Facebook Conundrum...

My brother-in-law and sister-in-law make me crazy. He means well, but ends up being one of those trying-to-hard-to-impress-for-approval types. She's just... weird.

I'm a public school teacher, and they homeschool. It's cool with me-- but they get very defensive and threatened whenever I expertise in the educational arena. (Their third/fourth grade child didn't know his address when I asked. They didn't respond well.)

I could go on about the religious conservatism, the lack of bra-wearing, the sending of an email that contains with--oh surprise-- a picture of an aborted fetus. But I won't go there.

I recieved emails last night, showing that they had put in friend requests for my facebook page. They are among the last people that I'd want on my facebook page. Truly.

Right away, DH said ignore and do not friend them. I feel the same, but there's some guilt there, too. Oh well, I guess I'll be the beotch at the next holiday gathering.

I Can Make It 11 Days...

Until Germany, that is.

I have the standard whines-- I won't bore you with the details. Same poo, different day.

Therefore, I have random thoughts tonight...

• I'm loving Numi's Dry Desert Lime tea. It tastes like Key Lime pie would taste, if it were a tea. Not quite as satisfying as the pie, but yummy all the same.
• I have reserved tables for my friend and me to sell stuff at a yard/craft sale. Have I marked anything to sell? Nope. Have I even located my price stickers? Nope.
• My toddler is actually becoming... agreeable. And he's starting to respond to logic and humor. Now if I can just get him 'across the pond' without a temper tantrum, I will be a happy mommy.
• My friend's pictures with green beer are so flippin' hilarious. The perfect end to a St. Patrick's Day.
• Speaking of St. Patrick's Day, the patron saint of the church from childhood was St. Patrick. We had a huge potluck dinner that at which the entire town turned out-- the annual St. Patrick's Day dinner at the Moose Lodge. (Yes, there was an actual moose head inside that freaked me out.) I miss that.
• One of my life goals is to see The Chieftains in concert.
• The Last Snake in Ireland is one of my favorite children's books. You'll see the end coming, but your kids might not!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Freakin' Economy

My Mom lost her job.

She's saying that she got fired, but I'm calling it downsizing. (When they RIF roughly half of the staff of the business, I think that qualifies as downsizing.)

I'm really, really disappointed.

Ha...

I had to chuckle tonight. I was catching up with old Daily Show episodes that had been saved on my Tivo, and watched the episode from the day after the Oscars.

Jon Stewart's 'Moment of Zen' was Hugh Jackman's momentary lap-dance for Barbara Walters.

You heard it here first.

Are the End Times Near?

I just saw Hugh Jackman give Barbara Walters the tiniest bit of a lap dance just now in her pre-Oscars show.

It will take a few weeks to get that out of my head, I'm afraid. Yikes.

Slogging through

It's been interesting around these parts lately.

Work has been hopping lately. Standardized testing will commence shortly, so the reviewing has begun. Behaviors have popped up as a result. I cannot allow mutiny-- so it should be interesting.

Mark has been sick. He has been at home with bronchitis since Thursday. DH has been taking leave, since he has months of sick leave. (I consider it fair-- I have to take off when he's away, and he has gobs more sick leave then I do.) We now own a nebulizer. For those of you not in the know, it turns the steriod medication into an inhaled vapor to open up the clogged airways. Which leads me to my rant.

DH's mom and aunt arrived in town on Thursday night. I administered two nebulizer doses that night, and then DH was responsible on Friday as he stayed home. He didn't do any until I chewed DH out around 11 am. And this is with his mother, the nurse, and his aunt, mother of eleven kids, in the house. His mom then stuck up for him when I let my displeasure known on Friday night. Uh, excuse me, but four doses means four doses. (The excuse? Mark didn't want to do a breathing treatment. I can't tell you how many times I've heard this excuse at school, so my pissy factor kicks in pretty quickly every time I hear it. Who is the parent, after all?)

But the in-laws are gone now. Ahhh, where's the wine?

Crafty

The stamping/crafting bug is biting me. It's also helping me to get drawn into the ebay web again. I used ebay quite a while ago-- back in the day when I was newly married and, as they say nearby, po'.

Now I see that ebay has changed. Granted, I've gotten a few bargains. (Clothing bargains.) However, I'm going back and getting retired stamping supplies. And, uh, I am getting in bidding wars rather than finding bargains. Oh, and due to my disorganization, I am discovering that I have been bidding on supplies that I already own.

I'm thinking about cranking out some cards to sell at a craft sale. Perhaps I can justify my collection if I sell something. ;)

Not Fair

My husband is gone. A lot. For example, he's been gone at least three days of each week since we returned from Minnesota.

He just got home tonight. We met at Cheeseburger in Paradise, because our big three-year-old wanted to go to the beach tonight to celebrate his birthday. (Possible where we live, but waaaaaay too cold. Cheeseburger was a good comprimise.)

We ate dinner, came home, and I carried things in. He served Mark cake.

And then he fell asleep.

I'm planning on lodging a formal complaint in the morning.

I do things the hard way

My friends tease me. I can and freeze my own made-from-scratch food. My husband loves it-- peach barbecue sauce for on top of pork chops, tomato salsa, strawberry jam, apple butter, chicken noodle soup-- he enjoys it all. The toddler is not so excited-- Mark would much rather eat radioactive orange mac and cheese from a blue box. Sometimes when I come home, I'm tired and wonder if the effort is worth it.

Then I remember. Tonight, there is a blog post about mercury in high fructose corn syrup. And a peanut processor didn't like the positive samonella test results they got, so they lab-shopped until they got the result they wanted.

I don't care if I get teased. I want my son to grow up healthy.

It Wasn't Me

Oh my.

When we went to Minnesota for Christmas, we told DH's family that we were heading to Germany. They were excited for us and happy that we'd be seeing DH's brother, just back from Iraq.

But DH's only sister immediately decided that she wanted to go too. She kept going on and on about how fun it would be to meet up over there and explore. Which was fine with us.

Then we got an email a couple of days ago. It was from DH's sister and had all of her flight information. DH and I looked at each other and both stated that we hoped that his sister had cleared this with his brother in Germany.

Fast forward to tonight. She called us to talk to us about the trip and ask if we'd noticed that she was flying over. To which I responded, "Sure. So what did your brother and sister-in-law say about you coming over?" Cue silence. Then she said that she sent them an email once she bought the ticket.

Which basically means that they had NO IDEA that she was even thinking coming over until she sent them her flight information. And her dates coincide with ours.

Wow. If nothing else, our Deutsch Marriott awaits.

Dry

Just a quick one tonight.

The laundry room is now dry.

We're thinking about replacing the lineoleum (now gone) with ceramic tile.

Sometimes it stinks being a grownup.

The One Where I Break Down and Cry

When DH and I built our house, there was one area where I went around and around with my construction-savvy father. Out of practicality, I wanted the laundry room on the second floor, right by the bedrooms. My father basically told me that I was crazy and that I'd regret the decision. He didn't give up the issue for weeks. I was smugly confident that I had made a fantastic decision that would save multitudes of trips up and down the stairs, hauling laundry.

Then our laundry room flooded yesterday. (I love the men in my life, but they aren't supposed to be right when we argue, doggone it!) It all started with the water stains that appeared on our living room ceiling. Which led to the discovery of standing water on the lineoleum under the washer. Then came the moving of the gargantuan washer, which left marks on my hall carpeting. And DH cleaned up the mold from the wall. This morning, we pulled off the trim and discovered more mold/mildew. We cleaned.

And then my husband left. After he gave me a verbal 'to-do' list.

However, I do understand that he needed to go. An engine test has been scheduled. For a long time.

It still stinks. It stinks as much as the pants of my child, who decided to do some attention-getting-pant-soiling today. Yay.

It was as my son sat on the hallway potty, with smears of 'number two' all over the toilet seat, that I thought I was going to lose it. (Uh, I cannot do any laundry until all of this has been solved. And it is not solved yet.)

All topped off by a phone call from my mother-in-law. Who tried to make small talk by discussing how a family in her town lost their home in a fire. I attempted to sympathize by saying that I know how horrible that is-- my apartment in college burned down, and I still miss my hand-embroidered baby quilt and the yellowed photos of my great-grandmother's high school graduation that I lost. To which she replied, "Well, that happens."

Uh, I feel a little better about my day now that I've had two glasses of wine. But not much better. I'm now tivo-ing Waitress so I can get a good cry in before I go to bed.

P.S. We have cleaned the laundry area as much as we can and are using fans to dry out the closet. I've ventilated upstairs so we're not recirculating mold spores in the air. I'm watching my child very closely for any respiratory symptoms. We're now in the drying process.

Three days to go...

The elementary school teacher profession keeps you hopping at the holidays. There are the holiday programs, Secret Santas, and the cookie exchanges. While it all helps to build the holiday mood (there's no missing the anticipatory buildup to the holidays in grade school), it is a bit tiring after a while.

I have today, Thursday, and Friday to go. I have 'miles to go before I rest.'

The holiday program (which could have been a train wreck, but wasn't) was last night. Of course DH was out of town. One of the secretaries at our school, who happens to be the most fabulous, funny, self-depreciating mother I have ever met (and who loves Mark as if he were her own-- no, really)-- wrangled the toddler while I was on teacher duty.

Just realized the time. I'm off. It's cookie exchange today.

I need some coffee.

Oh, yeah...

We've been watching airline fares on kayak.com for a while. We wanted to go to Germany.

It was $600 for a one-stop flight, and I encouraged my DH to buy... and he wanted to wait.

Then it dropped to just over $500 direct.

Merry Christmas to us. We're going to Germany this spring. :)

Number One and Number Two

There are certain humbling experiences about parenting. We all go through them.

Baby puke on your clothing.

Awkwardness at work as you muddle through your third month of sleep deprivation.

Realizing others around you are disgusted by potty-talk. (As in bathroom-talk, not Illinois governor talk.)

I had a humbling moment tonight.

I have not been able to shop after work for, oh, three years or so. Recently, Mark has allowed me to shop at night. Alone, with him. (This is a small miracle, because I was one of those parents you glared at as I rolled past you with a cart full of screaming infant/toddler.) Tonight, it was off to Staples to buy a printer cartridge to get our Christmas letters knocked out. I was so proud of my boy-- he walked into the store with me, let me put him in the cart, waited patiently as I grabbed the cartridges, and talked to me as we waited in line for the register.

Oh, until we were next in line and he screamed, "MOMMY! I NEED TO PEE AND POOP!"

Apparently he thought I didn't hear, because he then repeated it.

I would have crawled under the cart right there had it been possible.

If you are in public and hear this, please know that we parents don't wish to subject you to this punishment.

Double Standards

I have a dirty little secret. I can cuss like a sailor.

Oh, I definitely try to keep my language clean. It's hard for me, though. At school, I most certainly keep the language under wraps, unless I'm with some of my very close friends. Put me in my car though, and I can let it rip.

I also try to keep it clean around my toddler. I thought I was doing pretty well until Mark dropped a toy one day and said sh-(poopy word).

Why is it necessary to make this confession? Oh, sexism.

Really, I mean that-- sexism.

The last time I heard sexism seriously discussed was when Rudy Guliani went on the Today show and harped about the sexism being heaped upon Sarah Palin. (Before she had gone out to do any interviews, mind you.)

However, sexism has reared its ugly head today.

Hillary? Nope. Palin? Ha-- she wishes. Pelosi? Umm, no.

It centers around Patricia "Patti" Blagojevich. A couple of days ago, I wouldn't have known who she was. Last night, I was throwing my own personal blue streak at the television as I heard what her putz Illinois governor husband had done. (His stupidity both astounds and disgusts me. Ms. Illinois Attorney General, could you please declare him unfit for office already?)

But so what if she has a potty mouth? Did anyone blink an eye when her husband was quoted as using a variety of expletives in his conversations?

Sarah Palin, you don't know sexism. Unfortunately, Patti Blagojevich now does.

Logic

Umm... My toddler is sounding like a barking seal. It's really heartbreaking to hear. He coughed all night long last night, and none of us got much sleep.

After much persuasion (some might call it nagging), DH finally took him to urgent care when Mark's ped. was triple-booked. What was up with the barking like a seal, active and jumping toddler? An ear infection, of course. (How logical is that?)

So it's my turn to stay home tomorrow. I'm thinking chicken noodle soup (homemade, of course), hot cocoa, and Veggie Tales 'The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything' is in order. Or, if he's a rascal, it's the Sprout channel and Easy Mac. We'll see how it goes.

And for the movies...

Inspired by my friend, here are a couple of movies I recently saw.

King Corn-- Wow. If you don't have time to read Michael Pollan's tome The Omnivore's Dilemma, this is a quick alternate overview of the industrial foodchain section. (And if you eat, I personally think that you should read Pollan's book.) If you watch the movie and wonder what to do next, read Pollan's In Defense of Food. Good documentary.

La Vie En Rose-- I watched this one solo. The scene that haunted me was when her boxer lover wakes her up after his flight and the chaos that ensues afterward. So sad to see how she physically deteriorated at such a young age.

No Country For Old Men-- This movie is one of many (The Departed, Sweeney Todd, and others that I can't remember off the top of my head) that I just plain haven't finished. I'm kind of over entertaining myself with dark bleakness. (I felt secretly guilty about it until I saw the article in the Washington Post about this issue...) I get about halfway in and then look a spoiler up on the web. It's making my DH crazy.

Sunset Boulevard-- I have never seen this before (yes, Mike, I deserve twenty lashes...) so I figured it was high time. Gloria Swanson had always skeeved me out when she delivered the "I'm ready for my close-up..." line. I'm glad that I got over it. I now see why it is such a classic. (And I was surprised by the secondary love affair story line.)

That's as far as I've gotten. I got to see half of Madagascar II this weekend (in the theater! Oh, the joy!) before the bulb on the projector burned out and the employees said that we all needed to come back for another showing. Iwas incredibly proud of Mark-- he sat and watched like such a big boy. There's just something wistful and touching about watching your little boy sitting straight up in his seat, watching the movie intently. To quote Mike, good times.

No, I Haven't Fallen Off the Face of the Earth

I truly have been busy.

There was a confrontation between me and my co-worker. She had been snarky and rediculous for a full week. I avoided her until I got a chance to talk to her with no one else around. I calmly stated how I felt-- that she'd hurt my feelings and overwhelmed me when my husband was out of town and I was swamped. I was proud of myself because I know I don't usually confront well. Well, the result was that she didn't talk to me and wouldn't be around me at all for the rest of the week. On one hand, it made me angry that she generated drama about herself from me confronting her about how she'd hurt my feelings. On the other hand, I think that it's just really, really sad.

We finished sending all 100+ blankets around the world and we're now on a first-name basis with the little post office down the road. It was a fundraiser for troops that returned safely from Iraq-- DH's brother is back, safe and sound. While I bit off more than I thought I had with the project, I learned a lot about how to handle it.

Thanksgiving has been private and quiet. We didn't go anywhere. We didn't shop either. What I can't believe are all of the media reports of deep, deep discounts. Umm, where? I truly saw nothing that was worth rolling out of bed for-- at 4 am or 7 am. Give me a computer and websites with free shipping any day.

I'm still trying to finish pumpkin cheesecake and Dorie Greenspan's Spiced Cranberry Cake. My hint for the cranberry cake? Start with the glaze in the recipe, then cover with cream cheese frosting. Oh, and don't eat it the first day-- the flavors need a day to meld. And the America's Test Kitchen green bean casserole is heavenly-- just cut the bread crumb/fried onion topping in half. (It ends up soaking the delicious homemade cream of mushroom soup base, and you end up with green beans encased in soggy oniony mush when you reheat it.) And the meatloaf from the Fall issue of Cook's Illustrated? It made DH pledge his everlasting love to me. And he then transitioned to creative pro-mommy cheers coordinated with our toddler. Yeah, it is that good.

I'm going to teach this week, go to our staff holiday party Friday night, sell items at a craft show on Saturday, and Sunday I leave for New York City. I have never, ever been to NYC before. (Outer NJ/NY/CT suburbs, yes. JFK airport, yes. Any of the actual boroughs? Never.) I am going with other teachers to see the Rockettes Christmas show. The 10-year-old girl inside me is downright giddy. Department store window displays, Rockettes, urban holiday goodness. I truly cannot wait.

Later this month, it is time for our annual road trip to Minnesota. We'll pack our minivan, load in the DVDs, keep the apple juice and granola bar supply line going, and off we'll go.

My dilemma that I didn't anticipate is: How much do I build up this Santa thing? I've never been a mom before, and I'm a little unsure where to take all of this. I'm tempted to just let the Santa thing build naturally for him. I feel a bit ooky about creating this whole huge Santa myth that will inevitably be blown in a few years. Any advice on how to handle Santa with a two-year-old?

Whew!

Sorry about the lack of posts. I've had quite a few things going on.

I'm trying to get the house tamed. This doggone clutter is kicking my tail.

There are over a hundred blankets in my garage. Don't ask-- just trust me when I say that I need to learn how to say no.

I was observed today by my principal and the central office supervisor for our school. I was nervous, and my co-worker decided it was a good morning to come in my classroom to spew snark. She seems to think that it was funny. (Crickets chirping as I fail to laugh.)

My husband is on travel, of course.

My child has decided that when I am attempting to put him in his carseat is the perfect time to throw a ranting, kicking, screaming tantrum. (Yelling "Ow! Ow! Ow!" He acts like I'm hurting him. Uh, the way you're twisting yourself is where pain is coming from, kid.) Oh, yeah, when I try to take him out of daycare is also a great time for a tantrum. You know the 'How to throw a tantrum' YouTube video? She is a mere amateur compared to my child.

Thanksgiving is next week. The only prep I've done is to make homemade cranberry sauce. That's it. I'll be a busy girl.

I'm wiped. I'm really looking forward to some down time.