Fixed Things

Remember the keyboard from September 24th that stopped typing an uppercase U?   Remember how I thought it was solved?   I was wrong.   Today,  I spent some time on the phone not once, not twice, but three times with Apple Support.   They were great.   We all hoped it was a software problem and there were many things that pointed to it likely being that.  

It turned out to be a hardware issue though, so this evening I abandoned my husband with the children, leaving him to wash them without getting my daughter's chin wet.  I went off to the Apple store with my keyboard in hand and forty-three minutes later I was home with a new keyboard.  

It was a frustrating several days, but the service and people I worked with were great.  I am so terribly thrilled that when I type tonight, "The Big Boy Update" it will actually be an update an not a pdate.

On the whole front of fixed things, I have had a year-long problem with our dryer.  I can't remember if I wrote about it here because the number of mental cycles I spent frustrated over the whole situation has the memories blurring together.   Suffice it to say we had a dryer with chronic issues that was at first under warranty and later not, but in either case was challenging to find repair people to work on it because it was an unpopular model.

After getting frustrated enough that I took the dryer apart one day myself and discovered plastic parts wearing on each other (thus causing the loud, grinding noise that was driving me mad) I made a desperate call to the manufacturer to see if I could personally order the part for the third replacement. I explained the situation and was suddenly sent up to a manger—without even asking—and that's when the entire situation started to get better.

This manager, Matt, was so helpful.   He coordinated a repairperson and told me history behind the dryer model, saying it had been made by a secondary company and that the in-service date on the one we got was three years after the product had been manufactured.   He understood why it was hard to find people to repair it—because it was poorly made.  

We tried a repair and that lasted a short while.   Then, almost four years after we bought the dryer, he said he would refund the full amount and have someone come and pick up the unit to get it out of circulation.   I tell you, I almost cried right there on the phone with the relief of having the unit gone.

My husband and I did research and Consumer Reports was consulted.   Yesterday we had delivered a new washer and dryer and I am thrilled.    When the dryer runs now, I don't even know it's on.   It is a delight.   The washer and dryer take less time to run their cycles and, well, I could gush some more, but know that I am thrilled to be doing laundry now.

The Big Boy Update:  My son must be playing I Spy at school because he said in the car the other day, "I spy with my little eye, something that starts with 'Sssss'"  They're working on letter sounds at schools.   We were in the car and he told us he was spying a "Sign".

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   My daughter's chin is weeping less, but still looks terrible from the abrasion on top of the cut.   We're taking her in to see a plastic surgeon tomorrow (something we planned from the start) to make sure the healing is going as expected.

Chin Stitches

We got my daughter a balance bike on Friday.  We left later that day to go to the beach with friends.  When we returned, she wanted to go riding.   We put her helmet on and she and I went on an errand to deliver a book to friends some houses over.

On the way back, she got out of control going too fast.   I had told her to slow down, but she wasn't paying attention.   She fell over and our friends, Robbie and Elise, helped her get up.   I thought she had learned her lesson.

Not ten minutes later she was back on the bike, going down the hill to our cul-de-sac.   She slowed down and we looked away.  Then, she made a mistake.   This is a mistake we've been afraid of for some time that we all figured was going to happen to one or more children eventually.   She went into the driveway of our neighbors at the bottom of the street.  Their driveway is steep.  No, it's not steep, it's a cliff.   It's a fun looking cliff to a child who doesn't know how to control their speed on a new balance bike (or other wheel-based conveyance).  It's fun looking to a young person who has not much experience in pain and no idea of their own mortality.   In other words, all the children on our street.

She wiped out.   We didn't see it, but it must have been bad.  My son told us, looking rather ashen, that she had fallen.  We could hear the screams.  My husband got her up and said "we have a stitches situation".   We walked back to the house, fairly calm, because that helmet we make her wear, saved her from far worse injury.

I called my sitter and asked if she was available right now.   She said she'd come right over.   She was at the house in I think three minutes (she lives literally around the corner).   We daubed off her chin and got her in the car.   I called our friends and asked where to go, because we don't have much experience in the whole trauma area.    He suggested a children's emergency room at one of the hospitals.

We arrived and checked in.  My daughter was in fine spirits the entire time, including dancing around on the floor of the waiting room to an interactive video game that's projected on the floor.    When we were called back, the doctor looked at her and gave us a rundown of what she was planning on doing.   I contacted our friends (both doctors) again and asked what they recommended.   I was so touched by their concern.  The husband made several calls to his associates, confirming which suture type would be better.   We got some advice and when our doctor came back, I made a request to change her treatment plan.

The request was to change the external sutures to ones that were not rapid absorbing.   Those are helpful in that you don't have to do a follow-up appointment to have the sutures removed.   However, they have a higher inflammatory response than the alternative, Prolene option.   We told her follow-up would not be a problem and we'd prefer the non-dissolving sutures for the external stitches (she needed both internal and external stitches).

They gave my daughter IN Versaid, a mild sedative, injected nasally, and then she put in the stitches.   The sedative didn't work as well as would be ideal.  While my daughter wasn't in any real pain, she was aware there was tugging and pulling on her chin and we had to hold her hands and neck still so the doctor could stitch her up.   She wasn't in real distress, just reacting to the situation by wiggling and not being still.

When the stitches were in, we took her home.   The Versaid made her very friendly, but in a slow-reaction kind of way.  She waved at people and answered questions, but only after thinking about it for a while.   She couldn't walk well when we got her home and she tried to tell her very asleep brother about getting stitches while lying on her mattress.    She fell asleep shortly and had a good night's rest.

She was three-hours short on sleep, but seemed ready to go to school this morning.  Tomorrow I'm scheduling an appointment with a plastic surgeon to confirm we're doing the right things to ensure her healing will be optimal for minimal scaring.

She still doesn't seem upset at all by the entire ordeal.   She wants to see the chin when we change the bandage and she likes to look at pictures of her chin on the phone.   I hope it's due to her personality, which I think is a lot of it, but also how we dealt with the situation, making it something that was important, but not terrible or awful.

We talked to her about how her brother had gone to the hospital before to have a abscess fixed by a doctor and now she was going to get stitches.   She was interested in both the hospital, the help the doctor was going to give her and the doctor herself.   While we were in the waiting room, I told her what was going to happen.   She looked at me and said, "I want to be a doctor."  Perhaps someday she will.

The Big Boy Update:   My son impressed me all weekend at the beach.   He was the only boy, with five girls surrounding him at the beach house.  He got along with them all, didn't complain and was very friendly to everyone.  I missed several picture opportunities, but the one I remember the most is my son sitting at the edge of the top bunk, between Juliette and Ellie, watching some show on the Disney Channel that was targeted at eight-year-olds.   He was entranced and very happy to be hanging out with the older girls.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Today my daughter's chin is weeping and oozing from the large chin wound she got yesterday (see above).  The scrape on top of the scrape on top of the laceration on her chin needs to air out, dry and scab over.   We let her watch some television for a while in the hopes that the inflammation would reduce and we could put some gauze back over it.

The Broken Keyboard Situation:   Remember that capital "U" problem?   It's not a fluke, it's the keyboard.  I'm going to have to take it in for replacement it appears.   I have to keep my laptop open on the left of my desk for those situations in which I need to type a capital U.  As it turns out, I rarely type that particular keystroke.   But when I need to, it's nice to have the keystroke combination work.

The Wet Sand Memory

We were out at the beach this morning playing in the sand and surf.  My daughter brought the bucket and spade and came over to me, asking if I could help her build a sand castle.   I told her we couldn't build a sand castle at this location, because it was dry and wouldn't hold together.   I suggested we go down near the water where the wet sand was and I'd help her build something fun.

Telling her about the need for wet sand reminded me of something from my childhood, a memory that I've thought about so many times I was sure I'd written about it here, but after searching, I don't think I actually have.   This memory is from many years ago when I was at an age that playing in sand boxes was still something fun and exciting.

I don't remember where it was, but we went to visit a magician friend of my father's.   He had a daughter that was close i age to me.   After introducing us, the four parents went off to do adult things and their daughter and I headed went off to play.   We went up to her attic, I think it was, which had been converted into a playroom.   There were toys after toys after toys in that room.   I was overwhelmed with the number of toys she had piled all over this room.

She took me over to a kitchen play set after a few minutes.   I remember discovering her play refrigerator dispensed pretend ice cubes.    I had never seen anything like this before and I remember thinking she was so lucky, because I didn't know anyone who had a refrigerator that had real, plastic, pretend ice cubes that shot out of the ice dispenser on the door.   At that time, our refrigerator at home only had ice trays, so this was truly the height of luxury in my mind.

Later that day we went out to her back yard.  It was wooded and had lots of interesting foliage.   It also had a big sandbox filled with sand.   I loved sand boxes and this one was filled with beach sand, which was light and fine and so much fun to play with.    As we played, I noticed there was an area of the sand that was getting wet.   Then I noticed that area was getting bigger.   Then I realized it was because she was going to the bathroom right where she was sitting.

She told me, "the wet sand is mine" and I told her that was all right with me.

After that weekend I didm't see her again (I have no idea what her name was) for a long time.   It was some years later when I was in my early teens that she attended the annual International Brotherhood of Magician's conference.  My parents and her parents were excited to have us meet again.    I remember we ran into each other in the elevator and I didn't recognize her at all.    From her clothes and attitude I got the distinct impression she liked bad boys and hung out with the smokers during lunch at school and that was never my type.

That may not have been the case, but she and I seemed to have diverged in our paths from that weekend some years ago when we played in the sandbox together.

The Big Boy Update:  Today is my husband's birthday.  My son has been excited about it all day, which might be related to the ice cream plans for after lunch, but we're not sure.   He was helping dad make sand castles (or rather sand moats) at the beach this morning and burst into song, singing Happy Birthday to daddy and grinning from ear to ear.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  The other dad that was with us this weekend would pretend to be a robot around my daughter.  He has four girls, so he knows just what to do to make little girls giggle.   My daughter loved it.   She would turn his power button back on and replace his batteries when he would run out of energy.   She helped change his "programming" so he would help with the dishes instead of the "tickle everyone" program he seemed to have prior.    She even started talking like a robot at one point she was having so much fun with him.

Back Update:  Sometimes fitness activities cause my back to have fits or go wacky or just basically give me grief.   I don't know if it was yesterdays' short run or sitting on the couch last night after dinner, but my SI joint subluxated again during the movie we watched.   I looked fairly pathetic trying to get up and not being able to do so without looking very foolish.   It was painful, but it was pressure more than anything.   Thankfully, most of it resolved overnight.   I didn't exercise today.   I ate birthday ice cream...and a lot of ice cream at that.

Beach Ball

We're at the beach this weekend with our friends.   We've been friends with them for several years and they've asked us to join their family multiple times at their beach house, but it's never worked out.    We weren't sure if we were going to make it this year, but we shuffled some things and made it down this weekend, even though the summer was for all intents and purposes, over.

The weather turned out to be great.   I packed long shirts and pants as well as shorts and t-shirts for the children and me because I didn't know what weather we'd encounter.  Today was not only warm, it was sunny too.  The water temperature was great as well, so we spent a lot of time on the beach.

My husband went biking with the other dad and I went running later with the mom.   All six children had a nice time together, which was a bonus, because we didn't know how well the social dynamics were going to work out.  

They bought their home (half of a duplex) on a short sale and then did a lot of renovations to make it into something they felt comfortable renting.   I had heard a lot about the renovations and the challenges they had last year in getting them done in time for the rental season.    I had a picture in my mind of what it would look like, but I was not surprisingly, wrong in what I pictured.   Their house is lovely.

I didn't expect any less, but I think what I like the most is they have similar preferences in style to me.   I feel right at home here.   With six children and four adults, it's a tight fit, but since my two can sleep on mattresses on the floor of our bedroom, we were all able to fit in.

We're off to eat seafood for dinner and then go to some "amazing ice cream pace" as it's called by our friend's children.  

The Big Boy Update:  Asleep on the chair.   My husband played with my son in the water this morning and again this afternoon at the beach.   After he was done this afternoon, my son say in a lawn chair and asked for a towel.   Then, he fell straight asleep in the afternoon sun.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  The kitty cat song.   My daughter still likes this one song from over a year ago.   She calls it, "the kitty cat song" and when she requests it, I put it on for her.

Fitness Update:  Six miles on the beach with my friend.   We didn't run on the beach itself, but the road instead.   Running in one direction was hot, running back, against the wind, was refreshingly cool.

Pita Pizza

My children don't know how to read or spell or write.   But they do know lots of words.   Commonly, they know more words than you think they do.   I remember the day my son told me there was a zeppelin in the sky.   He was two-years-old.   I don't know where he hard that word, although I wouldn't have been surprised if it was Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. 

Children learn words by hearing them in context.  I had picked my children up after their parade at International Peace Day at school.   I had forgotten to bring them something to eat as we drove to lunch.   A few bites of something on the way to lunch makes for a much happier child at the lunch table before the food arrives.

I grabbed a handful of pita pocket slices in a paper towel from the room I was substituting in and went out to collect my children.   We got in the car and I started telling them how we were meeting dad for lunch and he would have pizza for us when we arrived at the restaurant. 

It took me a few minutes to realize they were confused by the word, 'pita' and the word, 'pizza' in context.   They were holding and eating pita, and we were going to have pizza.  When I realized what was happening I did that over-pronuncation thing we do when someone doesn't understand you, saying, "you're eating PEE-TUH and we're going to have PEET-ZUH with dad."   Oh, they said. 

The Big Boy Update:  Yesterday morning my son came downstairs with the cordless phone from the bonus room.   He handed it to me saying, "it's flashing".   I told him that meant there was a message and would he like to hear it?   He listened to the sales call and then we deleted it.  

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My son makes up names for things that either don't have a specific name or that he just wants to name.   His bath cars apparently got names because I heard him telling his sister all which one was which one night.   The next day she was looking in the tub toys drawer, pulling out the toys when she looked to me and said, "where are packer and pooker?"  

Fitness Update:  Our trainer got to talking today.   I think he really wanted to talk because it went on for a bit and I was really wanting to exercise.   I said at one point, "maybe we should do a pushup or something?"  We talked for a few more minutes (it was a good conversation about nice things) and then he tried to kill us for the last five minutes.  

Justify Your Position

I keep a tidy house.   My husband likes things clean and orderly and I do too.   It stays orderly almost all the time, mostly because I have stratagems that make it fairly easy to do, as opposed to a drudgery every day.  

That means there are rules I follow, such as making sure the house is back in order before going to bed.   Another one is, "a place for everything and everything in its place."  That's one I do by default by my husband doesn't think of as often as I do.

When I get something new, be it a gift, a purchase or a rock my children found in the back yard, that thing needs to have a home defined for it.  You laugh about the rock, but we have both a stick and a rock that live in specific spots in our house because they were "important" to my children.   Everything gets a "home" assigned to it once it comes into the house.

Over time, a household evolves.   Some people call it "spring cleaning" but whatever you call it and whenever it happens, it's when you take a look at your things and decide if those things still merit having that spot in your home.

In my house, I like to think of it as things having to justify they still should be here and occupy that spot.   I don't have a problem being a hoarder, getting rid of things and cleaning up is invigorating to me.

This came up today because this afternoon, for at least the fiftieth time, I was looking at this scrub brush in the back of our minivan.   We've had the minivan for three years now, and I still don't know why we have a scrub brush in the side back pocket.  This isn't a little thing, it's one of those six-inch things you scrub the floor with.   I don't know what it's for and I've never seen my husband use it.

I knew I'd asked before why it was there, but I didn't remember what the reason was.   I asked him again today, because if it was going to stay in the car one day longer, that scrub brush needed to justify it's placement there.   My husband said, "I brush off my shoes after golf with it."    Oh.   Ah.

I don't play golf.   I have never seen him use the brush because I don't go to the golf course with him. It is a useful thing and it does have a need to be in that spot.   It just wasn't a need I had.

The Big Boy Update:  My son thinks anything that happened prior to today is, 'yesterday'.  He asked my husband the other day, "yesterday, when you were little, did you play with legos?"   Oh, and because sometimes toddlers say things that are just too strange out of the complete blue, my son said this on the way to lunch today: "If somebody turns into two mommies and two daddies and two Reeses, then they would have to be black and white."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  I was working for what felt like several hours this afternoon in the basement, at this computer,  on work for my children's school.   During that time my husband made dinner, served it to the rest of the family and was cleaning up when I came upstairs.   I saw from the dishes that he'd had a drink with dinner.   When he went off to get something in the bedroom I asked my two-year-old daughter, "how much alcohol has dad had?"   She said, "I dunno, too much."  I tried to not laugh out loud as I walked into the bedroom to tell daddy what his daughter had said.

Capital U

This is strange, I wasn't planning on writing and entire post on a single letter three minutes ago, but three minutes ago, I suddenly wasn't sure I was going to be able to successfully write a post at all.

Out of the blue, my keyboard wouldn't type a capital 'U'.   Lower case 'u' was fine, upper case was no go.   Was it the shift key?  No, every other letter was fine with the shift key.   Strange.   I tried a different application and window and got the same result.  An operating system update had just been applied in the last hour and the machine had been rebooted.  But what odd behavior.

I rebooted again and the problem persisted.   Double strange.  I then opened up my laptop itself (I typically type on an external keyboard) and the 'U' there worked just fine.   What could it be?

It could possibly be the external keyboard, so I powered it off and back on, tried a 'U' in another window and all was fine.   Then, I tried to type "The Big Boy pdate" (which is how I found out there was a problem in the first place) and ran into the same issue.

As an aside, I don't always write these blog posts from top to bottom.  Sometimes, one of the sections is taking mental precedence, so I usually get that section out of the way first.   But back to the keyboard.   I powered it off again, turned it upside down and did some blowing and tapping in the hopes there was something physical in the keyboard causing the trouble.

When I turned it back on for a second time, the problem seems to be resolved.    I don't mind bugs, but bugs that I don't understand always make me want to know more about how computers work.

The Big Boy Update:  My son had a lesson today at a store.  I was looking for a rain jacket for his sister and he was playing with some well-packaged toys.   I checked on him several times and he was fine.   When I came back for him the last time, he had opened a fishing rod and lure set for children.   He loves these things and that particular item had been taped and re-taped several times.   Still, it wasn't okay and now i would have to buy the item, especially because the flimsy plastic shovel had broken in the process.   I took it up to the register and asked the cashier if she could let him know she was disappointed in him for opening the item.   She did a very kind, but firm job of it and my son started crying, because he knew he shouldn't have opened the package.   She felt terrible.  I told her she was perfect and he was learning a lesson.   She snuck it in the bag and we didn't tell my son.   I hope he remembers the lesson.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter loves clothes.   I had only two outfits for her that were fall weather-worthy and I was out of luck if tomorrow's weather was cold and wet again, so this morning I went to the used clothing store and got her a fall wardrobe (for a steal, I love that store).   When she got home she was so excited about the new clothes.  She tried on more than one of them and lots of her new things were, as she told me, "my favorite".

Fitness Update:  My SI joint was much better today.   We did these crawling things at the gym where we crawl like a dog under a bar, stand up to do a jump, turn around and do it in the other direction.   You wouldn't think it would be that hard, especially since the bar is rather high up, but when you have to do them in quantity, they suddenly become exceptionally tiring.

The Windshield Wiper Loaner

I was substituting at school today so I didn't see my husband until we met for lunch.   As we ate lunch my husband said to me, "I want you to go take a look at the car when we're done eating."   Was something wrong?   Had it gotten scratched?   Did someone dent it?   Was there a problem with the tires?   I asked all these questions with an edge of hysteria in my voice because I didn't want our favorite car to have something wrong with it.

He wouldn't tell me.  He did tell me nothing was wrong though, which stymied any more questions I might have asked because it was freshly washed and it's always fairly clean on the inside as my sticky children not allowed in it.

It turns out, the car had changed colors.   It was no longer black—it was red.   My husband had taken it in to get the wiper blades changed.   There is an issue on some cars with wiper blades not making full contact with the windshield, causing an area to smear instead of wipe clean like you'd normally expect.   We have this issue, although it's been minor and we haven't gotten around to doing anything about it for the three months we've had the car.

My husband took the car in this morning to get them changed and they told him it would take them about forty-five minutes due to their schedule, and if he didn't want to wait, they could give him a loaner car.    Further, they said, they would bring our car back to us, to our house, and pick up their loaner car when the wiper blades were exchanged.

Have you ever heard of a car company that does anything like this?   I sure as hell haven't.  I am completely and thoroughly impressed.

I drove the red car back to the house (breaking our unspoken round-trip rule) because it had different options than ours.  We have the P85 and this was an 85.   It's very clear what the P (which stands for "Performance") does when you've had a chance to drive both.   We could also tell that the added suspension option we put on ours made a significant impact on the feel of the drive.   Our car feels like you're riding on a cushion of air.   The red car still drove wonderfully, but you could feel the road underneath you more.

I am still in love with our Tesla Model S, and the company, Tesla Motors, who makes them.    Thanks for a great vehicle and experience guys,

The Big Boy Update:  I paraded through all the classrooms during the International Peace Day celebration today.   I was substituting in the Upper Elementary class and they both begin and lead the parade.   I helped them make a huge peace sign out of sand on our playground field earlier in the morning and as we finished our parade, picking up all the other classrooms, we made a human peace sign by standing around the perimeter and middle lines.   My son wasn't expecting me to parade through his class, as parents aren't part of the celebration.   However, when I walked through, he was happy but stayed in his seat and waited until it was his turn to join the line and meet us outside.   I was proud of him.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter was thrilled to see me in the International Peace Day parade this morning.   She was also excited to see me in the peace sign outside when she arrived.   She was close to me, but she stayed in her spot, standing by her brother coincidentally and sang our school's song along with everyone else.   She did a great job.

Fitness Update:  I just got an out-of-the-blue call from my running buddy down the street.  She got off work unexpectedly early and would I like to go for a short run?   I would.   I have to run get dressed now.   See you tomorrow.

The Double Doodie Adventure

We went on an adventure today.   After lunch my husband and I decided to take the children down to the creek behind our house.    You've been to our house you say?  And you're pretty sure you didn't see a creek in the back?   You're right.   You can't see it at all, but it's there.

During the stark winter months on the rare occasion in which it snows, we can see the creek through the bare tree branches.   We know it's there, because it's the only thing down the steep hill that's not covered in white, icy snow.    It's hard to see because it's hard to get to, even for adults with a machete.

Conveniently enough, my husband has a machete.   I got our racheting clippers and we told the children to follow us carefully.   We made it down the precariously steep back yard by way of hacking and cutting and got to the old silt fence that's been there since the neighborhood was cleared.    That fence has held up a lot of dirt and rocks and is still doing a very good job, years after it was installed.

We lifted the children down past the silt fence, which leads into a canopy of trees.  From there we could see the creek straight ahead.   My son and daughter were excited.  There were rocks.   There was water.  And there was a lot of dirt.   We checked out the old trees that had fallen into or across the stream and then we decided to take a small hike, adding to the adventuresome nature of this toddler experience.

Our friends (specifically my running buddy neighbor) is about ten houses away, along that hidden creek which meandering behind the three roads up above on which those ten houses reside.  Where we were, at the flood plane level, it was easy to walk.   We had heard there was a zip line some of the neighborhood children had put up.   I wanted to do some zipping over the water.

We made it eventually, doing the whole adventure at the breakneck speed of inquisitive toddler stroll.   And yes, there was a zip line.   There was also a makeshift tree house or fort made from some of the construction wood left around.   I zipped.   It was fun.   My husband read the information on the zip part of the zip line and discovered it was adult-weight rated so he zipped too.   My children wanted to do some zipping, but it was over some rocks and a cold stream so we told them they weren't old enough—maybe in a few years.

We decided to exit the creek area through my friend's yard and walk home on the sidewalk.   As we're going up the last wooded hill, my daughter says to me, "I pooped in my pants."   She hasn't done that in a long time, but what could I do.   I told her we'd be home soon.  That was doodie number one.

We came into their back yard and out into the sun again.   Our dog had been with us the whole time and was happily wet and dirty.   We'd been gone for an hour...what does my dog do?   She poops in their back yard.   She had a whole hour to pick any spot in the woods and she waits until we get to my neighbor's yard to find a spot.   That was doodie number two.   I pick it up with my garden glove, throw it in the woods, and take my glove off for washing when I get home.

Then...I turn around to see my daughter taking her pants down in the middle of the yard.   What is she doing?   She tells me she needs to poop.    What?!   This is not the kind of friendly message I was hoping to give our neighbor as I don't think leaving human and animal solids in their grass is a good move.

It turns out my daughter had already gone in her pants, she just wanted to be rid of the mess.   I told her she was going to have to wait until we got home.

We leave the yard and head back on the sidewalks.   As we plod home, my son says, "That was fun.  I want to do it again tomorrow."

The Big Boy Update:  After lunch today at the mall my children were running around and having a good time burning energy.   As we got near the exit, we decided to have a race to the door.   My son got out first, making it to one of those huge concrete planters that's strategically placed in an entrance so a car can't drive into the doors.   As my son was the first one out, he exclaimed, "I'm the winner.  I get to have this plant."  We told him if he could put it in the car, he could take it home.    He tried.   He decided to leave the unmoving planter there.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter went to the grocery store with me to get ingredients for dinner.   She saw the store and was happy we'd arrived.  The parking lot was full so I had to do a loop to find a good spot.  When we turned around the grocery store went out of sight and my daughter cried out from the back seat, "oh no, the grocery store's gone!"

Fitness Update:   I had my SI joint subluxated this morning when I went to the gym.   It's at the top of your pelvis and in my case, was bothering me on the right side.   It was bothering me mightily though.   I rolled it out on my foam roller at home before going to the gym.   I rolled it out during warm-up and took a break between things to roll it out again, hoping I'd be able to bend over without wanting to scream.    My trainer had me stop five minutes early and roll it even more.   That helped a little, but what fixed it was one massive adjustment at the chiropractor's office later in the morning.   In about twenty minutes after he adjusted me, I felt totally fine.

In the Corner of my Eye

I have this piece of foam on the counter in my kitchen.   It's a strange piece of foam.   I went to The Scrap Exchange today with my neighbor.  This is a place for recycled and repurposed materials.   My neighbor and I love to go and get strange and unusual things.   I was looking for something to aid in my Halloween adult drink plans for this year.   After last year's urine specimens, I have a reputation to uphold.

There is a section of the store with different size bags.  You can get a $3.50 bag up to a $15.00 bag and fill them with as much as you can stuff in from these blue bins.   I saw some things I was interested in so I got a $3.50 bag and started putting small items in that I thought my children would enjoy playing with.  

One of the things was an inch by four inch piece of foam with a peel-off sticker on the back.  There were five holes along the half-inch thick foam bar and in those holes was something that looked like gauze with a blue string around it.    What was it for and what was in the gauze packets?   I didn't know, but I put them in my bag and waited until I got home.

it turns out the gauze is just that, gauze packets.   The best we can figure out is it's medical-related (there are lots of medical donations to this store—safe things though.)  Were these little nose plugs for bleeding noses?   Was the sticky back so the unit could be stuck on a cabinet for quick access?  No one knows.

I stuck it on the corner of the counter and was going to put it up later tonight.   I haven't yet though because every time I walk by I see it out of the corner of my eye and it reminds me of something.  Before I realize it, I've looked over to see the thing I don't quite remember...and then I lose the connection, because I realize it's the strange foam/sticker/gauze thing.  

I may have to leave it there for another day or two to see if I can figure out what it's reminding me of because it's bugging me now.

The Big Boy Update:  Rescue helicopter.  My son was a rescue helicopter today.  He had a string with a carabiner on the end wrapped around his arm almost all day and he was rescuing things all over the place.  At The Scrap Exchange this morning, he spent about forty-five minutes on a pile of cinder blocks doing I don't know what, but to him, he was rescuing things (rock-type things).   He was so happy playing that we delayed leaving and did extra shopping.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter selected a sucker from a large stack at the drug store today.  She very carefully picked the exact one she wanted.   When I had opened it up for her and she started eating it, I asked her what flavor it was.   She told me, "It's green."

Going Away Party

Some of our close friends are going on the road.   Until just recently, they did the thing almost all of us do: they had a home and they "lived" in one main location.   They've been debating for some time now converting their life into a traveling one.   And now, their departure is imminent.

They've gotten rid of most of their belongings and have purchased a forty-foot rig and truck.   They're moving into the truck and preparing their home to be rented.  Shortly, they're going to drive off and we'll miss seeing them as frequently as we have been able to for the past several years.

Today one of our friends gave them a going away party.   They don't have a specific date for departure yet, but as soon as they can go, they're off.   The husband can work remotely and the mother is an educator, and will be continuing the children's home schooling on the road.

Their children are excited to go.  I'm not sure I would be—leaving everything I've ever know as home and taking a roving trip around the country.   But I'm excited for them.  With the connectivity and social networking we have today, it should be easy to follow their journey on the road and look forward to seeing them when they return for a visit.

The Big Boy Update:  My son likes to give hugs sometimes.  And sometimes, those hugs are not wanted.   I'm not sure if he does this when he's been unkind and wants to feel like he's going to be nice now or if he truly wants to be friendly.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter likes to sit at my husband's computer and look at these little Winnie the Pooh video shorts while he works.   Today she came over and said, "I want to do Mister Pooh."

Fitness Update:  The Electric Run was fun.   It was very little running (the path is too narrow and there are too many people) but it was very electric.   My children ran some and rode on shoulders some and then fell asleep in the loud music for the last third of the race.  

The First Race

My children are in their first race tonight.   They won't really be racing, or even running for that matter, but they're going to be there and we're all going to make a 5K distance as a family.

Last year we did this run called the Electric Run.   There's a lot of EDM (Electronic Dance Music) and the run was accented by areas completely lit up with LEDs, neon colors and flashing lights.   One portion of the run was down a channel of overhanging trees that had been accented by hundreds of white umbrellas.   A light show was being displayed upwards onto them and it looked stunning.

My neighbor and her husband brought three of their girls and a double stroller for up to two to rest at a time.   Their children loved the run.    This year, they're coming back and we're bringing our children too.

My son went with me yesterday to go pick up our race packets.  He wanted to start the race immediately and has been asking if it's time for the race ever since.   We've told them the race doesn't start until it's dark tonight, which will be after their bed times.  

I think they're going to love it.   I wonder how much of it they'll run?

The Big Boy Update:  My son found a small foldable ladder that went with one of his toys yesterday. He's recently been obsessed with, "Heat Wave". a fire truck Transformer from the kid's show he loves.  We got in the car yesterday and I couldn't figure out what he was doing at first.  Then, I realized he was folding the ladder and putting it in the middle of his back before leaning back into the car seat.  He wanted a ladder on his back just like Heatwave has.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter's love affair with Jacob continues.   They're not in the same class this year, but they share the same playground time.   She has told me more than once that she and Jacob held hands during playground time.  Today, when her teacher put her in the car, she told me that every day my daughter comes to find her to tell her, "I found Jacob!"

Fitness Update:  Some days/weeks I just don't want to be in the gym.  Lately, I haven't been minding it at all.  I'm not looking at the clock to see, "how much time do I have to keep doing this", and I've been having fun with the exercises, even when they're challenging and exhausting.   I hope it continues, because it's no fun not wanting to exercise but feeling like you have to.

The Styrofoam Coffee Cup

I worked at IBM for some years.  I started as a co-op when I was nineteen and when I graduated from college I took a position there for a few years.   I moved from there to several consulting companies, but never really escaped working with the IBM product area in which I originally worked.  They were good products and the people at and surrounding IBM were nice to work with.  I have no complaints.

This post is about one person I remember from back in 1990.   He was a consultant, brought in to teach us about this new and exciting technology, Object-Oriented Programming.   Specifically, he was there to teach us all about Smalltalk.   Not the chit chat kind, the powerful programming language of the same name.

We had a cafeteria in the large, two-winged "Software Lab" in which we worked.  It was a beautiful cafeteria.  You ate at tables in a vaulted four-story dining area that looked out onto a large open deck which overlooked a lake.   We sometimes ate in the cafeteria, but more commonly we'd bring our meals or tea and muffin back to our desks and work while we ate.

I noticed one day that that consultant, now my friend, had a styrofoam coffee cup that was stained and looking rather worse for wear.   I asked him about it and he told me he used the same coffee cup multiple times when he went down to get coffee.   The cup was still good he said, why waste another one?

I didn't get green back then and I didn't care about my consumption of natural resources.   Back then the way I recycled was exclusively through landfills.   I didn't get it.

But now I do.   He was way ahead of the rest of us.

The Big Boy Update:  My son asked at breakfast this morning, "do ladybugs turn into flowers?"

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter and son were playing in the bonus room above the garage this afternoon.  I was working on the main floor when suddenly I heard her running down the stairs saying, "daddy's home.  I'm going to go say hi to him in the garage!"   She had heard the garage door open under the floor of the bonus room and she knew what that meant.   I had no idea my husband was home until she told me.

The Round Trip Unstated Agreement

We have two cars in our family.   The first car is great for families with small children and is sometimes referred to as a "minivan".   I love our minivan.   It drives well and makes toting two toddlers around a relatively easy job.   It gets messy (because toddlers are a mess) because that's part of its job.    I've said many times before, but I really don't see a downside to having a minivan.

The second car we have is a Tesla Model S.   It is sexy.  It is smooth.  It is fun to drive and it remains spotless inside because children with sticky hands, full of crumbs in their pockets and mulch in their shoes, aren't allowed in it.   It's a dream to drive.  

On any given day, depending on what the situation is, I might be driving one or the other.   The decision on which car my husband or I leave in is completely and totally dependent on who will be taking or picking up the children.  It's almost always an obvious division of driving.

But later in the day, say after pickup at school, we might all meet for lunch somewhere.   In those cases, one of us arrives with two children and a minivan.  The other one gets to the restaurant in a sleek, black Tesla Model S.  After lunch (or other spot where we've met in two cars) there is never a discussion on who will be driving what car home.   We've never discussed it at the time or at any time.  

It's the unstated rule that you finish your trip in the vehicle you arrived in.  If you have two tired, dirty and screaming children and a minivan after a long day, you will have those two cranky kids all the way home in the minivan at which point the other one of us will sweep in and help do anything needed to get the children into the house and tub to get them un-sticky and into bed.

The person who arrived in style in the Tesla Model S finishes off their drive in quiet comfort, listening to music on a nice sound system, blissfully unaware that there are screaming kids in the car in front of them.  

It's an unspoken agreement we have.   I'm not unhappy about it either.  It works well for us.

The Big Boy Update:  KILL.   My son is saying some very hateful things.   Specifically, he's saying he wants to kill you, or the dog or the sharks or his teacher.   He says it with a lot of vehemence.   We have been very worried about where he got the use of the word from.   Tonight I had a conversation with his teacher because she heard it at school too.   Neither she nor we have an answer, but we're working through it.   I don't think he really understands what it means, but we're helping him find better things to say when he's angry or frustrated.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Sssting Stop.  My daughter has a bad reaction to mosquito and insect bites.   I have something called Sssting Stop I put on her bites that help calm down the histamine reaction and reduce itching.  I didn't realize she knew what the tube looked like until she opened the drawer the other day, exclaimed, "I see the pow pow!" (baby powder) and then came over with the Sssting Stop in her hand, telling me she had a bug bite.

The Loft Bed

Today my children are sleeping in a different arrangement than they've done before.   To go back, first there was the pack-and-play.  It's a wee thing, and it works when the babies are little, tiny, weensie things.   Then, comes the crib.   It is huge.  The baby is lost in that massive crib mattress for quite some time, but since they can't roll over, let alone stand up and jump out, it's okay.

As time goes on, they do learn how to stand up and they're eventually going to jump out, so you have to take steps.  In our case, we converted the front wall of the crib into an almost floor-level height with an opening and dropped the mattress down to match.   This is known as a toddler bed.   It's as close to sleeping on the floor as you can get and still be in a bed.

My children have had toddler beds for some time now and those once gargantuan mattresses now look barely large enough for their bodies.    So once again, things had to happen.   We were pondering bunk beds, but at not-quite-three and not-quite-four, we questioned if my children were really old enough for that top bunk portion.  

I mentioned this to my friend and she said, "what you need is a loft bed and you're in luck, I have one and I'm getting rid of it."   This loft bed thing is like bunk beds, only the top level is only up to my chest and the bottom level is a mattress on the floor.   The mattress size though is a full twin.  I had to see this thing because I couldn't picture it, but once I did, I had decided...we needed this thing.

My husband, also, wasn't so sure, but he was willing to go along with me and see what it looked like. He brought it home from their house several days ago and I put it together in the garage to let him see what he thought.   Then we were both sold.

When my children saw it they were ready for it to immediately be in their bedroom and as my son said, "I want it to be bedtime right now."  Since he said this at two o'clock in the afternoon, I knew we were on to something.

This afternoon was rearrangement day.   We put the toddler beds into storage, where they'll stay until they're brought out and converted into their final stage, a full bed, sometime in the future.   The loft bed was brought upstairs and set up with mattresses, waterproof mattress covers and sheets.   Then there was the discussion on who would be on the top bunk.   We decided it should be my son because he's older.   It was rather arbitrary, because I think either child would have been fine up there.

My daughter gets to sleep in a fun "cave" at the bottom.   We put them to sleep tonight and I stuck a glow stick between the slats for her to look at as she went to sleep.   My son was very pleased about his top bunk.

Oh, and those twin mattresses?  They make my children look tiny all over again.

The Big Boy Update:  We got in the car this afternoon and my son was saying something I couldn't understand.   I had to ask him three times and when I realized what he was saying, I understood why I was confused.  He was saying, "I want to see the map", asking for the display on the center console to be changed to the navigation option.   Since my son can't drive a car and doesn't understand GPS, I wasn't expecting him to want to navigate us to Mimi and Gramp's house.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   My daughter got very excited while we were in the car sitting at a stop light yesterday.  She cried out, "look, look, look, look, look, look!"   We said, "what is it?" expecting something both interesting and exciting.   "It's a pole" she said.

The Dessert Domino Effect

I had to make a lot of dessert on Sunday.   It was one of those things that got started and didn't want to stop.   It was all the fault of two eggs in my refrigerator.

I had some cream and half-and-half left and I wanted to make one more batch of ice cream before the summer season was over.   Hey, I've got two eggs.  I heard there were eggs in frozen custard, maybe I'll make that.   I looked up the recipe and was surprised at the need for not two, but eight egg yolks.    So I decided to forget the custard.

After lunch I took my children to the grocery store to buy, "Snack Duty" items as it was my daughter's turn for her class that week.   I needed two dozen eggs among other things.   When I got to the egg cooler, I saw a thirty-count container of eggs.  It was the most economical of all the options...and there were six extra eggs.

That's right, there were six eggs to go with my two eggs and that meant I was making frozen custard when I got home.   Groceries in the cupboard, and I had cream and half-and-half in a saucepan, eggs separated into yolk and whites and then yolks beaten with sugar and vanilla.  Next I tempered the yellow bowl with the now-hot cream bowl.    Back onto the stove for some thickening and then into the refrigerator for some chilling before the eventual freezing and then the final step of eating.    It was fun.  It was not like most ice creams I've made before because ice cream is usually frozen and not cooked...twice.

Did I mention the helpfulness of my daughter, who never left my side the entire time?  She insists on helping you in the kitchen, especially when you don't need help.   She listens though and is careful, so it's nice to have her around.

The custard was not chilling in the refrigerator and I turned my attention to the eight egg whites.   I didn't want to throw them away because that seemed just sad.   So I decided to make merengue cookies.   Out comes the mixer, sugar, cream of tartar and the whipping of the egg whites commenced.   Hold on one minute, I have some of those tiny peppermint chips my mother-in-law gave me at Christmas for ice cream.   I wonder how they'd fare in the meringues?

They fared well.   Very well.   So by the end of Sunday I had two dozen sugary cookies I didn't need and a batch of exceptionally delicious, calorie-laden frozen custard in my freezer.    I'm going to have to make new friends to get rid of it before I eat it all.

It was the egg's fault.

The Big Boy Update:   We went to dinner with my parents tonight.   I had one lengthy "discussion" with my son (or perhaps I mean discipline incident) which seemed to put him in a great state of mind for the rest of the day.   He played well with his sister and was a model three-year-old at dinner out tonight.    I was very proud of him.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter drew a picture on a post-it note yesterday.  She ran over to me to show me her scribbles exclaiming, "look what I draw!  It's a picture of my family.  I made if for Olivia."

Fitness Update:  I sometimes wear sleeveless workout shirt-things when I go to the gym.   Sometimes when this happens our trainer has us do arms work.  Sometimes that arms work is in front of this big mirror that runs along one section of the gym.   I never in my life thought I'd have arm muscles, but the mirror says I do.

That Long List

Topic overload once again, so here are some items in shortened, blog-ette form...

Red Shoes: 

Last night I went to our school's back to school social.  As a trustee and a chronic volunteer, I had many responsibilities at the event, mostly social things such as finding and meeting our new families and talking about some of the programs our school offers that are helpful to new parents.   I got a new dress that was boring and grey.  It was a sweatshirt material, only done very nicely and in a tailored dress style.   Then, I got these very stylish red leather shoes to go with it.   The two looked great together and I was willing to suffer through the heels for the night to look fabulous.   I can't tell you how many people talked about my shoes.  People loved them.   They liked the dress too, but the shoe comments went on and on.   I told my husband at least ten people mentioned them.   But, did one person even notice my much darkened hair?   No one even noticed.    Next time, maybe I'll get brown shoes and dye my hair fire engine red.

Toilet Paper Roll Stop:

I run into this every so often and I always silently curse the inventor of this contraption.   Do you know those toilet paper roll holders where there is a catch so that the paper roll will only go one rotation before it stops and you have to manually flip the paper around and then unroll again if you need more paper?   I understand it's to conserve paper, but if you're going to do that, don't use the see-through, single-ply paper...please?

My Job Title:

I have a new job title.   Terms I've used in the past include saying I don't have a "real job", saying I'm a "stay at home mom" or a "home maker".  I might also mention I do a lot of "volunteer work".   But none of those titles or job descriptions are satisfactory to me.   I don't like saying, "I used to do real work, but now I'm at home with the children."   Anyone who has children knows it can be more challenging, more frustrating, more tiring and more stressful than many "real jobs".  But I still didn't like the names for this very rewarding and exhausting job.    I have happened on what I think is the best way to describe everything I do, be it volunteering for the school, being a mom managing our household.   Now I just say I'm "not working for income".    Sums it all up nicely.   It is work.  Only no one is paying me to do it.  

In The Eyes of a Child:

On the first day of school a few weeks ago, one of the older students in our school ran up to me and gave me a hug.   I was excited about school starting, watching my two head off to their new classroom with the older children.   But that hug made my day.   The student happened to be the daughter of my son's teacher for the last two years, but that's not why she hugged me.    She hugged me because we had a special connection from when I substituted during the past year.  During that time we found out we both loved Doctor Who.    Loved it.   So every time we see each other we always talk about what's happened on episode such and such and which doctor is our favorite and how the aliens were so scary, etc.   In her eyes, I am cool.   And there his nothing nicer than knowing a child thinks you're cool.

The Adult Store Tour:

I was in the car the other day when I drove by a local "adult store" and had a flash back from more than twenty years ago.   I was a co-op, working at IBM with many other co-ops from all over the country.   I don't remember why, but Jeff Sunquist (I remember his name, how strange) wanted to go to one of the adult stores for something.  It might have been to get a joke gift for a friend, but I don't really remember.   I said I knew where a store was and they'd just opened and I'd take him there.   We got there with a third friend and went in.   I'm not particularly shy, so I said hello to the guy behind the counter while my two friends silently and quietly went through the aisles.   The guy turned out to be the manager and he was really excited about the layout of his new store.   He came out from behind the counter and proceeded to show me around, explaining how the magazines were sorted (current month on the top row, older months on lower shelves).  He showed me their leather and bondage section, pointing out the high-quality of their products.  He was getting to the next section when my two friends slinked over to stand near me.   I don't remember them saying anything the entire time.   I don't remember if anyone bought anything.   I just remember that manager being so happy about all his merchandise and wanting to talk about it.

The Big Boy Update:  Kids think literally.  This is one of my favorite literal translations my son has ever done.   We were almost home and I asked him if he knew where we were.  I told him we were in our neighborhood.   He said, "This is our neighborsky.   It doesn't have a hood to cover our house.  It's everybody's neighborsky."   I think I like the word "neighborsky" better than neighborhood so I'm calling it that now. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter was pleased she was a member of the clean plate club the other day.   I asked her if she'd like more of <something she wanted more of> and put it on her plate.   She immediately cried out, "oh no, oh no, I'm not the member of the clean plate club!" 

Fitness Update:  My neighbor has been at the hospital working all weekend.   She called me this morning telling me that while she's only slept one hour, she isn't that tired and would I like to go running.   I missed the call because I was making fattening ice cream and didn't hear the phone ring over the machine noise.   Her message was in that voice she has when she's exhausted and can't quite come up with the next word in the sentence and therefore has these little minor pauses in her speech.   It was my non-medical opinion that sleep would be more beneficial to her than running, and when I called her back I told her so as I left her a message.  I'm hoping she was asleep by then.  

Where Did the Mail Go?

I'd had something happen several times with my email.  The first time or two I thought it was a mistake, but more recently, I was certain I wasn't making the same error over and over so I took a note to look into it.   What I found was interesting.

I manage my email in three locations: my iPhone, my iPad and my computer.   The phone and tablet are convenience locations, meaning that I can read and if need be, reply to the emails from those locations.    My main location for handling anything and everything else is my computer.   My computer is also where I keep copies of everything.

Like most people, I have several email accounts.   One, my main email address, I've had for a long long time.   I have two gmail addresses that I use for various other purposes, and I have an email address with my children's school for any work I do as a trustee.  

The general process I go through during any given day involves checking email from time to time, as time permits.   I do a quick response if appropriate from those devices and then delete the email from my phone or tablet inbox, knowing I'll file the copy of all emails on my computer later.    I can usually go through all my emails, respond and delete everything quickly during the day.  

When I get to my computer at night, I file all the emails and take care of anything I haven't handled during the day on my devices.   What had been happening though was that days later, I'd realize that email I must have read on my phone that I meant to add to the board minutes, wasn't in my inbox...and I'd forgotten about it.  

Did I accidentally delete it?   I'd search the trash folder and sure enough, there it was.   Strange.   I'd file the email and then do the thing I should have done and had forgotten because my mental trigger of the email sitting in my inbox wasn't happening.

That scenario happened enough that I wondered what was going on.   I took a note to look into it and happened to mention it to my husband during our drive to get the children at lunch.   He said to me, "does the school happen to use gmail as their mail service?"   I told him they did.  He told me that gmail mail tries to keep all inboxes in sync, so when I had deleted the message on my phone, it was getting deleted on my inbox on my computer and iPad as well.

I am so glad I mentioned it to him, because he was spot on correct.   I got home that afternoon and send myself an email from one, non-gmail account to another gmail-based account and watched both emails show up in my inbox on the computer.   Then, I deleted the gmail one on my phone and watched as it disappeared from my computer's inbox.

Mystery solved.

The Big Boy Update:   We went to soccer class today.  I'm going to sign the children up because they both had such a good time.   My son did very well.  He listened, did what they asked and had very good control of the soccer ball.    I was really impressed.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   Finger friends.   My daughter was talking to her fingers the other day.   She had some game going on and each finger was a person or entity of some sort.  It was quite cute.   She was very happy having her own little conversation with her finger friends.

Sand Box, Paper Cones, Ball Pyramid and Light Hooks

These are all things my children enjoyed today.   They enjoyed these things even though those weren't the things we wanted them to enjoy.    We took them to a, "special place" to give them a "lesson" in something we thought they'd find fun...the to the golf course.

My kids like to whack things and they have these little golf clubs that we're forever telling them not to whack things with.   My husband got them a new set of three clubs that look like real clubs and my son had been talking about golf.   We thought this could be a nice afternoon event.

And it wasn't a bad day.   My kids had a great time, they just had a great time doing things other than playing golf.   My daughter was very interested in the paper cone cups and the water machine beside the driving range.    My son thought filling up a paper cup and throwing it at his sister was loads of fun.  

The driving range was exciting, although that was mostly due to the pyramids of golf balls they enjoyed playing with.   They were very interested in the big machine that was eating the golf balls at the driving range.

We got them over to the putting practice area, but they didn't make it all the way there because there was a large night lamp structure on wheels.   This thing had...wait for it...big hooks on chains that my son thought was quite possibly the most exciting thing on the whole golf course.     Getting them to the grass where there were boring white balls rolling around was a feat of distraction.

Once on the putting practice area, my son noticed a great big sand box.    This thing was huge and he needed to be in it, especially when he realized there was a rake he could drag around in the, "sand trap".

We had to end the day when first, we were running out of time and second, when my son fell on some fire ants and got his arm bitten up.  

Overall though, they had a good time.   Next time, maybe they'll even hit a few balls.

The Big Boy Update:  "Fire bugs."  Daddy told my son that Papa got bitten by fire ants all the time.   Tonight, Papa called on the phone and my son remembered and he wanted to tell Papa all about the sand pit and the "fire bugs" (as he likes to call them).   Papa listened to his entire story and told my son he understood completely.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  The 'mama...mama' doll.  Have you seen dolls in movies or television shows that say, "mama...mama"?  Usually, it's annoying and rather creepy.   Frequently, it's in a horror movie.    My daughter does that, "mama...mama" thing all the time now and it is just as annoying and creepy.   Now I understand why those dolls are so ominous.

Fitness Update:   My trainer is making sure I don't do things that will exacerbate my neck.   It's frustrating, but it is helping.   It's calming down more and more, so something in all the things I'm doing and not doing must be working.

T6.0

Something happened today that I've never experienced before.   I've experienced similar things, but not this.   We were anticipating it.   We were hoping for it.   It was going to be cool.    And today, this afternoon specifically, it happened.

It's a software thing.   I've worked my whole career—aside from the mom-based, non-technical part of my life—in software.   For example, you might have Windows 3.1 today, but soon, you're looking forward to Windows NT. You want those cool new features that are rumored, but you have to wait until it's released.

More recently, smart phones and tablets are the, "I can't wait for iOS 17.22 because it's going to let me send blurbles to my friends with only a single clickoid!"  Or something like that.   It's true though, we hang on the rumors and look forward to the press conferences in which they announce all the great features.

Then, the update arrives.   For my phone or tablet, the device tells me there's a new software update and if I'd like to press this virtual button and wait for a bit, it will be installed and I can begin using all the newest features and complaining or praising them as I see fit on the internet and to my friends.

What's never happened until today was having my car tell me it had a software update, and if I'd like to press this virtual button (with the understanding that the car wouldn't be drivable for forty-five minutes) the update would be applied.  

Well HELL YES I would like to press the virtual button on the car's touch screen and spend the next forty-five minutes reading online about the features that had actually arrived in that update, as opposed to the rumored features we'd been hearing about for the past several months.

When the update was done, my husband and I sat in the car in the garage and read all about the new features.   We can turn on the car from a phone now, in the case we don't have a key with us.   It's not a replacement for having a key, but you can do it if you find yourself without your key.   And that is cool.  

It syncs with my phone's calendar and if I have calendar entries with addresses on them, I can click the entry and it will navigate me there.   And—and I think this may be the coolest of all—it has a feedback and bug reporting system so you can send Tesla Motors any ideas, bugs or suggestions you may have just by speaking to the car.

I love my Tesla, now with it's T6.0 operating system.

The Big Boy Update:  Poo...ewwww!   It was bedtime.  My husband took the children up to read them their favorite story when I heard him call me up, saying we had a problem and I needed to come right now.   The problem turned out to be a large smear of poop on their bedroom carpet.   There had been attempts at cleaning it up, but they only made it worse.   My son admitted it was him, saying he had tried to fix it and had put the, "cleaning things" in the trash can in the bathroom.   He had.   He had really tried.     Now, past bedtime, my children are watching my husband and me use the carpet cleaner on the large spot on the floor.    It took us longer than anticipated because one of the covers was missing on the unit and while water and detergent were going into the carpet, nothing was coming out.   Once we got it working, the carpet cleaned right up.   We told my son everyone has accidents, and could he just (please) tell us next time.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  "Is your favorite"  My daughter uses those words a lot.   I am fairly sure we and many other people in her life are misusing and overusing that phrase because she uses it when what she really means is, "like".  

Fall Color

Have you ever noticed how something that's a dramatic change to you may be something other people don't even notice?   I remember when I was young and I got new white shoes.   They were so bright and white they seemed to make my feet stand out and shout to everyone, "hey, look at me, I'm new."    No one seemed to really notice though.

A example would be fingernail polish color.  If I have clear polish on (which I have done a lot of of late) I don't even notice my nails.   If I change that color to a dark eggplant color, I notice my fingers all day long for at least a day until the color gets integrated into the hand map in my brain.   In reverse, if I change from bright green back to clear, I notice the absence of color for a while as well.

But this isn't about fingernails or tennis shoes (I've never played tennis, but that's how I've always referred to athletic shoes).   Instead, this post is about hair.

I've highlighted my hair for years.   Adding two or three different colors in small amounts to add accent an lightness to my hair suits me.   To be clear, I have someone who knows what they're doing highlight my hair.   I would only bungle up the job.   Highlighted hair looks bread, but it's burden as well.   When it grows out (even with my slow-growing hair) it's noticeable and it has to be maintained.

Over the summer months I highlighted it one step lighter than I normally do.   People noticed it, or rather noticed that I looked different or that I looked "good" that day.   No one said, "hey, you added one lighter level of highlights to your hair, didn't you?"  But there seemed to be something people could tell was different about me.

That extra level of lightness annoyed me.   Yes, I loved it the week I got it done, but the demarcation line as it grew out bothered me.   So, I decided to set it back to zero, or at least closer to zero than it's been for a long time.

My hairstylist dyed all the hair a color that closely matched my hair color.   That was fun.  I haven't had my hair completely colored in, well, honestly I don't remember ever doing it.   I asked her questions about what she was doing because she had a different solution for the un-highlighted hair at the roots and the highlighted sections.  

When that was done we agreed, it was a good color.   But I wanted to add a bit of fall feel to the color, knowing the color she'd just completed was going to fade some.   This was going to happen because those highlighted strands were going to become lighter over time.   So, she added in a low-light and darkened some of my hair a bit from my natural color.

What's interesting is while this is a dramatic departure in color from what I had this morning to me, people aren't seeming to notice it.   My husband did—and for that, I'm proud of him.    None of our friends at dinner said anything and our friends in the neighborhood that I saw outside this afternoon didn't say anything either (and these were ladies, who usually notice hair-type things.)

I like the new color, but I predict when spring comes around I'm going to add some highlights back in.

The Big Boy Update:  My son was very excited about the new children's kitchen appliance set my husband got them at Costco today.   He and his sister played with the coffee maker, the blender and mixer, all of which worked with colored water and mimicked the things adult appliances do.    He and his sister played with them for close to two hours happily together.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   My daughter's was in the kitchen today when I heard her go running off to the bathroom, saying to herself, "hold it, hold it".   That's what we tell them when they need to go potty and are in jeopardy of losing it.   She was telling herself the same advice.   She almost made it too.

1000

I find this rather hard to believe, but this is my thousandth post.  That means I've sat down at this desk—or other desk-type location—and typed up something bouncing around in my head, and I've been doing that every day for several years.  

I rarely go back and read what I've written, but I thought it might be interesting to see what I was thinking about two years ago, so several days I went back two years to check.   It was singular that the post I went back to read was about writing blog posts.  On September 6th, 2012 I wrote about a phenomenon I'd noticed with my blog writing: if I talked about what I was going to write about that day, I lost enthusiasm for the idea and usually ended up writing about something else.    

Since that point, I usually don't talk about what I'm planning on writing that day.   With rare exception, that's how my blogging mind works.   Some days I'll have multiple topics occur to me, based on something that's happened that day, something I remember from my past or something that's happened to my children.    Oh, or I write a poem.   I think I only did that once.   I'm not much of a poet. 

The Big Boy Update:  My son's allergies are much better than they were two years ago.   Some of them persist though.  Peanuts will make him itchy and he mostly avoids them.   It seems he still has a fish allergy though as one bite of tilapia made his mouth visibly red.    We're going to have to wait a little longer to introduce fish it seems.  

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter helps to feed the dog.   She loves to do this job.  She likes to watch the dog eat, getting right in the dog's way.   Sometimes she only pays out bits of food into the bowl so the fun will go on for longer.   My dog tolerates this.   Yesterday I found my daughter feeing my dog dinner at one o'clock in the afternoon.  We had a discussion about not feeding the dog until mom or dad asked you to.   

Fitness Update:  Our trainer said he was going to kill our legs (and in the process make our glutes look fabulous) until my shoulder is better.    He lived up to his word today on the killing part.    

It's Raining, It's Pouring

Well, it's not exactly pouring.   But it has been raining all day.   It was a cool early summer and a pleasant middle-summer and then the summer decided to end with a big, humid bash over the last several weeks.   Today though, it was nice and cool.

It was calmly raining this morning and sixty-nine degrees.   I told my children they could wear their rain boots to school, expecting them to be thrilled.  For some time, they would want to wear them to school when there was no reason to wear them.   Today, they really didn't care though.

I told them they could wear their new halloween-themed outfits to school too, expecting them to be excited.   They were someone interested.   My daughter looked cute in her long-sleeved pumpkin dress and my son, after putting it on, was pretty happy about his bat shirt.

It rainy mildly for most of the day, putting me in one of those, "I just want to stay inside all day" moods.   When we picked the children up after school, we came home and we did just that—stayed in all day.

It's growing dark now and it's still raining.   I like the rain.   I'm rather looking forward to fall.

The Big Boy Update:  My son got mad at me today for something I did to help him.   That's not uncommon.   What was unexpected was his response; he came into the room and told me he was going to hit me (I had shut the door to a room and he didn't want the door shut).   He made punching motions at me and I warned him that it was never okay to hit someone.    Then, he suddenly punched me in the face...hard.   You should have seen me snap.   It wasn't good for him or me.   He was spanked and hauled into his bedroom.  He was crying and mad as hell.  I was madder.    I put him in his bed and told him to stay there.   He climbed out.  I put him back.    We had a rather loud discussion for about two minutes and then it was over.   He was completely calm and he wanted me to give him a kiss (he said he didn't want a hug, he wanted some kisses.)   We talked about not hitting and then he and I had one of the most pleasant afternoons together we've had in a long time.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   My mother-in-law nicknamed my dog, "Ever So Hopeful" because she waits for things to drop while you're cooking in the kitchen.   Today, I nicknamed my daughter, "Ever So Helpful" because every time you're in the kitchen cooking, she's got her stool, following you around, wanting to help.

Self-Management

At first your infant can't do anything.  Not a single thing.   Okay, they can eat, sleep, cry and make glorious messes in their diapers.   But that's about it.    As they get older they iterate through layers of independence, ending ultimately in taking care of their own parents who have lost their own independence due to age.

Today was one of those independence milestones.   My son, out of the blue, said, "I want to go to Chuck E. Cheese!"   We've been there before, I think twice.  But it's been a good long time and I have no idea how he remembered the place or the name.  (Toddler memory is both astounding and confounding.)   I was looking for something to do this afternoon since our pool has been closed due to a downed phone line.  I said, "what a great idea.  Let's all go to Chuck E. Cheese for lunch!"   This was met with cries of happiness and an almost uncanny willingness to go to the potty, find and put on shoes by my children.

When we arrived I ordered food and this time, I didn't worry about them wandering off.   They stamp parent and children with a hand stamp there and you can't leave without your matching stamped parent.   So I let them run off and I calmly got our drinks, selected our usual table and prepared everything for our food to arrive.    Then I went to look for them.

All games and rides take one single token.  Some came with our meal.  I gave my children one each and watched as I made sure they knew how to insert them into the machines.   They spent quite some time on a car with a steering wheel that lurched back and forth while they did a dreadful job of picking up the coins and fruit on the screen in front of them.

Our food arrived and I called them over.   They ate some and then ran off again to play in the play structure.  I checked email and looked up after a few minutes to see if they were okay.  I noticed they'd taken their shoes off as required and were still in the tube and slide play area.

In a while they came back and ate some more.  I asked them if they wanted more coins.  I showed my son how he could put one in his pocket and hold one in his hand.   He liked that.   They went off and drove Bob the Builder's truck for a while and then came back with two tickets and a printout of some child's picture from another ride.  

This went on for a good while: eating, climbing in the play structure, asking for a coin, coming back and telling me something that happened.   I checked on them fairly regularly but they were having fun and managing things all by themselves.

We were there for nearly three hours.   I lured them out with the promise of a "prize" with their meager collection of tickets.  (The prize counter was at the front, near the exit.)   It was a lot of fun for them.  I liked watching them be independent.

The Big Boy Update:   With my son's recent rigidity issues, we have a place he can go to help him become calm.   I decided to remove the child protective door knob on the closet in their bedroom.   There are clothes in there and a lot of books, but otherwise, it's just a walk-in closet that's carpeted.   He can sit on the floor and pull books off the shelf, looking at the pictures.   He likes to do this.  It is almost always calming.   I called it his, "safe place" when I took him there the first time but he immediately renamed it and said, "this is my quiet place. I can be loud out there."  We'll see how it works out and if it helps over time.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter likes the word "dinosaur".  She repeated for no apparent reason for several days.  Now, if you say "dinosaur" to her, she will almost always smile and repeat it back to you.

Fitness Update:  I ran ten miles today.  After the bonking of last weekend I was worried, so I ate a second dinner before bed and when I woke up at four in the morning, I ate two breakfast bars and drank something to hydrate myself.   Before running out the door I drank a Gatorade.   I was fine.   I'm glad I didn't forget how to run.

The Free Sale

We didn't have a yard sale today, we had a free sale.   It's a lot like a yard sale, only everything is free.   Come to our house at eight AM and if it's in our driveway, feel free to take it.   No, please, don't make me bring all this stuff back into the house.   You know you need my old, used stuff.   It's yours.

It all started with one of my, "how did we get so many toys?" comments.   Then, I decided we were not only going to rearrange the children's toys (putting some up and bringing others out as "new").   This time, we were going to go through every single last bit of stuff and we were going to get rid of things.  Lots of things, because we had more than the children needed.

My husband helps me with these things, and he does a good job, but it's not his favorite thing to do.   When I told him we were taking every single toy, game and kid thing and putting it into one room in our house to evaluate, I know he mentally gave me an evil eye.   But he helped.  When we saw how much stuff we really had, my husband said, "we need to get rid of fifty-percent of these toys."

We decided what to keep because it was still age-relavant and what to keep because it was sentimental to us or them as they grew.   We selected things to keep that were some of the best toys for younger ages in case we had visiting babies or toddlers.   The relevant things went to various corners of the house where the children have their toy areas (toys have homes and do not belong all over the house).    We took the other items and stored them in the attic appropriately.  

And we selected things to go.   Lots of things to go.   Thank goodness we have that extra bay in the garage because there were lots of things heading into the garage.   As we went into the attic, we made decisions about not-toy things that we didn't need either.  Bottles?  A must go.  Boppy pillow?  Bumbo seat?  Infant car seat?   They all got put in the growing mound in the garage.   And that's when I had the idea—let's have a free sale.

We have many, many parents with lots of small children in our neighborhood.  We also have lots of pregnant moms.   Wouldn't it be great if we could share out things with our neighborhood friends and neighbors?   So I sent out an email to everyone.

Today was our free sale.  I offered a, "free helium balloon to any child that takes home a stuffed animal," in the hopes we'd her rid of some of that pile.  Few stuffed animals went home, but lots of balloons did with smiling children.

We had multiple pregnant mothers who were grateful for the pregnancy, infant and baby things we had to share.    We had two non-functioning slot machines my neighbor gladly took off our hands and one mom who wanted to get back into shape that claimed our treadmill.     So many things going to happy families.  

Oh, and I forgot to mention my husband's idea.  He suggested I say any donations would go to our children's school.   We had a jar out and there was quite a bit of money put into it from generous families.    

Several people said they'd love to do this too in the future.   I think we're going to plan a neighborhood free sale day at some point next year.  What a fun sight that would be...free stuff in every driveway.

The Big Boy Update:  My son has been having some adjustment issues with his new school classroom and routine.  He's holding it together at school and doing well, but when he gets home, he has a need for routine, regularity and known expectations.    My husband and I are not ones for routine and regularity.   We are reasonably regular, but we don't do dinner at the exact same time each day.  We might go out to dinner to any number of restaurants or eat in.   There may be playing in the yard with neighbors before or after dinner or it might be reading books or playing a game or watching television.  We vary.   My son needs "regular" and not "random" right now and his reaction is to try and control everything and everyone.   To the outsider or untrained, it seems like he's losing his mind and throwing tantrums.   Hell, it looks like that way to us too.   We're trying to help him through this tough time.  We appreciate all the advice we've been given from his teachers and our friends with knowledge about childhood development.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   This is a pattern that happens in our house a lot...  My daughter begins crying, screaming or both a room or two over.   My husband or I come into the room and say, "Reese, what happened?"  My daughter replies, "Greyson <insert thing he did that made her angry or hurt her>".   We're trying to break the cycle on our end and theirs.   From talking to other parents, this may be something we're working on for some time.

Fall Cleaning

Some people get struck with spring cleaning fever.  I get stuck with fall cleaning frenzy.  Actually, I get plagued by both. I like to clean things up and out.  It's amazing how many things it's possible to accumulate, even when you're not trying.

My husband and I decided it was time to get rid of lots of the children's toys they had outgrown.   We went through every single toy, infant and toddler item we had, deciding what to keep and what to share with others.

My husband had a target of 50% reduction of stuff.  I don't think we met that number, but we have a lot less clutter now.  We kept things that were important to us or items we might have use for if someone visited with a younger child, but for the most part, if we no longer needed it, it got put in the big share pile.

All the toys we picked out we're easily added to the stack by us, the adults.  The children, having not seen the baby rattle or sorting blocks or other items in some time, immediately had to play with them all. 

The Big Boy Update:  My son said to me today, "This is not a circle. It's round. Some of them are pointy sides".

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter has learned how to change the toilet paper roll. She knows where the replacement rolls are and she knows the used roll goes in the trash. Only, sometimes she likes to change the roll when the current roll is still full.

The Horrors

I received a Facebook friend request from someone I hadn't had any contact with in over fifteen years.   It took a bit to place him specifically, although I knew it was from the company I used to work with.   But after we had swapped some messages on Facebook it all came back.   He worked as a consultant for my company and travelled to do work projects all over the United States.   Only, he didn't live in the United States, he lived in New Zealand.

He also reminded me of his work partner in New Zealand that I had also worked with during that time.  I had gone on a consulting assignment to work with the New Zealand Police Department to them with some software development issues they had.  This was around 1998 and before I started with that project, I stopped in to work with these two guys from our company, Heath and Darren, for a few days.

We had a great week getting some things done.   When we weren't working, we were going out to dinner and bars and having an all around good time as work buddies.   I have some specific memories from that trip, including some things I saw that we didn't have in the United States yet, but I had hopes they would come soon.

The first was something called a "Reverse Mortgage".   Darren and his wife had one.   The mortgage on their home was rolled into their bank account's overall balance.   That means that if you owed $100,000 on your home and had your salary check of $2,000 deposited into your account, your total balance would show as  $-98,000.  The idea was that before you spent that $2,000, your daily interest calculation on the house would be for less than the $100,000 resulting in taking less time to pay off the balance.   It also encouraged you to pay off the loan sooner (or it could cause you to spend more if you had a credit limit and poor spending habits).

They told me it was an attractive option for older, retired people who had lots of equity in their homes with little to no income.  Over time, they could spend equity in their homes if needed, instead of dying and giving a paid-off house to their heirs.  

I still haven't seen that type of loan here in the United States, but the next three things I have seen.  The first is larger ketchup and condiment packets.  Instead of getting lots of small packets of ketchup, you got one large one with your meal.  You could open it in such a way that it would squirt out without getting your hands messy.   Many fast food restaurants now have larger packets of ketchup that you can either open and dip into or open a second way and squeeze onto something.

The second thing that is becoming more prevalent is the "big flush, little flush" toilets.   I'd never seen them back in 1998 but it made good sense.  Liquids only?  Use the small flush button.   Need more flushing power?  Use the big flush option.

The one that surprised me the most because it took so long to catch on here was something they were calling EFTPOS.   They pronounced it as though it was an acronym.   This was the latest—everyone was doing it.  If you didn't have it you might loose customers.    It stood for Electronic Funds Transfer Point of Sale.   We went to a bar and everyone ordered drinks.  You got your drink, they held up an electronic keypad on a cord, you swiped your card and entered your PIN.   Drink paid for...that easy.

It was years later that machines started showing up on the customer's side of the counter where you could pay yourself.   Today I don't think it's as prevalent here as it was in New Zealand back in 1998. Maybe credit card fees are too high here or there's some other barrier to making it more ubiquitous.

The final thing I remember is my associate Darren and his wife.   I don't remember her name or their son's name but I know their daughter was named Baley.   Darren and his wife loved their three- and five-year-old children, but they had a nick name for them that would make you think otherwise.   They called them, "The Horrors".   It was said so lovingly that you knew they were joking, but it was funny still.   Every now and then, I call my children, "the horrors" and think of Darren and Heath and my trip to New Zealand.

The Big Boy Update:  I got some information about what my son is doing at school today—and I got it from the most unlikely of places...my son.   He doesn't like to talk about what he has done, he likes to tell you what he is currently doing.   Today he told me he worked with button frames and cylinders.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter is not aware that she has two teachers (from what I can tell). She is infatuated with her teacher, Susan.   When Anne, the other teacher, put her in the car yesterday I told her Reese was in love with Susan.   Anne said, "well, aren't we all!"   Both Anne and Susan are great.

Fitness Update:   I did a twenty-minute workout on the Xbox today.  Uncle Jonathan told me the new Xbox fitness was really impressive.   I was beat after twenty minutes.  I'm not sure how Uncle Jonathan did two twenty-minute sessions in a row.