren't going so well. Deadwood was really struggling. The downtown was deteriorating and there were buildings that were vacant.

Then 'You Bet!' came in and proposed bringing legalized gambling to Deadwood. It passed and Deadwood became a boomtown again. Some tourists came back and were pissed that tacky, crumbling Deadwood was gone. Other folks came for the whole Dances with Wolves/Kevin Costner connection. But there were lots of tourists.

When I was in college, Deadwood was thriving. The buildings were being refurbished and it was fun again. I worked at the Bullock Hotel in the summers. When my husband and I were engaged, we stayed at the Branch House, and we rented out the entire Bullock Hotel for our wedding guests.

So when my mom offered to take care of Mark overnight so DH and I could get away, we decided to go to Deadwood and stay at the Branch House. We drove up in the middle of the week and planned to go skiing. Due to global warming, IMO, there was no skiing. So we decided to drive up through Spearfish Canyon and hang out in Deadwood.

Ick.

I walked past about three 70-year-olds (that I swear I recognized from my time working in Deadwood during college) sticking quarters into slot machines as I went to check in. (i.e., it was REALLLLY slow.) We settled into our room and went out to dinner.

Deadwood is a carnivore's or a buffet-lover's delight-- but we didn't want anything heavy and decided to go to an old favorite, Chinatown. We asked for a table (and I failed to notice that she didn't ask us about smoking or nonsmoking) and we were seated next to a table of roughly seven people that were ALL smoking. Empty restaurant, we're seated next to the only other table there, and they are chain smoking. So we stood up, walked to the hostess, explained the situation, and requested another table. She looked absolutely shocked at our chutzpah (I forget how 'assertive' I've become in relation to how I was in high school) but reseated us. The food was okay, but it was pretty dead.

After dinner, we walked up and down Main Street. I was showing DH where different things from the Deadwood series were located in real life (i.e. the original Saloon #10 location, the 'Badlands' district, the Gem theatre). We then realized that as we walked up and down the three blocks, it was us and the old people. And one family of five. I bet we passed eight people on Main Street. Total. The casinos held chain smoking 60 and 70-year-olds.

Depressed and disappointed, we went for a drive up to Lead. It was even more buttoned-up. I thought we might get a beer at the Stamp Mill or something, but it was closed as was everything else on Main Street. (I exaggerate-- I thing Subway and the gas station formerly a Common Cents were open.) So we went to the 'Mall.'

The Lead 'Mall' consists of a grocery store, an Alco, and a bowling alley. After taking a even more depressing turn through Alco (I stood in the beauty aisle and realized that it was where I spent my adolescence dreaming being pretty and how things would be better in the future-- everything is uphill after being in the Alco beauty aisle), we went to the bowling alley.

When we walked in, I recognized roughly half of the people there. Couldn't name all of them, but I recognized them. Phil and I bowled three frames and I came to some major life realizations.

1) My life turned out okay. I'd recently been thinking that maybe it wouldn't have been so bad to not go to college so far away and settled in my hometown, married a nice local boy (there was one who would have been willing, I'm sure, from the look on his face when I introduced to my now-DH as my fiance), and had a family there. I wouldn't have been happy. I would have been scrounging by, not being able to afford necessities, and trying to scrape ahead since I didn't have the correct last name.

2) Lead and Deadwood have so much untapped potential. But they aren't cute like the towns in Colorado and they are gearing themselves toward people who like to drink and smoke and gamble. There is so much more to these towns then that.

So we finished our bowling, I paid and chatted with the cashier about Lead, and back to the Branch House we went. The highlight of the evening was watching The Family Stone on HBO. And The Family Stone is a train wreck of a movie, if that puts things into perspective.

The next morning, we ended up driving down Hwy. 385 in the Black Hills from Pluma (if you haven't driven through the Hills, you must put it on your before-you-die list, because it is awesome) down past Pactola Resevoir. Pactola is the water supply for Rapid City and it is so incredibly low that Rapid should be incredibly worried. Scary.

We then went down to Hill City. We came upon the PrairieBerry Winery and spent an enjoyable hour or so tasting and shopping. (We had fun-- the wine isn't that great, but what the heck, the tasting was free.) As we drove through Hill City, which is thriving-- fun shops downtown, lots of people out shopping-- I thought to myself that Deadwood/Lead is way off track. Hill City is much more fun than Lead/Deadwood, skanky wine and all.

So, my walk-away was that my hometown(s) is/are in trouble. I don't think that they are attracting the kind of tourists that will return again and again (70-year-olds eventually pass away) and they aren't family-friendly. Due to climate change, they don't have the snow that they used to have. And Lead is banking on a Neutrino lab that may or may not come, depending on Federal funding (and the U.S. has a big war to pay for).

I hope that the towns can ressurect themselves. But something's gotta change.

Unfinished Things

I don't accomplish all that I set out to do. Just ask my DH. I have drawers full of unfinished assorted crafty-ness upstairs. (I am not allowing myself to buy new stuff until I finish some of the freakin' stuff taking up space. Unless I need something to finish it. Or if I need more to complete a set. But pretty much, I've cut myself off.)

It makes me crazy sometimes. I have stacks of stuff, cluttering counters. My poor DH will go through stuff (invariably when I'm busy cooking, or feeding Mark, or blogging) and ask what I want done with this or that bit of clutter. I freak out, telling him not to touch that, I need to go through that, I'll take care of it when I'm done cooking/feeding Mark/blogging. Do I? Not usually.

Which makes it weird that I've recently accomplished a lot. For example, our kitchen/dining room has been 75% painted for months. Going around the cabinets is tough, but not so tough that I should have waited this long. So this morning when Mark went down for a nap, I pulled out the paint and went at it. It's done now.

I feel like I'm actually accomplishing stuff. I finished one craft project (well the major portion of it, it isn't completely finished) and I'm close to finishing another.

I still have my piles of stuff. But it feels good to complete some things.

Laughter and a Sweet Tea Shower

I miss my friends. As in really miss my friends. I met them through my workplace and they are awesome people to work with, but nothing beats when we just hang out together.

We always seem to kick up the excitement a notch when we're together. If you see three women sitting together, howling with laughter (the beer-squirts-out-your-nose kind of laughter) then that is probably us.

We've had some interesting experiences-- almost melting into a puddle in a pretzel factory in July, having to restrain one of us from sticking their head in a chocolate fountain (not me! It was L.!), dining at La Fleur (to be pronounced with an extremely exaggerated French accent), trying to convince one of us that a bag of oregano was really Mary Jane, and too many other things to list.

Tonight it was the three of us and the baby. We went to a fun little Mexican restaurant to exchange Christmas gifts. We ate (yum), we opened (I almost cried at the thoughtfulness), and we laughed.

Then my son was passed to Nanny. He decided it would be fun to grab the straw in my freshly filled extra large sweet tea. Nanny got a shower of sweet tea. It was incredibly funny (in retrospect-- I'm still trying to get over my embarrassment regarding normal baby things that really are funny but socially unacceptable).

I had a great time. But I miss them already. I wish we had nights like this more often.

Denver, Denver, Denver

When we flew to my parents, we went through Denver. We were incredibly nervous about getting stuck.

We got to the airport out here, and we checked in online beforehad to make sure we'd have boarding passes. We checked three pieces of luggage-- duffels for DH and me and Mark's carseat. They were looking for volunteers for bumps when we waited in the gate area (two roundtrips and the best seats available on the next flight-- my mom would have killed me, though). We got into Denver and holy buckets-- the moving walkways had people leaning against them the entire length of the terminal.

We got to our gate in Denver and saw that the 6:30 flight to Rapid was just leaving at 8:45. This made me worried because our flight was scheduled to leave at 9:00. Mark was fussy (not feeling well) and I didn't want to sit for over two hours with a baby up way past his bedtime. Our flight was not listed. All of a sudden, our flight was being called. We hustled to our plane and were surprised at the open seats. We sat (!) for what seemed like an hour and then took off.

We got into Rapid at roughly 11:20 pm. We got our duffels and... no carseat! After waiting in line for a half hour, we discovered that the carseat was safely in... Denver. I asked the rep what I was going to do and he first said that they had loaner carseats. But ooops! They were all gone. And gee, he had no idea what I should do. I then called the hospital for a loaner. No loaner. I called the police for a loaner. They called the airport fire department to see if they had a loaner (uh, okay...). No loaner. The police could take Mark to our hotel, but we'd probably have to wait for 60-90 minutes. So the police told me to go to the 24-hour Wal-Mart. (Happy Holidays from Rapid City.)

We finally got to the hotel at about 1:30 and the hotel desk clerk had saved up all of her venom just for us-- she leered at us as we walked in and we stated that we had already checked in. She made a snotty comment back about how she knew everyone was already checked in and I responded that we'd just arrived from Denver (i.e. back off, wench).

We got to the room and discovered that the double queen room we reserved was, a single king room with a hide-a-bed. So off DH marched to deal with venomous wenchy desk clerk (who chose to argue with him-- her mistake!) and we soon had our double queen room. Bedtime was at 2:30 am. (Local time, 4:30 am here.)

Fortunately, the trip got much better from there. We enjoyed our time in Wyoming and South Dakota, for the most part (more on my experiences in my dying hometown in a future post). Mark was appropriately spoiled by grandma. We were appropriately spoiled with free babysitting.

Fun trip. Except for Carolyn, the wickedest desk clerk in the West.

Happy New Year

Hello again, and Happy New Year!!!

We're back from our holiday travels. We had a good time, and I will blog about it in future posts.

It is New Year's Day, and it is time for resolutions.

1) I am going to forgive myself for grieving my pre-baby life. It's okay to miss the freedom that I had before. I'm going to cut myself slack for being angry and sad that being a parent entails more responsibility than I had anticipated.

2) I am going to allow myself to feel beautiful. The aforementioned responsibilities will always be there. I feel more confident and happy when I am taking care of myself. I plan to stop going to work with dripping hair and no makeup.

3) I am going to work on making the house into the place we want to live. I learned a big lesson when my parents sold my childhood home. As my folks prepared their house for sale, they made it look great. They were sad that they had never enjoyed the improvements that they made. I plan on working with my DH to make this place into the oasis we want it to be.

4) I plan to carve out time for my friends. While my friends have been understanding of my mommy-transition, I want to spend time more time with them this year.

5) I plan to tackle the clutter that takes over my home and my classroom. I need to plan for clutter control and take charge of my piles of stuff.

6) I want to blog more. I think about blogging more than I actually do. I'm going to hit the keyboard this year!

Well, I think I've laid out enough resolutions to tackle this year. Happy New Year, and I wish the best to you in 2007!

Just when I thought all was calm...

It snowed in the WRONG PLACE!!! We wanted snow in the BLACK HILLS of SOUTH DAKOTA, not in DENVER!!! (Yes, I realize that I'm yelling! I mean to yell right now!)

I'm most upset that Denver (hi people, you live at a mile-high altitude-- you should be READY FOR SNOW) has shut down their airport for the last 1 1/2 days. I want to go and be with my family. That currently requires me to go through Denver. About 24 hours after the airport reopens.

DH and I have been on the desktop and laptop, respectively, in a vain attempt to find a way to circumnavigate this mess. No luck, so now we're adding a call to United (which I'm sure will be routed to India) to it all.

Oh-- as we've dug around a bit, we've discovered that we can get to Denver, but can't get from Denver to the Black Hills. And India keeps hanging up on us. Yay.

Happy holidays!

Updated to add: I love my Dad. He offered to drive down to Denver to pick us up. Life is good. Well, pretty good.

And soon... we're off!

Time is passing by more quickly by the minute, it seems. We're getting busier and busier. However, we are trying to savor the little things that make the Christmas season fun. Tonight, it was attending the Christmas program in which my students performed. It was fun and it definitely helped us to get into the holiday spirit!

We're praying for snow in the Black Hills so we can ski when we're back there for Christmas, but it's not looking promising. We're unhappy that we won't be able to use our new skis-- disappointing, because I'd really like to break in my new boots. (We bought skis and boom! I got pregnant! I've been waiting 18 months to use these puppies!)

Anyway, we're soon off to visit the first time grandparents in Wyoming. I'm not sure when I'll be able to post again.

Merry Christmas! Enjoy the holidays with your friends and family! Seasons greetings from AAK!

Social life, smocial life

Mike left a tantalizing comment on my last post. It's something that I've thought about a lot-- in fact, it was something that my husband and I talked about at great length during the time leading up to my pregnancy.

Here's (my interpretation) of the issue: When you choose to have a child, you step up and parent. Yes, you lose your social life, you piss off your co-workers when you MUST leave to pick up the child from daycare, you lose your hobbies, and your relationship with your partner is strained as you both find your new equilibrium. (At least, that's MY experience as a new parent.)

As a teacher, I have clucked in judgement about many a parent and their messed-up priorities. I've experienced the parent that chaperones the field trip only to talk on his cell phone the entire time. I've waited for 90 minutes after school with a child whose parent was not at the bus stop and failed to realize that school is over. I've been on another field trip where a parent took off with his child and another child in a major metropolitan city. I've developed ways to get messages to a parent whose child has seriously violent episodes at school, and the parent in turn avoids me.

I'm not to the point of parenting a school-age child, but I find that I'm softening a bit and becoming a little more understanding. I think our societal expectations of the family and community have really changed, which is what I attempted to address in the 'My Social Life is Nearly Dead' post. I find that some of my friends expect me to carry on with my pre-baby status quo. My husband, who travels extensively for his job, doesn't understand why I compare myself to a single parent. My co-workers demand a reason for why I have to leave right after school.

I can't drop Mark off at my sister's house or my mom's house. I don't feel comfortable dropping Mark off at my friends' homes while I take care of errands, etc., because Mark is my responsibility. I feel like I don't have the family support that my folks had while I was growing up while it feels like my responsibilities are greater than those that my parents faced.

What I'm getting to is that I don't know where MY equilibrium lies quite yet. I feel overwhelmed by the responsibility that I bit off by becoming a parent in our situation. I really enjoy working-- but there are times when I wonder if being a stay-at-home mom would be a better gig. I don't want to shirk the responsibilities that I chose to take on by becoming a parent. However, I don't want to lose my friends, my marriage, and myself in the process.

Am I doing a good job? I really don't know. I'm just trying to do the best I can in my situation.

I'm also hoping that by overpaying the babysitter, that I can carve out a little bit of time for my friends, my husband, and me.

Don't get me wrong-- I love being Mark's mom. He's truly an awesome kid-- the way he crinkles his nose when he's being mischevious, how he giggles and crawls away from me, how he pretends like his toddler car is revving, and how he problem-solves to take things apart. My mistake was that I truly did not imagine, despite what other parents told me, how difficult it would be.

Would I do it all over again? Probably. ;)

We survived...

We went out. We ate. He drank. We laughed. I never took my mind off of the boy. We decided that we'd been gone long enough and decided to come home.

The boy normally goes to bed between 8 and 8:30. When we arrived at home at 9:30, he was still in the babysitter's arms with a tear in his eye.

It was hard to be gone tonight. I think it was good for all of us, though.

My Social Life is Nearly Dead

I live halfway across the U.S. from the bulk of my family. The relative that lives closest to me is roughly a 12-hour drive away. I don't have relatives that I can just swing by and drop Mark off with.

So, I normally take my son with me when I go somewhere. I've never had him with a sitter-- not on purpose, but it just seemed like so much trouble to set up and I didn't have anyone that I trusted to leave the little stinker with. (Especially because my child is a very. active. child.)

Tonight, I'm leaving the bambino with a sitter during my work Christmas party. I'm excited that I'll have a few hours to relax and be an adult without having to constantly be watching and listening for his location and choice of mischief.

Last night, I had an event as well. It was low-key, a small group of my co-workers and spouses at a co-worker's house. She repeatedly assured me that it was okay for me to bring Mark. I was very hesitant, but my husband came back into town and I felt pretty comfortable once I knew I wouldn't be 'on' the whole time.

We arrived at the party (late, of course. Said child got hungry and had a diaper just as we attempted to leave.) and got comfortable. Adult drinks, non-work related conversation-- all was good. Until my son saw a glass of red wine within his reach. Of course it landed on an Oriental rug. I really tried to have a good time after that, but I totally felt preoccupied about what my son was going to throw/dump/bang on next.

So, I'm hoping that I can go and have a good time tonight. I really want to relax and have fun. We'll see how it goes.

Random Holiday Observations

My son does not like his hat and mittens-- but I think that they are really cute.

Making no-bake cookies for my Cookie Exchanges saves me a lot of time and keeps peace with my DH. (I'm making 17 dozen cookies-- I'm a masochist for choosing to join two different exchanges.)

There is no possible way that I can complete all of the tasks that I have laid out for myself. Especially because I'm flying solo next week-- DH is gone tomorrow through Friday night.

Shopping at off-hours keeps me from cussing out the humanity that surrounds me.

While I normally like to make my Christmas cards, I am crying 'uncle' this year. My holiday letter is also very short-- but heavy on baby pictures. (The pictures are what most people like to see, right?)

My classroom looks like a disaster area-- but it's not hurting anybody and I'm okay with that.

Life is interesting right now because my son is now able to escape the ExerSaucer, can climb up our stairs (thank you, DH, for teaching him said task-- can you hear my sarcasm?), and knows how to maneuver the baby-gate free obstacle courses that once worked. Walking is just around the corner, and I'm scared. Really scared.

My son doesn't fuss as I put ornaments and lights on the Christmas tree, but freaks out when I try to wrap presents.

The First Haircut (i.e. Why My Son Has the Haircut I Wanted to Avoid)

I hate the standard baby boy haircut. Seriously. It looks like people put the bowl on their head and cut anything that hangs visible.

Then I took Mark to get his first haircut. It went reasonably well, at first. (I have video of the first 60 seconds or so. Then nothing.) The scissors part went okay, except that he wanted to watch the scissors. So the hair stylist brought out the electric clippers.

I thought it would go well when the stylist let Mark put his hand on the clippers to let him feel the buzzing sensation. Then she started cutting, and my son freaked out. We had screaming, thrashing, tears, louder screaming, and more thrashing. I had to attempt to pin him down by holding him close to my body and holding his head down in my hand. (Yes, I was nearly crying by the end.)

So my son has the bowl haircut. And I don't like it. But I accept it.

Traveling with kids can bite...

Julia at Here Be Hippogriffs has an absolutely awful, yet enthralling account of how traveling with kids can turn into hell when you're at the mercy of the airline industry. I couldn't resist and posted a comment under 'kmr' in the comments section. It's like I say about being a teacher-- I'm not clever enough to make this sh*t up.

Turkey, then sadness

We went back to Minnesota for a week. It was nice to see family, and I really can't complain about the visit. Mark was happy to get a great deal of attention but was less than happy to sleep in a strange house. Overall, it was a good, uneventful trip.

Then we came home.

First, I found out that the mother of my friend, the P.E. teacher had passed away.

When I called my person on the school telephone tree, I found out that the mother of our Media specialist is not doing well.

Then we found out that the good friend of my brother- and sister-in-law, with whom we had just celebrated Thanksgiving, had a heart attack. (Beware, women: pain radiating up the arm into the jaw can mean BAD things.)

Tonight as I was reading my hometown newspaper on the web, I saw that a good family friend had passed away.

Telling my dad that his friend passed away was awful.

Not the way I envisioned kicking off the holidays.

The 3 R's must die

I am a teacher. I teach third grade, and I'm certified as a general classroom teacher in addition to having reading specialist certification.

I am not, however, a fan of the federal No Child Left Behind legislation. I truly think that the sense of developmental appropriateness and creativity has been beaten out of the curriculum. In addition, I believe that teachers are so overwhelmed and harried that they are set up to not do a very good job.

Therefore, I read with great delight this article on cnn.com.

I believe that Americans are innovators. I also think that we need to embrace creativity and foster a culture of lifelong learning. Let's step out of the standardized testing box and really teach-- not to score well on the yearly test, but to help kids discover the world around them.

The relaxing effects of vacation, gone in mere hours

We had a lovely weekend in Maine. We woke up in New Hampshire (crisp morning! fallen leaves! steaming coffee! doesn't get any better!) and made our way up to Maine-- straight to Freeport. For those of you not in the know, it is the home of outlets done right. As in outlets, sans mall. There are just quaint little converted hometown America downtown businesses and homes and three ginormous L.L. Bean stores. It was fun-- we even had lunch at a hometown-y pizza joint.

We then had a great time the next day-- lunch at Big G's (I highly recommend the Avacado Monteban and the peanut butter whoopie pie) and an afternoon at the day spa. Once beautiful and relaxed, it was back for a delicious homemade dinner and the Wizard of Oz on tbs.

Then it was time to go. Off we went, wishing we could stay longer.

What awaited us? The TSA gauntlet from Dante's Inferno, waiting for a late plane with a hyper infant, and being so tired that I forgot to pick up our older car from my school last night. Only to get a call from the sheriff's office this morning that the back window had been smashed out and that we needed to come inspect it to see if anything had been stolen.

We need another vacation. Thank goodness I only have to wait until Saturday.

He's got timing

At the end of September, we took a weekend trip on which Mark got sick. This past weekend was take two.

We went down to Williamsburg to do some outlet shopping and to meet with our financial advisor-- and Mark got sick on the way down. Traffic was bad in West Point, VA (been to West Point? It seems like it's population 200-- but they are constructing a new bridge that stopped traffic for what had to be two miles. The two vehicles in front of us actually got in an accident-- sorry to the Saturn that hit the Beemer...) and Mark started screaming mid-traffic jam.

When we got to the outlet mall, Phil saw a spot open up and zipped in. Unfortunately, there had been two ladies in two different vehicles waiting for the same spot-- who we honestly didn't see. They proceeded to stop and berate us for our rudeness.

Then we started shopping and Mark was not happy with his stroller. The whining in LL Bean turned to crying in Gap (and everything echoes in a Gap outlet) which turned to full screaming and body flailing in Ralph Lauren.

We made our hasty exit to get down to our hotel room-- where Mark power-napped for two hours, screamed for two, restlessly napped for two, screamed for two, and so on. What we needed was Baby Vicks (had it but in the frustration didn't remember it) and a humidifier (I don't believe that humidifiers are amenities offered by the front desk).

We came home yesterday. Since he was at home, the night went better, right? Ha, ha. We actually called our health care's 24 hour nurse hotline at 3:15 A.M.

Thank goodness Mark has an appointment today with the pediatrician. I'm not sure I can take another night tonight.

All brought on by Ben Folds...

As I was growing up, my mom cleaned houses. Even though I was a working class kid, I knew many of the upper middle class kids in my hometown because my mom would bring me along as she cleaned houses on 'snob hill' (aka Ridgeroad). My first paycheck came from when I substituted for my mom and cleaned a dentist office. My first steady job was when I cleaned hotel rooms where my mom was the Assistant Manager of Housekeeping. I cleaned hotel rooms throughout high school and college.

I hated every single minute of cleaning rooms. Perhaps hated is too light a word for what I felt-- despised? Loathed?

Whatever. My goal in life was to be able to afford to pay someone to clean my house. Weird benchmark of success, perhaps. But as I kick back with my glass of wine, I consider myself to be rockin' the suburbs (okay, exurbs) as I sit in my house that is freshly cleaned by someone other than myself.

Life is good.

Cute I am

Mark's Halloween costume arrived. He does the ears when the white robe is on, but doesn't care for the ears by themselves.

Mark seems to be a happy sage, so we thought Yoda was appropriate.

Edited to add: Mark enjoyed all of the attention he received on Halloween night. The costume was quite a hit!

Food photographer vs. Working mom

There are times that I'm jealous of stay-at-home moms. Why? Time. Yes, time, time, time. I went to this blog the other day and turned all green with jealousy. It must be juicily glorious to have the time to take gorgeous pictures of wonderful home-cooked food. Me? I spend my time waking up, rushing around to get the four bags together (school bag, lunch bag, purse, and diaper bag), getting Mark bathed/fed/changed, load it all in the car, get to daycare and unload Mark and the diaper bag, rush to school, run around to get papers copied, teach the 28 kids while they all ask to go to the bathroom/media center/printer to get their Accelerated Reader paper while the instructional resource teacher/special ed paraprofessional/Behavior Center Monitor ask me about the missing writing tests/if student X needs support during the math test/the reading intervention group is one student low, then I get 30 minutes to walk to and from the lunch room/eat/pee, monitor students playing at recess/the car moving slowly alongside the kids standing at the playground fence/the parent without a check-in badge coming onto the playground, teach the kids some more while student X tries to rifle through the backpacks, student Y camps out in the bathroom for 20 minutes, and student Z chucks a crayon across the room but tells me that he didn't do it, then I load all of the papers that I didn't have time to touch during the day into my school bag, load my dirty dish bag/school bag/oops forgot the purse into the car, rush back to daycare, load Mark and the diaper bag, get home and unload the four bags, make dinner, feed Mark, try to eat while he cries because I'm not holding him, and then perhaps I have some time to pop off a quick email/blog post/watch the episode of Ugly Betty I've had tivo-ed for two weeks.

I'd love to be able to take pretty pictures of food.

Dove film

Yesterday, one of my co-workers asked me if I had seen the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty film. I tried to view it on my school computer and the hamsters on their wheels, powering our server, laughed their cheeky heads off at my audacity. Sooo.... didn't see it until tonight. I do think it succinctly sums up what it is like to grow up as a girl. Craziness.

What do you think?

Autism and Television

Last week, I was sent a link to a slate.com article that discussed a statistical connection between rates of television viewing and rates of autism. Being the aunt of an austistic boy (most autistic children are boys-- 4 to 1 boys to girls) and the parent of an infant son, my interest was piqued. I went to the actual Cornell University website to read the research. I was fascinated that: 1) the authors were economists, 2) that the TV-autism connection (and the TV-ADD/ADHD connection) was not drawn before, and 3) that I didn't hear about this on the news. (In fact, I still haven't heard about this on the news which just BLOWS MY MIND. Perhaps because most Media outlets are, ahem, on television?)

I don't get it-- we should be putting our children's needs first, but only when their needs fit with our television viewing habits? Hmm... I think this might be another sign of the apocalypse. (Yes, I'm being tongue-in-cheek!)

Edited to add:
Yesterday morning, I finally heard the report discussed in the Media. It was a 20-30 second radio spot on a major news radio station. They got a sound bite quote from one of the Economist authors of the study and the reporter stated that autism researchers were dismissing the study. Still haven't heard word about it on TV.

Eight months old and already talented!

My boy now has a new talent! My son has learned how to: knock over some sort of toy/bucket/etc. in his playpen, stand on top of his toy/bucket/etc., put his chin over the rail, and spit his pacifier about 4 to 5 feet away. If one decides that the pacifier accidentally made its way onto the middle of the living room floor, washes the pacifier, and returns it to the playpen, my son has the solution. The pacifier offends with its mere presence, so he calmly and patiently repeats the process again. ("Away, damned binky!")

As an educator, I understand that children are egocentric. However, I think my son takes it to a new high. When I go out for any reason, my son gives me the look that says, "Oh yeah, it's time for you to take me out so my fans can adore me." Then what happens? Every other person decides they should stop and admire Mark. I can't even stereotype and say that it is mostly grandmas, because they aren't. It's the huge bodybuilder that stops me to coo at Mark on my way to the gym daycare, the little kid in the grocery line, and the Naval officer behind me at the library. Don't get me wrong-- I'm happy that Mark is interacting with a variety of people in our community. What gives me pause is that in public, he turns on 'the perfect baby' persona. (He doesn't feel the need to use that persona at home. Every night, we get the red-faced, teary baby that immediately calms once we pick him up.)

As my friend says, Mark is rotten. As in spoiled rotten.

Another reason I won't be voting for Republicans this fall...

Commenting on the Foley scandal this morning, Pat Buchanan commented that the Democrats are hypocrites. What was his reasoning? That Rep. Pelosi and Sen. Clinton have marched in Gay Pride parades that 'reportedly' included a floats of the Man-Boy Love group and they failed to denounce that group. Sooo.... because Pelosi and Clinton support gays, they support Man-Boy love? This is what I commented about on another blog-- it really pisses me off that Republicans are spinning the fact that they covered up behavior that would get men arrested on Dateline NBC and swept Foley's behavior under the rug. Republicans are making it sound that gays are pedophiles. The Republican, Foley, was a pedophile, and the party covered it up to save their own butts. I plan to vote for every Democrat on the ticket next month...

Benign!!!

My mom had her appointment at Mayo today-- benign, benign, benign!!! Happy, happy, happy! From what she told me, they were very thorough and looked at many different possibilities of what the lumps could be. (Tumors or dermatological...) Cancer has been ruled out. I'm so happy for her. Yay!

The House of the Cranky Baby

Yesterday, the boy went to the doctor and got some medicine. He woke up this morning and was pretty darn cranky. I figured he was still waking up-- until we were in the car, I handed him a bottle, he took it by the nipple, and flung it across the backseat. That pretty much set the tone for the day.

Tonight, he's been pretty happy, considering how the day began. We're hoping that by putting him to bed early, he'll wake up in a better mood tomorrow. Does anyone have the happy baby serum out there?

What a weekend!

My husband and I went to a lodge in a national park this past weekend for our anniversary. We were so excited-- we had the hiking clothes/boots, the baby and all necessary accessories. When Mark began screaming an hour from the lodge, we didn't realize it was a sign. That night, he woke up, miserable-- every. two. hours. We tried to push through it and went for an amazing hike on Saturday morning, only to have an exponentially more miserable baby on our hands. He screamed, we bounced, he screamed, we sang, he screamed, we soothed, and he screamed. Repeat. Not the way I expected to spend our well-planned anniversary weekend. I have to say that people were right-- having a baby changed our lives!

So, my husband stayed home today and Mark got a day of Daddy TLC. He's feeling much better now.

My only request is that you send out your prayers, chants, vibes, etc., out for my mom on Wednesday. That's booby check day at the Mayo Clinic's breast center. We're hoping to hear negative, negative, negative, after someone thoroughly checks the scary boobies.

Saints

As I watch the Saints and Falcons play, I've gotta shout out to New Orleans. Y'all deserve to thoroughly enjoy kicking the crap out of Atlanta tonight. (Y'all deserved to have the Coast Guard and National Guard pulling you out of trouble last August before you had to bitch on CNN, too, but that's another post.) This Vikings fan is a Saints fan tonight!

Independence Day is Coming...

When I was growing up and would wait for the Junior High/Middle School bus, there were a couple of guys that looked a bit strange and were outsiders. The two guys wore long trenchcoats (this was waaaaay before Columbine) and had the whole 'I don't fit in so I'll try to intimidate you by looking scary' vibe. Little did I know that my sister would marry one of those guys about ten years later.

Less than 18 months after I got married, my sister (six years younger than me) called me to let me know that she was getting married. (I got 12 days notice and off I flew to Rapid on scary-expensive plane tickets that I couldn't afford.) Once she got married, it was like she dropped off the face of the earth. I rarely saw her and felt really disconnected from her. It was a painful time and I felt like she and I were on different planets. She smoked (as in her clothes always smelled, smoked), lived with her husband and some of their friends in the same house (my sister said when the movie You, Me, and Dupree came out that she didn't need to see it because she already lived it), she worked while her husband remained unemployed for years, and it seemed like we only talked around the holidays, if at all.

Once my husband and I saw Mark's heartbeat on the sonogram, I called my sister to let her know that she was going to be an aunt. She seemed very excited and genuinely very happy. Just a few weeks later, I got a telephone call from her husband. (Very weird-- I never talked to him. Ever.) He said that he had searched their computer, found that my sister had been conversing with an old boyfriend and was planning to leave him. I was blindsided-- I thought it couldn't be true because she'd call me and tell me personally.

Well, my sister did leave trenchcoat-guy, who, as I didn't know, was incredibly manipulative and controlling and as I did know, was happy to just let my sister finance his life. She has now let me know that once she heard that she was going to be an aunt, she decided that she couldn't let her nephew think that she was the strange aunt and she decided that her life needed to change. She did reconnect with the old boyfriend. Even though I wasn't personally happy that she went straight from a failed marriage to an old boyfriend, she has gotten her life together and we are not only sisters, but once again friends. Her independence day is next week. She'll officially be divorced and that chapter of her life will be over.

Happy Independence Day, M.

Religion and Peace, Part II

Found an article that encapsulates a few more of my thoughts on the Pope's comments and the response from the Islamic world. Look here.

I don't understand Fundamentalists, of any religion. Period. (Unfortunately, our Commander-in-Chief is a Fundamentalist as are the terrorists hell-bent on disrupting the lives of Westerners.) Peace, people!

Milestone

Mark reached the milestone of being able to pull himself up to standing-- which means that babyproofing must commence in earnest. Unfortunately, being married to an engineer means that looking at the nice baby gates in a catalog does not work-- we must see the gate, feel the gate, and try to use the gate several times before looking at the next gate. (I work from the looks good, works good, and I'll buy it philosophy. That's not how the engineer rolls.) Go to Wal-Mart, you say? Not only no, but hell no! I refuse to shop at Wal-Mart because I think that they are bad for America in many ways. So, I'm caught in a baby gate-less loop. We'll see how this goes!

Religion and peace

I'm Catholic and I'm American. The leader of my religion, in a speech, pulled quotes from an obscure 13th century philosopher that were anti-Muslim. Now I'm seeing massive protests in the Muslim world. I'm not thrilled with the pope-- he's way too conservative. He's also a 'my-way-or-the-highway' pope in Prada shoes. (Yes, he loves designer shoes. He can't denounce and root out pedophiles, but he can wear Prada.) I think that the Muslim world is going over the top in their persuit of the pope. Don't call him Satan-- just ignore him!

I wish that the Dalai Lama or someone of that caliber would begin a dialogue of the religions. Seriously. Isn't it time to talk about peace rather than focusing on this religion is violent, that religion is violent, yadda yadda? I'm seriously thinking about becoming one of those moms that marches for peace in D.C. We're totally messed up-- our troops should be in Darfur making sure that the refugee mothers don't get raped every time they go to gather wood with which they prepare meals for their families. I just don't get it. Can we please get rid of the Republican administration already?

Teeth!

My son has teeth. Last week, we ALL got colds-- runny noses, achy, etc. My son was incredibly mucus-y and was a bit whiny, but for cutting two teeth at a time, I think he actually did quite well. (And his dad-- well... not quite so pleasant. And he was not cutting teeth.)

We live in Redskins territory. And our Vikings beat them. Happy, happy!

I had election day off yesterday and really needed to catch up on school stuff. So what did I do? I made birthday cards. Weird, huh? I was volunteered to be on social committee at school (Why did I not say, "no,"? Why?) and they decided that since I'm a busy new mom that they would have me make cards. This was not helpful, but I am done thanks to a terrific friend who helped me yesterday.

I'm in the room as my husband watches highlights of the Hulk Hogan wrestling match. First of all, I cannot believe that Hogan is wrestling in his 50s. Second of all, I saw Hulk Hogan in Deadwood, S.D., and he is a very freakish-looking individual. 'Nuff said.

To close, I will quote my son. "DADADADADADADADADADADADADADADADADADADA!!!!!"
If you would like to hear this for hours upon end, I can hook you up!

P.S. Karen at the Naked Ovary has Maya pictures. Seeing her go through the adoption process takes me right back to when my aunt and uncle adopted my cousin. Welcome to Mommy-hood, Karen!!!

Boobie update

My mom has an appointment in about six weeks at the Breast Center at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. I had to light several fires under her butt to get her to be her own advocate, and I'm thrilled that she'll be out of the sticks to get her second opinion.

In Wyoming, the doctor and radiologist have been comparing her current mammogram (mid-August 2006) with a mammogram from December 2000 to give her a benign/malignant diagnosis. When she made her Mayo appointment, the person that set up the appointment told her to not even bring the 2000 mammogram-- it was too old and they didn't want to look at it.

I hope that this truly is effort spent to hear that she's cancer-free. It's nice to know that she's going to be examined thoroughly and according to current medical protocols.

Ernesto

Ernesto was much kinder to us than was Isabel. When TS Isabel came through, we lost ~70 trees on our two acres-- 12 of which decided to rest themselves upon our house.

When I got home from school yesterday (after our early dismissal), I discovered that our tulip poplar that shaded the backyard had plopped down across our backyard. Immediately, I remembered the sleepless night spent waiting for the 'pop-whoosh-bang' sound. Pop was the tree roots breaking loose, whoosh was the sound of the 50 ft. tree falling, and bang was the impact-- which we occasionally felt as a shudder in our 18 month old house. My a** didn't endure years of waiting for a baby just to get crushed like a grape with my sweetness in my arms. No way.

So, I ran like a madwoman through the house, literally throwing jars of baby food, shampoo and conditioner, and other needs in bags and off I went to my friend's house. (You know who you are, thanks again for letting the three of us crash...) We watched The Producers (what a strange movie) and ate wonderful Chinese that my DH picked up after the delivery person was in a car accident.

We snuck out early this morning and made our way home (after visiting Starbucks, of course-- I felt a bit more courageous with a Mocha in my hand). As we came through the neighborhood, we saw many trees down, and one damaged house. We had multiple trees down and many leaning trees. We had a leaning maple (as in leaning towards our master bedroom) that we quickly cut down-- and I was really disappointed to discover my crepe myrtle was broken and now at a diagonal angle.

This isn't what we wanted to be doing on the first day of the labor day weekend (I wanted to engage in retail goodness at the Williamsburg outlets)-- but it's all worked out okay.