...because everyone is talking about fitness.
When we were in our teens and twenties, no one bothered to care. Or, at least that's the way it was in the circle of friends I had. When we entered our thirties, we pretended like our metabolisms hadn't slowed down and our pants were just shrinking.
Now, in our forties, we're all figuring out we have to do something about this slow, eventual body degradation, and we're taking action.
At a dinner with some friends and acquaintances over Memorial Day weekend, I was surprised to hear everyone was involved in some fitness endeavor or another. In my twenties, I would have scoffed at these folks. Now, I'm chiming in like the rest of them with what I'm doing to stay in shape.
The Big Boy Update: "I ate daddy up." This is a common theme with my son. I ask, "what did you eat today?" and he answers (sometimes) a food item. Other times, the answer is daddy. The answer is the most common answer he gives to any question about food consumption. This afternoon he went to the grocery store with daddy. He likes trying the samples. I asked him if he had some cheese (he did) and if he tried the ham (he said yes) and what else he ate, "I ate daddy." "You did? Are you sure you ate daddy?" "Yes, I ate him all up."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Where's daddy's gone?" She's been saying something quite a lot lately that's either, "where's daddy gone?" or "where's daddy's home?" I heard her ask the same thing about me when she didn't know where I was yesterday. She can also say her brother's name (in a fashion) now and will ask, "where's Greyson?"
Someone Once Said: When only one hypothesis covers the facts, you’ve got to accept it.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Inbox
I really hate a full inbox. On the flip side, I love nothing more than an empty inbox. I use my mail inbox as my funnel and storehouse for all things I must get done or attend to. So, the larger the inbox, the more mess I'm behind on.
There are handy to do lists and task minder tools out there. But no matter what tool I use, there's still the steady influx of email--email that must be taken care of. So, if I'm already dealing with the email. I might as well use my inbox as a to do list.
I can see how old things are that I haven't gotten done because I sort by date received. There's nothing more annoying than emails sitting in the "from one month ago" category at the bottom.
It is a strong motivator (for me) to get things done. It's not for other people. I know people who have thousands of emails in their inbox. They don't file them or delete them; they just read them. That works for them. I would be crushed by the electronic weight of their inboxes if it were me.
The Big Boy Update: So loud. He is having volume problems. I hear this isn't uncommon. He is just loud all the time. We're working on helping him find his "inside voice" and it's neighbor, his "quiet voice".
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Click! She has entered the phase in when she must click things together. Seat belts, the little restraining strap in the shopping cart or high chair. If you need fifteen minutes to get something done, just put her in front of a lap belt and she won't move from the spot.
Someone Once Said: You never had to endure that overpowering fatigue that comes with unending pain.
There are handy to do lists and task minder tools out there. But no matter what tool I use, there's still the steady influx of email--email that must be taken care of. So, if I'm already dealing with the email. I might as well use my inbox as a to do list.
I can see how old things are that I haven't gotten done because I sort by date received. There's nothing more annoying than emails sitting in the "from one month ago" category at the bottom.
It is a strong motivator (for me) to get things done. It's not for other people. I know people who have thousands of emails in their inbox. They don't file them or delete them; they just read them. That works for them. I would be crushed by the electronic weight of their inboxes if it were me.
The Big Boy Update: So loud. He is having volume problems. I hear this isn't uncommon. He is just loud all the time. We're working on helping him find his "inside voice" and it's neighbor, his "quiet voice".
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Click! She has entered the phase in when she must click things together. Seat belts, the little restraining strap in the shopping cart or high chair. If you need fifteen minutes to get something done, just put her in front of a lap belt and she won't move from the spot.
Someone Once Said: You never had to endure that overpowering fatigue that comes with unending pain.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
The Twenty Questions Stumper
I loved the game Twenty Questions from when I was a child. I played it up through college even when we were on long car rides. It's the typical, "I'll think of something and you have twenty yes/no questions you can ask me to try and determine what I'm thinking of."
For our rules, the thing you selected must be either a Person, a Place or a Thing. Over the years I got very good at narrowing things down quickly. Two of my personal favorite questions are: "is it bigger than a breadbox?" and "can you buy it at Wal*Mart?"
In general, we never counted questions. You were in it until you figured out the item or gave up. I thought of the game Twenty Questions today for a very specific reason: a smell. If you've ever played the game, you're sure to remember that one thing that was so clever you couldn't figure it out. You were probably assured you knew exactly what this thing was, but you didn't believe them. I have several things that happened to me like that, but I remember this one in particular.
I had narrowed it down to a flower. It was a flower that had small flowers and it was a flower I definitely knew the name of. What color were the flowers? They were yellow. And they were also white. No, it wasn't a bulb. It was a bush. I was lost. I had no idea of any bush that had both yellow and white small flowers at the same time that also had a smell.
The answer (for those that don't know what it could be) was honeysuckle. When I heard the answer I did the proverbial head slap. I love the smell and spent lots of time eating that one tiny drop of dew from each flower as a child. So to this day when I smell the delightful smell of spring honeysuckle, it makes me want to play twenty questions again.
The Big Boy Update: 12346679. That's the numbers up to ten I found out today. He was very clear on there being two sixes in a row.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba." Imagine that to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and then repeat forty-odd times. Now you have an idea of what I heard on the way to school as my daughter rode on the back of my bicycle in her child seat for the six miles to school. From time to time I would sing the words with her and it turns out she knows many of them and will sing along with you. But left to her solo singing, she always reverted back to the ba ba's.
Fitness Update: Today turned into an unexpectedly long workout day. First, I ran with my neighbor. We haven't run in several weeks as I've been concerned about shin splints. Good news on that front is there is zero pain and I think I'm back and ready to run. After breakfast daddy and I biked the children to school. It's a little less than six miles there and it was a fun time. It was less fun when I blew my tire more than a mile before I got home. Then, this afternoon Uncle Jonathan wanted to try out the new fitness room at our clubhouse. Before we knew it we'd been trying out machines and over an hour had gone by. I'm tired. So is daddy. He biked a total of seventeen miles today and went to the gym.
Someone Once Said: If you grab a bull by the horns, you at least confuse him.
For our rules, the thing you selected must be either a Person, a Place or a Thing. Over the years I got very good at narrowing things down quickly. Two of my personal favorite questions are: "is it bigger than a breadbox?" and "can you buy it at Wal*Mart?"
In general, we never counted questions. You were in it until you figured out the item or gave up. I thought of the game Twenty Questions today for a very specific reason: a smell. If you've ever played the game, you're sure to remember that one thing that was so clever you couldn't figure it out. You were probably assured you knew exactly what this thing was, but you didn't believe them. I have several things that happened to me like that, but I remember this one in particular.
I had narrowed it down to a flower. It was a flower that had small flowers and it was a flower I definitely knew the name of. What color were the flowers? They were yellow. And they were also white. No, it wasn't a bulb. It was a bush. I was lost. I had no idea of any bush that had both yellow and white small flowers at the same time that also had a smell.
The answer (for those that don't know what it could be) was honeysuckle. When I heard the answer I did the proverbial head slap. I love the smell and spent lots of time eating that one tiny drop of dew from each flower as a child. So to this day when I smell the delightful smell of spring honeysuckle, it makes me want to play twenty questions again.
The Big Boy Update: 12346679. That's the numbers up to ten I found out today. He was very clear on there being two sixes in a row.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba." Imagine that to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and then repeat forty-odd times. Now you have an idea of what I heard on the way to school as my daughter rode on the back of my bicycle in her child seat for the six miles to school. From time to time I would sing the words with her and it turns out she knows many of them and will sing along with you. But left to her solo singing, she always reverted back to the ba ba's.
Fitness Update: Today turned into an unexpectedly long workout day. First, I ran with my neighbor. We haven't run in several weeks as I've been concerned about shin splints. Good news on that front is there is zero pain and I think I'm back and ready to run. After breakfast daddy and I biked the children to school. It's a little less than six miles there and it was a fun time. It was less fun when I blew my tire more than a mile before I got home. Then, this afternoon Uncle Jonathan wanted to try out the new fitness room at our clubhouse. Before we knew it we'd been trying out machines and over an hour had gone by. I'm tired. So is daddy. He biked a total of seventeen miles today and went to the gym.
Someone Once Said: If you grab a bull by the horns, you at least confuse him.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Driving The Children
I was in college when I first moved into my own place. I don't count the dorm room a place of my own, I mean my first apartment, or in my case, townhouse. I was almost twenty and this fifteen-hundred square foot, three bedroom town home was the "House Mahal" to me. I lived in that house for over seven years, eventually buying it from the owner.
It was during that time that I made many friends that weren't my typical same-age peers from school. In the community I lived in there were people of all ages; some were retired, some were parents of multiple children and a few were young like I was. My neighbor became one of my good friends, and I eventually followed her when I moved to the new neighborhood she went to.
Marla had three children and they were all cute and sweet and fun to be around. I played with those children all the time. I did lots of fun things with them, including going to their birthday parties and lighting sparklers and I even got to wipe my first baby butt on a potty (which is a whole other story) during that time.
One day Marla asked me if I wanted to go to a show at the big amphitheater with the children. I was glad to go with them. They had great seats and the children were well-behaved. I remember Marla gave me twenty dollars for food for the children, which I thought was a crazy amount of money at the time. When the day arrived, we all got ready to go and we all loaded into my car.
I think they were all under ten and I'm fairly sure the youngest was about four. I remember driving very very carefully because I had three little lives in my hands and I wanted to be sure I did my best job. The show was fun, we spent that twenty dollars on food and then we came back home tired and happy.
What I don't remember is a single car seat. Don't we have to have children in car seats until they're eight or a certain "almost a tween" weight now? The rules were different back in 1991 I suppose, because I don't remember there being car seats in Marla's car either. Then again, I remember going to preschool in my parents car and not being in a car seat.
I don't see Marla much any more. Every now and then we run into each other and catch up. Her children are grown, her son can even say, "gloves" now instead of the little toddler version of, "glubs." He also doesn't need help from his neighbor because he'll fall in the potty if he tries to wipe his own bottom. But I miss those days back in my first town house with the fun children next door.
The Big Boy Update: He "NEEDS" to do a lot of things. Be it ice cream or getting down from the chair or having that thing over there that his sister has that he most definitely didn't want two seconds before until she decided it was interesting. Bottom line, we're spending a lot of time asking him to use his "polite words" because he sounds like a very demanding little boy of late.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Falling asleep in the swing. She didn't nap for the longest time today. When Madison, our neighbor, went out to play on her swing set we went to join her. But unfortunately the swinging motion was too much for her and my little girl fell straight asleep with the swaying motion.
Someone Once Said: A diplomat must always act with confidence; it is often his only weapon
It was during that time that I made many friends that weren't my typical same-age peers from school. In the community I lived in there were people of all ages; some were retired, some were parents of multiple children and a few were young like I was. My neighbor became one of my good friends, and I eventually followed her when I moved to the new neighborhood she went to.
Marla had three children and they were all cute and sweet and fun to be around. I played with those children all the time. I did lots of fun things with them, including going to their birthday parties and lighting sparklers and I even got to wipe my first baby butt on a potty (which is a whole other story) during that time.
One day Marla asked me if I wanted to go to a show at the big amphitheater with the children. I was glad to go with them. They had great seats and the children were well-behaved. I remember Marla gave me twenty dollars for food for the children, which I thought was a crazy amount of money at the time. When the day arrived, we all got ready to go and we all loaded into my car.
I think they were all under ten and I'm fairly sure the youngest was about four. I remember driving very very carefully because I had three little lives in my hands and I wanted to be sure I did my best job. The show was fun, we spent that twenty dollars on food and then we came back home tired and happy.
What I don't remember is a single car seat. Don't we have to have children in car seats until they're eight or a certain "almost a tween" weight now? The rules were different back in 1991 I suppose, because I don't remember there being car seats in Marla's car either. Then again, I remember going to preschool in my parents car and not being in a car seat.
I don't see Marla much any more. Every now and then we run into each other and catch up. Her children are grown, her son can even say, "gloves" now instead of the little toddler version of, "glubs." He also doesn't need help from his neighbor because he'll fall in the potty if he tries to wipe his own bottom. But I miss those days back in my first town house with the fun children next door.
The Big Boy Update: He "NEEDS" to do a lot of things. Be it ice cream or getting down from the chair or having that thing over there that his sister has that he most definitely didn't want two seconds before until she decided it was interesting. Bottom line, we're spending a lot of time asking him to use his "polite words" because he sounds like a very demanding little boy of late.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Falling asleep in the swing. She didn't nap for the longest time today. When Madison, our neighbor, went out to play on her swing set we went to join her. But unfortunately the swinging motion was too much for her and my little girl fell straight asleep with the swaying motion.
Someone Once Said: A diplomat must always act with confidence; it is often his only weapon
Monday, May 27, 2013
(.) or (). Help
I need to get back on my grammar study. I've been doing a lot of writing with parenthesis. It's become apparent to me I don't know when to put the period of a sentence inside the parenthesis and when to put it outside. I just don't know.
I don't know if it's correct (to end inside.) Or should I finish thusly (with the period outside). Also, that last sentence was a question, so the punctuation was completely off, but you get the point and that is that I don't know.
I think it has something to do with where the thought ends, but I'm going to have to figure that part out. More when I know more.
The Big Boy Update: Rock head. His hat was wet. It was drenched, and I didn't know why. Why should his hat be completely wet the other day? I asked Papa about it. Apparently my son had found a large, exciting, can't possibly live without rock and while they were on walkabout and he needed to bring it home. It was heavy. It was too heavy to easily carry so my son decided to carry it on his head. On his head was a hat. The hat protected his head from the mud on the rock. So that's why the hat was wet--because it was washed after the rock made it home.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Reesegression. That's what I'm calling this potty training regression Reese is going through. It fits. Today, she had on underpants. I brought in a dress to put her in. I put it on the floor. She got up, walked over to the dress, squatted over it and peed through her underwear directly onto it. Was that a message?
Someone Once Said: There are situations in which courage is useless. One finds such a situation only once.
I don't know if it's correct (to end inside.) Or should I finish thusly (with the period outside). Also, that last sentence was a question, so the punctuation was completely off, but you get the point and that is that I don't know.
I think it has something to do with where the thought ends, but I'm going to have to figure that part out. More when I know more.
The Big Boy Update: Rock head. His hat was wet. It was drenched, and I didn't know why. Why should his hat be completely wet the other day? I asked Papa about it. Apparently my son had found a large, exciting, can't possibly live without rock and while they were on walkabout and he needed to bring it home. It was heavy. It was too heavy to easily carry so my son decided to carry it on his head. On his head was a hat. The hat protected his head from the mud on the rock. So that's why the hat was wet--because it was washed after the rock made it home.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Reesegression. That's what I'm calling this potty training regression Reese is going through. It fits. Today, she had on underpants. I brought in a dress to put her in. I put it on the floor. She got up, walked over to the dress, squatted over it and peed through her underwear directly onto it. Was that a message?
Someone Once Said: There are situations in which courage is useless. One finds such a situation only once.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
The Requesters and The Accepters
I am not a shy person. If you know me or have even met me once, you would know this to be so. Except in one situation: anything online.
I don't have an explanation. I haven't had any bad online experiences. But I'm just not outgoing electronically. I don't crave an expansive online presence. I don't post on forums ad nauseum with extended reasons why my opinion is right and everyone else is wrong. I don't tweet on Twitter multiple times each day about the nuances of my life. And I don't fill up people's Facebook timeline with my thoughts, ideas, or re-postings about things I find "cute", "important", or "horrifyingly unjust". I guess I just don't expect people to care about the details of what's going on to in my life.
I don't even seek out friends online. Long ago I spent lots of time in IRC (Internet Relay Chat, one of the predecessors to the instant messaging craze). I didn't speak online much then and when I did, it was to people I usually already knew. Today, I do have a Facebook page, but so far, I have only invited one person to be my friend and I was helping him set up his account at the time.
Do you know people who seem to measure their social self-worth by the number of friends they have on Facebook? I'm frequently shocked to see someone I know on Facebook with over a thousand friends. I don't want to share my life's activities with a thousand people. Sure, some people have a large Facebook presence for business purposes, but that doesn't apply to everyone. I now have just over eighty friends on Facebook. That seems like a lot to me.
Recently, I've gotten a slew of friend requests on Facebook due to a single connection at my child's school. That one person commented on a picture of me as a child and their friends, all related to the school and all people I knew, saw the comment and sent me a friend invite. I accepted their invitations and then I realized what a total Facebook bore I am as I haven't put up a single post since Halloween when I shared a picture of my daughter in her elephant costume. That silent online pressure was getting to me with these new friends. So I put up a cute picture of my daughter in a mound of bath bubbles.
I class myself as an Accepter. I don't invite people online to be friends. It's that shy thing again. There are friends of friends I see out there sometimes through comments and connections. I've even looked up several people I've known from my past with relatively uncommon names and I've found them. But I've never sent a friend invitation. And I'm not sure why. I just can't be one of those Requester types.
So I'll have to suffice in being outgoing in real life (IRL) and have a more boring existence here, online.
The Big Boy Update: McDonald's Fries. We drove by McDonald's yesterday and he said, "McDonald's Fries" instead of "chickenfries." He may well grow out of the name before the adults around him do of saying his cute alternate name for all things McDonald's, chicken nuggets and french fries.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Where's Papa?" Before the children got up, Papa came downstairs and was cutting up fruit. He asked if they were awake and I turned on the monitor to see if they were making noise. Very shortly after that we heard my daughter say, "Where's Papa?" So, Papa stopped cutting up the fruit to go and see her.
Fitness Update: I went to the fitness room today at the clubhouse that's just opened in our neighborhood. I had a fun time on the machines, but the most fun was the elliptical machine. I didn't like the motion of it, it seemed awkward. But then I pressed the Mix Three button (or something like that) and it started going through all sorts of neat exercises that were more fun than just running forward. You used your arms to push or pull. Sometimes you'd walk backwards. You might crouch down or stand up on your toes. I intended to try it for five minutes and before I knew it it was fifteen minutes later and the machine was still giving me new exercises to try. It was fun.
Someone Once Said: If you can't define a word, you don't know what it means.
I don't have an explanation. I haven't had any bad online experiences. But I'm just not outgoing electronically. I don't crave an expansive online presence. I don't post on forums ad nauseum with extended reasons why my opinion is right and everyone else is wrong. I don't tweet on Twitter multiple times each day about the nuances of my life. And I don't fill up people's Facebook timeline with my thoughts, ideas, or re-postings about things I find "cute", "important", or "horrifyingly unjust". I guess I just don't expect people to care about the details of what's going on to in my life.
I don't even seek out friends online. Long ago I spent lots of time in IRC (Internet Relay Chat, one of the predecessors to the instant messaging craze). I didn't speak online much then and when I did, it was to people I usually already knew. Today, I do have a Facebook page, but so far, I have only invited one person to be my friend and I was helping him set up his account at the time.
Do you know people who seem to measure their social self-worth by the number of friends they have on Facebook? I'm frequently shocked to see someone I know on Facebook with over a thousand friends. I don't want to share my life's activities with a thousand people. Sure, some people have a large Facebook presence for business purposes, but that doesn't apply to everyone. I now have just over eighty friends on Facebook. That seems like a lot to me.
Recently, I've gotten a slew of friend requests on Facebook due to a single connection at my child's school. That one person commented on a picture of me as a child and their friends, all related to the school and all people I knew, saw the comment and sent me a friend invite. I accepted their invitations and then I realized what a total Facebook bore I am as I haven't put up a single post since Halloween when I shared a picture of my daughter in her elephant costume. That silent online pressure was getting to me with these new friends. So I put up a cute picture of my daughter in a mound of bath bubbles.
I class myself as an Accepter. I don't invite people online to be friends. It's that shy thing again. There are friends of friends I see out there sometimes through comments and connections. I've even looked up several people I've known from my past with relatively uncommon names and I've found them. But I've never sent a friend invitation. And I'm not sure why. I just can't be one of those Requester types.
So I'll have to suffice in being outgoing in real life (IRL) and have a more boring existence here, online.
The Big Boy Update: McDonald's Fries. We drove by McDonald's yesterday and he said, "McDonald's Fries" instead of "chickenfries." He may well grow out of the name before the adults around him do of saying his cute alternate name for all things McDonald's, chicken nuggets and french fries.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Where's Papa?" Before the children got up, Papa came downstairs and was cutting up fruit. He asked if they were awake and I turned on the monitor to see if they were making noise. Very shortly after that we heard my daughter say, "Where's Papa?" So, Papa stopped cutting up the fruit to go and see her.
Fitness Update: I went to the fitness room today at the clubhouse that's just opened in our neighborhood. I had a fun time on the machines, but the most fun was the elliptical machine. I didn't like the motion of it, it seemed awkward. But then I pressed the Mix Three button (or something like that) and it started going through all sorts of neat exercises that were more fun than just running forward. You used your arms to push or pull. Sometimes you'd walk backwards. You might crouch down or stand up on your toes. I intended to try it for five minutes and before I knew it it was fifteen minutes later and the machine was still giving me new exercises to try. It was fun.
Someone Once Said: If you can't define a word, you don't know what it means.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
PFE
Drat. Not again. So I have an issue with my washing machine. It's not an issue of something broken, it's an issue that comes up from time to time that is a hassle. I get told about the issue by the error letters PFE displayed on the washer front when I go to move the clothes over to the dryer.
The clothes, it turns out, aren't ready to be moved to the dryer. They are drenched and the door is locked to the washing machine and nothing, including turning off the power or unplugging it will let you get your clothes out, short of a sledge hammer. I discovered this because I used to fight the PFE. Now, I just accept the PFE, get down to correcting the PFE situation and am back up and running (or rather rinsing and spinning) the laundry.
I don't know what PFE stands for, but what it means is some small item, say for instance a small child's sock, has gotten sucked in through the edge of the washing bin and been trapped in the drain catch. This is fine. It's appropriate. It's working as designed, because it's better to get something stuck in the trap, versus further down the line at an unknown and possibly unreachable point. But getting to the trap takes time.
First, you have to open the hatch on the front of the dryer. Then you have to drain all the water that's backed up and can't drain out of the machine. This is the reason the PFE message comes up. The machine can't dump more water into the system when it can't drain what's already in cycle. So you open and drain lots of water out of a small tube. This part took me a while to get efficient.
That tube is near the ground so you can't drain it with a large bucket. You need a second, smaller receptacle to catch the water, but you need that large bucket because you're going to be filling the smaller container again and again. Once several gallons of water have been emptied and the drain tube stops leaking, you can open the trap itself and remove the very dark blue black sock that used to be white before it got stuck in the system.
Back out by closing the trap and putting the access door back on and all you have to do is press start on the machine and it picks up right where it left off. I used to hate this message, but now it's about a ten minute job. It's also interesting to find out what got stuck in the trap this time.
The Big Boy Update: Daddy overheard my son tell Papa he needed to go potty. They went into the bathroom and Papa waited for him to go. When Papa asked him if he needed to go, since he had said he did only moments before, my son said, "It's your turn to go potty. You take down your pants."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: The Very Best Ball. My daughter still loves balls. She sees balls in anything and everything, but there is one ball above all others she is infatuated with. She loves the red white and blue Pepsi logo. It's gotten so regular an occurrence that now when she randomly says, "ball!" I look around for the Pepsi symbol.
Someone Once Said: Butterflies are not insects. They are self-propelled flowers.
The clothes, it turns out, aren't ready to be moved to the dryer. They are drenched and the door is locked to the washing machine and nothing, including turning off the power or unplugging it will let you get your clothes out, short of a sledge hammer. I discovered this because I used to fight the PFE. Now, I just accept the PFE, get down to correcting the PFE situation and am back up and running (or rather rinsing and spinning) the laundry.
I don't know what PFE stands for, but what it means is some small item, say for instance a small child's sock, has gotten sucked in through the edge of the washing bin and been trapped in the drain catch. This is fine. It's appropriate. It's working as designed, because it's better to get something stuck in the trap, versus further down the line at an unknown and possibly unreachable point. But getting to the trap takes time.
First, you have to open the hatch on the front of the dryer. Then you have to drain all the water that's backed up and can't drain out of the machine. This is the reason the PFE message comes up. The machine can't dump more water into the system when it can't drain what's already in cycle. So you open and drain lots of water out of a small tube. This part took me a while to get efficient.
That tube is near the ground so you can't drain it with a large bucket. You need a second, smaller receptacle to catch the water, but you need that large bucket because you're going to be filling the smaller container again and again. Once several gallons of water have been emptied and the drain tube stops leaking, you can open the trap itself and remove the very dark blue black sock that used to be white before it got stuck in the system.
Back out by closing the trap and putting the access door back on and all you have to do is press start on the machine and it picks up right where it left off. I used to hate this message, but now it's about a ten minute job. It's also interesting to find out what got stuck in the trap this time.
The Big Boy Update: Daddy overheard my son tell Papa he needed to go potty. They went into the bathroom and Papa waited for him to go. When Papa asked him if he needed to go, since he had said he did only moments before, my son said, "It's your turn to go potty. You take down your pants."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: The Very Best Ball. My daughter still loves balls. She sees balls in anything and everything, but there is one ball above all others she is infatuated with. She loves the red white and blue Pepsi logo. It's gotten so regular an occurrence that now when she randomly says, "ball!" I look around for the Pepsi symbol.
Someone Once Said: Butterflies are not insects. They are self-propelled flowers.
Friday, May 24, 2013
The Junior High Pickup Regret
Do you have something you regret from long ago that wasn't a big thing in and of itself, but is something you wish you could redo just the same? Does the memory of that event haunt you in some small way because it should have happened differently? You think maybe by running through it in your mind once more you'll be able to put it to rest?
I have one of those memories. It was at the end of the school day during junior high school one day. Normally, my mother would pick me up and take me home, but on this day, my mother had a meeting or some other commitment and she couldn't be there to pick me up. She worked at a college and she worked for the president of the college.
Given my age, my mother must have just started working with the president. I remember hearing about this story from my mother's perspective. She told me she couldn't find anyone to pick me up, and the president, overhearing her conversation offered to have his wife pick me up. When mom tells this story, she says she didn't know what to say and that she was uncomfortable accepting this kind offer, just because she wasn't able to find someone herself. But she did accept the offer.
So that afternoon, I knew the president's wife would be there to pick me up. I, too, felt a little awkward. Not because his wife--her name was Frankie--was unkind or aloof or any negative adjective I can think of. On the contrary, she was one of the most friendly, outgoing people you'd ever want to meet.
As I was walking up to the front of the building after the final bell, I say my next door neighbor. getting in the car with her mom. Her mother asked me if I had a ride home and I said I did, but I could go with her instead and save the other person the trouble. It was at that point that I saw Frankie.
And this is the part that kills me because I saw her smile--she had the best smile--and wave to me from across the parking lot. I believe I yelled over that I had a ride and thank you very much for the offer. And she with all the grace and poise she always had told me that was great and she would see me soon. Then I got in my friends car and left.
I was trying to save her the trouble, but that's wasn't the point and I realized it soon after. I should have accepted her offer, gotten in the car with her and been appreciative of her time to take me home. Just because she was the wife of my mother's boss made no difference. My attempt to be helpful by not incommoding her I think now, was more of an insult than anything.
Did she think it was so? From everything I learned about her as we became friends over the years to come, I don't think she thought a thing of it. She raised three children herself and any mother knows children don't usually mean to be hurtful. What does happen a lot is they're inconsiderate, usually due to youth.
Still, that big smile and wave that day sticks with me. I will always wish I had gone home with her and not my neighbor.
The Big Boy Update: "I need to go potty." This happens a lot lately, usually during a meal. He will look up, tell you he has to go potty and then repeat himself a second time. We don't mess around with these statements, he goes straight away. #progress
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Two daddys." She found daddy's business cards yesterday. She had one business card in each hand and was looking at the picture of daddy on each card. She came into the room, held up the cards and said, "two daddys."
Fitness Update: I went to the gym and then later this afternoon I tried out the fitness equipment at the clubhouse. It's nice. I hadn't done many of the exercises before because Don usually has us doing crazy things that are just as difficult, if not more so, while being twice as fun as a boring old machine.
Someone Once Said: All an artist can teach is technique. Creativity can’t be taught and each artist has his own sort.
I have one of those memories. It was at the end of the school day during junior high school one day. Normally, my mother would pick me up and take me home, but on this day, my mother had a meeting or some other commitment and she couldn't be there to pick me up. She worked at a college and she worked for the president of the college.
Given my age, my mother must have just started working with the president. I remember hearing about this story from my mother's perspective. She told me she couldn't find anyone to pick me up, and the president, overhearing her conversation offered to have his wife pick me up. When mom tells this story, she says she didn't know what to say and that she was uncomfortable accepting this kind offer, just because she wasn't able to find someone herself. But she did accept the offer.
So that afternoon, I knew the president's wife would be there to pick me up. I, too, felt a little awkward. Not because his wife--her name was Frankie--was unkind or aloof or any negative adjective I can think of. On the contrary, she was one of the most friendly, outgoing people you'd ever want to meet.
As I was walking up to the front of the building after the final bell, I say my next door neighbor. getting in the car with her mom. Her mother asked me if I had a ride home and I said I did, but I could go with her instead and save the other person the trouble. It was at that point that I saw Frankie.
And this is the part that kills me because I saw her smile--she had the best smile--and wave to me from across the parking lot. I believe I yelled over that I had a ride and thank you very much for the offer. And she with all the grace and poise she always had told me that was great and she would see me soon. Then I got in my friends car and left.
I was trying to save her the trouble, but that's wasn't the point and I realized it soon after. I should have accepted her offer, gotten in the car with her and been appreciative of her time to take me home. Just because she was the wife of my mother's boss made no difference. My attempt to be helpful by not incommoding her I think now, was more of an insult than anything.
Did she think it was so? From everything I learned about her as we became friends over the years to come, I don't think she thought a thing of it. She raised three children herself and any mother knows children don't usually mean to be hurtful. What does happen a lot is they're inconsiderate, usually due to youth.
Still, that big smile and wave that day sticks with me. I will always wish I had gone home with her and not my neighbor.
The Big Boy Update: "I need to go potty." This happens a lot lately, usually during a meal. He will look up, tell you he has to go potty and then repeat himself a second time. We don't mess around with these statements, he goes straight away. #progress
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Two daddys." She found daddy's business cards yesterday. She had one business card in each hand and was looking at the picture of daddy on each card. She came into the room, held up the cards and said, "two daddys."
Fitness Update: I went to the gym and then later this afternoon I tried out the fitness equipment at the clubhouse. It's nice. I hadn't done many of the exercises before because Don usually has us doing crazy things that are just as difficult, if not more so, while being twice as fun as a boring old machine.
Someone Once Said: All an artist can teach is technique. Creativity can’t be taught and each artist has his own sort.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Banking Day
Do you remember when the banking day would end right in the middle of the work day? For most of my life, the banking day would end at 2:00 PM. After that time, any transactions, deposits, etc., would show up on the following day.
I had forgotten about that until yesterday when it appears I broke an ATM. I was in the middle of depositing a check and all was going as expected, when the ATM told me there had been an error, spit out my card and promptly shut down saying it was offline and would be back soon.
At that point, I looked at the time to see if it was around two o'clock. Historically, the bank would take down each ATM in turn to close out transactions on it and start the next banking business day when it was brought back online.
These days with the advances in electronic communication and speed of computer processors, banks can more easily get their bank-to-bank transactions done in the evening, without having a portion of the main business day devoted to closing out the prior day.
I don't know when my bank switched over to full banking days. I wonder how many years it's been now...
The Big Boy Update: "I'm a girl." He told me this morning on the way to school that he was a girl. He told me his sister was a girl too. I asked him if he was sure he was a girl or did he think he might be a boy instead? But no, he said he was sure he was a girl.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Regression! I asked her teacher this morning what had happened to her potty training. It appears she's regressed. She refuses to make any sort of production on the potty. She likes sitting on the potty, will tell you she needs to go or has gone or wants to go, but then nothing happens. Nothing that is, until three minutes after you put her pants back on. Her teacher agreed with me and said this happens. She also said to have her run around naked all weekend and to keep the potty handy. Sometimes that fixes the issue.
Fitness Update: Don made me do something at the gym this morning that I didn't understand. He had me drop the ropes I was working on, bend my arms at the elbows and hold my arms upwards. Then he had me turn on a forty-five degree angle. I was looking at him waiting for more explanation on what to do, confident in the fact that it wasn't going to be easy, when he said, "Now make some muscles." Then I realized he'd put me in a pose position and I had totally fallen for it.
Someone Once Said: Never try to outstubborn a cat.
I had forgotten about that until yesterday when it appears I broke an ATM. I was in the middle of depositing a check and all was going as expected, when the ATM told me there had been an error, spit out my card and promptly shut down saying it was offline and would be back soon.
At that point, I looked at the time to see if it was around two o'clock. Historically, the bank would take down each ATM in turn to close out transactions on it and start the next banking business day when it was brought back online.
These days with the advances in electronic communication and speed of computer processors, banks can more easily get their bank-to-bank transactions done in the evening, without having a portion of the main business day devoted to closing out the prior day.
I don't know when my bank switched over to full banking days. I wonder how many years it's been now...
The Big Boy Update: "I'm a girl." He told me this morning on the way to school that he was a girl. He told me his sister was a girl too. I asked him if he was sure he was a girl or did he think he might be a boy instead? But no, he said he was sure he was a girl.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Regression! I asked her teacher this morning what had happened to her potty training. It appears she's regressed. She refuses to make any sort of production on the potty. She likes sitting on the potty, will tell you she needs to go or has gone or wants to go, but then nothing happens. Nothing that is, until three minutes after you put her pants back on. Her teacher agreed with me and said this happens. She also said to have her run around naked all weekend and to keep the potty handy. Sometimes that fixes the issue.
Fitness Update: Don made me do something at the gym this morning that I didn't understand. He had me drop the ropes I was working on, bend my arms at the elbows and hold my arms upwards. Then he had me turn on a forty-five degree angle. I was looking at him waiting for more explanation on what to do, confident in the fact that it wasn't going to be easy, when he said, "Now make some muscles." Then I realized he'd put me in a pose position and I had totally fallen for it.
Someone Once Said: Never try to outstubborn a cat.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Pool Open
We live in a new neighborhood. The neighborhood hasn't taken any homeowners dues yet, because the clubhouse and pool hasn't existed. With the recent resurgence in the economy--or at least the resurgence from what I can all around this neighborhood--they were able to build and complete the clubhouse and pool. And the pool opened on Monday.
Monday heralded in the grand pool opening with a down pouring of rain. Tuesday wasn't much better. Today, however, was sunny and pleasant weather. Three families from our street went over to swim and sit in the sun late afternoon.
The children loved it. The parents talked. The water wasn't that warm, but it wasn't that cold either. I predict it's going to be a fun summer.
The Big Boy Update: Help, I stuck. He got stuck, behind the chair in the master the other day. The chair is in the corner and he climbed over, only to get stuck in the corner pocket of chair and walls. Daddy honed in on him via his calls of, "help, I stuck."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Water shy. She loves water as in pool water, but today she was a little more reserved. I have a feeling in a few days she'll be all about the water again though.
Fitness Update: Three miles, walking, with the dog. My dog has some arthritis in her knees. The veterinarian said exercise would be good for her. Today she walked longer than she has in a long time. She was tired when we got home from the walk in the park.
Someone Once Said: The correct way to punctuate a sentence that starts: "Of course it is none of my business but --" is to place a period after the word "but."
Monday heralded in the grand pool opening with a down pouring of rain. Tuesday wasn't much better. Today, however, was sunny and pleasant weather. Three families from our street went over to swim and sit in the sun late afternoon.
The children loved it. The parents talked. The water wasn't that warm, but it wasn't that cold either. I predict it's going to be a fun summer.
The Big Boy Update: Help, I stuck. He got stuck, behind the chair in the master the other day. The chair is in the corner and he climbed over, only to get stuck in the corner pocket of chair and walls. Daddy honed in on him via his calls of, "help, I stuck."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Water shy. She loves water as in pool water, but today she was a little more reserved. I have a feeling in a few days she'll be all about the water again though.
Fitness Update: Three miles, walking, with the dog. My dog has some arthritis in her knees. The veterinarian said exercise would be good for her. Today she walked longer than she has in a long time. She was tired when we got home from the walk in the park.
Someone Once Said: The correct way to punctuate a sentence that starts: "Of course it is none of my business but --" is to place a period after the word "but."
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Shoehorns and Uncomfortable Shoes
I was reminded of shoehorns the other day. Do you remember those? Actually, what I mean is, "do you have a shoehorn?" Do you have more than one? Do you have the fancy, long-handled one that you can use while standing up so you're not incommoded by having to sit down and lean over while you put on your shoes?
I don't have a shoehorn. I'm sure some of you do have shoehorns though. I haven't thought about them in a long time. I remember needing them for shoes when I was little; I would get new shoes and the person at the shoe store would help me into the tight, uncomfortable shoes with a shoehorn because that's what it took sometimes to get those new shoes on.
And talking about uncomfortable, remember that protracted "breaking in" phase for any new pair of shoes? You would suffer through the first few weeks because it took a while for the leather or rubber or plastic or shoe stuff to work in to the shape of your feet.
I haven't thought about uncomfortable shoes in years. Today, if I buy uncomfortable shoes, it's because I didn't make a wise decision at the shoe store. My children get new shoes regularly and they don't know anything other than comfortable feet because the leathers are soft and supple and the rubber material gives in just the right way the very first time you put them on.
Do they still make uncomfortable, hard to break in shoes any more? Do they do so just to keep the shoehorn people in business?
The Big Boy Update: "I want to go in the car and find Nana and Papa" He said this a while back, shortly after Nana and Papa had left from a visit. It appears he wasn't ready for them to leave.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter brought me the remote control for the television yesterday. I took it and asked her what she wanted. She looked at me, looked at the television and then said, "Mouse." Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is the only show we record and their one television treat when we need a break. I couldn't refuse such a cute request though; she got the Mouse.
Fitness Update: I went to the gym today and coughed through the whole workout. This productive cough that's given me a spiking fever more than once now needed to be checked. The doctor this afternoon put me on an antibiotic and said I have either "an upper respiratory infection" if you don't want to startle people, because that's exactly what it is. Or, more specifically, I've got "walking pneumonia" which is best checked with a test but won't make a darned bit of difference in how it's treated, so why bother. She said the reason it wasn't bothering me that much might be because I'm in good cardiovascular shape. Did she know she just made my day by saying that? She said in three days I'll feel much better. I'm looking forward to that.
Someone Once Said: Expertise in one field does not carry over into other fields. But experts often think so. The narrower their field of knowledge the more likely they are to think so.
I don't have a shoehorn. I'm sure some of you do have shoehorns though. I haven't thought about them in a long time. I remember needing them for shoes when I was little; I would get new shoes and the person at the shoe store would help me into the tight, uncomfortable shoes with a shoehorn because that's what it took sometimes to get those new shoes on.
And talking about uncomfortable, remember that protracted "breaking in" phase for any new pair of shoes? You would suffer through the first few weeks because it took a while for the leather or rubber or plastic or shoe stuff to work in to the shape of your feet.
I haven't thought about uncomfortable shoes in years. Today, if I buy uncomfortable shoes, it's because I didn't make a wise decision at the shoe store. My children get new shoes regularly and they don't know anything other than comfortable feet because the leathers are soft and supple and the rubber material gives in just the right way the very first time you put them on.
Do they still make uncomfortable, hard to break in shoes any more? Do they do so just to keep the shoehorn people in business?
The Big Boy Update: "I want to go in the car and find Nana and Papa" He said this a while back, shortly after Nana and Papa had left from a visit. It appears he wasn't ready for them to leave.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter brought me the remote control for the television yesterday. I took it and asked her what she wanted. She looked at me, looked at the television and then said, "Mouse." Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is the only show we record and their one television treat when we need a break. I couldn't refuse such a cute request though; she got the Mouse.
Fitness Update: I went to the gym today and coughed through the whole workout. This productive cough that's given me a spiking fever more than once now needed to be checked. The doctor this afternoon put me on an antibiotic and said I have either "an upper respiratory infection" if you don't want to startle people, because that's exactly what it is. Or, more specifically, I've got "walking pneumonia" which is best checked with a test but won't make a darned bit of difference in how it's treated, so why bother. She said the reason it wasn't bothering me that much might be because I'm in good cardiovascular shape. Did she know she just made my day by saying that? She said in three days I'll feel much better. I'm looking forward to that.
Someone Once Said: Expertise in one field does not carry over into other fields. But experts often think so. The narrower their field of knowledge the more likely they are to think so.
Monday, May 20, 2013
I'd Be Glad To...
I've been impressed with the relative lack of drama at our children's school. To be sure, there is some, but it's mostly a few people and the rest of the people I hear talking about it are more of the, "that's a real shame" opinion rather than the, "you won't believe what I heard!" kind of attitude.
I've also seen people step up to responsibilities just because no one else was doing the work. When people are asked if they can help, they say, "sure". Those tasks many times aren't glamorous; they're not fun and only a few people will even realize how much work went into getting the job done when they're finished. But they do it because the school is important to them and they respect the work and commitment of others around them.
I've been asked to do a lot of things for the school; many of them have been unexpected and several of them I've been honored to be even considered. I got another request to help the other day, and this time it was one of those non-glamorous, not exciting, definitely boring jobs. Could I look into trash and recycling options?
I don't know the first thing about trash. I know I put mine into the bins and my husband takes them to the curb once a week and they get taken away. I have not a clue what a corporation or school or museum does to make that happen. I've seen dumpsters. Hell, I've even illegally used them when I could find no other location to put trash when I was on vacation. Am I the best person for the job?
I don't think I am. But that didn't matter. It's the attitude that matters. It's finding out that yes, businesses contract with a trash/recycling company to collect their waste. It's determining what size bins or dumpsters we'll need and the frequency of the collection we require. It's figuring out how large a concrete pad and what enclosure we'll need at the new school to ensure as we grow, we'll have enough capacity.
I wasn't excited about the email. I didn't like the request. I responded, "I'd be glad to look into it." And even though I didn't really want to do the job, I felt encouraged to do a better, more thorough job because I'd been able to be positive about agreeing to do it. Who know, trash may turn out to be fascinating.
The Big Boy Update: He is getting a lot more imaginative lately. He plays with his toys and those toys are doing things--things that require imagination. Most of his imagination ideas involve trucks, hooks, dump trucks and elephants. Yesterday morning, there was a pig driving the dump truck and an elephant working the excavator.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Big potty no go. She needs to go potty when we're out and about. Sometime she'll even tell you. She will happily sit on the big potty while you squat down in front of her, trying not to sit on the dirty floor or drop her into the toilet. She will talk to you about many things, most of which you can't understand. But she won't go potty in the big toilet.
Someone Once Said: Great wealth is a curse—unless you enjoy moneymaking for its own sake. Even then it has serious drawbacks.
I've also seen people step up to responsibilities just because no one else was doing the work. When people are asked if they can help, they say, "sure". Those tasks many times aren't glamorous; they're not fun and only a few people will even realize how much work went into getting the job done when they're finished. But they do it because the school is important to them and they respect the work and commitment of others around them.
I've been asked to do a lot of things for the school; many of them have been unexpected and several of them I've been honored to be even considered. I got another request to help the other day, and this time it was one of those non-glamorous, not exciting, definitely boring jobs. Could I look into trash and recycling options?
I don't know the first thing about trash. I know I put mine into the bins and my husband takes them to the curb once a week and they get taken away. I have not a clue what a corporation or school or museum does to make that happen. I've seen dumpsters. Hell, I've even illegally used them when I could find no other location to put trash when I was on vacation. Am I the best person for the job?
I don't think I am. But that didn't matter. It's the attitude that matters. It's finding out that yes, businesses contract with a trash/recycling company to collect their waste. It's determining what size bins or dumpsters we'll need and the frequency of the collection we require. It's figuring out how large a concrete pad and what enclosure we'll need at the new school to ensure as we grow, we'll have enough capacity.
I wasn't excited about the email. I didn't like the request. I responded, "I'd be glad to look into it." And even though I didn't really want to do the job, I felt encouraged to do a better, more thorough job because I'd been able to be positive about agreeing to do it. Who know, trash may turn out to be fascinating.
The Big Boy Update: He is getting a lot more imaginative lately. He plays with his toys and those toys are doing things--things that require imagination. Most of his imagination ideas involve trucks, hooks, dump trucks and elephants. Yesterday morning, there was a pig driving the dump truck and an elephant working the excavator.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Big potty no go. She needs to go potty when we're out and about. Sometime she'll even tell you. She will happily sit on the big potty while you squat down in front of her, trying not to sit on the dirty floor or drop her into the toilet. She will talk to you about many things, most of which you can't understand. But she won't go potty in the big toilet.
Someone Once Said: Great wealth is a curse—unless you enjoy moneymaking for its own sake. Even then it has serious drawbacks.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
The Cherry Squeeze Its Ticket
Have you ever been suspected of doing something illegal, bad, wrong, when you weren't up to anything naughty at all? This happened to me many years ago when I was still in college.
I remember I was driving my little silver Honda Accord. I did love that car. I loved it for longer than I've loved any other car since. It took me through high school and college until I could afford to buy myself my own car.
One day I was driving down a road just around the corner from where I live now. It was night and it was dark. I don't know where I was going; it could have been Wal*Mart though. I do like to shop at Wal*Mart. Suddenly, unexpectedly, I saw the lights of a police car behind me.
I looked at the speedometer. No, I wasn't going fast enough to get a speeding ticket. What could it be? The officer came up to my window and asked me if I was drinking. I was drinking. I was drinking a Cherry Squeeze Its. These things were so delicious. You twisted off the plastic cap and then drank this cherry juice that was very much like a melted cherry Popsicle.
I showed him what I was drinking and then I realized he had seen me driving and drinking and thought it was a beer. He said I could go on my way and to drive safely (and don't we all drive safely after narrowly escaping a ticket?)
I haven't seen those Squeeze Its in a long long time. I just looked them up online and am surprised to see there's very little about them available. I did find a picture of them though. Oh, such delicious memories...
The Big Boy Update: "Where are my pickles?" Step 1: Bath. Step 2: sit on the counter and have your hair dried by mommy with the blow dryer. Step 3: Try to find your "pickles". Oh, did you perhaps mean "nipples?"
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Money." Today she was standing on the bench by the door to the garage. She was doing two very fun things. First, she was turning the light switch on and off and letting me know about each state change as it happened. Second, she was playing with daddy's change. She would pull them out of the container and put them on the desk and then she would put them back in. Also, there was a lot of dropping of coins on the ground. She looked at me, handed me a quarter and said, "money" and smiled. I didn't even know she knew it was money.
Someone Once Said: Half the battle with any culture is knowing its taboos.
I remember I was driving my little silver Honda Accord. I did love that car. I loved it for longer than I've loved any other car since. It took me through high school and college until I could afford to buy myself my own car.
One day I was driving down a road just around the corner from where I live now. It was night and it was dark. I don't know where I was going; it could have been Wal*Mart though. I do like to shop at Wal*Mart. Suddenly, unexpectedly, I saw the lights of a police car behind me.
I looked at the speedometer. No, I wasn't going fast enough to get a speeding ticket. What could it be? The officer came up to my window and asked me if I was drinking. I was drinking. I was drinking a Cherry Squeeze Its. These things were so delicious. You twisted off the plastic cap and then drank this cherry juice that was very much like a melted cherry Popsicle.
I showed him what I was drinking and then I realized he had seen me driving and drinking and thought it was a beer. He said I could go on my way and to drive safely (and don't we all drive safely after narrowly escaping a ticket?)
I haven't seen those Squeeze Its in a long long time. I just looked them up online and am surprised to see there's very little about them available. I did find a picture of them though. Oh, such delicious memories...
The Big Boy Update: "Where are my pickles?" Step 1: Bath. Step 2: sit on the counter and have your hair dried by mommy with the blow dryer. Step 3: Try to find your "pickles". Oh, did you perhaps mean "nipples?"
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Money." Today she was standing on the bench by the door to the garage. She was doing two very fun things. First, she was turning the light switch on and off and letting me know about each state change as it happened. Second, she was playing with daddy's change. She would pull them out of the container and put them on the desk and then she would put them back in. Also, there was a lot of dropping of coins on the ground. She looked at me, handed me a quarter and said, "money" and smiled. I didn't even know she knew it was money.
Someone Once Said: Half the battle with any culture is knowing its taboos.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Toilet Trained
Oh, don't get excited, we're not all toilet trained here in this house. Okay, some of us are; those of us who wear the adult pants in the house have, for the most part, proven that they know when it's time to "go potty." It's the smaller members of the family that still have a ways to go.
There are a lot of different definitions on what it means to be toilet trained, one psychologist said. It basically means different things to different people. Some parents will say their child isn't toilet trained if they have one or two accidents a week, even through the night. Others will declare their child is completely trained, and their definition of trained means only a few mistakes each day.
I can unequivocally say though that neither of my children are toilet trained. One is doing well though. My son can go all day, up until bedtime in one pair of underpants. He can make it through a nap without going in the bed as well. But not always, and not every day. He still has imitative problems and doesn't like to break from his busy schedule of playing with this or stealing that toy from his sister or explaining how he NEEDS whatever it is from the pantry he's decided he wants. And nap times aren't that successful always, but he wakes up in a dry bed more often than a wet bed. We haven't even considered underwear at nighttime at this stage though.
So my son is doing well, but there's definitely more work to be done. My daughter, on the other hand, is wearing underpants all morning at school. Some days she comes home with no wet underpants in the bag, and other days there are five. She can't pull her pants on and off well at all at this age so we don't practice toilet training at the house every day with her. Some days we do and those days can be frustrating (to the adults.)
But why am I writing this potty post? It's because of math—underpants math. We wash the laundry every two to three days. I just got done with a three-day laundry batch and the pile of underpants was large. It was so large that I counted them. There were twenty-four pair of underpants. And that's a lot of underpants.
Two children, three days. If they didn't mess up any underpants we'd still have gone through six pair of underpants. But that leaves eighteen pair of "messy" pants to account for. That's three pair of messy underpants per child, per day. And how often do these kids go to the potty anyway? It's laundry loads like this that make me wonder if we're making any progress at all.
Some of it I understand, like in the morning when we bring my daughter down for breakfast and after eating she doesn't make it to the potty in time and we're on pants number two before we're even off to school. Sometimes we change clothes in the middle of the day because we were playing and dirty, but not every day.
I would guess my son is responsible for one pair of messy pants each day, on average, which means my daughter is messing up four pair a day. I'm thinking at least two pair are at school from the marked underpants I send back every wash load, but still, she needs to pick up the potty training pace here, honestly.
The Big Boy Update: "I love you mommy" I was sitting quietly in the dark in the children's bedroom the other night waiting for my daughter to go to sleep when daddy and my son came in the door. Out of the blue my son told me he loved me, twice. It was very cute.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Toes! She found her brother's toes on the couch this afternoon. She would come over, touch his toes, look at me and say, "Toes!" I confirmed that yes, those were toes. She would sweep by every few minutes to tell me about the toes for a good while.
Someone Once Said: Pffile, dear. I don’t have morals, just customs. I don’t wait for a man to make a pass; they fumble around and waste time.
There are a lot of different definitions on what it means to be toilet trained, one psychologist said. It basically means different things to different people. Some parents will say their child isn't toilet trained if they have one or two accidents a week, even through the night. Others will declare their child is completely trained, and their definition of trained means only a few mistakes each day.
I can unequivocally say though that neither of my children are toilet trained. One is doing well though. My son can go all day, up until bedtime in one pair of underpants. He can make it through a nap without going in the bed as well. But not always, and not every day. He still has imitative problems and doesn't like to break from his busy schedule of playing with this or stealing that toy from his sister or explaining how he NEEDS whatever it is from the pantry he's decided he wants. And nap times aren't that successful always, but he wakes up in a dry bed more often than a wet bed. We haven't even considered underwear at nighttime at this stage though.
So my son is doing well, but there's definitely more work to be done. My daughter, on the other hand, is wearing underpants all morning at school. Some days she comes home with no wet underpants in the bag, and other days there are five. She can't pull her pants on and off well at all at this age so we don't practice toilet training at the house every day with her. Some days we do and those days can be frustrating (to the adults.)
But why am I writing this potty post? It's because of math—underpants math. We wash the laundry every two to three days. I just got done with a three-day laundry batch and the pile of underpants was large. It was so large that I counted them. There were twenty-four pair of underpants. And that's a lot of underpants.
Two children, three days. If they didn't mess up any underpants we'd still have gone through six pair of underpants. But that leaves eighteen pair of "messy" pants to account for. That's three pair of messy underpants per child, per day. And how often do these kids go to the potty anyway? It's laundry loads like this that make me wonder if we're making any progress at all.
Some of it I understand, like in the morning when we bring my daughter down for breakfast and after eating she doesn't make it to the potty in time and we're on pants number two before we're even off to school. Sometimes we change clothes in the middle of the day because we were playing and dirty, but not every day.
I would guess my son is responsible for one pair of messy pants each day, on average, which means my daughter is messing up four pair a day. I'm thinking at least two pair are at school from the marked underpants I send back every wash load, but still, she needs to pick up the potty training pace here, honestly.
The Big Boy Update: "I love you mommy" I was sitting quietly in the dark in the children's bedroom the other night waiting for my daughter to go to sleep when daddy and my son came in the door. Out of the blue my son told me he loved me, twice. It was very cute.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Toes! She found her brother's toes on the couch this afternoon. She would come over, touch his toes, look at me and say, "Toes!" I confirmed that yes, those were toes. She would sweep by every few minutes to tell me about the toes for a good while.
Someone Once Said: Pffile, dear. I don’t have morals, just customs. I don’t wait for a man to make a pass; they fumble around and waste time.
Friday, May 17, 2013
Around The Block
I'm nearly out of time for today and I need to get on to other things before I get to get in bed and go to sleep. I love getting into bed and preparing for sleep, doing things on the iPad, falling asleep and knowing the day is over, children are in bed and movies are being played in the basement. It's a great ending to the week.
Before our Movie Night friends arrive tonight we decided to go around the block. That doesn't sound like a difficult thing, but when you add in two toddlers who want to stop at every leaf, rock or excavator (not to mention "crames" and "mint mixers") and a dog who needs to visit every bush, leaf or tree, and it's a slow procession.
Sometimes it even goes in reverse. Then there's the nice spring weather and all the neighbors out that we stop and speak with. But we weren't out for a power walk. It was fun, my son almost made it all the way around the block pushing himself forward on his plastic motorcycle. His sister "walked" the dog by holding her leash and just before we got home fell asleep.
In short, it was nice and a good way to cap off the day after dinner for the children.
The Big Boy Update: The best little hooker. Give him a string and it's a "hook" he will manage to connect it to one thing and then another thing and he'll treat it as though he's playing tow truck or fishing pole with it for hours. Hours, seriously. And he'll hook anything. He wanted to hook my eye yesterday. Tonight, he hooked one piece of plastic (a race car) to another piece of plastic (the tow truck) and backed that race car down the side of the bed to safety. He was so engaged he said, "I don't want any dinner."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: On top. This is something her brother says all the time. He is obsessed with the position of things as they relate to each other. On the bottom and on the top are two of the most popular things he likes says. Today she's picked up the positional baton as she put her juice cup, "on top" of the counter.
Fitness Update: To the gym for a Friday workout. The cough that wont go away is still not going away. I don't think it's affecting my workout other than being an annoyance. Of course, it's an annoyance all day long.
Someone Once Said: If you can learn not to jump when the firecracker goes off - or whatever the surprise is - you stand a good chance of being able to hang tight until the emergency is over.
Before our Movie Night friends arrive tonight we decided to go around the block. That doesn't sound like a difficult thing, but when you add in two toddlers who want to stop at every leaf, rock or excavator (not to mention "crames" and "mint mixers") and a dog who needs to visit every bush, leaf or tree, and it's a slow procession.
Sometimes it even goes in reverse. Then there's the nice spring weather and all the neighbors out that we stop and speak with. But we weren't out for a power walk. It was fun, my son almost made it all the way around the block pushing himself forward on his plastic motorcycle. His sister "walked" the dog by holding her leash and just before we got home fell asleep.
In short, it was nice and a good way to cap off the day after dinner for the children.
The Big Boy Update: The best little hooker. Give him a string and it's a "hook" he will manage to connect it to one thing and then another thing and he'll treat it as though he's playing tow truck or fishing pole with it for hours. Hours, seriously. And he'll hook anything. He wanted to hook my eye yesterday. Tonight, he hooked one piece of plastic (a race car) to another piece of plastic (the tow truck) and backed that race car down the side of the bed to safety. He was so engaged he said, "I don't want any dinner."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: On top. This is something her brother says all the time. He is obsessed with the position of things as they relate to each other. On the bottom and on the top are two of the most popular things he likes says. Today she's picked up the positional baton as she put her juice cup, "on top" of the counter.
Fitness Update: To the gym for a Friday workout. The cough that wont go away is still not going away. I don't think it's affecting my workout other than being an annoyance. Of course, it's an annoyance all day long.
Someone Once Said: If you can learn not to jump when the firecracker goes off - or whatever the surprise is - you stand a good chance of being able to hang tight until the emergency is over.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Sleeping on the Floorboards
When I was young I would ride in the back seat of my parent's car when we would go on trips. They had several cars during the time I was a small child, but the one I remember the most was a blue Mercedes with blue leather interior.
On long trips I would move all around in the back seat, playing with stuffed animals or whatever I did to keep from being bored. There was a lot of counting cows, which is interesting because I don't remember there being that many cows to count.
I have distinct memories of trying to play hide-and-go-seek, with myself or possibly my parents, while I was in the back of the car. I'm not sure how good I was at the game, I couldn't have been that good because not once did I ever find a hiding spot outside the car as we drove down the highway. Perhaps that's why I'm still here today.
I do remember that I could just squeeze my body in the foot well behind the front seats. I would ball my body all up and rest my head on the raised center area that had the drive shaft below it. I remember the sound of the car humming much more loudly as you got lower down on the floor. It was warmer too.
I don't know how old I must have been, but I know that car wasn't too big. I can see my children now and imagine them fitting in the same space. In a few years I think they'll have sized out of the space. Which made me realize, I have no recollection of ever being in a car seat. The regulations when I was young were quite different than they are now. At this point, you're practically going to Driver's Ed. by the time you're legally allowed to sit in the car without a child car seat.
Come to think of it, did that old car even have seat belts in the back seat?
The Big Boy Update: "I put out gas." He farted. He looked over to me and said, "I put out gas" and then went back to playing with his toys. I tried to not laugh as I went to go tell daddy.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "poop poop POOP!" She is getting more awareness of when she's about to go, or is going to the bathroom. Sometimes she looks at you and says, in what sounds like a desperate voice, the word, "poop" several times. We whisk her away to the potty straight away. Usually, it's not poop, but it usually involves the changing of some wet underpants. On the awareness front, she's making progress though.
Someone Once Said: He saw that he had committed the prime sin against survival: He had indulged in wishful thinking.
On long trips I would move all around in the back seat, playing with stuffed animals or whatever I did to keep from being bored. There was a lot of counting cows, which is interesting because I don't remember there being that many cows to count.
I have distinct memories of trying to play hide-and-go-seek, with myself or possibly my parents, while I was in the back of the car. I'm not sure how good I was at the game, I couldn't have been that good because not once did I ever find a hiding spot outside the car as we drove down the highway. Perhaps that's why I'm still here today.
I do remember that I could just squeeze my body in the foot well behind the front seats. I would ball my body all up and rest my head on the raised center area that had the drive shaft below it. I remember the sound of the car humming much more loudly as you got lower down on the floor. It was warmer too.
I don't know how old I must have been, but I know that car wasn't too big. I can see my children now and imagine them fitting in the same space. In a few years I think they'll have sized out of the space. Which made me realize, I have no recollection of ever being in a car seat. The regulations when I was young were quite different than they are now. At this point, you're practically going to Driver's Ed. by the time you're legally allowed to sit in the car without a child car seat.
Come to think of it, did that old car even have seat belts in the back seat?
The Big Boy Update: "I put out gas." He farted. He looked over to me and said, "I put out gas" and then went back to playing with his toys. I tried to not laugh as I went to go tell daddy.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "poop poop POOP!" She is getting more awareness of when she's about to go, or is going to the bathroom. Sometimes she looks at you and says, in what sounds like a desperate voice, the word, "poop" several times. We whisk her away to the potty straight away. Usually, it's not poop, but it usually involves the changing of some wet underpants. On the awareness front, she's making progress though.
Someone Once Said: He saw that he had committed the prime sin against survival: He had indulged in wishful thinking.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Not So Sure About This
I've been at meetings most of the day. The building project for our school is moving along as best as it can, given that we're not completely sure we'll be moving forward. That's not to say anything is going wrong, it's just like having a signed contract to purchase a home, but you have to wait to make sure the house is structurally sound and then there''s the termite inspection to contend with. It's like knowing you'll get approved for that loan, but the loan is still weeks away from being complete. Basically, it's a lot like waiting for the day you close and get the keys to your new home, only more involved and fraught with legal hurdles that apply to building a new school in a residential neighborhood with a capital campaign that's not yet begun. So it's complicated.
Related to this whole school situation, I've been asked to be on many committees. Lately, I was asked to be one of three co-chairs on the Capital Campaign committee. I'm a fundraising neophyte, to say the least. But I was glad to serve and do as much work as I can through the guidance of more experienced fundraisers. Then some things changed.
The person who I felt the most comfortable "following" in the position of co-chair decided her family couldn't sustain the load of work it would entail. As her husband is the chairman of our board and she is doing significant pro-Bono legal work for the school as we pursue our new location, her family is heavily time-committed already and I respect her decision to decline the offer of co-chair.
The second co-chair has been re-tasked to work just as hard on the committee, but in a different capacity. So they have now asked me if I would be the CHAIR. I put that in capital letters because it's how I feel it sounds and it's how scared I am of the prospects of failure at the position. We will need to raise (hopefully) $500,000 and I will be at the top of the organizational chart if we fail.
Of course, I'll be at the top if we exceed our goals as well, but fear is a stronger motivator than the prestige of success. I don't feel I crave the power of the position. Do I want the campaign to be a success? Hell yes, I do! I just don't feel qualified, or experienced, and I don't feel I have the longevity at the school some of the other parents do. But here I am, not saying no.
The two consultants we have working with the school--who are the ones that decided I would be the best person for the position--will be there through the whole process. I won't be alone. The committee will be large, and so will the work.
But I fear something may have to give. I'm on too many committees, chairing two. I'm going to be thinking long and hard over the next few days about what might need to give if I can't devote enough time to each of the responsibilities I've stepped up to. I don't want to do many things to mediocrity. I would like to do a few things well.
The Big Boy Update: "I wearing Daddy's clip clops." Yes, he was. He got daddy's flip flops from the closet and made it all the way across the house in a very funny walk. He was so happy. Speaking of happy, he had to have blood drawn at the doctor's today. We told him it would be over soon and he would feel better. He said, "I want to be happy" as he cried. I was so proud of him. They had to stick both arms and it was uncomfortable because they had to wiggle the needle to get a good flow of blood. He did so well.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: So cranky. Eighteen month checkup today and she had four immunizations. She is uncomfortable and very whiny. We administered Advil. On the skills front, she is a whiz at putting together and taking apart Duplo Legos.
Someone Once Said: The notion that “truth will prevail” is merely a pious wish; history doesn’t show it.
Related to this whole school situation, I've been asked to be on many committees. Lately, I was asked to be one of three co-chairs on the Capital Campaign committee. I'm a fundraising neophyte, to say the least. But I was glad to serve and do as much work as I can through the guidance of more experienced fundraisers. Then some things changed.
The person who I felt the most comfortable "following" in the position of co-chair decided her family couldn't sustain the load of work it would entail. As her husband is the chairman of our board and she is doing significant pro-Bono legal work for the school as we pursue our new location, her family is heavily time-committed already and I respect her decision to decline the offer of co-chair.
The second co-chair has been re-tasked to work just as hard on the committee, but in a different capacity. So they have now asked me if I would be the CHAIR. I put that in capital letters because it's how I feel it sounds and it's how scared I am of the prospects of failure at the position. We will need to raise (hopefully) $500,000 and I will be at the top of the organizational chart if we fail.
Of course, I'll be at the top if we exceed our goals as well, but fear is a stronger motivator than the prestige of success. I don't feel I crave the power of the position. Do I want the campaign to be a success? Hell yes, I do! I just don't feel qualified, or experienced, and I don't feel I have the longevity at the school some of the other parents do. But here I am, not saying no.
The two consultants we have working with the school--who are the ones that decided I would be the best person for the position--will be there through the whole process. I won't be alone. The committee will be large, and so will the work.
But I fear something may have to give. I'm on too many committees, chairing two. I'm going to be thinking long and hard over the next few days about what might need to give if I can't devote enough time to each of the responsibilities I've stepped up to. I don't want to do many things to mediocrity. I would like to do a few things well.
The Big Boy Update: "I wearing Daddy's clip clops." Yes, he was. He got daddy's flip flops from the closet and made it all the way across the house in a very funny walk. He was so happy. Speaking of happy, he had to have blood drawn at the doctor's today. We told him it would be over soon and he would feel better. He said, "I want to be happy" as he cried. I was so proud of him. They had to stick both arms and it was uncomfortable because they had to wiggle the needle to get a good flow of blood. He did so well.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: So cranky. Eighteen month checkup today and she had four immunizations. She is uncomfortable and very whiny. We administered Advil. On the skills front, she is a whiz at putting together and taking apart Duplo Legos.
Someone Once Said: The notion that “truth will prevail” is merely a pious wish; history doesn’t show it.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Suddenly Sick
I've had a cough. It was a dry, hacking cough for several weeks and but now it's more of a fruitful, chesty cough. It's been the worst year I can remember for overall sickness. From everything I hear, it's children and school and it happens for all families at this time in their lives. So I'm living with it.
Yesterday, I started to feel overly achy after my workout. I didn't think it was that hard of a workout. Maybe those extra hundred pushups and the four miles of running had something to do with it but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary so I didn't worry too much about it. Then, we went to dinner.
And suddenly, I started to feel very bad. I started to get the aches all over like either you've been hit with a Mack truck or your sick or you've exercised way too long, only some of the places I was aching were internal and were much more along the lines of fever aches than muscle aches.
It was growing worse at a dramatically fast pace. I told daddy when we got home I was putting one child in bed and then climbing in bed myself. When I got home, I checked and had a fever of 100.1, and I wasn't surprised about that given how I felt. A half hour later, after getting tiny to bed, I had a fever of 101.0, and I felt like crap on a cracker that's been soaking in luke warm water. I was asleep before 8:00PM.
My husband suggested I take some Nyquil for the symptoms, which helped some. I took a second dose at 4:30AM but the fever had subsided by then. Today, the fever is gone, but I'm tired and confused as to what the whole thing was about. Am I getting over it? Is this just a lull? I suppose I'll find out.
The Big Boy Update: "Help, I stuck." He was calling out for help and daddy couldn't find him. Finally he realized he had climbed over the back of the big sofa chair in the corner of the bedroom and was wedged behind it in the triangular void of at the corner. The chair was taller than he was. I suspect he's found a future hide-and-go seek location.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Where's Reese?" She will, unexpectedly, play peekaboo with you. The words, "where's Reese" aren't that clear when she has her hands over her face hiding her eyes so you might not get what's happening until you see her grinning as she pulls her hands away from her face in her car seat and proudly exclaims, "Here's Reese!" Peekaboo is another word she says, sort of. That's a hard one to say but she tries.
Someone Once Said: Seems to be a deep instinct in human beings for making everything compulsory that isn’t forbidden
Yesterday, I started to feel overly achy after my workout. I didn't think it was that hard of a workout. Maybe those extra hundred pushups and the four miles of running had something to do with it but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary so I didn't worry too much about it. Then, we went to dinner.
And suddenly, I started to feel very bad. I started to get the aches all over like either you've been hit with a Mack truck or your sick or you've exercised way too long, only some of the places I was aching were internal and were much more along the lines of fever aches than muscle aches.
It was growing worse at a dramatically fast pace. I told daddy when we got home I was putting one child in bed and then climbing in bed myself. When I got home, I checked and had a fever of 100.1, and I wasn't surprised about that given how I felt. A half hour later, after getting tiny to bed, I had a fever of 101.0, and I felt like crap on a cracker that's been soaking in luke warm water. I was asleep before 8:00PM.
My husband suggested I take some Nyquil for the symptoms, which helped some. I took a second dose at 4:30AM but the fever had subsided by then. Today, the fever is gone, but I'm tired and confused as to what the whole thing was about. Am I getting over it? Is this just a lull? I suppose I'll find out.
The Big Boy Update: "Help, I stuck." He was calling out for help and daddy couldn't find him. Finally he realized he had climbed over the back of the big sofa chair in the corner of the bedroom and was wedged behind it in the triangular void of at the corner. The chair was taller than he was. I suspect he's found a future hide-and-go seek location.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Where's Reese?" She will, unexpectedly, play peekaboo with you. The words, "where's Reese" aren't that clear when she has her hands over her face hiding her eyes so you might not get what's happening until you see her grinning as she pulls her hands away from her face in her car seat and proudly exclaims, "Here's Reese!" Peekaboo is another word she says, sort of. That's a hard one to say but she tries.
Someone Once Said: Seems to be a deep instinct in human beings for making everything compulsory that isn’t forbidden
Monday, May 13, 2013
The Unexpected Board Meeting Event
This post is not for you gentlemen. Guys, just move along because this is all about a lady thing. Trust me, you don't want to know.
Are they gone? Okay, I have to get this off my chest because it was one of those nightmare situations you are afraid is going to happen, and last week, it happened to me. It was our board meeting and we had lots of work to accomplish. As I'm relatively new to the board, I put on something nicer than my shorts and sneakers I'm so known for wearing. I had my new white jeans on and a stylish top and I was ready to be the best new board member I could be as I headed off to that meeting, armed with my Starbucks Venti Non-fat Single Chai Latte 185 Degrees.
The meeting was going well. It's a very friendly group that has more desire to get the work done and do a good job than they do in complaining, pointing fingers and being negative about things. Aside from a nagging cough I'd had for a while, I was having a good time, which is saying a lot because board meetings aren't generally reputed to be "fun." That's when it happened.
I did a large round of coughing and I felt something unexpected in my pants. Something other ladies will be familiar with. Something that wasn't expected at all during that section of the month. Oh no. Oh dear. Well, it's probably nothing. Fortunately I'm in the back of the room near the restroom.
It wasn't nothing. It was something and it was all over the place something. Guys, seriously, you're not still reading this are you? I so warned you it was a lady thing. So I took off my pants and underpants. I had no purse on me, nothing to store very soiled underpants in other than a pocket in my very white jeans, so I threw them away in the trash can, hidden under lots of paper towels. I hope no small child found it the next day but that's the option I had at that point.
I did some uncomfortable damage control with paper towels, because I had no other feminine protection devices on hand. And then there were the jeans. There was a quarter-sized spot right in the back. Not in the crotch, because I'd been, apparently, slouching.
So I washed my jeans in the sink. I don't know if it was the most prudent move, but I was hoping the wet white color wouldn't be as obvious as wet blue jeans would be. And they weren't as obvious, but it was obvious. Oh hell, how am I going to get back to my seat? Also, wet jeans smell not unlike wet dog. How nice. The only thing I could come up with was a small throw rug that was on a stack of boxes in the bathroom.
What did I do? I waltzed back out, holding the rug in front of me and sat back down with it on my lap. The head of school gave me a strange look, but I said nothing. Then, some time later when there was a break and the three gentlemen in the room weren't paying attention, I did what any lady would do: I enlisted the help of other ladies, because we've all been there.
I asked Charlotte and Dominique (the head of school) to lean in and I gave them a very quick summary. Charlotte, very kindly said she was feeling hot and wouldn't need her shawl and that I looked cold and would I like to use it as I walked out shortly? They were so kind and they protected me as I walked, shawl-wrapped to my car.
It was awful. It was funny. It was unexpected. But I think, it wasn't known by everyone, mostly the men, which is a relief.
The Big Boy Update: He wasn't even in the room. The other night after both children were in bed there was a commotion on the monitor. This isn't uncommon. What happens is one parent goes up, with a smart phone, and sits in the chair reading email or doing whatever it is they want to do on their phone, until the children settle down. I was there for fifteen minutes and when I got up to leave, the light that came in from opening the door showed that my son wasn't even there. He wasn't in the room at all. He had gotten his pillow, blankets, stuffed animals and pacifier and taken them all to the playroom. He'd made himself a bed on the floor and shut the door. And when I checked, he was happily asleep right in the middle of the little play room.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Bath? Bath? She likes taking a bath. Sometimes, I'll be in the bath because I've been running or exercising and she'll come in and want to get into the bath with me. Yesterday morning she was adamant that it was her turn to have a bath. She tried to take off her clothes (unsuccessfully) and then got toys to put in the tub with me. She was confused I think that I hadn't selected a color to have for my bath (they love these little food color tablets that make the bath fun and outrageous shades.) She was glad when it was her turn for a bath last night.
Fitness Update: My neck is sore. This is not uncommon. I have spine issues most days, but some days are worse than others. It was cramped so badly this morning I wasn't sure I was going to make it through the gym workout. And remember those hundred pushups I did yesterday? Don had us do 126 burpees (in which you get in and out of the pushup position after every pushup and do a jump) in less than an hour. Among other tortures. But fun. It was fun. I hope it was fun. At any rate, I made it to the Chiropractor after drop off so hopefully I'll be in less pain this afternoon.
Someone Once Said: There are three schools of magic. One: State a tautology, then ring the changes on its corollaries; that’s philosophy. Two: Record many facts. Try to see a pattern. Then make a wrong guess at the next fact. That’s Science. Three: Awareness that you live in a malevolent universe controlled by Murphy’s Law, sometimes offset in part by Brewster’s Factor; that’s engineering.
Are they gone? Okay, I have to get this off my chest because it was one of those nightmare situations you are afraid is going to happen, and last week, it happened to me. It was our board meeting and we had lots of work to accomplish. As I'm relatively new to the board, I put on something nicer than my shorts and sneakers I'm so known for wearing. I had my new white jeans on and a stylish top and I was ready to be the best new board member I could be as I headed off to that meeting, armed with my Starbucks Venti Non-fat Single Chai Latte 185 Degrees.
The meeting was going well. It's a very friendly group that has more desire to get the work done and do a good job than they do in complaining, pointing fingers and being negative about things. Aside from a nagging cough I'd had for a while, I was having a good time, which is saying a lot because board meetings aren't generally reputed to be "fun." That's when it happened.
I did a large round of coughing and I felt something unexpected in my pants. Something other ladies will be familiar with. Something that wasn't expected at all during that section of the month. Oh no. Oh dear. Well, it's probably nothing. Fortunately I'm in the back of the room near the restroom.
It wasn't nothing. It was something and it was all over the place something. Guys, seriously, you're not still reading this are you? I so warned you it was a lady thing. So I took off my pants and underpants. I had no purse on me, nothing to store very soiled underpants in other than a pocket in my very white jeans, so I threw them away in the trash can, hidden under lots of paper towels. I hope no small child found it the next day but that's the option I had at that point.
I did some uncomfortable damage control with paper towels, because I had no other feminine protection devices on hand. And then there were the jeans. There was a quarter-sized spot right in the back. Not in the crotch, because I'd been, apparently, slouching.
So I washed my jeans in the sink. I don't know if it was the most prudent move, but I was hoping the wet white color wouldn't be as obvious as wet blue jeans would be. And they weren't as obvious, but it was obvious. Oh hell, how am I going to get back to my seat? Also, wet jeans smell not unlike wet dog. How nice. The only thing I could come up with was a small throw rug that was on a stack of boxes in the bathroom.
What did I do? I waltzed back out, holding the rug in front of me and sat back down with it on my lap. The head of school gave me a strange look, but I said nothing. Then, some time later when there was a break and the three gentlemen in the room weren't paying attention, I did what any lady would do: I enlisted the help of other ladies, because we've all been there.
I asked Charlotte and Dominique (the head of school) to lean in and I gave them a very quick summary. Charlotte, very kindly said she was feeling hot and wouldn't need her shawl and that I looked cold and would I like to use it as I walked out shortly? They were so kind and they protected me as I walked, shawl-wrapped to my car.
It was awful. It was funny. It was unexpected. But I think, it wasn't known by everyone, mostly the men, which is a relief.
The Big Boy Update: He wasn't even in the room. The other night after both children were in bed there was a commotion on the monitor. This isn't uncommon. What happens is one parent goes up, with a smart phone, and sits in the chair reading email or doing whatever it is they want to do on their phone, until the children settle down. I was there for fifteen minutes and when I got up to leave, the light that came in from opening the door showed that my son wasn't even there. He wasn't in the room at all. He had gotten his pillow, blankets, stuffed animals and pacifier and taken them all to the playroom. He'd made himself a bed on the floor and shut the door. And when I checked, he was happily asleep right in the middle of the little play room.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Bath? Bath? She likes taking a bath. Sometimes, I'll be in the bath because I've been running or exercising and she'll come in and want to get into the bath with me. Yesterday morning she was adamant that it was her turn to have a bath. She tried to take off her clothes (unsuccessfully) and then got toys to put in the tub with me. She was confused I think that I hadn't selected a color to have for my bath (they love these little food color tablets that make the bath fun and outrageous shades.) She was glad when it was her turn for a bath last night.
Fitness Update: My neck is sore. This is not uncommon. I have spine issues most days, but some days are worse than others. It was cramped so badly this morning I wasn't sure I was going to make it through the gym workout. And remember those hundred pushups I did yesterday? Don had us do 126 burpees (in which you get in and out of the pushup position after every pushup and do a jump) in less than an hour. Among other tortures. But fun. It was fun. I hope it was fun. At any rate, I made it to the Chiropractor after drop off so hopefully I'll be in less pain this afternoon.
Someone Once Said: There are three schools of magic. One: State a tautology, then ring the changes on its corollaries; that’s philosophy. Two: Record many facts. Try to see a pattern. Then make a wrong guess at the next fact. That’s Science. Three: Awareness that you live in a malevolent universe controlled by Murphy’s Law, sometimes offset in part by Brewster’s Factor; that’s engineering.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Children Make People Smile
I have seen this happen too many times to not know it's coming now. Children make people smile. They're little and they're innocent and they're muddling their way through something mundane or maybe they're giggling with joy at something silly, whatever it is, little kids being little kids is endearing and people like to watch it in action.
For instance, of late when we go places I try to walk my daughter from the car to the location. Sure, I could carry her; it would be more exercise for me and it would take about a fourth the time. But she is learning and having her participate in the process and be aware of traffic and understand she needs to hold my hand are important things for a child to learn.
So here we are, she's walking in and looking all around. I'm taking truncated adult steps as I walk beside her and I'm probably talking to her about where we're going or something interesting to see like the dog in the pickup truck to the left. And that's when we meet the smiling people.
They're of all ages. Some are quite old and moving at about our same pace. Some are parents and some are just friendly people who think this whole half-paced procession is charming. Some people talk directly to me. They might say how cute she is or how they remembered when their children were that age. Some people will engage my daughter directly saying something to her in a friendly.
The conversations are always brief because we're usually headed in different directions, but it's always a nice exchange. I think I'll miss it when my children are too old to be that kind of cute. I suspect I'll be one of those people who talks to random children as their parents walk them to their destination at that very special toddler half-pace.
The Big Boy Update: "Happy. I'm a happy boy." This is a cute thing for him to say, and the first time he explained to us that he was happy, I thought it was just words he knew. But no, if he's feeling happy, he will tell you so. Today not only did he say he was happy, he declared that he was a happy boy.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: The terrible twos are coming. I can sense it. Actually, my ears can hear it. She knows enough now to realize she's being told no about something but that the adult that told her no, could have said yes if they'd wanted to. In short, she realizes she's being denied. And she can get pretty angry and loud about it.
Fitness Update: 4.5 miles for a short Mother's Day run before daddy had to go to work. Also, decided to do one hundred pushups for fun as well. Wait, did I say, "for fun?" I must be coming down with something.
Someone Once Said: A present should show that you considered that person’s tastes. Something he would enjoy but probably would not buy.
For instance, of late when we go places I try to walk my daughter from the car to the location. Sure, I could carry her; it would be more exercise for me and it would take about a fourth the time. But she is learning and having her participate in the process and be aware of traffic and understand she needs to hold my hand are important things for a child to learn.
So here we are, she's walking in and looking all around. I'm taking truncated adult steps as I walk beside her and I'm probably talking to her about where we're going or something interesting to see like the dog in the pickup truck to the left. And that's when we meet the smiling people.
They're of all ages. Some are quite old and moving at about our same pace. Some are parents and some are just friendly people who think this whole half-paced procession is charming. Some people talk directly to me. They might say how cute she is or how they remembered when their children were that age. Some people will engage my daughter directly saying something to her in a friendly.
The conversations are always brief because we're usually headed in different directions, but it's always a nice exchange. I think I'll miss it when my children are too old to be that kind of cute. I suspect I'll be one of those people who talks to random children as their parents walk them to their destination at that very special toddler half-pace.
The Big Boy Update: "Happy. I'm a happy boy." This is a cute thing for him to say, and the first time he explained to us that he was happy, I thought it was just words he knew. But no, if he's feeling happy, he will tell you so. Today not only did he say he was happy, he declared that he was a happy boy.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: The terrible twos are coming. I can sense it. Actually, my ears can hear it. She knows enough now to realize she's being told no about something but that the adult that told her no, could have said yes if they'd wanted to. In short, she realizes she's being denied. And she can get pretty angry and loud about it.
Fitness Update: 4.5 miles for a short Mother's Day run before daddy had to go to work. Also, decided to do one hundred pushups for fun as well. Wait, did I say, "for fun?" I must be coming down with something.
Someone Once Said: A present should show that you considered that person’s tastes. Something he would enjoy but probably would not buy.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Nap Strategery
Some days my son doesn't take a nap, most days he does. My daughter, so far, hasn't missed a nap yet, although sometimes this involves a short nap in the car until we arrive at our destination. But however it works out, we try to make sure naps happen so that we don't have angry, hungry, tired, annoyed children when we need to have happy, full, rested toddlers for an event or activity.
Today is one of those days we worked planned for tired with great intention. We have an all-school event from two to four and a birthday party from four to six. This means any afternoon nap is not happening, and we would very much like them to enjoy the two events, instead of being cranky and irritable. So, we decided to action-pack the morning.
We got them packed into the car with sand toys and a healthy snack in a bag and took them to the park down the street. We dumped the sand toys in the large sand area and then let them run around for a long time, hoping this would wear them out. We gave them fruit and juice and fig newtons and then let them run around some more. We thought naps might follow, but we needed to confirm there was no way they would stay awake. So we went to ChickenFries.
ChickenFries is McDonald's. Well, it's what my son thinks McDonald's is named. We went to the one with the largest indoor playground and we fed our already full children some fries and chicken and let them run around more. The good news is, they were too tired to play much more. We got them back in the car and presto, two asleep children right at Noon as we approached our house.
They're still asleep now, which is good because we're about to head over to the school. Hopefully it will be a fun afternoon for everyone. I hope our strategy worked.
The Big Boy Update: "Sorry Reese. Sorry Reese. Sorry Reese" He hurt her. I don't know what he did, but he upset her and he felt contrite. He apologized multiple times in a row to her--and she stopped crying.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Hi Reese. Hi Reese." She was looking at my phone yesterday, specifically the pictures. She has seen herself in the pictures a lot so she expected to see herself in all of them. Regardless if she was in the picture or not, she would say, "Hi Reese" to each picture. Also, I didn't realize she knew how to swipe to see the next picture until I watched her.
Fitness Update: Running again. Eight miles with my neighbor around the main loop. We ran slowly, and I took Advil, but my shin splints didn't bother me, so hopefully they're mostly healed.
Someone Once Said: I'm running late. (Okay, that was me that said that. It's true though, gotta run.)
Today is one of those days we worked planned for tired with great intention. We have an all-school event from two to four and a birthday party from four to six. This means any afternoon nap is not happening, and we would very much like them to enjoy the two events, instead of being cranky and irritable. So, we decided to action-pack the morning.
We got them packed into the car with sand toys and a healthy snack in a bag and took them to the park down the street. We dumped the sand toys in the large sand area and then let them run around for a long time, hoping this would wear them out. We gave them fruit and juice and fig newtons and then let them run around some more. We thought naps might follow, but we needed to confirm there was no way they would stay awake. So we went to ChickenFries.
ChickenFries is McDonald's. Well, it's what my son thinks McDonald's is named. We went to the one with the largest indoor playground and we fed our already full children some fries and chicken and let them run around more. The good news is, they were too tired to play much more. We got them back in the car and presto, two asleep children right at Noon as we approached our house.
They're still asleep now, which is good because we're about to head over to the school. Hopefully it will be a fun afternoon for everyone. I hope our strategy worked.
The Big Boy Update: "Sorry Reese. Sorry Reese. Sorry Reese" He hurt her. I don't know what he did, but he upset her and he felt contrite. He apologized multiple times in a row to her--and she stopped crying.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Hi Reese. Hi Reese." She was looking at my phone yesterday, specifically the pictures. She has seen herself in the pictures a lot so she expected to see herself in all of them. Regardless if she was in the picture or not, she would say, "Hi Reese" to each picture. Also, I didn't realize she knew how to swipe to see the next picture until I watched her.
Fitness Update: Running again. Eight miles with my neighbor around the main loop. We ran slowly, and I took Advil, but my shin splints didn't bother me, so hopefully they're mostly healed.
Someone Once Said: I'm running late. (Okay, that was me that said that. It's true though, gotta run.)
Friday, May 10, 2013
All Caught Up
Historically you would watch a television show and then you would wait another week until the next episode or installment came out. If you forgot SuperExcitingShowX was on on Wednesday, you were just out of luck (unless you knew how to program your VCR). If you heard FantasticShowY was something you just had to start watching because everyone wouldn't shut up about it, you would need to have a friend catch you up on the story so far, because no one had full seasons at their disposal.
In the past few years that's changed dramatically though. There are DVR's which make it so easy to store weeks of a show, including reruns for you to watch at your leisure. And what about that new show you should really catch up on? Easy as three slices of pie. Just go to one of the handy streaming companies and stream the last four seasons back to back until you're bought in to the current plot line, no matter how far-fetched.
We live in a time of media convenience. It can be very nice. I am known for getting behind on anything television related. It could be my favorite show, but I might let it pile up for six weeks and then be in the mood to watch it. That just happened to me last week. I finally decided to watch all the queued episodes I'd been putting off, saving up, looking forward to, only I wasn't in the mood right now. And now there's a void because I have to wait--yes, you heard me correctly--I have to wait for the next episode to be released.
But I was just getting into the show. I remembered how great all the characters were and they did this new, interesting plot twist that I am keen to see the outcome of. But I have to wait.
It's much easier to wait when you don't have to. It's harder to wait when you don't have a choice.
The Big Boy Update: "No, I have my own hands." This morning, Papa offered to help my son down the stairs by saying, "Would you like my hand?" to which my son told him he had his own hands, thank you very much.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Two bows. Her hair continues to need some sort of up-top maintenance to keep it away from her eyes. She came home with two little top knot bows that worked very well. I'm so going to have to figure out how to do little girl's hair soon.
Fitness Update: With Nana and Papa at the house this morning, daddy and I got a rare treat: we went to the gym together. Normally, one would stay back to manage two sleeping (or usually not sleeping) children until it's their turn to go exercise. It was a nice change. I discovered my husband isn't as chatty as my girlfriend is.
Someone Once Said: Bravery is going on anyhow when you are so terrified you’re sphincters won’t hold and you can’t breathe and your heart threatens to stop.
In the past few years that's changed dramatically though. There are DVR's which make it so easy to store weeks of a show, including reruns for you to watch at your leisure. And what about that new show you should really catch up on? Easy as three slices of pie. Just go to one of the handy streaming companies and stream the last four seasons back to back until you're bought in to the current plot line, no matter how far-fetched.
We live in a time of media convenience. It can be very nice. I am known for getting behind on anything television related. It could be my favorite show, but I might let it pile up for six weeks and then be in the mood to watch it. That just happened to me last week. I finally decided to watch all the queued episodes I'd been putting off, saving up, looking forward to, only I wasn't in the mood right now. And now there's a void because I have to wait--yes, you heard me correctly--I have to wait for the next episode to be released.
But I was just getting into the show. I remembered how great all the characters were and they did this new, interesting plot twist that I am keen to see the outcome of. But I have to wait.
It's much easier to wait when you don't have to. It's harder to wait when you don't have a choice.
The Big Boy Update: "No, I have my own hands." This morning, Papa offered to help my son down the stairs by saying, "Would you like my hand?" to which my son told him he had his own hands, thank you very much.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Two bows. Her hair continues to need some sort of up-top maintenance to keep it away from her eyes. She came home with two little top knot bows that worked very well. I'm so going to have to figure out how to do little girl's hair soon.
Fitness Update: With Nana and Papa at the house this morning, daddy and I got a rare treat: we went to the gym together. Normally, one would stay back to manage two sleeping (or usually not sleeping) children until it's their turn to go exercise. It was a nice change. I discovered my husband isn't as chatty as my girlfriend is.
Someone Once Said: Bravery is going on anyhow when you are so terrified you’re sphincters won’t hold and you can’t breathe and your heart threatens to stop.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
The Security Light Reminiscence
We use our cell phones as flash lights in dark situations these days. It wasn't always so easy to find your way when the lights were out thought. For that matter, there weren't always lights when it was dark, but as I'm a child of the 1970's, I have had the luxury of living in a world with electricity and lights so my perspective is skewed.
When I was in elementary school I remember my parents had friends over for dinner one night. The husband was a doctor and I don't know how the two families met, but they were friends for some years. That night he brought over a nifty new piece of technology he had, "The Emergency Light."
All right, truthfully I don't know what the thing was called, but it was an emergency light to me. It plugged into the outlet in your room and sat there doing nothing, that is, until there was an interruption in power. At that point, the bright flash light component at the top lit up and you had light in the night, in the storm, in the whatever it was that merited light.
Speaking of, if you just needed a flashlight you could pull it out of the wall and presto, you had an unwieldy yet workable flashlight. All due to a rechargeable battery and some advances in circuitry. This is all boring and old news today, but that little light sat on the wall in my parents room for many many years, ready to serve if it was ever needed.
That doctor I later learned was at the general practice I went to whenever I needed general medical assistance. I remembered him being somewhat larger and discovered from my parents that he had been, until he lost a lung due to cancer. I also bought a town home just across the street from where they lived, but that was much later too. Sometimes, when I drove home I would think about that doctor with the one lung and the emergency flash light as I turned into my parking lot.
The Big Boy Update: Mickey Mouse Club House. He is still nuts about this show. He is also intrigued with the iPad. Both are reserved for times of need. Or at least the iPad is. I think we bring it out about once every two weeks and I don't mind if I forget about it all together. The good news is he doesn't remember it enough to ask for it so it always performs the magic of keeping him occupied in special cases when that's important.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I want outside. She really wants to go outside, all the time, in any weather. This afternoon she went outside with Nana and enjoyed swinging so much she fell asleep in the swing.
Someone Once Said: Better to be tempted and resist, than be disappointed.
When I was in elementary school I remember my parents had friends over for dinner one night. The husband was a doctor and I don't know how the two families met, but they were friends for some years. That night he brought over a nifty new piece of technology he had, "The Emergency Light."
All right, truthfully I don't know what the thing was called, but it was an emergency light to me. It plugged into the outlet in your room and sat there doing nothing, that is, until there was an interruption in power. At that point, the bright flash light component at the top lit up and you had light in the night, in the storm, in the whatever it was that merited light.
Speaking of, if you just needed a flashlight you could pull it out of the wall and presto, you had an unwieldy yet workable flashlight. All due to a rechargeable battery and some advances in circuitry. This is all boring and old news today, but that little light sat on the wall in my parents room for many many years, ready to serve if it was ever needed.
That doctor I later learned was at the general practice I went to whenever I needed general medical assistance. I remembered him being somewhat larger and discovered from my parents that he had been, until he lost a lung due to cancer. I also bought a town home just across the street from where they lived, but that was much later too. Sometimes, when I drove home I would think about that doctor with the one lung and the emergency flash light as I turned into my parking lot.
The Big Boy Update: Mickey Mouse Club House. He is still nuts about this show. He is also intrigued with the iPad. Both are reserved for times of need. Or at least the iPad is. I think we bring it out about once every two weeks and I don't mind if I forget about it all together. The good news is he doesn't remember it enough to ask for it so it always performs the magic of keeping him occupied in special cases when that's important.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I want outside. She really wants to go outside, all the time, in any weather. This afternoon she went outside with Nana and enjoyed swinging so much she fell asleep in the swing.
Someone Once Said: Better to be tempted and resist, than be disappointed.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
The Mystery of Fundraising
Fundraising is like magic to me. But I don't mean magic like in Harry Potter. Definitely not. I mean magic like the wonderful slight of hand my father does when he performs as a magician. I've been watching him perform magic all my life and it is still fascinating. Knowing the amount of skill and time investment he has in order to make what appears to be a trick go off successfully and effortlessly is a fairly good comparison I think to the magic of fundraising.
You have a cause and you need to raise money. If you know what you're doing, have a compelling case and know how to ask potential donors in just the right way, you will get that money and you'll be able to build the black bear conservatory you know we desperately need. But, if you fumble through it or ask the wrong way at the wrong time or to the wrong people, you'll not only get no money, you'll have angry, insulted people who don't want to have anything to do with your cause.
And that, is pure magic. I've seen it in action. I've been approached and a compelling case presented in the proper way has caused me to want to join the cause personally. But I don't know how to work that magic myself.
And yet I find myself involved in a capital campaign with our children's school. I will be responsible for asking people, convincing people, to participate in our cause. It's rather like a fear of rattle snakes or of heights and yet I accepted the position.
There is something to be said for going out of your comfort zone to learn new things. This feels like more of a leap off a cliff right now though...
The Big Boy Update: Fire ants! He's having a rough day. His skin is still a mess, he still itches and then he threw up his lunch because he said, "my tummy is full." So I don't know what's going on right now. He was feeling better though and then, to add one more insult to his dermis, he found some fire ants. Grandpa saved him and got them off quickly though.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "I want the water." She'll be eighteen-months-old later this week and she's doing very well verbally. She says many small sentences, some two and three words. She even manages four word sentences sometimes, such as when she wanted the water in the car the other day but couldn't reach the bottle.
Someone Once Said: Society adapts to facts, or doesn’t survive.
You have a cause and you need to raise money. If you know what you're doing, have a compelling case and know how to ask potential donors in just the right way, you will get that money and you'll be able to build the black bear conservatory you know we desperately need. But, if you fumble through it or ask the wrong way at the wrong time or to the wrong people, you'll not only get no money, you'll have angry, insulted people who don't want to have anything to do with your cause.
And that, is pure magic. I've seen it in action. I've been approached and a compelling case presented in the proper way has caused me to want to join the cause personally. But I don't know how to work that magic myself.
And yet I find myself involved in a capital campaign with our children's school. I will be responsible for asking people, convincing people, to participate in our cause. It's rather like a fear of rattle snakes or of heights and yet I accepted the position.
There is something to be said for going out of your comfort zone to learn new things. This feels like more of a leap off a cliff right now though...
The Big Boy Update: Fire ants! He's having a rough day. His skin is still a mess, he still itches and then he threw up his lunch because he said, "my tummy is full." So I don't know what's going on right now. He was feeling better though and then, to add one more insult to his dermis, he found some fire ants. Grandpa saved him and got them off quickly though.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "I want the water." She'll be eighteen-months-old later this week and she's doing very well verbally. She says many small sentences, some two and three words. She even manages four word sentences sometimes, such as when she wanted the water in the car the other day but couldn't reach the bottle.
Someone Once Said: Society adapts to facts, or doesn’t survive.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
The Returned ATM Card
I was stuck across the street from my bank for what was at least seven hours this morning, trying to make it through rush hour traffic, just to deposit a check. I could see the ATM. I could imagine going up to it, inserting my card, entering my PIN and depositing that check that had been sitting in my wallet for far too long. I wasn't sure I was ever going to get there at the rate traffic was going though.
I did eventually get there but with all that time to spare as I stared at the ATM across the street I remembered something that happened when I was in high school or maybe college. Did I ever mention that I've never moved far from home? That ATM I was looking at is at the bank I opened my first bank account at when I was eight. They didn't have ATMs then but it's still the same bank.
One time, years later, I got so excited (apparently) about the money coming out of the chute at the machine that I walked off and left my ATM card. I didn't notice it was missing, most likely because I was so busy spending that money on candy or lip gloss. That night I came home and my father handed my my card. What? How did he have my card?
He said a friend he worked with had happened along to the ATM possibly right after I left. He recognized the name, so he took the card and brought it to my father. Now I don't live in a teeny, tiny town. I live in the capital of my state and I live in a fairly busy area. What incredible luck that my father's associate would happen along and save my card.
I remember dad being very nice about the whole thing, understanding how it might be possible to forget your card. I also noticed later, that the ATM changed it's order of operations. Initially, you got your money and then the card back. Now, the last thing you get is the cash. Perhaps it wasn't uncommon for people to be focused on the task at hand, "Need money!" and forget their card?
The Big Boy Update: Red all over. He's got an itchy, red body from whatever reaction he had yesterday. We've lubed him up with hydra-cortisone cream but he's going to have an itchy few days until he heals.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Finding fuzz between her toes. I completely forgot all about this until I saw my daughter doing this the other day. She had pulled her socks off and was looking between each of her toes and getting the fuzz out from between them. I suppose as adults our toes are too big or maybe I just have better socks because I haven't seen toe fuzz in a long time but I remember toe fuzz removal being a regular thing when I was a little girl.
Fitness Update: Pullups. At the gym several weeks ago, Don had us try to do pullups. He helped us get to these high hand grips and we tried to do a single pullup. We failed. I asked him today if we were building muscle and would we ever be able to do pullups? He said we could do them now and he'd show us later. And we did. It wasn't easy, but we each did two sets of five pullups. Progress ladies!
Someone Once Said: When something must be done, engineers can find a way that is economically feasible.
I did eventually get there but with all that time to spare as I stared at the ATM across the street I remembered something that happened when I was in high school or maybe college. Did I ever mention that I've never moved far from home? That ATM I was looking at is at the bank I opened my first bank account at when I was eight. They didn't have ATMs then but it's still the same bank.
One time, years later, I got so excited (apparently) about the money coming out of the chute at the machine that I walked off and left my ATM card. I didn't notice it was missing, most likely because I was so busy spending that money on candy or lip gloss. That night I came home and my father handed my my card. What? How did he have my card?
He said a friend he worked with had happened along to the ATM possibly right after I left. He recognized the name, so he took the card and brought it to my father. Now I don't live in a teeny, tiny town. I live in the capital of my state and I live in a fairly busy area. What incredible luck that my father's associate would happen along and save my card.
I remember dad being very nice about the whole thing, understanding how it might be possible to forget your card. I also noticed later, that the ATM changed it's order of operations. Initially, you got your money and then the card back. Now, the last thing you get is the cash. Perhaps it wasn't uncommon for people to be focused on the task at hand, "Need money!" and forget their card?
The Big Boy Update: Red all over. He's got an itchy, red body from whatever reaction he had yesterday. We've lubed him up with hydra-cortisone cream but he's going to have an itchy few days until he heals.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Finding fuzz between her toes. I completely forgot all about this until I saw my daughter doing this the other day. She had pulled her socks off and was looking between each of her toes and getting the fuzz out from between them. I suppose as adults our toes are too big or maybe I just have better socks because I haven't seen toe fuzz in a long time but I remember toe fuzz removal being a regular thing when I was a little girl.
Fitness Update: Pullups. At the gym several weeks ago, Don had us try to do pullups. He helped us get to these high hand grips and we tried to do a single pullup. We failed. I asked him today if we were building muscle and would we ever be able to do pullups? He said we could do them now and he'd show us later. And we did. It wasn't easy, but we each did two sets of five pullups. Progress ladies!
Someone Once Said: When something must be done, engineers can find a way that is economically feasible.
Monday, May 6, 2013
Cutting Board Breakfasts
We've moved the children to a small child-sized table for their meals that they are really enjoying eating at. They can sit down and get up when they want to and aside from our concern about controlling mess, I like the change. The high chairs are in the attic and that's where I hope they'll stay.
When I was young my mother had a chair she would feed me at every morning. To this day it's still in her kitchen (or it's descendant as I think the original died) and I hardly notice it's there when I visit them.
In the morning she'd pull that high chair up to the side of the counter and she'd pull out the built-in cutting board that was the perfect height for a small child sitting in a high chair and I'd eat all sorts of things for breakfast.
I don't know how many years I sat in that chair. It's still there to this day because it's also a stepping stool. Now, my children are just the right age to start using the chair too. I wonder if they'll get served meals at the cutting board too?
The Big Boy Update: Allergy attack or just sensitivity to something unknown? He got very red in the face today, including getting somewhat puffy said his teacher. They called and we authorized some Benedryl. When we arrived, he was red, but I didn't see hives, just a very itchy kid. They gave him foods for snack he has regularly. Did he touch something outside in the playground? I don't know. At lunch, he got red again as soon as he put food in his mouth, but his mouth was fine and his hands were fine and he insisted on continuing to eat the item which means it wasn't making his mouth itchy. So we're at a loss. His pediatrician has said young children can have sensitivities to things and many people jump directly to the diagnosis of allergy when many times that's not the case. She's recommended holding off on allergy testing for now.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Shopping for a phone. She got the shopping cart (plastic) and put the phone in it and was, apparently, driving around looking for the check-out lane. Already shopping for phones and not even eighteen months yet.
Fitness Update: Three margaritas last night for Cinco de Mayo and I was not my best this morning at the gym.
Someone Once Said: A public employee, having no self-respect, needs and demands a show of public respect.
When I was young my mother had a chair she would feed me at every morning. To this day it's still in her kitchen (or it's descendant as I think the original died) and I hardly notice it's there when I visit them.
In the morning she'd pull that high chair up to the side of the counter and she'd pull out the built-in cutting board that was the perfect height for a small child sitting in a high chair and I'd eat all sorts of things for breakfast.
I don't know how many years I sat in that chair. It's still there to this day because it's also a stepping stool. Now, my children are just the right age to start using the chair too. I wonder if they'll get served meals at the cutting board too?
The Big Boy Update: Allergy attack or just sensitivity to something unknown? He got very red in the face today, including getting somewhat puffy said his teacher. They called and we authorized some Benedryl. When we arrived, he was red, but I didn't see hives, just a very itchy kid. They gave him foods for snack he has regularly. Did he touch something outside in the playground? I don't know. At lunch, he got red again as soon as he put food in his mouth, but his mouth was fine and his hands were fine and he insisted on continuing to eat the item which means it wasn't making his mouth itchy. So we're at a loss. His pediatrician has said young children can have sensitivities to things and many people jump directly to the diagnosis of allergy when many times that's not the case. She's recommended holding off on allergy testing for now.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Shopping for a phone. She got the shopping cart (plastic) and put the phone in it and was, apparently, driving around looking for the check-out lane. Already shopping for phones and not even eighteen months yet.
Fitness Update: Three margaritas last night for Cinco de Mayo and I was not my best this morning at the gym.
Someone Once Said: A public employee, having no self-respect, needs and demands a show of public respect.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Harriet and the Chewieo Bars
Based on a very persuasive request by my son yesterday, we made Chewieo Bars. This is a recipe I've been making since I was in High School. I tend to make it around the holiday season, so the smell reminds me of friends and family and presents and overeating. But there's nothing holiday-specific about it so we made them yesterday.
Later in the day we took some over to our neighbors as they had invited us over for Mint Juleps and a fun evening. We found out shortly after we arrived that the Chewieo Bars were a success because Madison, their two-year-old, was starting on her second bar and both her parents had already had one.
This morning we all met out at one of the swing sets that are our impromptu meeting grounds on an almost daily basis. When one of our children just has to go outside to swing or slide they're allowed to pick which swing set/playground they want to go to. Invariably they want to go to the neighbors back yard because they might get to see their friends and swing at the same time. When my children see Madison out in their back yard you know they've got to go join in. But back to the bars...
My neighbor said she told her mother about them when she spoke to her on the phone last night and how delicious they were. In the middle of the night while nursing her son, she was reading her email and her mother had found the recipe on the internet and had emailed it to her. I told her I'd be glad to send her my recipe as it had been a favorite for so many years. I also told her about the person I got the recipe from so long ago.
Her name was Harriet and she was the mother of my then boyfriend. She would make these bars from time to time and we would eat them in no time flat. One day I came over and noticed she had a large bandage over her thumb. While cutting up the very chewey bars, she had sliced through the tendon on the back of her thumb. She was in for months of rehabilitation to regain it's use as a result. I remember seeing her with a ball of blue therapy putty in her hand for the longest time as she worked and worked on her thumb's strength and mobility.
I think of her also when I look at one of my Cutco knives. She didn't cut her thumb on the sharpest knive, no, she cut her thumb on the Sandwich Spreader. This is notoriously the wimpiest of knives as it's primary function is to spread mustard and mayonnaise and then at the very end of your sandwich making endeavor, gently cut the bread in half. Easy peasie. I can just imagine her trying to cut the very resilient chewieo bars and running into trouble with that knife.
As luck would have it, I ran into Harriet's second son and older brother to the one I dated just recently at a park. I hadn't seen him since college, which is going back quite a pace. It was a happy reunion as we caught up over the years. I met his daughter and heard about my old boyfriend's wife and seven-year-old son. I also found out his mother, Harriet, is deceased. Had I thought of it then, I would have told him how I'm reminded of her so often.
You say you're dying to know the recipe for Chewieo Bars? Here you go...
Ingredients:
- 4 cups marshmallows
- 3 cups cheerios
- 1 stick butter
- 1 can Eagle Brand Condensed milk
- 6 oz. semi-sweet chocolate chips
- 1 box yellow cake mix
Directions:
Preheat over to 350º. Melt the stick of butter and spread it evenly across a large deep cookie tray. Pat the cake mix powder into the butter evenly. Add the remaining dry ingredients and then drizzle the condensed milk over the top. Cook for 25-30 minutes. Let cool and cut into bars.
The Big Boy Update: "Reese, clean up so we can go eat breakfast." I kid you not, he said this twice the other morning when I was getting them up and dressed. He knows we clean up the play room before going down to eat, but he's never taken complete initiative to tidy it without prompting from me. Not only did he enlist his sister for help, he didn't stop until everything was back in place. I was very proud of him.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Wet, wet" She's said this several times lately and needed to go to the potty right then. I've learned the hard way more than once so now she's whisked off to the bathroom as soon as she starts saying, "wet."
Someone Once Said: When faced with a problem you do not understand, do any part of it you do understand, then look at it again.
Later in the day we took some over to our neighbors as they had invited us over for Mint Juleps and a fun evening. We found out shortly after we arrived that the Chewieo Bars were a success because Madison, their two-year-old, was starting on her second bar and both her parents had already had one.
This morning we all met out at one of the swing sets that are our impromptu meeting grounds on an almost daily basis. When one of our children just has to go outside to swing or slide they're allowed to pick which swing set/playground they want to go to. Invariably they want to go to the neighbors back yard because they might get to see their friends and swing at the same time. When my children see Madison out in their back yard you know they've got to go join in. But back to the bars...
My neighbor said she told her mother about them when she spoke to her on the phone last night and how delicious they were. In the middle of the night while nursing her son, she was reading her email and her mother had found the recipe on the internet and had emailed it to her. I told her I'd be glad to send her my recipe as it had been a favorite for so many years. I also told her about the person I got the recipe from so long ago.
Her name was Harriet and she was the mother of my then boyfriend. She would make these bars from time to time and we would eat them in no time flat. One day I came over and noticed she had a large bandage over her thumb. While cutting up the very chewey bars, she had sliced through the tendon on the back of her thumb. She was in for months of rehabilitation to regain it's use as a result. I remember seeing her with a ball of blue therapy putty in her hand for the longest time as she worked and worked on her thumb's strength and mobility.
I think of her also when I look at one of my Cutco knives. She didn't cut her thumb on the sharpest knive, no, she cut her thumb on the Sandwich Spreader. This is notoriously the wimpiest of knives as it's primary function is to spread mustard and mayonnaise and then at the very end of your sandwich making endeavor, gently cut the bread in half. Easy peasie. I can just imagine her trying to cut the very resilient chewieo bars and running into trouble with that knife.
As luck would have it, I ran into Harriet's second son and older brother to the one I dated just recently at a park. I hadn't seen him since college, which is going back quite a pace. It was a happy reunion as we caught up over the years. I met his daughter and heard about my old boyfriend's wife and seven-year-old son. I also found out his mother, Harriet, is deceased. Had I thought of it then, I would have told him how I'm reminded of her so often.
You say you're dying to know the recipe for Chewieo Bars? Here you go...
Ingredients:
- 4 cups marshmallows
- 3 cups cheerios
- 1 stick butter
- 1 can Eagle Brand Condensed milk
- 6 oz. semi-sweet chocolate chips
- 1 box yellow cake mix
Directions:
Preheat over to 350º. Melt the stick of butter and spread it evenly across a large deep cookie tray. Pat the cake mix powder into the butter evenly. Add the remaining dry ingredients and then drizzle the condensed milk over the top. Cook for 25-30 minutes. Let cool and cut into bars.
The Big Boy Update: "Reese, clean up so we can go eat breakfast." I kid you not, he said this twice the other morning when I was getting them up and dressed. He knows we clean up the play room before going down to eat, but he's never taken complete initiative to tidy it without prompting from me. Not only did he enlist his sister for help, he didn't stop until everything was back in place. I was very proud of him.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Wet, wet" She's said this several times lately and needed to go to the potty right then. I've learned the hard way more than once so now she's whisked off to the bathroom as soon as she starts saying, "wet."
Someone Once Said: When faced with a problem you do not understand, do any part of it you do understand, then look at it again.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
The Trash Can Stomping Scar
I was in the tub this morning when I noticed a scar on my left knee that I hadn't seen in years. Actually, that's not exactly true. I see that scar probably all the time, but since it's been in that spot on my knee since I was a child, it doesn't even register any more.
It's a white line about an inch long on the outside of my knee and I remember when it happened. I was in elementary school most certainly, but old enough to help my parents out with various household tasks.
One day my mother asked me to take out the trash. I had helped her before with this task, but this time she said, "Make sure the lid is on very tightly. We've been having a problem with the raccoons and I don't want to have to clean up trash strewn all around the yard again."
I longed for my mother's approval, so I was going to be very certain not even a gang of raccoons, working in unison, could get that garbage lid off. I put in the trash, placed the lid on top, climbed up on top of the silver metal trash can and proceeded to jump up and down on the lid. I wasn't concerned about the trash man's ability to remove the lid later, I just wanted keep those pesky raccoons out. And then, right in the middle of my excellent plan, I fell.
I don't know if the lid buckled, but I wouldn't blame it if it did, I was jumping up and down on it. I don't remember how I fell, but I know I landed poorly and the side of my knee scraped down one of the four wooden stakes my father had in the ground to keep the trash can in place.
I looked at my knee. It was a strange cut. I'd been cut so many times before I was mostly doing damage assesment so I'd know how badly to scream or cry at that point. But in this case, the cut wasn't bleeding. A small, clean trench of skin had been carved out and underneath it was beautiful, white fatty tissue. I didn't know it was beautiful, white fatty tissue at the time and I suppose not knowing what was going on and why the heck it wasn't bleeding scared me. I mean, how badly must you have hurt yourself for there to be no blood? This could be trouble.
I ran back to the kitchen door to tell mom as I tried not to cry. Fortunately, by the time I got to her, blood has started to seep through and I realized I was okay after all.
It took a good while for that cut to heal. Today, interestingly enough, the scar is a much lighter color than most other scars I have. I had forgotten all about those unreliable silver trash can and the raccoons and the trash man walking through our back yard to pick up our trash and garbage every week until this morning when I looked at my knee in the tub and saw that little white scar.
The Big Boy Update: "I want to make cookies." We didn't have any plans this morning and we were trying to decide where to go or what to do when my son announced, "I want to make cookies." My husband and I like cookies and a trip to the grocery store is great fun to both children as they like to try the samples at the deli and help us with the shopping list. So off we go to get, among other things, all the ingredients to make Chewieo Bars. When we got home, my son helped us put all the ingredients into the pan and he watched as the marshmallows bubble as the bars cooked. Unfortunately, he didn't eat his meal at lunch so he hasn't had a chance to try them yet.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Cutting up sugar snap peas. I sat her down at the little table and chairs just her height and gave her a tray with some snap peas and the safety waffle cutter and asked her to cut up the peas for snack. This is something they do at school. She sat there for a long while, cutting (or possibly hacking) at the snap peas and eating small bits from time to time.
Fitness Update: This is more about weight versus fitness. I decided to put on some weight because of the muscles I've (hopefully) been building over time. I'm holding now at seven pounds more than I had been in months past months. It was not hard to gain that seven pounds I might add. I do like food.
Someone Once Said: Weapons are the last result of faulty diplomacy.
It's a white line about an inch long on the outside of my knee and I remember when it happened. I was in elementary school most certainly, but old enough to help my parents out with various household tasks.
One day my mother asked me to take out the trash. I had helped her before with this task, but this time she said, "Make sure the lid is on very tightly. We've been having a problem with the raccoons and I don't want to have to clean up trash strewn all around the yard again."
I longed for my mother's approval, so I was going to be very certain not even a gang of raccoons, working in unison, could get that garbage lid off. I put in the trash, placed the lid on top, climbed up on top of the silver metal trash can and proceeded to jump up and down on the lid. I wasn't concerned about the trash man's ability to remove the lid later, I just wanted keep those pesky raccoons out. And then, right in the middle of my excellent plan, I fell.
I don't know if the lid buckled, but I wouldn't blame it if it did, I was jumping up and down on it. I don't remember how I fell, but I know I landed poorly and the side of my knee scraped down one of the four wooden stakes my father had in the ground to keep the trash can in place.
I looked at my knee. It was a strange cut. I'd been cut so many times before I was mostly doing damage assesment so I'd know how badly to scream or cry at that point. But in this case, the cut wasn't bleeding. A small, clean trench of skin had been carved out and underneath it was beautiful, white fatty tissue. I didn't know it was beautiful, white fatty tissue at the time and I suppose not knowing what was going on and why the heck it wasn't bleeding scared me. I mean, how badly must you have hurt yourself for there to be no blood? This could be trouble.
I ran back to the kitchen door to tell mom as I tried not to cry. Fortunately, by the time I got to her, blood has started to seep through and I realized I was okay after all.
It took a good while for that cut to heal. Today, interestingly enough, the scar is a much lighter color than most other scars I have. I had forgotten all about those unreliable silver trash can and the raccoons and the trash man walking through our back yard to pick up our trash and garbage every week until this morning when I looked at my knee in the tub and saw that little white scar.
The Big Boy Update: "I want to make cookies." We didn't have any plans this morning and we were trying to decide where to go or what to do when my son announced, "I want to make cookies." My husband and I like cookies and a trip to the grocery store is great fun to both children as they like to try the samples at the deli and help us with the shopping list. So off we go to get, among other things, all the ingredients to make Chewieo Bars. When we got home, my son helped us put all the ingredients into the pan and he watched as the marshmallows bubble as the bars cooked. Unfortunately, he didn't eat his meal at lunch so he hasn't had a chance to try them yet.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Cutting up sugar snap peas. I sat her down at the little table and chairs just her height and gave her a tray with some snap peas and the safety waffle cutter and asked her to cut up the peas for snack. This is something they do at school. She sat there for a long while, cutting (or possibly hacking) at the snap peas and eating small bits from time to time.
Fitness Update: This is more about weight versus fitness. I decided to put on some weight because of the muscles I've (hopefully) been building over time. I'm holding now at seven pounds more than I had been in months past months. It was not hard to gain that seven pounds I might add. I do like food.
Someone Once Said: Weapons are the last result of faulty diplomacy.
Friday, May 3, 2013
Kerfuffle
Every now and then I hear a word I've never heard before. And by that I don't mean baby babble, I hear new baby words all the time. And I don't mean a word that is field specific like some of the exceptionally long and arduous medical procedure terms. I also don't mean something in a foreign language. Or slang.
I suppose now that I think of it, I hear words I've never heard before on a regular basis. But for the most part those are words that aren't of note or interest to me or would be terms I could integrate into my vocabulary.
But every now and then there's a new word. Usually, when this happens, I write down the word and look it up later. These days, you can look up the word right away because, hey, smart phone. Then you can tell the people around you that yes, "kerfuffle" is a real word meaning "commotion or fuss" and you can make a mental note to work the use of kerfuffle into a conversation sometime in the near future. Or at least if your me, you do.
I remember when I heard the word "cloying" for the first time. I remember where I was (Rhode Island) and I know who said it (my co-worker's mother) and I remember the situation. I love the word cloying.
I remember the first time I saw the word "flummox" as I read the back of a video game box years ago. I remember how the game promised to give you hours of fun. You would, "flummox a monkey" among other thrilling game-pursuits.
Words can be fun. I like new words. I get this from my mother. I think she's taught me new, interesting words more than anyone else.
The Big Boy Update: "There's Daddy Gavin. Where's Momma Gavin?" Tonight at Movie Night our friend, Louie, came but his wife and their three children, the youngest of whom is named, Gavin, were out of town. My son looked around and when he didn't see the rest of the family, he had to ask me where they were...in his own verbal way.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: We went to another language lab study yesterday. This is volunteering we do at a lab at a local university doing research on language development in children. This time she was asked to play sets of two items, one she would know and one that was foreign. After a bit, the researcher would ask her, "can you hand me the zarbood?" Sometimes it would be a word the child would know, such as "apple". Sometimes it would be a word that the child didn't know and didn't apply to either item and sometimes it would be a gesture, not unlike sign language that the child didn't know. How the child responded to each of these helps them understand what they do when they encounter an unknown word or label.
Fitness Update: Earliest workout at the gym yet. We got up at 4:30 so we could get to the gym and start working out at five as my neighbor had an early morning at the office. Don gave me some exercises to do while I'm giving my shins a rest for the next week that are the kind of thing you can do while standing around.
Someone Once Said: Brainpower is the scarcest commodity and the only one of real value.
I suppose now that I think of it, I hear words I've never heard before on a regular basis. But for the most part those are words that aren't of note or interest to me or would be terms I could integrate into my vocabulary.
But every now and then there's a new word. Usually, when this happens, I write down the word and look it up later. These days, you can look up the word right away because, hey, smart phone. Then you can tell the people around you that yes, "kerfuffle" is a real word meaning "commotion or fuss" and you can make a mental note to work the use of kerfuffle into a conversation sometime in the near future. Or at least if your me, you do.
I remember when I heard the word "cloying" for the first time. I remember where I was (Rhode Island) and I know who said it (my co-worker's mother) and I remember the situation. I love the word cloying.
I remember the first time I saw the word "flummox" as I read the back of a video game box years ago. I remember how the game promised to give you hours of fun. You would, "flummox a monkey" among other thrilling game-pursuits.
Words can be fun. I like new words. I get this from my mother. I think she's taught me new, interesting words more than anyone else.
The Big Boy Update: "There's Daddy Gavin. Where's Momma Gavin?" Tonight at Movie Night our friend, Louie, came but his wife and their three children, the youngest of whom is named, Gavin, were out of town. My son looked around and when he didn't see the rest of the family, he had to ask me where they were...in his own verbal way.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: We went to another language lab study yesterday. This is volunteering we do at a lab at a local university doing research on language development in children. This time she was asked to play sets of two items, one she would know and one that was foreign. After a bit, the researcher would ask her, "can you hand me the zarbood?" Sometimes it would be a word the child would know, such as "apple". Sometimes it would be a word that the child didn't know and didn't apply to either item and sometimes it would be a gesture, not unlike sign language that the child didn't know. How the child responded to each of these helps them understand what they do when they encounter an unknown word or label.
Fitness Update: Earliest workout at the gym yet. We got up at 4:30 so we could get to the gym and start working out at five as my neighbor had an early morning at the office. Don gave me some exercises to do while I'm giving my shins a rest for the next week that are the kind of thing you can do while standing around.
Someone Once Said: Brainpower is the scarcest commodity and the only one of real value.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
24
Do you have a lucky number? Many people do. I don't have a lucky number because I suppose my math background makes me scoff at thinking one number can be more lucky than any other number. Certainly some numbers may appear more frequently than others given a specific situation, but saying that one number has an affinity for you, as an individual, and shows you preference, doesn't jibe with the statistical, mathematical side of my brain.
What I do have is a favorite number. I have a number I like more than other numbers. And it's for a rather odd reason. Since the title of this post is "24" I have a strong feeling most of you have a pretty good guess as to my favorite number.
I didn't have a favorite number (that I remember) until Junior High School though. It was around that time that we started moving from classroom to classroom, going from science to English to art. The classes were usually close to thirty students, sometimes a few more. That's when twenty-four started showing up.
My maiden name is Spooner. There are a lot of students with last names starting with a letter alphabetically before S. There are also a lot of people with names starting with S, but usually the second letter is earlier in the alphabet then P. So in a class roster, I was commonly near the end of the pack.
Some teachers would sit you in alphabetical order and I might end up in seat 24. Sometimes they'd have roll call by student number and I might be 24. Was I always number 24? No, that would be a statistical anomaly. But I was number twenty-four more than any other number. So I decided I liked that number more than any other number.
It's a nice number too. It's two dozen. It's divisible by so many other numbers that it's like a "super even" number and I am highly partial to even numbers. Even numbers just seem more friendly to me.
So while the number twenty-four has never brought me any luck (that I've noticed), it has been around a lot. If I'm in Las Vegas and I'm putting some chips down on a roulette table, I might be more inclined to put money on twenty-four, although I am not deluded enough to think that will give me any better chance of winning than putting money down on any other number.
Still, there's something satisfying about the imaginary connection between your personal number and external forces. For example, "Your birthday is on the 17th? Mine is on the 17th too!" "Look at those winning lottery numbers, it has your mother's birth year, my cousin's birthday and our neighbor's dog's age, what a coincidence!" Strange? To me yes, but I am not immune to this strange phenomenon either.
The Big Boy Update: Apparently it's bath time because... I mentioned bath time and my son disappeared. I found him a few minutes later with the water to the tub running, his clothes off and him sitting in the tub--in his socks. I'm glad I got in there when I did though. He had only turned on the hot tap.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: At the table. She is sitting in the booster seat at the table now. This morning was the first morning having her and her brother sit side by side at the table together. She did well. He stole her food.
Fitness Update: Not quite four miles and I had to walk and quit. My shins have been bothering me. They seize up and get so tight it's difficult to run. If I can push beyond the first several miles it gets better, but those first few are very hard. It could possibly be shin splints my neighbor says. Her doctorly advice? Take NSAIDs for the next several days and give my legs a rest and see then. I don't have an injury per-se, but I have been ramping up to longer runs and more difficult gym exercises and the wisdom of the Internet says that can cause it. So, several days of recovery time and I'll see how I feel at the start of next week.
Someone Once Said: All logic is merely tautology.
What I do have is a favorite number. I have a number I like more than other numbers. And it's for a rather odd reason. Since the title of this post is "24" I have a strong feeling most of you have a pretty good guess as to my favorite number.
I didn't have a favorite number (that I remember) until Junior High School though. It was around that time that we started moving from classroom to classroom, going from science to English to art. The classes were usually close to thirty students, sometimes a few more. That's when twenty-four started showing up.
My maiden name is Spooner. There are a lot of students with last names starting with a letter alphabetically before S. There are also a lot of people with names starting with S, but usually the second letter is earlier in the alphabet then P. So in a class roster, I was commonly near the end of the pack.
Some teachers would sit you in alphabetical order and I might end up in seat 24. Sometimes they'd have roll call by student number and I might be 24. Was I always number 24? No, that would be a statistical anomaly. But I was number twenty-four more than any other number. So I decided I liked that number more than any other number.
It's a nice number too. It's two dozen. It's divisible by so many other numbers that it's like a "super even" number and I am highly partial to even numbers. Even numbers just seem more friendly to me.
So while the number twenty-four has never brought me any luck (that I've noticed), it has been around a lot. If I'm in Las Vegas and I'm putting some chips down on a roulette table, I might be more inclined to put money on twenty-four, although I am not deluded enough to think that will give me any better chance of winning than putting money down on any other number.
Still, there's something satisfying about the imaginary connection between your personal number and external forces. For example, "Your birthday is on the 17th? Mine is on the 17th too!" "Look at those winning lottery numbers, it has your mother's birth year, my cousin's birthday and our neighbor's dog's age, what a coincidence!" Strange? To me yes, but I am not immune to this strange phenomenon either.
The Big Boy Update: Apparently it's bath time because... I mentioned bath time and my son disappeared. I found him a few minutes later with the water to the tub running, his clothes off and him sitting in the tub--in his socks. I'm glad I got in there when I did though. He had only turned on the hot tap.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: At the table. She is sitting in the booster seat at the table now. This morning was the first morning having her and her brother sit side by side at the table together. She did well. He stole her food.
Fitness Update: Not quite four miles and I had to walk and quit. My shins have been bothering me. They seize up and get so tight it's difficult to run. If I can push beyond the first several miles it gets better, but those first few are very hard. It could possibly be shin splints my neighbor says. Her doctorly advice? Take NSAIDs for the next several days and give my legs a rest and see then. I don't have an injury per-se, but I have been ramping up to longer runs and more difficult gym exercises and the wisdom of the Internet says that can cause it. So, several days of recovery time and I'll see how I feel at the start of next week.
Someone Once Said: All logic is merely tautology.
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