Meaty Chunks

Eighteen

2011-05-07T14:45:00.001-05:00

I realize I'm not the first mother in the world to marvel at how the passage of time can turn this:

into this:

A sentient, capable, independent being who can do anything you can do, only messier.

Who thinks babies who lie around all day like this:

are wasting their time.

Because they could be doing this:

Or this

Or this.

See how he's stealing the pizza from someone else's plate? That's my boy!

As a full-fledged toddler, Miles' daily agenda includes playing in the toilet, eating the dog's food, emptying cupboards, and smashing electronics. He also makes time for building (and demolishing) block towers, pulling Grace's (and the dog's) hair, and raiding (and hiding) Sam's legos.

This child has a taste for mischief. He's not malicious, he just wants to have a good time and get a big reaction. At home, one of his favorite ways to do that is to climb high and fast, preferably with a sharp and/or heavy object. Sewing shears on the computer desk are a favorite, but he'll settle for knives on the kitchen counter, or a glass vase on the stairs. He's also fond of straight pins, seam rippers, and the iron. (Basically anything from my craft table will do.)

But his troublemaking is not confined to the home-front. Take the time two weeks ago, when he ran away after church. As always, he attended class with me. As always, I let him wander the rows soliciting candy from adults and stealing toys from children. (I intercede when he threatens to damage AV equipment or pound on the piano, but otherwise I just keep an eye on him while he wanders.) You know where this is going, don't you? Sometime after the final "amen," while I was gathering my things and chatting with a friend, he slipped out the door without me noticing. While chatting, I began looking around the room for him -- behind the piano, under the chairs. When I didn't find him, I said a quick goodbye, and checked the hallway. I didn't see him, and neither had my friend who'd been standing in the hall, so I went back into the classroom to check again. After another quick search under chairs, behind the blackboard, and around the ankles of church members, I circled the building. By this time all of the other classes had let out, so the halls were filling quickly. I expected to see him dodging through the crowd, or hear someone call out, "He's over here." But I didn't. And that's when the panic set in.

What was I afraid of? I can't say exactly. I could have been worried that he'd open the exterior door and wander out to the busy street. Or that he'd be snatched by our ward's convicted sex offender (not an official calling, but lots of wards have them). Or he could have wandered into a dark closet or cupboard and gotten himself stuck. Mostly I just kept thinking, "I can't believe I lost him. What kind of mother loses her kid at church?"

I started circling in indecision --literal circles-- heading in one direction and then immediately changing my mind and heading the other way, afraid I'd miss him if I chose wrong. After turning around twice, I realized I needed help.

It's one thing to think you've lost your kid, but it's another to say the words out-loud. "I can't find Miles," I told a friend. My voice caught, and the tears started, and what might have been a calm and orderly search became a bit frenzied. Kind friends who saw my panic joined in, and before I reached the next turn in the hall I heard the question spreading: "Have you seen Miles?"

In the end, all I had to do was take the next turn in the hall. Just around the corner, I found him in the arms of his friend (and mine), Margaret. Apparently, he'd gone to visit her on the other side of the building. He was happy to see me, but no more than usual. What's five minutes to an adventurous toddler? Five lifetimes to a worried mother, that's what.

In the van, with all three children safely strapped in, I started to process it all. For a moment I actually thought, "As fearless as he is, it's a marvel I haven't lost him before. Maybe I'm not such a bad mom after all." Only then did I remember this wasn't the first time.

The real first time was a couple months ago at a hotel in Erie, PA. We met some friends there to enjoy the indoor waterpark. After breakfast, the adults were packing things up before heading down for a day of fun. The children were playing in the living room/kitchenette area in the middle of our shared suite. There was a knock at the door, and a stranger asked if we were missing a child. "I don't think so," I answered, and did a quick visual sweep of the room. And then I saw behind the stranger, another stranger holding Miles' hand as he toddled down the hall toward us. He was ready for the day, wearing his swim trunks and a smile. I hadn't even noticed he was gone.

We never did figure out how he escaped. There were four adults and six other children (all older than Miles) in the 3-room suite, but no one admitted to opening the door, and no one saw him leave. I spent the rest of the day wondering "What if?" What if the strangers hadn't known which door to knock on? What if he'd fallen down the stairs, or got stuck in the elevator? What if he'd been found by carnival scouts looking to book a new baby act for their traveling show?

I had to force myself to stop thinking about the frightening possibilities, and just be grateful it all turned out OK. I have a feeling that's a lesson I'll have to learn again and again with this kid. If he were any less adorable, I might resent him for it. But Miles can charm the exasperation right out of me. His smiles are constant, and his hugs are abundant. (He's a little stingy with kisses (except for the dog), but I can't say I mind too much, because they're usually open-mouthed (especially for the dog).) He's friendly and fun, and he spreads cheer everywhere he goes. On grocery outings, he spontaneously hugs sweet grandmas who stop to say hello. At church, he picks a new (adult) friend every week to snuggle.

Things will be different at church now that Miles has his own class to go to. He turned 18 months on Monday, and that means he gets to go to nursery. I snuck him in a day early last week, and just as I expected, he ran straight for the toys without a glance over his shoulder; I went to my own class alone. I'll admit I missed him, and not just because it meant I had to pay attention. For all his mischief, I just really like the kid. So when I went to pick him up after church I was just a little bit glad to see his lip quiver when he caught sight of me. And even happier to hear that mid-way through class, he'd gone to the door and called "Ma! Ma!" I wasn't even there to see it, and it still melts my heart!

Maybe it's a bad idea to admit all of this. I might end up bailing him out of jail some day after a teenage prank gone wrong. And I don't want him thinking that all it takes to win me over is a lip quiver and a hug. But, let's face it, he probably knows that already. At 18 months, he's got me all figured out.

For devices, less is often more

2011-02-23T13:57:00.004-06:00

Who do you want as a sidekick, a burly carni strongman or a ninja that never sleeps?

Before you get too interested, this is another post about gadgets. Specifically, I'm thinking iPad vs. Cr-48 vs. conventional Windows laptop. There. You've been warned.

I've always been a gadget guy and I've wanted to get the latest gizmo long before I can really ever afford it. Eight years ago when I was getting married I convinced my mom to buy an expensive digital camera for the occasion, mainly because I wanted to play with one and I couldn't afford one myself. The thing I learned back then that is still true today is that specs do not accurately describe the quality of what you're getting. A 5 megapixel camera could have a horrible noisy picture compared to a higher quality 1 megapixel camera that had good processing--it just had bigger files with more pixels to *possibly* capture the details if they were there to begin with. But people didn't bother with looking at image quality so much back then, they just wanted the camera with the highest number of megapixels plastered on the side. It was a fallacious "appeal to authority" the likes of which could have been a case example for my logic 101 class in college--the numbers were the authority to declare this camera superior in the face of all other subjective assessments, however misleading they higher numbers might be.

All that is to lead into the idea that computers, cell phones, and other gadgets suffer the same fate. When people evaluate computers, it's often all about the specs--how much memory, storage and processor speed are you getting? So then when they buy a cell phone or Apple device, they fall into the same line of thinking, asking whether it multitasks or runs flash or has some additional feature that the other device does not, making this the mark of superiority. And, to be fair, having certain indispensible features can make or break a device, so that's appropriate some of the time. But usually what I see is that people don't really pay attention to how they actually use these devices-- they like the idea of a carni strongman who can lift anything rather than a ninja who can lift your particular carry on bag and also manage to continue lifting it for 50 miles while the strongman lasted only half a mile!

In case that was a bit vague, let me clarify. I need a portable device that has a long battery and does what I want it to do when I want it to do it. Sure, I like a computer that I can use to edit videos and play super high frame rate games on, etc. But I'd rather have a portable device that can't do those things if cramming those features into my portable device means that it will have to sacrifice battery life. Not enough battery means I can't do anything at all after a little while, which is far less acceptable to me than having a long period of reliably doing my low-resource boring day-to-day things.

When you read the tech news about Android devices, iOS devices, and old-school cell phones, people fall into the megapixel trap of citing specs or feature lists as the objective gold standard for device quality. It doesn't work that way, in my opinion. I have an iPod Touch and I love the thing, and it's because it is so responsive and it lasts a long time between charges. I don't want Flash and multi-tasking if it comes at the price of those core benefits (and it often does). Not that I have a lot of experience with Android, but my buddy's Android phone was snappy as could be after he first got it, but was slow and sluggish after a year of use--I presume exactly because of the multi-tasking bloat that is draining the battery and slowing things down that is typical of older devices after lots of installations.

Now, for the Cr-48. Here's a device that exemplifies exactly what I'm talking about. It's a full computer allowing keyboard typing (I can't even conceive of writing this post on an ipad!) but without the bloat under the hood that keeps the device from responding quickly and lasting the day without a wall outlet. In the comments where I've seen Chrome OS discussed, a lot of people ask over and over, "What can this thing do that I can't do on a regular laptop? Why should I settle for something that has so many limitations when netbooks are so cheap these days and have so much more capability!?" Translation: why would I want a ninja when I could have a carni? And the answer is the same as before: because the ninja will let you do what you need to do more reliably and more quickly than a flashy strongman who can do "more" but fails in the day to day.

Some might say a Kindle or Nook fits the same bill. And it probably does, I've just never used them so I can't comment. But if you have a specific need: reading with low eye strain, reliable long lasting battery, etc... then I can see why you'd go there instead of an iPad or other device with more features at a cost.

For most of what I do on a regular daily basis, battery life and responsiveness are key. That means I have to sacrifice some of the bloat--the ability to do super processor intensive things like Flash games may not be ideal, for example. But if it means I don't run out of battery right when I need it, it's worth it. For devices, less is often more, and so far the Cr-48 is hitting the sweet spot in the middle.

Cloud 9

2011-02-20T08:54:00.003-06:00

I love my Cr-48 (the Google netbook I got to test out that has no conventional hard drive or local file storage). In case you aren't up on your hipster internet lingo, cloud computing means the storage or processing or whatever is distributed between servers and not done on your local machine. You store files on the web, not on the machine sitting in front of you.

Disclaimer first: this post is really boring and it won't hurt my feelings if you just come back when Boss is pontificating about menstruating pinatas or something more interesting. But in case you like the techno-geeky stuff, this post is for you.

Here are the main problems people seem to have with "the cloud":

I won't have *control* over my own information!
It won't be safe on their servers; I've seen in the news how they're hacked all the time!
What if I'm not online? I can't do anything.

Let me respond to these:

You have more control over files online where you can get to them from any computer than you do when they are only on your local machine--the one you always forget to make backups for and the one where Windows requires you to genuflect and kiss its ring before accessing a folder it doesn't trust you with.
Servers controlled by companies like Google and Amazon are safer than most people's local machines. Granted, there are Internet-based companies that play fast and loose with personal information and the news is filled with a rotating stream of them being hacked. The places I store my data online are high quality (with the exception of a few banks that have sent me new credit cards because of online security breaches and that have nothing whatsoever to do with me deliberately storing my information in the cloud). If you take an objective look at the security level of your wifi network at your house, or your family members' surfing habits clicking on any shiny ad that could be malicious, I'd take my chances with the cloud any day!
And not being online? It's no worse than being online and not having access to your files because you're not sitting right in front of the particular machine that stores them. I've tried to share files and folders and external hard drives over my local network. It's frustrating and unnecessary! Windows constantly tells me that I shouldn't be doing what I'm doing and then thwarts me when I try to do it anyway. It's like the argument about gun control laws only keeping guns away from honest people and not criminals--Windows security keeps me from using my own files the way I want but seems to have plenty of ways for the bad guys to get in. On balance, having your files in the cloud makes them much more accessible, not less accessible because you might not always be online.

I thought after getting the Cr-48 I might have to make quite a few changes to how I use my computer to adapt to a computer that is only on the web. But, it turns out, I've already been making the change to the cloud gradually over the last decade, I just didn't realize it in quite those terms until today. For example, here are some of the things I used to do on my local machine that now I do online nearly exclusively:

Office software (i.e. word processing, spreadsheets, and presentations). I started using Google docs a while back for nearly everything and I find it works for 90% of what I need. Occasionally I need a few fancier features than what they have, and for that I have my trusty desktop and the cloud won't hack it. But, for the vast majority of what I do both at work and at home, the cloud is it. For those who like the pretty (albeit over-wrought and infuriating, imho) look of MS Office, there is a web based version of that software if you'd rather use it than Google docs. I'd say you're crazy and try to convince you otherwise, but I'll tone it down for 5 seconds. [Incidentally, I've been impressed with this web-based presentation software.]
E-mail. I can hardly believe I ever did non-web-based e-mail, but I suppose it's true. I used to use a client installed on the local machine that downloaded my messages off the server on to the local machine where I could never read them again from any other web-connected computer. Craziness! Hotmail paved the way (then was assimilated by the Microsoft Borg) and Gmail raised the bar. It's all web all the time, now. Oddly, this is one place where cloud storage trumps local too. My work e-mail limits me to less than 80 megs of storage. Compare that to the 8 gigs in Gmail. Weird.
Documents and records. I can keep scanned documents in the cloud like my kids' birth certificates (bring those up at the airport and save the printouts), my diplomas, etc. I've been looking for my tax return from last year and I can't find it on any of my hard drives or computers around here. I wish I had put it in the cloud for easy access from anywhere, but I just dropped $15 last night trying to download a new copy of last years' return from taxact and it turns out they don't even have the pdf I need! For storage that synchronizes across all your computers and is accessible from the web too, I like Dropbox. I still use google docs to store most things, though, because you can upload videos, pdfs, and other kinds of files besides just office documents.
Tax preparation. Speaking of storing tax records, how about doing the taxes in the first place? I used to buy Turbotax, but for the last several years I've used Freefile online and you get the exact same benefits without purchasing the software. This year for the first time ever, my online preparation was free as well as both the federal and state filing with H&R Block (as long as you access their site through the IRS.gov freefile page and live in a state that has free filing). I can't convince my parents to save their money by doing it this way, but I do think the cloud is the best.
Money management. I used Microsoft Money software for years, and then realized that the jerks had actually built an expiration date (in effect) into the software that required me to buy more of their crappy software later to continue to use my data. Seriously! I couldn't access my own meticulously gathered financial records without paying Microsoft a perpetual upgrade fee? Now I use my bank sites with Mint.com which keeps track of the big picture and budgeting better than MS Money ever did. So neener Microsoft!
Books. I don't read on the computer all that often, but when I do, it's in the cloud (pdf's saved in my Dropbox account, textbooks with login-enabled e-versions, Amazon kindle fiction, Google Books, etc). That way your place is always saved and updated whether you were reading on your ipod or your laptop or switching back and forth or whatever.
Music. Although I've got a huge music collection and I like to listen to it on my computer and ipod every once in a while, I use them much much less than I listen to Pandora or last.fm, which are fresher and give me access to lots of music I don't have to pay for, and which are available from any computer with Internet. Better. Definitely better.
As for movies and TV, we're a big-time Netflix family. We dropped the cable TV bill more than a year ago and haven't missed it much at all. We have Netflix streaming setup through the xbox and our kids love it, we have control of what is coming in, knowledge of what actually got watched, and access to more movies and TV shows that we like than we had when we had TV. We also split some time with hulu and youtube on the computer, but Netflix rules at our house.
Games. I'm admittedly more of a social gamer these days. I'm much more likely to use the arcade feature of the xbox than the full version discs. So, it works out pretty well that if I need a Plants vs. Zombies or Bejeweled fix sometime, they're available online for the computer, not necessitating a local install. Call of Duty? Not so much. But, for us, that's okay because I've got the xbox for that and I don't use the computer for that kind of gaming anyway. Who has the time?
Photos and videos. Here's where I still have some adapting yet to do. I am convinced that storing my stuff in the cloud is a better way to go than locally where they get deleted or corrupted or lost or diluted to oblivion, but I haven't quite made the change yet. We do share a fair number of photos via facebook and flickr and picasa web albums, but this is a very small percentage of our total stash. There are online video editors (which I haven't used much) and photo editors like picnik (which I have used and I've been impressed with). Cloud still wins... although the space needed may argue for a compromise. I buy a new external hard drive every year, it seems, and if I spent that money for getting a lot more online storage in the cloud instead, It'd probably be a zero sum game. We'll see how this one plays out!

Anyway, this may be the most boring post ever, and Boss warned me. But I wanted to at least make a case for cloud based computing. It's new and seems odd to many, but I do think it's a better way to go for many many reasons. Making the transition for us has happened without even realizing it, for the most part. Shortly after we were married we decided not to buy any more books or CDs or DVDs, opting instead for using the library and rentals (with reasonable exceptions, of course). That was sort of a conceptual leap into the cloud, if not literal cloud storage, I suppose. And so it's probably been easier for us over the years to make the computing switch to the cloud. So, here we are a nerdy case example of living with our heads in the clouds, and the Cr-48 is now taking it to the next level.

Nerdiness Extravaganza

2011-02-08T18:46:00.004-06:00

This is Coach writing this post, not Boss. Just want to clarify for those few followers of this blog who enjoy reading the clever musing of my sweet wife--I'm not her. I am far less clever and less able to sew a purse. However, in the technological nerdiness category, I'm willing to go out on a limb and say that in this household, I reign supreme.

Case in point: I just got a brand spankin' new Google netbook in the mail today. It's one of their tester thingys that they've sent out to fanboys like me to try out their new web-based operating system and give them feedback. From what I understand, this thing doesn't have a hard drive for local storage, it doesn't have an optical drive, and you don't install any programs. The idea is that you do *everything* via an always-on web connection. Anyone who would consider using such a device as their main computer is, by definition, uber nerdy. And here I am.

I couldn't actually wait to write this post *on* the computer because it's charging right now and I'm too excited to wait. But, I will definitely be blogging about my experience with it because I'm now feeling a little evangelical on the topic. I love Google and despite that I own no stock and haven't made any money off them (well... until now, I suppose... receiving a free laptop computer does tend to bias one), I've loved them for years. What's not to love about a company that can do all the incredible things they've done for free?

I don't know that my opinion counts for much, but I'll share some thoughts for what they're worth as I use this little gem. I wish someone whose blog I read had warned me to NEVER buy an HP Touchsmart laptop. Well, dear reader, consider YOURself warned anyway. We'll see whether Google manages to measure up to my portable device expectations or whether I'll move on and get that iPad I've been planning on for the last several months.

Love Notes

2011-01-03T11:10:00.000-06:00

One of the things I love about being a parent is finding little messages from my kids. Like this one, from Sam. It's nice to know I'm in the top three.

Perhaps you also noticed the message from Miles in the same photo, top right.. It's a little harder to make out exactly, but it says something like "I may look cute, but do not trust me with electronics. I have remarkable powers of destruction."

Don't worry. The iPod's under warranty. The baby, however, is not.

You remind me of the babe

2010-12-13T20:39:00.003-06:00

What babe?

The babe with the power.

What power?

The power of voodoo.

Who do?

You do.

Do what?

Remind me of the babe.

And since I know now you're in the mood, let's relive the moment together, shall we?

>

Is there anyone who didn't have a crush on David Bowie as the Goblin King? Stop lying, you know you did.

It's beginning to look a lot like Buffalo

2010-12-03T00:08:00.000-06:00

We were scheduled to host pre-school at our house today, but I canceled it. I figured our friends would have a hard time getting to our house, let alone finding a place to park once they got here.

I admit I was glad to cancel it. At midnight last night we arrived home from a (wonderful) 10-day trip to Utah. With suitcases and dirty laundry everywhere, neither the house nor I were ready to facilitate learning. (We're on the letter K. For "keep warm.") But we would have, uh, plowed through, if not for the snow.

Have I mentioned the snow? The snow! The crazy thing about the snow is that it's quite isolated. All the other moms said there wasn't much of anything on the ground where they were (Amherst, Tonawanda, and Cheektowaga). Meanwhile, South Buffalo is in the middle of a driving ban.

There's no ban on playing in the snow, though, and the big kids had a great time climbing Mt. Driveway.¹

I don't think Coach had nearly as much fun plowing Mt. Driveway, especially considering that after three hours out there today, he'll need to do it all again tomorrow.

We love Buffalo, but days like this make it just a little easier to face the prospect of moving. ²

_______

¹Until they got too cold. When I found Grace face-down in the snow, crying about her mittens (she kept pulling her thumb out of the thumb socket) I decided it was time to go in for hot cocoa. Pictures of the awesome snow fort we made will have to wait until tomorrow.

²We're moving! Didn't we tell you? Coach accepted a great job in Ames, Iowa, so we'll be moving there next summer after he finishes his residency. This announcement deserves much more than a footnote, but at the rate I'm blogging these days, you're lucky to get that. We love the community and the practice he's joining. It's a wonderful opportunity, and we have a lot to be grateful for.³

³And that includes you.⁴Thanks for sticking by us through the years, the snow, and the runaway footnotes.

⁴Probably. Who are you, anyway?

Happy Birthday Miles

2010-11-02T23:45:00.000-05:00

Twelve Months

One Singular Sensation

Go ahead, try it

2010-09-12T23:16:00.000-05:00

Say no to this girl. I dare you.

Nice Day for a White Wedding

2010-08-13T10:01:00.001-05:00

Have you ever seen a bride so beautiful?

A groom so happily endangered?

A mother-of-the-bride so radiant?


Or a father-of-the-bride so devastated to learn that his favorite flavor of ice cream has been discontinued. Sorry Dad. Thanks for breaking the news to him gently, Peanut.

And thanks for a beautiful day, Daisy and Adam. A really really beautiful day.

More photos here. But you probably have to be friends or whatever.

__________

Clarifications and confessions: I don't know if DBC ice cream has actually been discontinued. But what else could make Dad's expression so grave? Also, if you now have Billy Idol's White Wedding in your head for the rest of the day, you're welcome. I had the same problem Daisy's wedding day. No worse than the previous week, when I had Beyonce and all her single ladies dancing through my brain during our family sealing session. Awesome.

2010-07-21T19:07:00.000-05:00

You may remember that a certain boy was trained in the art of the jedi...
Well, apparently he turned to the dark side.

He still associates with some pretty good hearted friends though.

... friends who wiped out the death star with their hand-crafted light-sabers.

I think he was bribed back to the light side after all was said and done.

Hey Mom...

2010-06-26T18:36:00.000-05:00

I think I got some broccoli in my crevices.

Artsy Homey Stuff

2010-06-16T19:58:00.005-05:00

I met Brandon on my AMA trip, another radiation oncology resident from Chicago. He's an incredible artist. For example, look at this cool tree mural he did for his living room! I told him we do a fair amount of art in our house too, but when I flipped through meatychunks, I couldn't find any of my art on there anywhere. So, here's some art from the meatychunks residence. It's not all mine, of course, but I realized as I looked around that most of the art around here isn't!

A strange thing happened...

2010-06-16T19:12:00.006-05:00

Just got back from Chicago. It was a beautiful day there with lots of sunshine and urban gardens in full bloom. I shot a few photos to share, but first I have to tell you about a few unusual things that happened while I was there. I go to Chicago two or three times a year, so it feels pretty familiar to me. But I've never been there the day after the Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup. It was general insanity due to the excitement, but it ended up being even moreso since they had a parade down Michigan Ave that ended at my hotel with the team having a big dinner with boosters. That's definitely a first.

Another first was walking down Wabash Ave back from a nice dinner with the Iowa delegation of the AMA when suddenly thousands of bikers started flying past. They were deliberately making lots of noise and drawing attention to themselves, and it wasn't until a few dozen rode by (they were on the far side of a wide street) that someone said, "Are they... naked?" And indeed they were. Most of them were stark naked. There were thousands of them. It was surreal. Apparently there is an annual ride in Chicago to protest overuse of oil and to support a healthy body image. Riiiiight.

And finally, before I post the photos from this morning, the last thing that was odd was that as I was walking through town taking these pictures I overheard multiple conversations about radiation oncology. One was a breast cancer patient who apparently didn't want radiation, "If it's incurable, then why prolong the inevitable?" I resisted the temptation to point out that life is incurable in general and death is always inevitable, but people generally prolong facing it just the same. A few block later I heard (or thought I heard) a couple guys talking about radiation biology board exams. The same test I'm going to be taking in a few weeks. Crazy, huh?

Well, without further ado, here are some photos. The sunniest, brightest final picture was the view of my kitchen floor after getting home a few minutes ago.

While we weren't blogging

2010-05-25T12:20:00.004-05:00

We took a spontaneous trip to NYC.¹

And a planned-for-many-months trip to Disney world.²

Grace turned three.³
And Coach turned 35.⁴

Also, a mysterious organization dropped this giant baby from the sky (along with a pallet-full of other clearly labeled perishables).⁵

And Sam lost two teeth.⁶

And now we're caught up for another six months. Right?

__________________

1. Thanks to Jetblue's recent anniversary sale we got tickets for $10 each way and saved a bundle. And then we spent that bundle on swedish fish to keep the children occupied during our many subway rides around town.

2. And now Sam wants to move to Orlando.

3. You should ask her about it. She loves to hold up two fingers and tell strangers "I used to be two..." (pause for deliberately popping up a third finger) "but now I'm three." Unless you are a princess. If you are a princess, she'll probably be too shy to do anything but stare at you with wide, admiring eyes.

4. Does this look more like a passport photo than a birthday photo? It should. Coach had to renew his passport for an upcoming trip to Amsterdam, where he'll be presenting a paper to a bunch of fellow radiation oncologists. It's just as impressive as it sounds, but you won't hear about it from him because his tootin' horn is broken. Mine's not though. I love that guy.

5. That's the only possible explanation for how this kid got so big.

6. I realize Sam's teeth aren't much of a focal point in this photo. You'll have to zoom in. I tried cropping it down, but I looked at Grace's sweet face and just couldn't. That's the kind of mug you add into photos, not the kind you crop out. You know?

For Mom, DisneyWorld report prelim

2010-05-02T18:43:00.002-05:00

I haven't managed to edit our videos from our Feb trip to Florida, but Mom says she wants to see somethin'. So here's an rough edited bit from the Jedi Training Academy in Hollywood Studios where Sam took his mad lightsaber skillz to the next level. Seems timely since they're just starting the Disney Star Wars weekends. Sam saw a promo for that before we went in February and just about couldn't take the disappointment when I explained that it was happening when we weren't going to be there. Luckily... they have some Star Wars love all year round...

Blue Collar

2010-04-25T18:33:00.003-05:00

Now that your finances are in order, I understand there's a problem with your plumbing.

Oh my. That sounds troublesome.

I'm really very concerned about this situation.

Let me give you my professional opinion.

Use diapers!

Diapers! Diapers! Diapers!

Diapers for everyone!

Cause the garbage man's gotta work too.

Organized insanity

2010-04-22T08:09:00.004-05:00

Got back from the Medical Society of the State of New York meeting over last weekend where many health system reform issues came into focus for me. I'd say the crux of the problem with the reform process is the closed-minded approach that many people have committed themselves to at this point. It's McCarthyism and hyperbole, all the way.

At one reception during the meeting a man overheard me say that I was glad that the reform legislation passed, despite that it left so much unaddressed and so much work still needs to be done. This comment, apparently, sealed my character in his mind and probably led to this subsequent exchange several minutes later...

Him: "Obama thinks doctors would rather charge thousands of dollars for a tonsillectomy than prescribe antibiotics. Senator Schumer thinks that doctors charge $4000 to a patient after they wave at them in the hall. Obama says we'd rather amputate a diabetic patient's foot than keep their sugars controlled..."

Me: "Well, there is a grain of truth behind the hyperbole because..."

Him: "WHAT DID YOU SAY?!? DID YOU JUST SAY... ARE YOU INSANE?!? [etc]"

Me: [trying to clarify, but unable to get a word in edge-wise] "No, none of those things are real, it was hyperbole... I only meant that there is truly an incentive for overtreatment in our system..." [etc]

I genuinely thought for a moment this man might go ballistic and start throwing punches. His wife, also a physician, looked at me as if I were slimy. It was not a pleasant conversation. Nor was it really... you know, a conversation.

Misunderstandings are unavoidable, I think, in a conversation about something as complicated as our healthcare system. However, ironing out misunderstandings requires more conversation, and the types of misunderstandings I've seen have been based on dogma and ill-will often enough that more conversation is extremely unlikely. People retreat to their respective tents to reinforce their existing biases and dialog goes nowhere.

Luckily for me, people who read this blog are generally my friends/family and are willing to give the benefit of the doubt. Conversations are possible here, if limited by the medium.

So, here are a few follow up thoughts from my last post.

The overarching goals of healthcare reform are (in my mind... and evolving all the time!):

Making care of the highest quality
Facilitating the economics of care
Promoting freedom and associated responsibility

QUALITY CARE

In order to make care of the highest quality, we need comparative effectiveness research in the best sense: information about the best ways of delivering care that is not solely dependent on industry funded research, and that does not interfere with the autonomy of physicians and patients.

Case in point from MSSNY: one of the resolutions asked for policy that supports mammography guidelines from the 2002 USPSTF rather than the more recent guidelines. Some believe that the government has removed the rights of physicians and patients to screen from ages 40-50, and that this decision was a kind of rationing of healthcare resources. In fact, I read the new USPSTF recommendations after the meeting and they emphatically stated that they were only recommending against "routine" screening in this age group and that access or payment should not be denied based on their recommendations. Essentially, they just wanted to the doctor and patient to actually talk about the risks and benefits before enacting a rote screening algorithm.

The new healthcare reform law includes provisions for publicly funded comparative effectiveness research. Opponents cite the inability of the government to administrate anything effectively ever, which is a bit lacking in nuance. I'm glad CER is included. I think it will prove to be money well spent, and public money is the only money that will fund some of the most necessary data as there is a financial dis-incentive for decreasing certain costs.

ECONOMICS OF CARE

I mentioned in my last post that transparency of cost is something crucial for reform that is largely ignored in most conversations. Proponents of a public option (or, more inciting, a dreaded single-payer system!), point to the ineffectiveness and broken nature of our current "free market" system. We've tried it and it's not working, they suggest. I've never had an economics class in my life (lamentably), but if nobody knows what anything costs or makes any actual supply/demand decisions about consumption, I don't see how our current system is much of a free market. Regardless of the left or right leaning direction of proposed reforms, I see cost transparency as a necessary starting place for any real accountability by anyone.

There are incentives to over-treat. It's a fact. However, vilifying physicians as parasitic and unconscionable predators is not only politically stupid, it's unfair and contributes to the polarized unfriendly nature of the conversation.

FACILITATING FREEDOM

Philosophically, freedom is a mixed bag. Grown-ups understand (hopefully) that obligations are attached to certain decisions and so freedom is never fully free. I bring this up because it's the principle that seems so often disguised and/or misunderstood whenever we consider healthcare reform.

People need to actually pay in some manner or another for what they receive.

It's the economics of the universe that entropy isn't going to carry you comfortably through retirement. Someone's gonna have to pay, and that someone is likely you earlier in life. Now, the manner in which this is arranged is a great debate. Should it be through health savings accounts or public programs? I have friends/family on both sides of that issue and I'm aware of merits and drawbacks either way. I've personally decided I favor an insurance mandate, and I'll explain why.

Requiring people to purchase health insurance is distasteful because it removes an individual's options of how they want to pay for their healthcare. It takes away freedom in the literal sense. It imposes an approach that means profits for insurance companies at the compulsory expense of working individuals and families. I appreciate this problem. However, I think this is mainly an academic issue as very few people are wealthy enough to self-insure. Extremely few. And those people who are wealthy enough typically buy insurance anyway. We're talking about a legitimate loss of freedom by a very very small group of people.

That's the harm of mandating insurance, so what's the benefit? In our society we don't just let people suffer. We care for them. And that care costs money. Frequently the people who need the most care are the people least able to pay. In our immediate past we have tolerated tens of millions of people disconnecting choice and responsibility through not having health insurance. Many good people believe they don't need insurance because they are healthy enough or wealthy enough that not having insurance is the better economic option. In the pools of shared risk, most of them are right, but there will statistically always be high costs for everyone to cover those who end up wrong. The inevitability of that displaced cost means the everyone's freedoms are limited by the choice to not carry insurance by this pool of people who seem arguably justified in doing so.

Take for example, this article.

Karen: "No one in my family has has ever had to go the emergency room. Our belief system is that if you know who you are, you won't even need ER visits."

Your belief system seems to ignore that bad things happen to good people. Would you shoo away the ambulance after a car accident and just hold pressure until you get in to see your FP?

Joan: "I just have strong opinions about taking care of yourself, and I'm willing to pay the consequences for that point of view. If I get sick, well, I guess they can just scrape me up off the street and put me in with the landfill!"

Lovely sentiment, but our society doesn't work that way. You can't have the economic benefits of American society if you want the social responsibility of Afghanistan. You get a matched pair.

I could write a response to each of the folks highlighted in the article, but you get the idea. Mandated insurance isn't a perfect solution to the problem of freeloaders, but it certainly brings the costs of healthcare risk to a larger portion of the healthcare risk consuming pool. In this way, it actually increases the freedom of the majority not to subsidize the care of others. People can be delusional about the way they are subject to healthcare risks (statistics make it very easy to fool yourself... just like smoking is overall unlikely to kill you and yet simultaneously is the leading cause of preventable death our country faces.) and consequently displace responsibility for their own poor decisions on society. Mandating otherwise is, unfortunately, both effective and necessary. On balance, the freedoms gained outweigh the freedoms lost.

Without going into the relative merits of a democracy versus a republic, I will just acknowledge that our leaders did act against public sentiment by passing the law they did. And, although violating the will of the people seems reprehensible, one may argue that on occasion leaders of a republic act in the best interests despite the will of the people. Because one's own understanding of the issues determines whether you see it as reprehensible or politically courageous to violate the will of the people, I don't really factor any of that in my views of the central issues of healthcare reform.

Sorry for the long post. I still didn't manage to say as much as I intended! But... well, there's that much.

Healthcare Insurance System Reform

2010-04-11T18:01:00.002-05:00

When a lot of people talk about the healthcare reform Congress just passed, it's some form of the question, "What exactly just happened?" There are a lot of details, but the two headliners are that insurance coverage can no longer be denied for pre-existing conditions, and everyone has to have health insurance.

For some, passing this bill is so distasteful as to somehow be associated with "Armageddon" (per minority leader Boehner). But when I step away from the hyperbole and fear-mongering (Glenn Beck, I'm looking at you), my short thoughts are: this is a good thing, it could have been a better thing, more is yet to be done. As to the title of the post, the reform that was passed was mainly a change in how we pay for healthcare rather than addressing the problems with the medical system itself, and I do believe it will have a positive net impact on us as a country. However, the most fundamental problem with how we finance health care has not been addressed, and that is that nobody--from the patient to the various team of healthcare providers--knows how much anything costs.

Maybe it's an extension of the obfuscated costs of healthcare, but discussions of healthcare as a "right" and the inevitability of "rationing" all stem from some absurd idea that the resources for healthcare follow a set of unique existential laws separate from all else we consume. Somehow many people seem to believe that nobody has a right to tell anyone when to pull the plug on Granny, but are hard pressed to explain who should pay for these expensive benefits Granny et al can't afford. The fact is, it's all expensive--very very expensive. And unlike everything else in my life that costs a lot of money, I'm prevented from doing cost research, taking advantages of sales and price breaks, or any of a zillion economic tricks that have kept my family living comfortably on a resident salary for years. But, it hardly matters when the bills are paid by the borg--some collective of University, government, insurance company, and hospital resources that combine to take care of things in a manner that recycles all the very real costs into a smattering of undetectable accounting tweaks that make me feel like I'm not really paying for it at all. It's an employment "benefit". Woop-dee-doo.

Anyway, all that is to say that in my view the real problem with the medical system is that people have not been allowed to understand the value of their care--how much it really costs. And until we are given that, other cost cutting measures are stop gaps that will only put bandaids on the severed arteries of our economy. This bill didn't address that fundamental aspect of cutting medical costs, and, somewhat understandably, that made a lot of people oppose it. I ignore the deficiencies in what the bill could have been in favor of appreciating what it did do.

As a nation, we've decided basic healthcare is a right. It's already done. That is to say, if someone shows up at the ER bleeding to death, we don't check their insurance status before saving their life. If they can't pay, we all pay for them. One can make the argument that this should change, but I don't see that as politically feasible, moral, or consistent with my own values. So, I accept as a given that everyone consumes healthcare in this country whether they pay for it directly or not. For healthy young people, the consumption is of the obviated risk of unfinanced catastrophic injury rather than direct medical care, but the consumed benefit is real just the same. Since everyone receives this benefit, it's only fair that everyone should be made to pay rather than freeload. And that's why I personally support mandated health insurance as an appropriate intrusion into our personal freedoms.

Detractors have many arguments against the reform, but the ones I hear most frequently are these:

- mandates are unconstitutional

- healthy individuals should not be made to pay for the benefits of the unhealthy

- those whose behaviors make their care more expensive should not be subsidized by their more personally responsible counterparts

- the government can't be trusted to do something this big correctly

I bit off more than I could chew by starting this post, because I realize to do it justice will take a lot longer than I have right now. But, add to my list of detractor arguments in the comments and I'll try to write more later. Thoughts?

Expletives

2010-02-20T09:28:00.007-06:00

Miles can't talk yet, but if he could, I'm pretty sure what he'd say.

Clearly, something has alarmed the child. And whatever it was, he passed it along to Grace.

And that's why he looks so smug.

Things that make a Daddy happy

2010-02-12T15:42:00.005-06:00

Today we took Grace to the doctor for her well child check. At the end she got two shots and they did not go particularly well. It turns out she doesn't like needles. Still. Well, because she got two shots she was offered 2 stickers. She picked one and then started bargaining with the nurse that she needed two more for her brother. Finally she got a care bear for herself and 2 spiderman stickers for her brother. I thought it was really cute that she was thinking of him.

Then, she was over at a friend's house this afternoon when Sam came home from school. He was happily showing off his many valentines from his friends and then confided that he had "sneakedd a cupcake into Grace's mailbox". He got a cupcake from a friend, and decided to give his best valentine loot to his sister as a surprise.

So, next time I hear dialog like this:

Sam: "I don't want to argue with you."

Grace: "Yes!"

Sam: "No!"

etc..., I will remember that they really do love each other. A lot.

Us, lately

2010-01-31T14:16:00.003-06:00

We had preschool at our house the otherday. The highlight, of course, was snack time. Each child got a dollop of chocolate frosting and a gingerbread-man-shaped sugar cookie to frost "all by myself." Apparently, Grace did not think her dollop was big enough, and took matters into her own hands.

She looked so proud when I found her. "I'm having chocolate Mommy," she said. "On a spoon."

And it was cute. So I got out the camera before I took the frosting away.

This is silly, but when I uploaded the photos this afternoon, this one seemed like a representative metaphor of my life lately. There's snow outside. And gloves and boots and coats everywhere. And toys on the floor. All the time. And I'll admit the combination makes me grumpy sometimes. But there are those sweet, fudge covered moments too, if I take the time to notice them.

So here are some of the fudgey highlights of the last few weeks:

Sam started swim lessons last week. He was adorably nervous about it at first, but has ended up really liking it. Yesterday he came home and proudly told me about putting his head under water and blowing bubbles.

He's as creative and imaginative as ever. Every surface in our home is covered in drawings and lists. Here's a recent portrait of Jango Fett, Sam's hero and proposed namesake for Baby Miles.

Grace is giving me grief lately. She's always been opinionated, but over the past few months she's really grown into her role as self-appointed family dictator. In all of my daily tasks -- from driving, to peanut butter sandwich construction, I'm expected to bow to her expertise. As far as Grace is concerned, there's no such thing as a suggestion.

But then, she can be just so stinkin' sweet too. On the way home from church today, I saw her just sitting in her car seat, grinning. I asked her if she had a good time in nursery, and she said, "Yeah. I saw Daddy and ran to him."

"Oh, when he picked you up? Was that your favorite part?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. And melted my heart.

Speaking of melting hearts, there's this kid.

He used to be kind of stingy with the smiles (except when Aunt Shana held him), but not anymore. Good thing too, cause I can't get enough.

Pondering the iPad

2010-01-28T12:55:00.002-06:00

I probably count as an Apple fanboy. At least, if enthusiasm for Apple gadgets is the measuring stick. But my enthusiasm is not unqualified--I wouldn't touch an Apple TV and I've never owned a Mac. When it comes to the iphone and ipod touch, though, there's just no comparison with anything else, and my kids will stand with me in my dedication to ipod funness.

When I got my ipod touch about a year ago, I also got an HP Touchsmart PC. I lamented at the time that Apple didn't have a tablet for me to buy, because I would have loved to just get something just like the ipod touch, but with a bigger screen and a keyboard accessory. The touchsmart seemed the best existing alternative, and it has turned out to be a huge disappointment. They say it has multi-touch, but it doesn't work. Everything a touch screen is really good for (besides handwriting), it does really really poorly.

With all the Internet buzz about the iPad, most of the commentary has missed what I think is the real point. This device is not everything to everyone. It does a limited number of things--the most common and pervasive things people need to do on-the-go--and it does them better than anything else. People keep comparing it to the *capabilities* of a netbook rather than the actual usability of a netbook. As someone who has owned tablets from Fujitsu and HP as well as a netbook for many years, I can tell you they ALL are horrible in terms of responsiveness.

People are disappointed it doesn't multi-task, it doesn't have a camera, and its software is tightly controlled by Apple. In my mind, these are the very design choices that let Apple make something that works so well. Multi-tasking on my PC is great, but also means that most of the programs I install try to slip an applet into the taskbar, squandering system resources and making the everyday things I do stutter and pause. It's just not worth it.

So, there. Call me a fanboy, but I'm excited for the iPad.

Fun youtubes

2010-01-03T11:15:00.002-06:00

I've noticed a shocking lack of spontaneous production numbers at my place of employment. Perhaps I can come up with a plan to address this problem during my research months. Here's how it's done:

And just to show you it can be done in a hospital...

2009-12-30T21:28:00.001-06:00

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Another Day at the Office

2009-12-13T22:15:00.003-06:00

I understand you'd like a loan from our institution.

I will have to give the matter some thought.

What's that? The loan will fund infant stabilization devices for at-home photo shoots?

Approved!

My baby smells like chicken.

2009-12-09T10:59:00.002-06:00

Not chicken chicken, really. It's more like chicken flavoring. Like Chick N Biscuit crackers, or bullion cubes or something.

I sense something sinister about this, like it's the next step in my vampiric transformation.

Or maybe Miles just needs a bath.

When children fight

2009-11-29T18:52:00.002-06:00

Which academy award is more likely--best actor and actress or best cinematography? You should see the results when we actually try. ;-)

An offer you can't refuse

2009-11-23T18:11:00.006-06:00

This is a post about bargains. And to start out, I want to pitch the idea of going to Disney World. It's the perfect time around, say, February or March when the crowds will be small and the weather will be perfect. Your tax refund from all those stimulus funds will have just arrived, and your kids will be itching for an early Spring break.. Hotel tickets and park passes are buy 4 days and get 3 days free right now for that time frame, so it's a definite bargain. And, the best part of all? We'll be there to hang out with you (restrictions may apply). Go ahead and book those tickets now. And if you can't come, that's okay, neither can our dog. By the way, can you watch our dog?

Ok, moving along. Last year we did nearly all our Christmas shopping online, and we mainly did it that way because we found really good deals. Here are a few sites and tips for your online Christmas shopping.

Slickdeals.net is a great site to watch. The best of the best from around the web gets posted on the homepage, but you do well to watch the forums too since the best deals sometimes dry up by the time they get so popular that they reach the home page.
Amazon.com has everything, and if you watch carefully you'll find what you want at a really good price. Shipping is always the rub, but if you sign up for an Amazon Prime membership you get free 2 day shipping on all your purchases. You get a month of the service free with a promotion they seem to have perpetually going on. Last year we signed up for our month at about this time and got all our holiday stuff shipped out free. Just remember to cancel if you don't plan to shop online as much the rest of the year
Bing cashback is a concept you should definitely know about. When you do a search on Bing for different gifty things like "digital camera" or "mp3 player", the sponsored results will often have a store that offers cashback on purchases. Last year I got several hundred dollars back on purchases that I was already planning to make by just searching through Bing first. Ebay "buy it now" was giving 30% cashback for a while last year. You can get a 10% cash back on purchases from Walmart online right now too. Just read the rules and understand them and you'll be all set.
Many credit card companies have a similar cashback system where you access merchants through the credit card's storefront site, and you get a rebate. Discover is the one that seems to have the most generous offers, but several others do it too. If you're buying anything online from Dell, HP, Apple, Walmart, Target, JCPenney, Old Navy... etc., then you might as well buy it through a site like this and get money back.
Price match your Walmart Black Friday stuff. My plan this year is to avoid the 5:00 am chaos by strolling into the store at around 8 or 9 with a competitor ad in hand. They tell me that they will price match other Black Friday deals, as long as you have the competitor local ad, it's in the appropriate time window where the prices apply to the competitor, and it's the exact same model/item. Of course, for this to work, you have to know that Walmart carries what you want, but I figure competing for those items featured at other stores and not the actual Walmart Black Friday items will make for a nice sleep-in.
Buy Ooma for Christmas if you have high speed internet. I found it on Amazon for $160 (including the scout that connects all your phone jacks throughout the house), and I figure cancelling my phone service will pay for that in about 6 months or so.

2 weeks old

2009-11-16T12:23:00.002-06:00

Fresh

2009-11-08T11:23:00.002-06:00

From the bath.

From the stork.

From the cuteness factory.

A Halloween Story

2009-11-07T11:59:00.000-06:00

Last week I took the kids to The Great Pumpkin Farm, an activity that has become an annual tradition for us since we moved to Buffalo. (Only, apparently it is not an annual tradition for us to share pictures of that event because I never blogged last year's trip. Which was cute. Sorry.)

Anyway, the kids did the usual pumpkin farmy related stuff.

Posing for photos:

Playing on the wooden train:

And feeding the animals:

(Actually, only Grace fed the animals. After insisting that I purchase a 25 cent handful of dried corn, Sam realized he didn't want to risk getting licked by a goat. Grace had no such qualms.)

We also picked out little pumpkins for Grace and the new baby. (And just so you won't believe his claims of favoritism and neglect, Sam had already picked a huge one at a local farmer's market, and a second on a kindergarten field trip to a farm.)

Then we headed into the big barn store to pay for our pumpkins and choose a treat. True to form, the kids opted for candy, and pointed out their choices from the bulk candy jars on display. As usual, Sam was very specific, right down to choosing individual red gummy bears and mallow creme pumpkins. (The clerk cheerfully indulged him, and put just the right selection of candies in his little bag.) Also as usual, Grace was much easier to please. Candy flavored? Dump it right in?

Sweet teeth satisfied, we browsed the gift shop, which happened to be running a 50% off sale on all their Halloween crafts and decor. I had an eye on a few little things myself, and to make the minimum purchase requirement for the deal (20 bucks, which was really 10 bucks), I was willing to let the kids pick out something. At first, they both set their sights on a stupid witch lawn ornament, and though I dragged them through the store to find something better, nothing else would satisfy. With resignation, I gathered our purchases and set them on the checkout counter. Only then did Sam see the display of Halloween head wear that changed his life: A pirate hat headband! And a floppy pumpkin beret for Grace!

I was good with that. Both choices were cheap. Even better, Sam declared that he'd rather be a pirate for Halloween than a ghost, thus saving me the trouble of inventing a portable levitation device.

So we left with the pirate hat and the pumpkin hat, and happy plans to complete the costumes with little bits of this and that at home.

I should interject here that I'm probably more opinionated about my kids' Halloween costumes than I should be. I like to have a family costume theme, and usually try to convince them to wear something we can all work around. But as my children have developed their own ideas about what they like to wear (the nerve!), I've become less convincing.

I'd resigned myself to random costumes this year, but in the spirit of faking a theme when you can't make one, I observed that pirate and pumpkin both start with "P," and that maybe we could all be a "P" word. (Think you know where this is going? Not there, you bunch of pervs!) Sam was intrigued but skeptical. "Like what?" He wanted to know.

"I could be a pregnant lady." I said.

"But you already are." He said. "So you can't be that for your costume."

I could see his point, but still. "That's why it's a good costume. It's easy."

"No, that won't work." Declared Sam. "Maybe a popsicle."

(The truth is that through all of this discussion, I fully intended to not be pregnant when the time came for donning costumes. I'd either be in the hospital having a baby, or cheerfully holding a new cherub after a fast and painless birth. My real dilemma was whether I needed to come up with a "P" costume for the baby too.)

But my plans did not go as planned, and so I donned a cop-out costume: a glow in the dark skeleton onesie pinned to my belly. It was cute(ish), and more importantly, easy. And although I generally subscribe to the idea that a pregnant woman can pin pretty much anything she wants to her belly and call it a costume, the reality is that mine fell far short of the truly great (with child) preggo costumes I've seen. Like this one executed by my friend Ben for his wife FoxyJ; a much more elegant version of the idea I was going for, I'm sure you'll agree. Or this one my friend D wore to a party last year. She's smiling because she just ate Grandma. Oh yeah, and stole her clothes. And I have to mention this one from my friend Erica, possibly the best preggy costume of all time, and not just because it includes the belly daddy in frighteningly authentic Pee Wee Herman attire.

But, as I said, easy especially important to me this year, so despite Sam's objections I went as a pregant lady. Coach was a paparazzi photographer.

Which means we got some pretty great photos out of the deal. Like this one:

And this.
Arm yourself. I think this is some kind of ninja-jedi-pirate attack on its way.

And candid shots like these.

And since it's taken me more than a week to publish this post, I might as well include the shots that didn't make it in before the Halloween deadline.

Like these.

My costume looks way better on him, I promise.

Perspective

2009-11-07T11:07:00.001-06:00

Grace is like the quarter placed in the picture to show relative size.

Grace does not like being the quarter. She'd rather have chocolate.

This is Miles Henry

2009-11-07T09:45:00.003-06:00

You may notice a certain fullness to the cheeks that was not there a few days ago.

He likes to eat.

Watch out. He's got his eye on you next.

2009-11-02T21:22:00.000-06:00

I think he looks like my Sam.

It's a boy!... still.

2009-11-02T14:12:00.002-06:00

I mean, you knew it was a boy already, right? Well now it's official. Baby is 7 pounds 3 ounces and 21 inches. I have photos but no USB cable. So, stay tuned.

If I make a list of things I've been meaning to blog about, does that count as blogging about them?

2009-10-11T19:07:00.003-05:00

1. I'm getting stupider.*

2. Grace can talk now, and she says anything that pops into her curly little head. **

3. Sam wants to be a ghost for Halloween.***

4. Pregnancy is emotionally confusing.****

5. Coach and I went on a little vacation a couple weekends ago, sans children.*****

* This is not without precedent, but Coach says it's got nothing to do with being pregnant. It's because I'm not blogging enough.

**For example, last week I farted, (This may be a shocking admission to some of you, knowing my delicate sensibilities about this sort of thing. But we have a strict family policy of Flatulence Integrity, and I'm not about to risk another writeup from Human Resources.) and when Grace caught wind of it she said "Mommy, you smell poopy. You go inside take bath and potty." I laughed, continued up the steps toward the house, and turned to wait for her on the porch. She refused to budge. "You go," she said, standing at the bottom of the stairs looking stern. So I went inside, and Grace followed eventually. (And although I did use the potty, I didn't take a bath. Don't tell Grace.)

***This may sound like a boring costume to you, but remember this is Sam we're talking about. Of course he has something ingenious up his sleeve: levitation. So far, he's suggested a sort of miniature remote-control crane, rocket boosters, and/or helium balloons to get himself airborne. I'm running out of ways to shoot him down. At least ghost costumes are easy to sew.

****Like what's what all the inappropriate crying in public? Like in the Apple store when I was browsing videos on the new ipods, and stumbled upon this video and before I reached the minute mark I was literally sobbing. Or when I couldn't decide if I was too tired to see the Cleveland Botanical Garden, so instead of deciding I sat down on a bench and cried. Even weirder, what's with the inexplicable composure in more stressful situations? Like when the kids decided to "wash [their] fingernails" in the upstairs bathroom while I was doing laundry in the basement, and the sink overflowed onto the floor and dripped through the tile, down to the dining room, through the dining room floor, and down to the basement, where (remember) I was doing laundry. Did I cry? No. Did I scream and yell? No. Did I clean it up? Yes. Did I grumble as I re-washed every formerly clean towel in the house? Yes I did. Or, how about when our van was broken into and our GPS unit was stolen and we lost most of a day of our precious vacation cleaning up glass and trying to figure out how to get around Cleveland. Did I cry? No. Back at home, can I successfully navigate to the dentist without the GPS? No. Does that make me want to cry? Yes.

*****It was awesome. We still love each other. And we still think we're funny.

I'm nesting

2009-08-18T17:03:00.002-05:00

So I'm trying to get rid of stuff and make way for a new baby. And what better way to get rid of stuff than to give it to you?

First lot on the table: Grace's baby decor.

Check out my other blog if you're interested.

Lots of Fun Stuff

2009-08-09T14:41:00.001-05:00

Summer is short in Buffalo. The weather is one thing -- we often get snow until April and frost until May. And the kids don't get out of school until the end of June. So looking at the calendar today (dude! July is so last month!) (and school starts next month!), I had a moment of panic. What have we done with our more-than-half-gone summer?

Turns out, we've been busy. I decided before school let out that I needed to come up with a plan so that we wouldn't end up watching TV and playing X-Box for two months straight. I wanted to keep the kids on a fairly normal sleeping schedule, keep Sam in the habit of doing school work, and maybe help push him over the edge from pre-reading to reading. The plan was to work on sight words every morning at breakfast, spend time on his workbooks before bed, and read lots and lots of books together. Plus, I had a lot of my own projects to get done. And maybe we needed clean clothes to wear every now and then. So I came up with a schedule of weekly activities, and so far we've been pretty good at sticking to it: On Mondays we do a craft project. On Tuesdays we go to the library and/or to a free kids movie at Regal Cinemas. On Wednesdays we have playgroup. Thursdays is for laundry, chores and projects at home. Friday is field trip day, sponsored by our family membership to Boonshoft Museum of Discovery, in Dayton Ohio.*

I haven't been very good at sticking to the early bedtime plan, or at getting any of our regular chores done. And the sight words for breakfast and workbooks for bedtime plan hasn't really flown either, so Sam still can't read. And it's all my fault.

But on the other hand, my kids are tan and (mostly) happy**, and have enjoyed lots of fun stuff. Like crayon day.

First we took our bucket of broken crayons outside and traced different textures. Then we pulled off all the wrappers and sorted them by color in a cupcake pan. After about 30 minutes in warm oven, the crayon bits melted into colorful crayon patties in the shape of reese's peanut butter cups. Oh, wait. But before we got to the solid patties, the kids painted with the liquid wax. This was a step I was not very excited about. It was messy, and I was sure someone was going to get burned. But I caved to the pressure, and we ended up with some wonderfully weird designs.

Here's Grace showing you her creation.

She also wants to show you her froggie purse, complete with disembodied doll limbs. My apologies to sensitive viewers.
The next week we made salt art, an idea stolen from this clever lady. There was some trial and error involved in this project. I had gel food coloring, not liquid, and it kept making little clumps of brightly colored salt instead of distributing evenly throughout the mixture. After dirtying half a dozen bowls, I discovered that the best solution was to dissolve the gel in a tiny bit of water, and then use my kitchen aid to mix the colored water in with a cup or two of salt.

Despite his unenthusiastic mug shots, Sam was really quite happy with this project. I'm not sure what to do with all those jars of colorful sand now . Maybe homemade play dough for some future week. Would that work?

Another week we painted some little benches for our new backyard patio.

The foot painting was Grace's idea, and not one that I was particularly excited about. I doubted my own sanity at several points during this project. But in the end, all the paint came off their bodies and stayed on the stools, and that was the whole objective.

I'll admit to doing some paint smoothing and redistribution while the kids worked. And sometimes I pointed out spots they missed. But other than that, it was all them. And look how great they turned out.

(I need to write a whole post about the patio, and all of its associated projects one of these days. I made sweet Coach work like a dog this spring to get it in, but we sure have enjoyed it!)

As for field trips, we've been on lots, but somehow I always leave the camera behind. We've been to the Buffalo Zoo, the Buffalo Botanical Garden, the Strong Museum of Play, and the Buffalo Museum of Science. A couple weeks ago, some Frogmorton aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents came to town, and we got to enjoy the Hill Cumorah Pageant.

It was interesting, trying to expain the pageant to Sam as it was performed. He kept asking "Is that real?" I hadn't thought before about how confusing that kind of thing must be to a child -- fictional portrayals of real events. He was really worried about people being burned and stabbed and thrown off of cliffs. If it hadn't been for all the candy and snacks and cousins, he might have been disturbed by the whole thing.

(Sorry about cutting off everybody's heads (not literally) in these shots. I swear they were there when I uploaded the photo! Anyway, the important thing is that you can see that everyone is smiling and having a great time.)

Speaking of having a great time, grace got her hands on the camera, and took some shots of her own. (And she's not at all sorry about cutting off heads.)

That same weekend as pageant, we also visited the Erie Zoo and the Strong Museum of Play (again) with cousins. Sam was beyond thrilled to have so much time to spend with that fun bunch of boys. If only they lived closer!

I have a few more things planned before we say goodbye to summer completely, but I feel pretty good about what we've done so far. If we could just figure out that early bedtime thing, I think everything would be just about perfect.

*We've never actually been to Boonshoft, but we learned about it when we lived in Akron. Several of our friends had memberships there, and used the reciprocal membership benefits to get into local zoos and museums. It's a great deal because for the price of family membership (about $100), you get reciprocal benefits at zoos & aquariums, science centers, and children's museums across the country. Check it out if you're interested.

**I should note that Sam might not agree with my description of him as "mostly happy," on account of how I hardly ever say yes when he asks if we can catch the ice cream truck. And we haven't had nearly as many parties, or ventured off as many camping trips as he had planned for the summer. And we always leave his favorite destinations before he's ready. In fact, he'll probably tell you he never gets to have any fun at all. But don't believe him.

"Cheese me!"

2009-08-09T13:32:00.002-05:00

That's what Grace says when she sees me with the camera. And with that face, she usually gets what she wants.

Buffalo Garden Walk (3)

2009-07-29T19:18:00.000-05:00

Buffalo's Garden Walk (2)

2009-07-29T19:11:00.001-05:00

Buffalo's garden walk (1)

2009-07-29T19:09:00.000-05:00

New photos

2009-07-29T18:46:00.001-05:00

Today at work, a friend of mine commented on how old my photos are. When I started at the hospital, I immediately decorated my little cubicle with about 20 photos of my family... which are now pretty faded and worn. Not to mention out of date. So, since I can't be troubled at the moment to *print* photos, at least I can blog this update of what my family now looks like:

Sam: grown up

Grace: suddenly unbald

Boss: prego

Also, please note the Diego and baby jaguar getup for my kids. Sam is very concerned about appropriate attire these days--needs to wear a pirate costume to watch the Dora pirate movie, a fireman costume to go to the fireman movie yesterday, and... well, you see the rest.

Miscellaneous T(uesday)

2009-07-07T14:38:00.011-05:00

I'd call this Ten for Tuesday, but some days all that counting just seems like too much trouble.

Also, does anyone listen to cassette tapes anymore? Cause I don't. Even though there's a tape deck in our van. And when we bought the van more than two years ago I thought "Hey, that's cool. Maybe I'll get reacquainted with all my old tunes." But I never have because I don't know where all my tapes are. I think they're in the attic. I'm sure I didn't throw them out. There's lots of good stuff there. You know, good stuff I haven't listened to in decades, like They Might Be Giants' Miscellaneous T. Good stuff that until moments ago, I didn't even know I missed! And I can't even listen to the Amazon samples just to scratch that nostalgic itch cause Grace is asleep just a few feet away. The torture!

Oh look! Headphones!

Also, I'm not sure why, but listening to TMBG always reminds me of my cousin Wood. I mean, I know Wood likes(ed?) TMBG, but so does (did?) all the other weirdos (myself included) in my family. What's up with that?

Anyway, thinking about Wood reminds me that I discovered recently while reading my old blog entries (cause I'm a dork like that) that I neglected to link to his blog when I made my tacky little announcement a couple months ago. And his cute wife, Woodine, is pregnant, and is definitely one of the cool kids. Apologies to Woodine, and any other cool kids I missed. What do you want? I'm pregnant, I forget things.

Speaking of being pregnant and forgetting things, I don't think I've remembered to tell you we're having another boy. Cheers all around!

The sonographer gave me this completely indecent photograph, just in case anyone asked for proof. Kids don't get mad at their parents for showing off nudie pictures before the kids are even born. Do they?

And here's your more traditional studio shot. Look closely at his profile and you'll notice a resemblance to Grace and Sam (and probably every other baby ever photographed in utero). Cute, huh?

Speaking of cute new arrivals, here's Coach's.

After many years of faithful service, our blue Prizm died. (If you look closely you may be able to see its corpse still taking up half the garage.) Our generous friends, Jason and Amber, loaned us their car while we searched for a replacement. And it's a good thing too, cause our search took forever, mostly because we couldn't decide what we wanted. We (and by "we" I mostly mean Coach, cause I was all "whatever, dude.") swung from "we'll lease a new Prius," to "let's buy this Escort for $700 off craigslist" and back again. In the end, we landed somewhere in the middle, with a 18-year-old (but pampered) Miata. We immediately had to sink $800 into replacing the brakes (which were original to the car), but even at that we feel like we got a good deal. Coach finally enjoys his drive home from work, and even drives the back roads so he can take the top down. And after days like he has, he deserves it.

Speaking of grueling days, imagine what mine are like, spent in this kitchen.

Ignore the mess. And the grinning baby. What I'm referring to is the orange paint on the walls. I've never cared for it much, but lately that mild distaste has turned to raging hatred. It's probably misplaced nesting instincts (I can think of sooo many projects that would be sooo much better for welcoming a new baby. Like, I don't know, mopping the floor or something.), but I am determined that before the end of the summer, this orange will be gone.

But what should I cover it with? This will not be a major kitchen renovation. Just paint, and maybe some curtains. So we have to work with what's already there:

dark toned reddish brown cabinets with gold hardware (I am willing to paint the hardware, if necessary, but not the cabinets)
white shutters and trim

beige-ish laminate counter tops
vinyl checkerboard floor

black appliances

So far, all I've come up with are cream and light beige. Bland, but neutral. I like the idea of pale green or yellow, but I don't think those will work with the current cabinet color. (And cabinet painting is just more involved that I want to get right now.) I'm totally open to suggestions. So start suggesting, already. Comment section is OPEN!

Feeling Itchy

2009-07-05T12:33:00.006-05:00

As some of you may know, I'm quite easily irritated, dermatologically speaking. There are a wide variety of substances that provoke me: fragrances, detergents, mixed metals, weeds, fabric blends. Even hormones get me itchy. Coach teases me because I'll scratch my skin raw, and then spend the next week complaining about that unsightly scab on my schnoz. It's a little ridiculous.

Anyway, the point is, I think it's fair to say that I'm itchier than the average person. And unfortunately, because just about anything -- from a new shampoo to a day in the garden -- can set me off, I've come the see the world as inconveniently full of irritants. EVERYTHING makes me itchy, it seems. I'm probably even allergic to some of you. No offense.

Lucky for me though, I'm definitely not allergic to Coach. It's been seven years now, and as far as Sweetie's concerned, I'm not itchy at all. Not one scratch.

And it's a good thing too, cause seven years is just the beginning.

I love you, sweet Sweetie. Happy anniversary.

PS: Happy anniversary to the Huns (or is it Hons?) also. We love you too!

The Graduate

2009-06-30T19:52:00.000-05:00

So Sam's last day of school was last Tuesday, and I'm pleased to report that it went much better than his first day. For both of us. Seeing him there in his little red hat, clutching his diploma made me want to cry. But I didn't.

I have adorable video of him performing in the group musical numbers. I'm tempted to inflict it upon all of you, but it's dark and shaky and noisy and grainy. And although you can still see his adorable little knee bends and fancy jazz hands through all of that, I realize it's all more endearing to a me than anyone else. (Just as V's sobbing and J's hiding behind her hands were probably adorable to V's and J's respective parents. Poor fools.)

But since I'm sparing you the video, the least you can do is indulge me while I brag: In addition to his construction paper diploma, Sam also received the President's Award for Academic Excellence. Since he was the only one in his class to get it, I figure that pretty much makes him the valedictorian of Pre-K.

They did not ask him to give a speech. But he did shake hands with the principal.

Wanna know the cutest thing about it? He was really more excited about the construction paper diploma prop than that silly little certificate signed by the President. He didn't really understand that he got a special award.

The graduation cap, on the other hand, has made frequent appearances in the week since the ceremony. He wore it all day Saturday as we ran around town, and was congratulated by strangers several times. At one point, he asked "Why do people keep talking to me about graduation when I'm tired of talking?"

I was surprised to hear he was tired of talking about it, because he's been really fascinated with all things graduation lately. When I told him that at Grandma and Grandpa's house there are (probably?) a bunch of REAL graduation caps AND gowns that he can try on next time we visit, he wanted to know the full inventory of color choices, and who wore what. Later he asked how people decide what colors to wear for graduation, and we talked about school colors and mascots and all that. I didn't realize he'd taken the whole discussion so much to heart until a few days later when he told me he didn't want to go to high school. It turned out that he was worried that he'd have to wear a cap & gown in a color he didn't like (i.e. not red), and he thought it best just to avoid that risk altogether. I assured him that it'll all work itself out by the time he's in high school. Maybe he'll go to a school that does have red gowns, or maybe he'll have a different favorite color then. He looked skeptical, but has not made further mention of ending his education after eighth grade.

I'm glad. I think he'd miss out on a lot. Although at the beginning of the year I had reservations about sending him to an all-day-every-day program, I could not have asked for a better year. He made lots of friends and soaked up information like a sponge. His teacher, Mrs. S, is as kind and caring as they come, and welcomed not just her students, but parents and siblings into her classroom as well. Grace and I spent so much time there, in fact, that when the graduates paraded down the aisles of the auditorium, Grace climbed out of her seat and tried to join them. She was antsy throughout the ceremony because she just wanted to get up there with the rest of her class where she thought she belonged. And when each of Sam's classmates stood to receive a diploma, Grace would point out her "friend" on the stage.

I'm a little worried about next year, and the years to come, because we probably won't always luck out with great teachers. But no matter whom or what he encounters, I'm pretty sure Sam has figured out he'll have a better time outside the cubby than in it. And I can't really think of a better life lesson than that. Can you?

Princess Grace

2009-06-27T22:54:00.004-05:00

(And her brother, Sam.)

I'm proud of the AMA

2009-06-17T11:09:00.005-05:00

I just finished an amazing meeting of the American Medical Association. I was elected to a seat on the Council on Science and Public Health, I shook President Obama's hand, and we passed policy that opens the door to a new stance on reform by the AMA.

My campaign was the first really involved campaign I've ever been deeply involved in. There was campaign literature, receptions, lots of hand shaking, and a campaign manager that was so organized it made my jaw drop open more than once. I was elected, by the way, and my man Dave got his pre-election vote counts right within 2%. It was just... remarkable in every way.

As for Obama, that was an experience of a lifetime. As a seated delegate within the House, I was able to sit up front, and as a young person I was able to get in line earlier than most. :-) The result was that I was VERY close to the president. After the last words of his speech were uttered, a rush of people moved toward the barrier just in front of the first row, in order to shake his hand. I climbed over a couple rows of chairs and stuck my arm over some shoulders in order to get my moment, but it worked. I may have lost some dignity and votes in the process, but I just couldn't let the opportunity pass me by. Here is some video and a photo I took with my pocket camera so you can get an idea of what it was like:

Lastly, the AMA passed policy that leaves public options for health system reform a possibly acceptable approach from the AMA's view. This is huge. The organization has long been criticized for obstructing reform, and that's because we're concerned that public systems often elliminate the freedom of physicians to care for their patients as they see fit. I think Obama's speech did a great deal to grease the wheels of progress within the organization. I've met most of the delegates of the AMA in the process of my campaign, and I know first-hand that they have the interests of their patients at the forefront of what they do, rather than their pocketbooks as the press seems to cynically suggest over and over. I'm proud to be involved in organized medicine, because organizations like this can build consensus and do real good for real people. Pass the word along!

Gimme a squeeze, honey bear

2009-05-24T16:41:00.005-05:00

For the past several weeks I've been taking Grace to story time at our local branch library. She loves it. She's the youngest regular attendee, and the more mature 3 and 4-year-olds dote on her like little grandmothers. They hold her hands, help her into her chair, pat her back, play with her hair and talk to her in imitation baby-talk. They're pretty cute.

But the best storytime grandmother is actually an aunt: Aunt Honey Bunny. She brings Josh (the only boy in the group) every week. And every week she has a new delicious treat to share with the kids (and parents). Last week it was hand-made chocolate lollipop ducks. My favorite!

I assume that "Honey Bunny" is not Aunt Honey Bunny's given name, but that's what everyone --library staff included-- calls her. I've thought about asking her real name, but that would wreck the charm. I'd still eat a chocolate lollipop duck from Aunt Mildred or Aunt Hortense, of course, but I'm not sure I'd let Grace have one.

And Grace deserves all the chocolate lollipop ducks she can get. And they shouldn't come from strangers. They should come from YOU! The unchallenged favorite! The envy of aunts and uncles around the globe! Yes, you there, with the catchy avuncular* moniker!

Are you the one? Perhaps. Prove it by submitting your proposed nickname below. The winner will receive a chocolate lollipop duck. And also the privilege of choosing his/her own appellation. Instead of one assigned by me.

Good luck, Uncle Chunky Monkey.

*I'm not trying to be sexist here. It's just that avantular is not a word. Take it up Merriam Webster.

You have questions, I have answers

2009-05-03T11:35:00.007-05:00

Q: All the cool kids are doing it? Isn't that a bit of an exaggeration?
A: Well, yes. I do know a few cool kids who are not, at present, knocked up. But I wouldn't be surprised if they are soon. Cause, seriously, it's an epidemic.

Q: Not to be all nitpicky, but I think you're still exaggerating.
A: You do realize that's not a question, right?

Q: Well, what I mean is, not only are there lots of very cool women who are not pregnant, there are MEN! And they're not pregnant either!
A: Still not a question, but I'll go ahead and answer anyway. Yes, there are lots of very cool women who are not pregnant. And I apologize for any undue pressure I may have put on said cool women to become pregnant. But cool MEN? I'm not sure I know what you're talking about.

Q: All right. Moving on then. So, when are you due?
A: The first week of November. I can't be more specific than that, because keeping track of dates and numbers is more than my addled brain can handle at the moment.

Q: Are you sick?
A: Yep. It's oddly worst in the evenings, which turns out to be pretty convenient because I can make Coach take care the kids while I relax with Judge Judy and a popsicle.

Q: Do you really watch Judge Judy?
A: Yes. And I really don't understand why you don't. That woman is hilarious and terrifying at the same time. I can't think of a single reality show that wouldn't be better with her at the helm. The Apprentice? Finally someone with the guts to fire Donald Trump and his stupid toupee. Supernanny? Naughty kids would put themselves into time out just to escape her scornful glare. And imagine her as a judge on American Idol, or better yet, America's Next Top Model. Can't you just see a the next generation of waifs and popstars sporting lace collars?

Q: Speaking of lace collars, are you hoping for a boy or a girl?
A: Either one. Just not both.

Q: Is that a dollar store pregnancy test?
A: Of course.

Q: What made you take the test? Grumpy? Tired? Just felt a whim?
A: All of the above. Actually, contrary to my usual practice, I did not have a pregnancy test on hand when it first occurred to me that it was time to pee in a cup. So I had to make a special trip to the dollar store to get one. Only, they were out, and Grace was tired of running errands. So I just went on speculating for another couple days, still feeling alternately grumpy, tired and whimish. Finally, I went to a Dollar Tree and bought three. (Do you know they keep them behind the counter now, so you have to ask for them? Apparently there's been a rash of Dollar Store pregnancy test thefts!) But it didn't take three tests to convince me (so I've still got two more in my cupboard if anyone needs them), because those two little lines showed up pretty quickly and clearly. (And because I puked my guts up while I waited for the results.) I realize this is more information regarding the mechanics of acquisition and use of a pregnancy test than anyone could possibly be interested in, so I'll just move on to the next question (which, unfortunately for you, is still on a related topic).

Q: What did Coach say when you told him.
A: "Yay!!! :-)" This is a direct quote, copied from the e-mail he sent in response to the e-mail I sent with this picture.

Q: You used e-mail to tell your husband you were pregnant? What kind of cold, unceremonious barbarian are you?
A: The worst kind. We do a lot of communication via e-mail actually. It's how we keep track of little bits of information we keep meaning to tell each other but never get around to bringing up in conversation.

Q: "Little bits of information"!?! You are a barbarian!
A: I'm not disputing that. But in my own defense, when I found out that I was pregnant Coach happened to be on a two-week business trip. E-mail just made sense.

Q: Oh, alright then. I'll just give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that the news of your other pregnancies was delivered in a more direct and forthright manner.
A: Of course. When I found out I was pregnant with Sam I told Coach in person. (After waiting outside the bathroom door for 20 minutes while he finished reading his new Dell catalog. (It was a really great Dell catalog. (But he was so excited about the news, he put it down to celebrate with me.)))

Q: I see. And Grace?
A: I left the positive pregnancy test on the bathroom counter for him to find when he came home from work. It was hard not to drop any hints, but I kept my cool. It wasn't until he'd been home a couple hours and I KNEW he'd been in the bathroom, that I couldn't contain myself any longer. I asked him what he thought, and he's all "about what?" He hadn't noticed the pregnancy test (despite the fact that I'd cleared all the usual bathroom clutter from the counter so that it had prime positioning). But he certainly was happy when I pointed it out to him.

Q: Are you still typing? How long is this story? Aren't you finished?
A: Almost. I'll just get to the point, which is that given our history, electronic communication is not such a bad way for Coach and me to go. And frankly, I'm a little puzzled by couples who don't e-mail each other frequently. And the ones who share an e-mail address? It's bizarre! Almost weirder than people who don't watch Judge Judy. Why? Why? Why do they do it?

Q: Hey, I'm the one asking the questions here.
A: Oh yeah.

Peer Pressure

2009-04-25T19:14:00.002-05:00

All the cool kids are doing it. (Yes, all of them.)

And I've never been very good at saying no.

What about you? Want to join the party? It's BYOB. (Bring your own baby, that is. Cut it out with the beer already. I'm pregnant, yo!)

Weekend Pictures

2009-04-14T16:02:00.004-05:00

These pictures are not from Easter weekend. We spent most of our time hanging around the house trying not to get puked on, so I didn't bother commemorating it on film. The kids never left the house, and they wore pajamas, not Easter outfits. But I found these great photos from a visit to Ohio last month, just sitting there on the computer waiting to be looked at. So go on. Look!

We spent Sunday afternoon in Kirkland with Grandma and Grandpa. We saw these amazing sculptures on display in the Visitors Center, and then enjoyed a little time in the sun.

And then it was back to Grandma and Grandpa's for story time.

It was one of those perfect days that ended too soon.

Isn't that right, Grace?

Easter Weekend or Confessions from the Gut

2009-04-14T11:24:00.006-05:00

We ran out of dog food on Saturday. It was a busy weekend with company and sick kids, and I didn't get over to the fancy store to buy the fancy dog food preferred by Malcom's delicate digestive system. So when Malcom was hungry Saturday evening I gave him some cooked white rice from the fridge. But then he was hungry again on Sunday, and I still hadn't been shopping. So he got half a leftover grilled pork chop. But this fuzz ball really burns the calories with all that sleeping he does, so last evening I treated him to leftovers from Saturday's breakfast: scrambled eggs with sausage. He enjoyed the indulgences at the time, but he's spent the morning running back and forth between the bed (where he lies, his uncomfortable sighs barely audible over his gurgling tummy) and the back yard (where he eats grass).

This dog's really got to learn when to say when.

Speaking of saying when, I made my Mom's famous orange rolls for Easter dinner on Sunday. For reasons I cannot possibly explain, the dough part of the recipe is written for a batch of 2 dozen rolls, but the glaze makes enough for 4 dozen rolls. It's no big deal, really, because there's no such thing as too much orange glaze. And most of the time you're cooking for a holiday crowd and you're better off doubling the dough for 4 dozen rolls anyway. (Do not think you can get by with just two-a-piece of these babies.) But the point is that every time I pull out the recipe to make it I'm forced to make a mathematical choice: do I half all the ingredients for the sauce section, or double the dough section? Our Easter crowd was small (5 adults, 2 sick kids), so I knew I didn't need 4 dozen deliciously sweet and fattening rolls. But I wanted to take Easter treats to some friends, and who wouldn't want fresh (possibly warm) sweet rolls? It's hardly any more trouble to make 4 dozen than 2, so it's a no brainer, right?

Right. Until Sunday afternoon/evening. When I started feeling poopy just like the kids, and knew I wasn't getting out to make deliveries. And Monday was out because I still felt poopy. Plus these rolls are really tastiest within the first 24 hours. And who's going to want baked goods from a house afflicted with all sorts of digestive maldies? Not you, that's who! (You're welcome.)

And so, none of the extra 3 dozen or so rolls made it out the door. I won't tell you where they did make it, but I will tell you there are only three (3!) left. And I will tell you that I will miss them when they're gone.

And now, I'm off to the back yard to eat some grass.

Viva pinata vs. smash and pound the candy asap

2009-04-03T13:00:00.010-05:00

I'm addicted to an xbox game, and while this alone is a somewhat embarrassing thing for a guy to say who is smack dab in the middle of a 5 year medical residency training program (think of all the medical facts I could have memorized!), it's exponentially more embarrassing that the game is a simulation of gardening. Gardening while collecting cute little animals. Animals made of paper and stuffed with candy.

I wish I were making this up.

I do take some comfort from reviews I've read in which a general phenomenon has been noticed where otherwise hard core gamers who love to snipe, assassinate, strategize, and otherwise exhibit... erm... manly attributes, seem to also be taken by this game and wrapped up in setting up their garden to attract yet one more species of pinata. So, I'm not alone in this.

I initially got the game for Sam for Christmas, and he really likes it too (when a grown man and his 4 year old son fight for the controller, you know you've got some serious family bonding going on). We can play together in this game, but the person running the secondary controller really doesn't get to make any decisions... that person just gets to go around the garden doing the chores like planting and watering things. The theory among the developers, I assume, was that a 4 year old child would feel great about helping out and participating in a game that otherwise his father could make a lot more interesting. Poor poor fools.

Sam's turn goes something like this: he'll create a new garden and get really excited when the first resident, a worm, is attracted into his garden. The requirement to have a worm come from the wild and move into your garden is that there is some dirt there. This is not only achievable, but nearly impossible to unachieve, so most gamers would want to move past this point. But not Sam. Sam wants nothing more than to attract as many worms into his garden as is humanly possible, keep them happy, make their garden as palatial and posh as possible, and keep anything else out.

I've pondered why he's not particularly interested in the other hundred or so [more] interesting species, and I've got a theory. There is some similarity between the worm (called a whirlm in the game because of its spinning and rolling through the garden... and which I thought was whirim because we don't have HDTV... which Boss won't let me get... because she's cruel) and a creature from a Backyardigans episode called a worman that Sam became enamored with shortly before we got the game.

My turn, on the other hand, is spent trying to sort out all the cool things you can do to get high level stuff to come to your garden, tricky ways to use garden items to make a cool design, and change the color and look of things to just... well, be impressive looking. It's the designer in me, I guess. And I do like gardens, after all. And animals. It is harder to go for that subtle look I want with my son constantly insisting that things would look a whole lot better if I'd just position a worm house prominently in the center. Or better yet, sell the lot and get several worm houses. We've come to an arrangement in which he interrupts my turn every time a new whirlm wanders into my garden to demand that I crate it up and send it to him. Which I do.

A Dad's xbox vice is distinguished from a 4 year old's because I think it's kind of fun to track down and talk to the game developers online, find cheats that make me feel clever, and make him go to bed early so I can play the game longer. :-) Sam is better at enjoying the simplicity of caring for a few good worms with a carefully selected cohort of toys, and his satisfaction at navigating the whirlm's romance maze or attracting yet another plain orange pinata to his collection of 24, is quite an example of simplified contentment.

And really, I just like that we like some of the same stuff.

Where's Waldo

2009-03-22T22:41:00.002-05:00

You'll never find him. Go ahead and try. (Hint: He's got his head down, trying to look nonchalant.)

Still can't see him? Try this one.

Or this one might be easier.

OK, Fine. I'll just tell you. He's right there in front, in the striped sweater.

Doesn't he look warm? It's a good thing, too, because ever since "Waldo" here got his spring haircut he's been shaking and shivering. (I guess it's a little early in the year for a buzz cut.) I felt sorry enough for him this afternoon that I dug this sweater out of the back of Grace's closet. She's long since outgrown it, of course, but as soon as she figured out what I had planned she wanted to wear it herself. (I'll admit it looked pretty adorable on her too, way back then. (Sorry, you'll have to scroll. It's a long one.)) But I soon convinced her that playing dress up with the dog is much more fun.

And it is!

I may have created a monster.

A warm, fuzzy monster.

Declaration of Independence

2009-03-19T07:19:00.002-05:00

It's not surprising that Grace has her own opinions about fashion. Sam has been coaching her in these matters for a long time now. But now that she's actually able to get her clothes on (mostly) by herself, we'll probably be seeing more interesting ensembles like this one.

As you can see, this skirt is as functional as it is stylish. And I think the tails in both front and back add a little special something.

On a related note, Sam went to school today wearing layers: navy blue shorts over black sweat pants, paired with a long-sleeved striped blue shirt under a flashing light Wall-E t-shirt. Oh, and red rubber boots. I don't even bother with the gentle suggestions anymore. Why not let his teachers have a good laugh every now and then?

Five for Friday

2009-03-13T08:18:00.005-05:00

1. So I have more than a couple 10 for Tuesday/Thursday/Wheneverday entries saved in my draft file. I thought about compiling them all into one giant catch-up issue for today, but it turns out they're all out of date and out of context. And this blog is nothing if not context. More context than you could ever possibly want. So here it it, fresh and tasty for Friday, with no stale observations about the presidential election or Christmas shopping. Christmas is so 2008!

2. Speaking of stale holidays, a full four weeks ago we went to a ward Valentine's Day party. Sam brought home a heart shaped helium balloon, which is still fully inflated, skimming the ceiling as I type. I'll admit it's kind of cool to see it hanging in there for so long, but its longevity has ruined my credibility. With all of the balloons through all the years, Sam and I have had that tough talk about how things just don't last forever. We've mourned helium, noble as it is, always escaping the confines of its flimsy balloon home. But here's this pesky balloon, exposing me as an atomic ignoramus. It's embarrassing.

3. Speaking of uncooperative balloons, here's another one. We were at a family carnival put on by the folks at Hunter's Hope a couple weekends ago. There was food, face painting, and at the end of a long line of screaming children accompanied by irritable parents, a trio of balloon twisting clowns. We waited for quite a while to get Sam's sword and Grace's long-stemmed daisy, but once we had them both children were fully satisfied. We immediately had the "balloons don't last forever/I don't want to hear any tantrums when that thing pops" discussion, and the children went on their merry, balloon-bopping way.

Soon enough, it was time time head home. Predictably, our children were not happy about this news, and began to voice minor protests. I assured them it really was time, and began to approach Grace with her coat. With the frightening fury of a two-year-old, she screamed "NOOOOOO!" and hit me with her balloon flower. It immediately popped. While Grace wailed in disappointment, I turned the other way and cracked up. (I don't want to encourage her bad behavior by laughing at it, you know, but sometimes karma has its own (hilarious) lesson planned.) When I finally composed myself again, I helped my crestfallen daughter into her coat, muttered something wise like "and that's why we don't hit mommy with our toys."

I couldn't help but notice Sam was pretty quick to get his own coat on, without the usual protests.

4. Can you believe it, I have another balloon story? So a couple nights later, Sam and I were snuggling through his bedtime routine. He's got a keen interest in law enforcement, so he's always asking questions about criminals. This particular evening, he was worried about bad guys breaking into our house and stealing our stuff. I told him that that wasn't very likely: we keep our lights on and our doors locked, and our fuzzy motion detector always lets us know when there's someone approaching the house. Most importantly, we don't really have anything valuable for someone to want to steal. Full of earnest concern, he asked, "But what about my balloon sword? That's valuable." I agreed, snuggling him a little closer so he couldn't see me laughing, and assured him that he still didn't need to worry about it.

5. This one's not about balloons, but it's got Sam at bedtime. So, when Coach is out of town, I sometimes let the kids sleep in my bed with me. It's usually pleasant and cuddly sweet, but on one particular night a couple weeks ago, the kids just would not settle down. After more than an hour of their bickering, wrestling, and kicking me in the head, I finally lost it and told them both to lie down and go to sleep immediately. I issued the famous "I don't want to hear another sound out of either of you," threat and grumpily punched my pillow back into shape. Their immediate silence only made me feel more guilty about losing my temper. So a few minutes later, I apologized for yelling. I asked Sam, "Do you know how much I love you? I love you so much."

He said, "Yeah, but there's something more important."

"Oh, what's that?" I asked.

"You're not allowed to yell like that in the house. Never do that again."

He's right. He's been reminded many times about outside voices and inside voices, and I definitely used an outside voice. I just hope that my chuckling did not make my apology sound insincere. Because I really was sorry. That kid really is sweet.

6. Speaking of my sweet kids, both of them are sick. Grace is recovering from what the doctor called a "raging" double ear infection, and Sam has pneumonia. I feel bad (as in, cruelly negligent) that they both got so sick, but they're both doing better after a couple days of antibiotics. And I know that's just how life goes. Balloons pop, kids get sick.

But here's the part I'm still having trouble with, and the part where I really need advice from experienced parents. I'm paralyzed with ambivalence about the whole school situation. I kept him home for a couple days before I even took him to the doctor because he spent so much of the night coughing, and was just exhausted in the morning. When I finally did take him to the doctor, she said he could go back "whenever he's up for it." The trouble is, in the morning, he's never "up for it," and even on the best of days it takes considerable prodding to get him dressed and out the door. So two days this week I conceded that he needed extra rest and let him sleep until he woke up on his own, and then took him in to school. I got the usual disapproving looks from the ladies in the office for bringing him in late, but whatever. I'm the mom, right? My kid is sick. I'll do what's best for him. But then he comes home at the end of the day completely exhausted, and I think perhaps what's best for him might be to just let him stay home. But when I've done that (like today), by mid-morning he's planning parties, building forts and generally acting well enough to be at school. When I ask him, he's always too sick to go to school. He's only four. I don't want him thinking I'll spend the next 14 years falling for that trick. But on the other hand, he is only four. There's no need for me to be a cruel drill sargeant mommy, forcing him back to school when he's still got that eject-a-lung timbre to his cough.

So what's the right policy here?

7. Speaking of policies, what are the rules on counting to 7 when you're only shooting for 5? I should call this good and say I'm done, but there are a couple more things I've been meaning to tell you in one of these random conglomerate posts.

8. I've got a couple new blogs. This one was started by my friend Amber to compile and share the great deals she's sleuthed up for the good folks here in The Buff (although the fully-clothed are welcome to enjoy the savings as well). I'm practically the cheapest person she knows, so she invited me to blog there too. Watch for exciting posts on my beloved Yogurt Store and other great money ~~wasting~~ saving destinations.

I started this one a few months ago as sort of a creative journal for my jewelry making. Like everything else in my life, it's a work in progress. But it's really fun, actually, and I'm surprised at how much I enjoy the creative process of recording my creative process.

So feel free to visit at either of my new homes. Or visit my old/nearly defunct group homes for keeping track of angry grudges and weight loss. (Both of these are open to new contributors, so e-mail me if you're interested.) But don't worry, the human resources department will never let me out of my contract here, so Meaty Chunks will always be my primary bloggy residence.

9. Speaking of bloggy residences, thanks for visiting mine. I like it when you come over. We should do this more often.

Update

2009-03-09T06:35:00.003-05:00

I'm not naming pseudonyms, but one of the first five commenters on the previous post does not officially win a First Five Handmade Item, seeing as how he lives with me and gets handmade dinner practically every night, and handmade cookies more often than is good for either of us. Now, if only I could convince him to wear that handmade sparkly bow tie . . .

Anyway, the point is there's room for one more.

Don't all comment at once. It jams up the server.

February 28

2009-03-08T15:39:00.007-05:00

Sam loves a good countdown. He's always asking me questions like "How many days till Halloween?" and "How many more days of school until I can be a rescue worker?" Maybe he just got tired of the answer always being in the hundreds/thousands/millions, because recently he's started inventing his own reasons for more immediate celebration.

February 28, for example. I think he must have heard about it at school, how February is a special month with only 28 days. For whatever reason, that date got stuck in his head, and he started asking for frequent countdown updates. I'd show him where we were on the calendar, and how many days it would take to get to February 28. He had me write the words "THIS IS A PARTY" in that day's box. He referred to it daily.

In the days leading up to the 28th, he talked about what he planned for his party. He came up with a guest list. He thought about presents. (He decided they'd be a surprise: jewelry for me, and a yellow tie for Coach.) He'd ask, "Aren't you going to be surprised when I give you your presents? Isn't that nice of me to make you presents?"

He wrote lists.
(I think "FRI" was going to be "FRIENDS," but he got distracted.)

When the day finally arrived, he spent the morning talking about how much there was to do to get ready for the party (see list). Not listed, but still a high priority, was making decorations. I gave him a pair of scissors and a stack of colored paper, and he cut these flags out all by himself.

I showed him how to use the hole punch and then string the triangles onto ribbon. Then all that was left was hanging it up. He told me precisely where he wanted it to go.

In the end, it might not have been exactly the party he had in mind. (His beloved Abygail wasn't able to make it, and he briefly considered canceling the whole thing.) But we had a great turnout otherwise -- both my friends and his. (Coach was out of town, so he didn't get to invite anyone.) And I think everyone had a good time. While the grown ups sat around chatting and making jewelry, the kids played. There was great food. And all the ladies went home with something pretty.

Sam already has several more parties planned for the next few weeks. I'm glad, because Coach has a busy travel schedule this spring, and all this partying will give both me and Sam something to look forward to.

So put your party hats on and get over here. You're totally on the list. And Sam's counting down.

First Five/ Pass it On/ Love Chain

2009-03-07T13:47:00.003-06:00

Since I'm all about being crafty lately, I took B's bait and jumped at the chance to be one of her first five.

Here's the deal:

The first five people to respond to this post will get something handmade by me!

My choice. For you. This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:

1. I guarantee that you will like what I make for you. 100% satisfaction or your money back.
2. What I create will be just for you. A surprise!
3. I'll do it when I'm good and ready (but before 2010).
4. I reserve the right to do something extremely strange. It might be fuzzy. It might be edible. It might have sparkles. It might be lame.
5. Most importantly, pass it on. The first 5 people to comment on your blog get something made by YOU! If you’re not the kind of person that wants to make something tangible for others, how about some kind of service for them, any type, any size?
6. Come back and blog about it -- what you made, what you got. All that.

Ready? Go!

Crafty

2009-03-07T10:07:00.011-06:00

I've been feeling pretty crafty lately. It's partly because of recent splurges at a nearby Jo Ann Fabric store that went out of business. Despite its dwindling inventory, I managed to spend hundreds of dollars on assorted fabrics, notions and beading supplies over the last couple months. A lot of that went to insulated curtains for our drafty house, but I'll admit there were a few things in the cart just for me. Anyway, I got lots of great deals, and I can count it as money well-spent as long as I use the stuff, not just add it to my stash.

So I've started work on some projects that have been on my list for a while.

Like these bags. Coach goes to lots of conferences and brings home bags that look like this:

There are variations on this theme of course (sometimes it's a backpack!), but basically we have at least a dozen black satchel-sized bags that advertise for some professional organization or pharmaceutical creation. Because I can't stand to let anything go to waste, I've been trying come up with ways to use these bags without being a walking advertisement for Pfizer. (Just say no to pharmaceutical swag!)

Here are my first two attempts, still not complete, but well on their way to being totally drug free.

The first one is Sam's new backpack for school. His original backpack (also swag -- but this one from pre-k registration in August) was totally thrashed. It had about 14 pockets, and the zipper pull on every single one of them was broken. Finally, the zipper on the main compartment stopped closing altogether. When Sam came home from school last week with his backpack inside a plastic grocery bag, I decided it might be time to come up with something else.

I had attached the road ribbon and the car buttons to his first backpack at the beginning of the year because I assumed every child in his class would have identical (free) backpacks. (Turns out most of the other parents are not as cheap as I am. Or they were smart enough to throw that piece of trash in the trash right away.) Anyway, I wanted Sam to have something cute, and easily identifiable as his. So we went to the fabric store, and he helped me pick out some fun buttons.

When it was time to move to the new backpack, he wanted to move the car buttons over, plus add a few more transportation related decorations from my sewing stash. I agreed, and even suggested I could stitch on some train tracks for the colorful little train engines he'd picked out. He was excited about that idea, so I started to work. Unfortunately, I did not get instructions regarding the specific placement and orientation of said train tracks, and made the mistake of stitching them in a diagonal line, because I thought it was cute.

Sam disagrees. He wants the trains to "drive straight, not on a hill!"

I can't decide whether to honor his artistic vision for his own backpack and take the stitches out, or insist that since I already put time and effort into making his backpack special the stitches will stay. So in the meantime I've done nothing, hoping perhaps the whole thing will blow over.

Things didn't look promising after his first day back to school with it. When I asked if the kids at school liked his new backpack he said: "Yeah, but they think the train tracks should be straight." I know the kids in his class pretty well, and asked who specifically didn't like the slanting track. He said, "All of them."

It's been a few days since then, and there hasn't been further mention of the offensive train route through Backpack Town, so perhaps it might be safe for me to resume work.

In the meantime, I've been working on a bag of my own.

This project is an example of serendipitous mishaps. Initially, my plan was just to use the damask print fabric (from a shirt purchased on a clearance rack for $1.50. I loved the print, but it looked really really bad on me. So I bought two.) to cover the offending panel. But because I don't actually know what I'm doing, I had a really hard time sewing the panel to the outside pocket without catching the lining of the bag in the stitches underneath. After several attempts, I decided to try free form machine quilting instead. I've seen this technique used by quilters who actually know what they're doing, and I love it. I'm not a quilter, but I got a beginning quilt book and some encouragement from Peanut and Mom a couple months ago, and according to the quilt book this technique is "easy and fun." So I thought, "why not?"

It turned out to be neither easy nor fun. And it looked stupid. And the stitches were small and hard to take out. So I decided to try disguising my blunders with buttons. And then that looked dumb. So I tried balancing out the buttons with colorful embroidery. At first I was just making matters worse, with huge clumsy french knots and crooked stitches. But then it all started to come together, and I really started to love the design. Since then, I've been hand-stitching every change I get. It's time consuming, but I do it while I watch TV or listen to a book and it's really pretty relaxing. Who knew?

Anyway, I'd still like to figure out free form machine quilting at some point (I know it has something to do with those pesky feed dogs, but my sewing machine manual is not talking.) but until then I think I'll just go with hand stitching. (It would have saved me a lot of time and frustration if I'd just tried that in the beginning. Oh well!)

Here's another blunderful project I recently completed. I was the item-of-the-month for our relief society enrichment craft group, headed by the talented Mackenzie (check out her photo to see where I should have put those ears!) I tried to follow all of Martha's instructions, but I still ended up with a creature that looks more like a dog than a lamb.

To add injury to insult, this lamb (apparently) recently underwent cranial surgery, as evidenced by the awkward scar of stitches at the back of her head. (Due to the graphic nature of the photographs, the scar itself will not be shown here.) But she's sortof cute from a certain angle, and I like her perky pink bow. Grace, lover of all animals even the deformed ones, affectionately calls her "Baaa." Sam, who doesn't care much for stuffed animals, but does like presents (especially ones given to his sister and not to him), wants to know when I'll be finished with his lamb. I kind of want to tell him "never." But this does seem like the type of project that will get much easier after a couple tries, so I may just give it another go.

As long as we're on the topic of fuzzy pink creatures, here's this backpack Grace got for Christmas.
I didn't make it. All I did was add the pink ribbon straps. But I love it because it was exactly the kind of thing I was looking for. And I had looked at many stores both online and in person, and couldn't find a suitable toddler backpack at a price I was willing to pay. I ended up finding this insulated lunch bag on a clearance rack at Shopko during our visit to Logan in December. It was surprisingly easy to open the stitching and slide in the ribbon, which was leftover from the curtains I made for Grace's room. All totaled, this little gift cost less than $5. And I would have paid a lot more than that for how much Grace loves it.

Here's my own bag makeover. I didn't think to take a picture before, so you'll just have to use your imaginations. Here it is after.

I found this purse for $2 at a thrift store. I liked it because it looked cute on the outside, but also had great internal architecture, with open pockets big enough for diapers and a container of wipes, plus smaller compartments to save me the trouble of dumping out the whole bag just to find my chapstick. I didn't realize until I got the purse home, however, that the lining of the was shredded. So much for compartmentalization!

I thought about tossing the purse right back in the Goodwill box, but then decided to try re-lining it. I probably wouldn't have bothered if I hadn't remembered a conversation with my creative friend Rozannah, who has a knack for disassembling stuff that's old and worn and turning it into something adorably unique and stylish. I asked her about a car seat cover she'd made this way, and she said it really wasn't that hard, just time consuming.

So I did it! I took apart the purse and disassembled the lining. Then, using the lining pieces as patterns, I cut a new lining in this pretty striped fabric, purchased as a remnant for 75 cents. (There's an even better story here. Before Christmas, I went to Jo Ann's specifically looking for a remnant to use to line this purse. I found this very print in the remnant bin, but because it came from a fancy decorator bolt, it was still about $7 for the piece, more than I wanted to pay for my experimental little project. I didn't find anything I liked better, so this project stayed on the back burner until about six weeks ago, when I heard that this Jo Ann store was going out of business. I stopped in to discover that they'd marked down ALL their remnants, including the stripey one I'd coveted weeks earlier, to 75 cents each. I didn't want this little fabric swatch to be lonely, so I bought pretty much everything left in the remnant bin. Can you believe how much money I saved?!)

Anyway, attaching the new lining to the purse took some trial and error (turns out it's important to do these things in the right order!), but it really wasn't that hard. In the end, I'm very happy with my $2.75 purse. My only regret is that the shell itself is not very sturdily made, and will probably fall apart long before the new lining does.

Here's another bag (what's with all the bags?) made from a copied pattern. My mom passed along a Christmassy gift bag that one of her friends had given to her. She knows me pretty well, and thought I'd enjoy copying the idea. So I did.

This bag is now home to a band of Ikea finger puppets that I purchased many months ago to give as a shower gift. But then I couldn't stand to part with them, and thought they'd make good quiet toys for church. (Cause heaven knows my kids need quieter amusements.) But then I realized it'd be nearly impossible to play with these without making animal noises. And what's the point of whispering, "ROAR!"? So the whole lot went into my sewing basked to wait for a home and a purpose.

OK, one last project. This one epitomizes why I keep a stash in the first place.

I purchased this picture frame/tray from a thrift store way back when we lived in Iowa (circa 2004). I wasn't sure exactly what I'd do with it, but I loved the frame and I kind of liked the green flapper girl print inside it. She ended up hanging on the wall in three homes, even though Coach never really liked her.
Enter designer fabric swatches purchased from Jo Ann's closeout sale for 50 cents each!

Here's the part I love: I used my new rotary cutter (purchased at Jo Ann's closeout sale for $8) to trim the fabric, which I attached with double sided carpet tape (purchased for $1 at the Yogurt Store*) to the backer board (which I was given free from an art store scrap pile) which I nailed to the frame with decorative brads (25 cents a pack at Big Lots) that were a little too long and had to be trimmed with my heavy duty (but disappointingly dull) craft wire cutters (Dollar Tree, $1). Each one of these items (well, except the rotary cutter) has been in my stash for a while. I pick up this stuff, halfway feeling guilty for acquiring stuff I don't really need, but knowing that it might come in handy some time. And then I spontaneously decide to do a project rightnow!, and I (surprisingly) have everything I need on hand. And I get it all done in less than an hour. And it looks much prettier on my buffet than that flapper ever did on my wall.

And the whole thing only cost me $295.00 at Jo Ann's closeout sale. What a bargain!

*Yogurt Store: That's another post. This one's long enough already.

Amazing Grace

2009-02-26T18:56:00.001-06:00

I'll admit it. I've been putting this off. I'm a sentimental ninny, so writing these birthday tributes is always a bit intense, emotionally speaking. Just sorting through pictures and memories of the people I love turns my insides to goo. The nostalgia gets so thick in the air it makes my eyes water. I'm not saying this is unpleasant; it's just that I have to be in the right mindset. For my own kids, though, the mental preparation is even harder. Not only do I have to comb through the archives of adorableness, but I have to come to grips with the fact that my kids -- my own flesh and blood! -- are growing up. With or without my permission.

I didn't realize the true depth of my denial until yesterday, when my friend Natalie playfully (and accurately) observed that Gracie was getting a little big to be called a baby. Now, you should know that I love Natalie's guts, and I'd gladly ~~change a stinky blowout~~ take a bullet for her. But just then I wanted to throw her into a chokehold and keep her down until she took it back. I didn't though, because deep down I knew that she was right.

At two years, two weeks and two days old, Grace has quite thoroughly shed her baby ways, and is a full-fledged little girl. You can see it all right there: The flowing locks, the impish grin, that self-satisfied awareness that the camera is aimed at her. And it's not just that she's lost her baby look. She runs, climbs, jumps, steals, teases and copies Sam's every move. Her facial expressions betray complex thoughts like "I wonder if I can get that apart" and "my mom's an idiot." She's a formidable tantrum thrower. She has her own favorite licensed characters. Perhaps most impressive, she asks for what she wants with words, with new ones arriving every day.

But with a kid like Grace, you can't say it all with words. You need pictures.

Luckily, we have hundreds and hundreds saved on our hard drive. And as I sorted through them, I was struck at how well her personality can be captured on (digital) film.

Look here, for example.
Grace loves animals. With exuberance. Malcom is her most frequent target, but she'll gladly harass anything with fur. Or feathers. Just before Halloween we went to a local farm with a small petting zoo. There were the usual animals, plus those vending machines full of pellets to feed them. Gracie quickly used up every last one of her pellets, and then Sam's. And then she scrounged some off the ground. When those were gone, she took apple slices from her own lunch, and the apple peels discarded from Sam's and fed those to the animals. I was a little worried that she'd get nipped through the fence. But all she got was a huge grin on her face every time a furry friend came near. In the end I had promise her a cookie to get her away from the goats. (And even then, she probably only came because the thought she'd have a chance to sneak back and give the goats half.)

She's good at sharing. But she'd even better at eating. Cookies, of course, but pretty much everything else too.
Unlike some other children I know, she'll cheerfully eat anything I put before her. And while her cohort is busy complaining that his meal is too spicy/mushy/sour/orange, she's cleaned her plate and wants "moey." She's such a good eater, in fact, that I had trouble coming up with a menu for her special birthday dinner a couple weeks ago. She just likes everything. I rattled off a list of options (pizza, spaghetti, broccoli, chicken, corn, peaches, applesauce), and she said yes to every one of them. I finally settled on home-made mac & cheese, steamed broccoli, applesauce, and juice boxes. I must have guessed right, because when Grace came to the table she literally cheered. At that moment, I would have given her anything she asked for.

And what did she ask for?

Broccoli.
One of her favorite activities is to stand on a chair next to me while I work in the kitchen. She helps me roll out dough, sampling unbaked wads when she can. She adds ingredients, stirs pots, and (of course) licks spoons.

Here she is helping me clean up after a baking extravaganza. With every lick of the bowl she yelled "mmmmm," even though the residue was just cream of chicken soup. (This series of photos is best appreciated when flipped through quickly in a photo viewer, but maybe if you move your eyes really fast you can get the same effect.)

This willingness to clean up occasionally puts us at odds with each other. Like the time last week at McDonalds, when some innocent jostling overturned her bottle of chocolate milk. Not one to cry at such tragedies, Grace simply climbed under the booth and began slurping up the puddle. The good news is she inadvertently mopped most of the mess up with her shirt before she even got her mouth into position. But she did get in a couple good gulps before I swooped in with the extra napkins. Eventually I persuaded her to use those (not her tongue) to help me clean the mess up.

So, she's not afraid to get her hands dirty. Or her face. Or her hair. Or her clothes. Or her digestive tract. Makes you want to just snuggle right up to her, doesn't it?

And here's where the misty eyes and guts-of-goo come in. Because no matter how sticky those fingers get, no matter how many tantrums the day may bring, she's still as affectionate and cuddly as, well, as a baby. And even though she's all grown up now, nearly every night stillends like this:
And it doesn't get any better than that.

Happy birthday, sweet Gracie-Ku. I love you!

Grace's words at two

2009-02-26T06:47:00.000-06:00

no
stop
mine!
uh oh
please
tv (tt)
show
doggie
meow
moo
baaa
mommy
daddy
Sam (Nam)
monkey (ooo ooo oooh!)
tickle
eye
nose
ear
ouch
sore (zoey)
more (moey)
why
car
shoe
go
star
moon
where go (dere dough?)
what's that (da dat?)
eat
drink ("d" with baby sign)
cookie
treat
milk
orange
duck
butterfly
pretty
hair
ding dong
hush
book
boot
juice
help
pacifier (wubby)
kitty
wow
ta daa!
baby
zip
choo choo
hi

My funny valentine

2009-02-14T09:30:00.013-06:00

When Sam was just a couple months old we took a family trip to Chicago. He saw most of the city from his Bjorn, and hardly complained at all when strangers gooed and cooed and pinched his adorable little baby face. (Look at that face. Can you blame them?)

There was one woman in particular who really got Sam grinning. She worked for a company that runs tour boats along the Chicago River. As we purchased our tickets, she fussed and flirted. As we waited for departure, she flirted and fussed. As we boarded the boat, she fussed and flirted, all the while proclaiming, "Oooh, this boy likes the wimmens!"

We didn't know then how right she was. Sam's what you might call a ladies man; his best friends have always been girls (or, if you're Sam "garrils").

It all began with MJ. She was cute and coy, and she laughed at all his jokes.

Unfortunately, she was also his first cousin. And she lived hundreds of miles away. So there wasn't much of a future there, despite those dazzling golden curls.

So Sam moved on to Ella. We met Ella's family soon after we moved to Ohio, and we all became fast friends. But I didn't realize the extent of Sam's devotion until our ward Halloween party. They were inseparable.
In fact, at the end of the evening, when everyone was heading to their cars, the two of them stood at the top of the stairs that led to the parking lot unwilling to move. They'd have to separate to get down the stairs (Ella was wearing wooden shoes, so walking solo was awkward enough!), but Sam did not want to let of of Ella's hand.

It was hard to leave Ella (and the rest of her family) behind when we moved to Buffalo.

But before long, Sam found Alli. (He called her "the new Ella" at first). Since then, we've had lots of fun play dates with Alli and her family, including one to the Buffalo Botanical Garden, where this three-year-old duo got "married." I think the wedding was Allison's idea, but Sam certainly did not object, especially since the ceremony consisted mostly of running around the gardens hand-in-hand.

Oh, and also a little mid-winter dip in the fountain. Splish splash!

But sooner or later, three-year-olds turn four. And that meant Sam was off to school, where he met a little girl named Claire. Her name came up often, and she seemed to be at the center of all his classroom interactions. I'd ask, "Did you make any new friends at school today?" And he'd answer "No. I just like Claire."

A couple months into the school year his teacher, Mrs. S, told me that he told her he was "in love with Claire." Mrs. S told Sam that people usually wait until they're a little older to fall in love, but Sam insisted. "She's the prettiest girl in the class!" he said. Mrs. S couldn't argue with that, so she let the subject drop.

One subject that is not likely to drop anytime soon is that Sam does not see enough of his current flame, Abygail. No party is fun, no gathering is complete, no outing is satisfactory without sweet, spunky Abygail. More than once he's told me, "Mom, I really love Abygail." And I believe him. He makes up stories about her. He draws pictures for her. He sets aside his favorite clothes to wear on days that he plays with her. His great scheme is for Abygail (and her family) to move into our guest room so that he can play with her EVERY DAY.

(I extended the invitation, but Abygail's mom said no thanks. 100 square feet isn't enough room for six people? Whatever!)

So Sam may "love the wimmens," but day-to-day, I guess Sam is just stuck with me. And to tell you the truth, that's kind of how I like it: my funny little man, all to myself.

To all the girls I've loved before

2009-02-14T09:12:00.003-06:00

Happy Valentine's Day

Because she can't let Sam get all the photographic attention

2009-02-08T09:21:00.001-06:00

Grace wanted in on it too.

PS: When Sam saw Grace's dress, he declared it "the most beautiful dress in the world." I disagreed: Not until we get those tacky bows off.

Because he heard Abercrombie was on the search for pre-k models

2009-02-06T11:43:00.003-06:00

Sam demanded a photo shoot in his new Easter suit.

Credits: Wardrobe by JC Penney. Wardrobe styling by Sam. Fuzziness by Malcom. Photography by Coach.

Resolutions

2009-01-03T11:27:00.007-06:00

So the other night, after an evening of "light snacks" with friends turned into an all out junk-fest (I blame Amber. She brought the cheese ball. And the punch. And the eclairs. And the lil' smokies. And we all know there's just no stopping the lil' smokies.), Coach commented that our New Year's resolutions were not off to a very good start. With some dismay, Jason (husband of Amber the Saboteur) asked, "You guys make New Year's resolutions?"

The conversation veered in another direction or a child fell off a chair or something, because I don't think we ever got back to Jason's question. Or the next question, which surely would have followed: Why was Jason so surprised? Because we're so perfect in every way that any effort at self improvement is unnecessary? Or because we're so lazy in every way that any effort at self improvement is futile? I have my suspicions, but only Jason can say for sure.

Either way, I feel compelled to state unequivocally that we here at Meaty Chunks do have resolutions for 2009. And here they come.

________________________

Resolution Number 1: For the Reduction of Household Chunkiness

WHEREAS The Head of Human Resources ("Malcom") for the family entity known as Meaty Chunks, Inc. ("The Family") gained three pounds between yearly visits to the veterinarian; and

WHEREAS Malcom's weight gain was not due to extreme pre-haircut fuzziness as the Female Parental Leader ("Boss") suspected (see exhibit A below); and

WHEREAS The veterinarian said that this increase was "not good;" and

WHEREAS Boss did not ask but is pretty sure that if you multiply that three pounds by ten and put it on a human over a period of 18 months, that weight gain is also "not good;" and

WHEREAS Boss's favorite jeans, which used to be comfortable, no longer allow allow an acceptable range of full and necessary motion; and

WHEREAS They're not particularly flattering either; therefore be it

RESOLVED That The Family will hereby halt its steady increase in chunkiness; and also be it

RESOLVED That Boss will decrease chunkiness in proportion to meatiness.

Exhibit A

Resolution Number 2: For the Reduction of Household Tardiness

WHEREAS The Male Child ("Sam") attends school weekday mornings; and

WHEREAS Sam loves school but is not a morning person; and

WHEREAS Boss can't say she's much of a morning person either, but

WHEREAS school is important, even the Pre-K kind; and

WHEREAS Catching the bus is more trouble than it's worth in the winter when the schedule is erratic and the wind is cold; and

WHEREAS When Boss drives Sam to school she must also walk him to his classroom; and

WHEREAS The Female Child ("Grace") must come too; and

WHEREAS If Sam is not in his classroom on time he misses breakfast; and

WHEREAS The front doors to the school are closed and locked when the morning bell rings; and

WHEREAS Children who are tardy must ring a buzzer at the side door and wait to be let into the building and then go to the office and get a tardy slip for the teachers to ignore and discard; and

WHEREAS the office ladies scold and lecture students who enter the building at the same time as The Family; and

WHEREAS they never say anything to Boss but do look at her sternly to suggest that she is a bad bad bad mom; therefore be it

RESOLVED that Boss will get Sam to school on time; and let it be also

RESOLVED that Boss will acknowledge her responsibility to leave the house with time to spare to allow for inevitable delays including by not limited to: belligerent toddlers, bloody noses, runaway dogs, inoperable vehicles, diaper blow-outs, and snowy driveways.

The above Resolutions shall take effect immediately. The provisions of these Resolutions shall be severable, and if any portion is declared by the Department of Human Resources to be contrary to the Bylaws of Meaty Chunks Inc., ("the bylaws"), the validity of the remainder of these Resolutions shall not be affected thereby.

________________________

Of course, like most instruments of bureaucratic change, the above resolutions say little about implementation. But don't worry! I have a plan! I'm going to wake up earlier every morning, thus allowing myself plenty of time to exercise and then get Sam up and out the door.

And that's it. All of our problems solved on our pathway to prompt, skinny bliss. And from there, we're pretty much perfect. Right, Jason? Right?

I thought so.

She's not wearing tap shoes

2008-12-31T09:47:00.004-06:00

But I guarantee* she'll still charm your socks off.

*Satisfaction guaranteed or your money back. Some restrictions apply. No refunds for neck injuries due to awkward camera rotation.

Neener

2008-12-23T11:57:00.001-06:00

Guess who I got to hold last week.

This little guy.

He's just as sweet as he looks.

And the rest of his family's not bad either.

It was so good to see you, Lion family. Let's do it again soon.

Also

2008-11-19T13:47:00.003-06:00

Yesterday was my brother, Michael's, birthday. And he's the best. And I love him. Even though I forgot to send a card. Or call him yesterday. Or wish him happy birthday when I talked to him ten minutes ago.

So I'll say it now, and I'll say it real loud:

Happy Birthday Michael! I love you!

(I hope that didn't wake anyone. It's quiet time around here.)

Update - 7:14 PM:

What's that? Michael's birthday is today? Not yesterday? Don't be ridiculous! I'd never mis-remember my brother's birthday! Never! You stop with those lies!

Bed Head

2008-11-19T08:56:00.002-06:00

Perhaps it was the unspeakable outrage of the rat hair, and the fear that she'll have to face similar public humiliation next Halloween. Or maybe our patience has finally paid off. Whatever it was, something's got the follicles on Grace's head all a-twitter.

As evidence, I submit the following:

Stunning, isn't it? Here's a shot from another angle.

And from the front:

Do you think it's time for me to buy the child a hair brush? Maybe for Christmas.

Ten for Tuesday

2008-11-11T09:30:00.003-06:00

1. Coach has been out of town all weekend. In Orlando. ORLANDO! When he left on last Thursday the weather here was gorgeous: sunny and breezy. By Friday we were up to 72 degrees. I used the air conditioner in the van, and called Coach to say "neener." Who needs Florida, with all those crowds and roller coasters? I'd rather stay right here in Buffalo, thank you very much. Except then on Saturday I had to turn the heat on again. On Sunday I turned on the fireplace too. And by Monday we had snow on the ground. It had melted by afternoon -- much to Sam's disappointment. (The new rule, "No Snow Angels Before School," was not a popular one.) I told him not to worry, there will be plenty of chances to play in the snow over the next six months. And then I died a little bit inside.

2. Since Coach was out of town, I hosted a little girls' night on Friday. We ate yummy food and made gorgeous jewelry and it was awesome. I should have taken pictures of everyone's creations, but that would have required some kind of forethought and preparation (like charging the camera). Perhaps my friends can take photos and post them on their blogs (hint hint), but until then, here's mine.

[The camera's still not charged, so pretend there's a picture here. Lovely, isn't it?]

3. I'm totally on a jewelry kick. I got a new bead catalog the other day, and have probably spent a total of 3 or 4 hours perusing it since. (Mostly while trying to get Grace to fall asleep. Someone's gotta train that girl to settle down without a fistful of my hair, cause this is getting old. Preference will be given to long-haired applicants.) When the last bead catalog came a few months ago, Coach saw me reading it intently and said, "I'm so glad you have a Dell Catalog of your own." (Although, to tell you the truth, I'm not sure a Dell Catolog will attract Coach's interest anymore, not since the arrival of the ipod touch. He's the one who thought up Apple's "funnest ipod ever" slogan, not that he's getting credit from Apple or anything.)

4. Have I mentioned I love thrift store shopping? I stopped in a Salvation Army the other day to find more goblets to hold my beads, and came out with a lot more than stemware. Probably my best find was a pair of tiny tap shoes that fit Grace perfectly. I put them on her in the store and let her down to try them out. That little girl was beside herself with glee: Shiny! Pretty! Noisy! Shoes! She ran laps around the store. And you know what else, turns out if you want to keep track of a mischievous toddler who likes to run away and hide in the racks of clothes, putting a pair of tap shoes on her is a good way to go. Of course I bought them. Probably the best $1.50 I ever spent. Now I just have to find a dance studio that accepts 20-month-olds.

5. I also bought a dusty old doll cradle that I'm going to pretty up and fill with dolls (hand-me-downs from one of Coach's supervisors, whose daughters have outgrown them) and dolly clothes for a certain little girl for Christmas.

6. The hand-me-downs also included a powerwheels car, which is going to be another big hit on Christmas morning (once we buy a new battery for it). The trouble is, this model is only a one-seater, and both children have expressed interest in it. Extreme interest. I hope no one gets run over while "taking turns."

7. Remember last week, when it was election day? I voted. I mean, I'm pretty sure I voted. The apparatus was a little confusing. And there was no place to write in my candidate of choice. So I just went ahead and voted for that one guy, and pulled the lever. I'd already decided I wasn't going to submit a vote for any local offices, just the president. I'd put quite a bit of time into researching, and could not find sufficient information to make an informed decision on the local races. So I took my friend Amber's suggestion, and instead of voting randomly I DIDN'T VOTE AT ALL (except for that one guy). It felt like a defiantly patriotic gesture, until I realized (when we discussed the process at dinner) that I'm the dumbest (non)voter in America. Does not voting still (not) count when you don't know how to work one of those voting machines thingies? Why couldn't we use one of those straightforward paper ballots, you know, like they use in Florida?

8. Sam summoned me to this room the other day, shrieking "Mom, these sunglasses fall off my head when I dance. And I need to dance." Thinking I could suggest some less acrobatic maneuvers, I asked what kind of dance he was doing. I was then informed that it was a private dance, and I was not permitted to watch. But I was permitted to listen to excessive complaints about those pesky sunglasses, and their inability to stay on Sam's head.

9. Grace is a TV junkie. If she is left to her own devices for even the briefest moment, she will click on the power switch on the TV, and then bring me the remote. She grunts and squeals to direct my channel flipping until we land on one of her favorites: Dora, The Backyardigans, Little Einsteins, Yo Gabba Gabba, Wonder Pets, Sesame Street, Wow Wow Wubbsy, Tellie Tubbies, Diego. (She's not very picky, actually. Except about having the TV on.)

10. I have a headache around my eyeball. Does that ever happen to you? It's not pleasant.

For the Record

2008-11-08T13:53:00.002-06:00

Today is Carolioness's birthday.* She's still as sweet as ever.

I love you, Carolioness! Happy birthday!

*And I didn't even miss it yet.

Taffy for Tuesday

2008-11-04T13:28:00.007-06:00

I'm dedicating today's Ten for Tuesday to my cousin, Taffy. I hope that this break from longstanding (ahem) tradition does not alarm anyone. I'll go back to talking about myself tomorrow. (Or, honestly, probably next week or the week after.) But today is Taffy's birthday. And she's so great I could write Ten for Tuesdays about her for the rest of her/my life and never be done telling you about her. So clear your schedules, folks. Here goes.

1. So,Taffy is my cousin, but she's not your average, ordinary every day cousin. She's a double cousin, and so, genetically she's really more my sister than anything else. I know what you're thinking. I have four sisters already. Isn't it getting greedy to claim more? Maybe. But take a look at these, and then we'll talk.Can you even tell which one of these lovely ladies has different parents?

Do I need to point out the resemblance?

2. So, yeah. There are some alarming physical similarities. But I think what really trips people up is how much we act like sisters when we're together. Taffy roomed with my sister, Peanut, their freshman year of college in the building where I happened to be a resident assistant. That year was one of the best of my life, due in no small part to the hilarious adventures we had together. We ate together, we played together, we sometimes even napped together (to disastrous consequences).

It's no small wonder that other people were confused about the specifics of our family relations. People would often ask, "Which one's your sister again?" I can't say I always got it right. More than once I mistakenly referred to "my sister, Taffy," only to be met with a puzzled look and a question, "I thought she was your cousin."

"Oh yeah, she is." My mistake.

3. These days, we just settle for the term "fake sister." And as far as fake sisters go, she's a keeper. For one, she's an awesome cook. And she makes a kick-a apple pie.

4. And that's just one of the many reasons that, as Amy B. said, "It's always a Party when [Taffy's] around."

5. Here's another one:
I don't remember why we donned the cat costumes, or what purpose we had prowling around BYU campus in them. But hoo boy, we sure had fun.

6. Silly as she can be, however, Taffy is as kind and compassionate as they come. I remember a handful of sister/cousin squabbles throughout the years, but whatever the source of the trouble (usually yours truly), Taffy was the peacemaker. Even when we were very young. She found a way to make us laugh until the injustices no longer seemed so important. Eventually, she even made a joke about being the peacemaker, when in the midst of a playful argument she'd declare defiantly, "I'm the peacemaker!" Cracked me up every time.

7. And while we're on the topic of cracking me up, another childhood memory comes to mind. When our families would get together, us girls would always stay up way too late telling stories. Taffy's performances were always wildly creative, and long after we were supposed to be asleep, her stories would have us giggling uproariously. Eventually, some parent or other would come in and tell us to knock it off (perhaps threatening to turn off the light). We'd try to blame Taffy, but she was always good at pretending to be asleep.

8. I think she still has that child-like sense of fun, even though she's all grown up with kids of her own. Here she is proving that with her impersonation of a Roman fountain. Impressive work for a mother of (at the time) two.

9. Now Taffy's a mom of five, and you wouldn't believe how well she's got it together.

Her kids are just what you'd expect -- cute, cleve r, spunky, and just oozing with talent. And Taffy is their number 1 fan (OK, tied with Tee). She she coordinates their dozens of activities, throws enchanting parties with creative cakes she makes herself, and still manages to squeeze in educational outings, crafting, and political activism. On top of all that, she's put many hours into finishing her degree by independent study -- no small feat, even with easy courses. But Taffy's not one to take the easy way through things. Instead of picking electives like Shoelace Tying or Walking for Leisure, she opted to learn Hebrew to help her better understand the scriptures.

In all of this, I know it's important to her to be a good example to her kids, but I wonder if Taffy realizes what a good example she is to the rest of us.

10. Especially to me.

And there's noting fake about that. I love you Taffy. Happy Birthday!

Halloween 2008

2008-11-02T13:22:00.003-06:00

Here's a little snapshot of our Halloween night. It was a pretty awesome night, all things considered.

Oh, and if you're wondering about that soundtrack, the song is Night on Bald Mountain. FYI.

Nine for a little bit after Tuesday

2008-10-29T15:08:00.002-05:00

I'm stealing the idea Boss stole since she's had a good two weeks to make good on the weekly post thing.

Here are my 10 not nearly as entertaining things for this week:

I'm so completely and utterly sick of politics right now, and so guess what? I'm running a campaign for a spot in the AMA. I will be printing campaign stickers, pins, cards... it's gonna be out of control.

Speaking of being out of control, my son is really excited about halloween. Not to steal the Boss' thunder, but she has made some super cute costumes for our kids. She was even specially nominated to be our ward witch for a party tonight (I'm still not sure whether coming immediately to mind for that special role is a compliment or not).

Speaking of compliments, I aced my physics test this week. Which is reassuring considering that I have NO idea what's going on in radiobiology. I remember loving school SOOO much as a kid. It was fun, social, and exciting. Now, after 20+ years of school, it's getting a little stale.

Speaking of stale, I'm on the Atkins diet again. I hate it. But it works. At least, it works for the first two weeks and if you actually follow the guidelines strictly. I sorta shot myself in the foot with some snacks during the last couple weeks, but I've still lost ~17 pounds in a month. Some would say this is dangerous. I would agree. Do not try this at home.

Speaking of danger, last night some of the areas around Buffalo got several inches of snow. Why? Why? Summer is so beautiful. Don't let it go!!!

Speaking of beautiful things, I got an ipod touch. Well, in theory, anyway. I bought it on ebay but it still hasn't shown up. Actually, this is going to take some explaining. I convinced myself that if I could buy it with our cashback refund for using our credit card (free money, sort of) that it would be okay to splurge on something so extravagant. AND I need something to listen to while I work out all my Atkins calories, right? So, I found one on ebay and figured out that Microsoft is shelling out 30% cash back on ebay purchases under a particular promotion they've got going on. After weaseling the price down to where I felt it would work, I bought the thing and then realized it was an older version. So, then I sold it and bought a new one. With another 30% cashback, I'm making good on the bottom line. Now I just have to wait for what seems like forever, because hey, it's a random guy in a second floor apartment in Pennsylvania that sold it to me, and he's taking his time.

Speaking of taking time, I'm taking time off to vacation in Utah in Dec. Go us! It's not during Christmas, but getting 4 people across the country for $600 is a lot easier if you massage the details.

Speaking of massages, do you know that I get a free massage at work from massage therapy students who come to treat patients but get bored? How great is my life?

Speaking of a great life, have you met my wife and kids? They are so great, it's unbelievable. This a warm up for Thanksgiving. When everything in my life is going wrong, there's one place that I know that I can escape to and be happy. I love going home, and I know that counts for a lot in our world. Oh yeah, I should probably include Malcom in that list of people/creatures I love, cuz he does read this blog religiously. Hi Malcom!

Speaking of dogs who can read...

I've got nothing. I guess it'll just be nine for a-little-after-Tuesday.

10 for Tuesday

2008-10-07T09:38:00.007-05:00

My friend Shelley does this "10 for Tuesday" thing on her blog, where she writes about 10 not-necessarily-related things currently going on in her life/head. I've been meaning to steal this idea for a while, cause I always have not-necessarily-related things going on in my life/head too.

Plus, I like the notion of committing myself to weekly* blog entries, as a way to both record the little daily details, and to get me off my parents' naughty list. I'm tired of all the good kids always showing me up with their weekly e-mails. I mean, I love hearing about what's going on, but it's really starting to make me look bad. I'm not saying I'm worried about losing standing as Mom and Dad's favorite kid. I'm just saying it's time for me to shape up a little bit.

1. Speaking of shaping up, after a celebratory slice cake on my birthday, Coach put himself on a diet. I decided I should probably join him, since it was my birthday cake and all. So we've been watching what we eat and exercising more, and now a couple weeks later we're each down a few pounds. I'm encouraged but ambivalent. On the plus side (ha ha) losing weight will make us both healthier. But meal time has become quite complicated; Coach is following the Atkins diet and I'm doing old-fashioned calorie counting. I've come up with a few meals we can all eat together, but between diet plans and picky eaters, we usually each have something different on our plates. The whole process is time consuming and expensive. And it makes me a little bit grumpy. And I'm not sure I wouldn't rather be fat and happy than less fat and grumpy.

2. Speaking of snacks, I noticed a couple days ago that Grace's car seat had become so encrusted with cheerios and cracker crumbs that it was attracting ants. So this morning I hauled out the power washer and sprayed the whole thing down. It was awesome. You know how those woven straps trap in the crud and get sticky and twisted, and really quite unpleasant to have to handle several times a day? Well, let me tell you, spraying the crud out of those things with the high pressure hose is really quite satisfying. When the car set was finished, I brought out Grace's booster seat. And then I realized I was soaked and freezing, so I went inside.

3. Speaking of stuff that's not dirty, Coach bought me a beautiful ring for my birthday. I've been wearing it a lot. Almost every day. (This is unusual for me. ) Like I'm married or something. It's so sparkly, I don't even miss getting hit on.

Here I am modeling it while practicing hand positions for a scary shadow puppet show. (OK, the truth is that although I took several shots with my hand in a much more natural positions, every single one of those was out of focus.)

And here it is as it was intended to be displayed: on an invisible hand in a studio with bright lights and a professional photographer. (Thanks Overstock! Copyright, schmopyright!)4. Speaking of copyright, initially I misspelled the word "copyright above." No worries, though, because Firefox alerted me. "Coyright" is not a word. "Schmopyright," however, is. Apparently.**

5. Speaking of words that aren't words, Grace has an adorable collection of them. Airplane sounds a lot like "ooooh!" Pretty is pronounced "pe-ay." Squirrel, cat, and bunny, are "goggie." Doggie is "goggie. To the untrained ear, these vocalizations might be unrecognizable. But no one could misunderstand Grace's requests for a cookie. That, she enunciates perfectly: "COOOOOOKIE!"

6. Speaking of cookies, I made some for Sam to take to his school bake sale today: round sugar cookies frosted orange and topped with gummy tarantulas. They weren't what I'd call delicious, but elementary students don't seem to be particularly discriminating when tarantula-shaped sugar is involved. Am I right?

7. Speaking of fundraisers, the bake sale was just the latest in a string of school fundraisers. Over the last few weeks, Sam has come home with practically every fund raising catalog ever printed. Should you find yourself in need of wrapping paper/chocolates/calendars/popcorn/candles/novelty items, you'd better check with some of the kids in your neighborhood or something. Because I threw all of Sam's catalogs away. Sorry.

8. Speaking of stuff I'm not really all that sorry about, Coach "accidentally" ran over one of Sam's orange cones this morning. He said it made a satisfying crunching sound, and that when he saw it shattered to bits in the driveway he couldn't help but laugh a little.

I doubt Sam would have seen the humor. But lucky for all of us, I cleaned up the carnage before Sam happened upon it. Now let's just hope he doesn't count his cones and realize he's down to just three.

9. Speaking of counting, if I've done mine right, I'm just about finished. And not a minute too soon, cause it's time for me to go pick up Sam at the bus stop. This is one of Grace's favorite parts of the day, because as we stand at the corner she gets to point out every bus ("buuuuh") and car ("uuuuh") and van ("uuuuh") that passes by. I admit, it's one of my favorite parts of the day too.

10. Speaking of favorite parts of the day, what's yours?

*Don't bother pointing out that today is not Tuesday, or that I've been working on this "weekly" post for a week and a half now. There are all kinds of irregularities in the space-time continuum. Let's just say this is one of those.

**FYI, eventually, Firefox did alert me to my misspelling of the word "schmopyright."

All that we let in

2008-09-17T12:52:00.003-05:00

Planets hurling and atoms splitting
And a sweater for your love you sit there knitting.

~"All That We Let In," Indigo Girls

I've had this song running through my head a lot lately. And it keeps making me cry.

*****

Steve Inskeep wakes me up every morning at 7:00. Amiable as he is, I usually don't want to hear from anyone at 7:00 AM, so I hit snooze at least a couple times and plunge back to sleep. Between snoozes, though, I catch up on current events. And by the time I'm up and moving at 7:30, I've heard about hurricane refugees, financial collapse, and political scandal.

And then I help Sam get dressed. He picks out each item carefully: underwear, socks, shoes, shirt, shorts. The mornings are getting cooler, and he's not happy about having to wear pants more frequently. But there's no time to dwell on that, because we've got a lunch to pack. He chooses cheese and crackers, apple slices, juice, and candy corn. We pack it all up and head to the bus stop on the corner. He boards easily now, without a glance in my direction. But just in case he does look back, I smile and wave. He's happy. I'm happy.

Then Grace and Malcom and I take a walk around the neighborhood. I love fall mornings, cold with dew and warm with sun. Why was I ever sad to see the summer end? This is the perfect time of year. We return home to do chores or run errands. Grace stands on a stool next to me while I chop or wash or clean in the kitchen. She helps me pick up toys, and moves her vacuum back and forth right next to mine. We move outside to work in the back yard. While I sand and paint, she runs around the driveway pushing Sam's bigwheel. She stops and climbs on sometimes, to check if she can reach the pedals yet. She's happy. I'm happy.

It's time for lunch so we pull out some leftovers. Grace isn't nearly as picky as Sam is, but she won't turn down a handful of candy corn either. And then we gather her provisions: a pacifier, her musical bunny, and a fistful of my hair (still attached). I lay her down in my bed and snuggle next to her. I read while she twirls my hair and falls asleep. Sometimes I nap along side her. Or I get up and read blogs or make phone calls or work on projects. We're both happy.

By the time Grace is through napping it's almost time to pick Sam up from his bus stop. He's always tired at the end of the day, so I turn on The Backyardigans and try to needle some information out of him. "Who did you sit with at lunch today?" "What's Barnaby up to?" He avoids my questions while he nibbles on his after-school snack.

Grace snacks and watches TV with Sam while I start to think about dinner. Or she helps me in the kitchen. When it's all ready, Coach comes home and we eat. After dinner we might go for a walk, or play video games or work in the yard or hang out with our friends. We're happy.

And before we know it, the time for jammies has come. We brush teeth and read books and work on Sam's homework. If Sam's up for it, there may be some snuggling. He falls asleep pretty quickly these days, and then we're down to just Grace. She loves climbing in and out of her new toddler bed all by herself, but she'd still rather fall asleep in Mommy and Daddy's bed, if she can get away with it. (She usually can.) Either way, she's fast asleep, and back to her own bed soon+.

And then Coach and I read or blog or watch TV. There may even be some snuggling if we're up for it.

Sounds idyllic, doesn't it?

Of course, we have our ups and downs, our grumpy slumps, tantrums and fights. But on days like these, when the weather is perfect and the kids are adorable, I can almost forget about everything else. Well, maybe "forget" isn't the right word. I know it's all out there: horror and destruction; financial disaster; private heartbreaks and global tragedies. And even some honest-to-goodness atoms splitting. Steve Inskeep's told me about it all in the last couple weeks. But none of it scares me as much as it probably should. I just sit here (figuratively) knitting. And this is the part that gets me all emotional -- realizing that for all the madness going on in the world, from the other side of the fence to the other side of the globe, I have everything I need right here, right now. I am happy.

Who's crying now? An update from pre-k.

2008-09-08T14:11:00.010-05:00

So, after all the reported trauma of Sam's first day of school (during which I never left the building) (and which lasted less than two hours), I could hardly be expected to make it through his first full day (Friday) (which began and ended with a solo bus ride) (and lasted eight hours) without shedding a tear or two.

But it was just a couple tears, and I held them back until the bus drove away.

I spent the day getting stuff done at home, where I could stay close to the phone, just in case. It rang lots of times, but it was never the school telling me Sam had already had three accidents and soiled his last set of clean clothes. Success!

I don't think Sam would have described his day as successful, however. In fact, moments after getting off the bus that afternoon, he was in tears again because his teacher wouldn't let him bring home his (stuffed) puppy. I also learned about a tall five-year-old named Barnaby* who told Sam he couldn't sit on the storytime rug. He didn't really have anything positive to say about school, and by bedtime that night Sam had concocted a plot for the two of us to sneak into the school and take back his puppy. After that, he planned to be done with school forever.

I'll admit I was a little bit worried about all of this. And he did get me a little vaclempt with his earnest pleas to let him stay home with me and Grace. "I just love you so much," he told me. But I made it a point to be upbeat and enthusiastic. I reminded him that last year he didn't like ABC School** very much at first, but once he got used to it he loved it. Always ready with his next objection, he said, "But I don't want to go to a school with a teacher."

I fretted all weekend, until we had an unexpected breakthrough. On Sunday night, when Sam saw the snacks I'd stocked for his lunches, he suddenly couldn't wait to pack up his selections and get going. "I wanna go to school," he said enthusiastically.

Sam ready for the bus on Monday morning. ( He picked out his own clothes.)

There were still a few tears about Puppy on Monday morning. I suggested that we pick out another stuffed animal to take to school so he could bring Puppy home. "That won't work," he assured me. He still didn't think his teacher would let that puppy out of her sight. "I'll write her a note," I explained. "She'll send him home if I write her a note." He looked doubtful, but finally agreed that we could pick out a new animal after school. "It has to be snuggly with soft fabric and have airplanes and frogs on it."

I wasn't sure I could really meet his specifications, but I nodded my agreement and we headed off to the bus stop without further incident. When the bus arrived, Sam took Ray's hand and boarded without looking back.

He came home Monday afternoon cheerful, without a mention of Puppy or the hypothetical new snuggle toy. He did mention that Barnaby said he wanted Sam's lunch, but Sam didn't give it to him. I'll wait it out a few more weeks before I raise the alarm about the Pre-K bully. But be warned, Barnaby. I've got my eye on you.

All in all, I'm surprised at how quickly Sam has transitioned from anxiety to enthusiasm. I'm still alarmed at how small he looks in that giant backpack. And I still think the school day is a little too long for a four-year-old. But I just love him that much more when he comes home. Look at him standing there. How can I not?

*Not his real name, just in case he's innocent.

**A once-a-week co-op preschool with a group of friends from church.

I cried

2008-09-04T06:58:00.005-05:00

Sam started school yesterday. It's just pre-K. But it's not that pansy kind of pre-K, all singing and playing and snack time. No, this is the real thing. All day, every day at a public school with eighth graders! And there's going to be some hard-core learning at this pre-K, I'm told, a regimented curriculum of letters and numbers animal sounds.

So this is serious stuff, and it's no wonder that I cried when I dropped Sam off. Right? Right?

Also, before you judge me for being a hyper-emotional maniac*, you should know that Sam was also crying, clinging to my leg and running out of the room after me screaming "I want to go to your class, Mom! I want you to stay with me forever."< At that point, I knew that it would only get worse if Sam saw me tearing up, so I had to turn my back and walk away while a classroom aide shuffled him back to the classroom.

The good news is the first day was only a half day, and the parent orientation ("my class") was pretty short. I was back to Sam's classroom within an hour, and found him sitting in a tall cubby, holding his frog blanket. When he saw me, he asked "Mom, can you snuggle me a little bit?" (Cue waterworks.) The aide told me he sat in that cubby the whole time, but he didn't cry. I wish the same were true for me.

The even better news, though, is that I really like this school. And I like his teacher even more. In a district full of failing schools, we lucked in to one in "good standing" with a teacher who is not just "highly qualified," but kind, patient, and down-to-earth. So, I think that if Sam can bring himself to leave his cubby, he'll have a really great year. Me too. I think.

*A fair assessment, considering my track record with public waterworks: the rental car place, the doctor's office, Wal-Mart. Yep, I'm a basketcase.

**I should note that "forever" to Sam means something like "until I think of something else." But, I should also not that apparently he has not yet thought of something else, because just moments ago as he buttoned himself into his school clothes, he came in and told me "Mom, today, I don't want you to do what the teacher says. I want you to stay with me in my class."

Last day before school starts

2008-09-02T22:04:00.003-05:00

Indulge Me

2008-08-23T20:05:00.003-05:00

Here's a little bloggy game I swiped from a friend.

Here's how to play...
1. As a comment on my blog, leave a memory that you have of me. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember!
2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see who leaves a memory about you.

If you leave a memory about me, I'll assume you're playing the game and I'll come to your blog and leave one about you.

See, it's fun! Is there any better way to spend the next few minutes than ~~reminding me how funny I am~~ re-living those special moments we've shared? You'll play, won't you? Please play. Don't make me beg.

A day late and a quarter short

2008-08-20T16:13:00.003-05:00

I am often approached by strangers asking for money. I'm not sure what it is exactly that makes me such an easy mark, but it's happened often enough that I instated an Official Personal Policy with Regards to Strangers Asking for Money. It was recorded several months ago in the (imaginary) family bylaws as follows:

If I can comfortably part with the cash, and if situation is one that I could reasonably see myself (or someone I love) in, then I will do what I would hope a stranger would do for me (or someone I love) in that same situation.

Like, say you're at the gas station, totally on empty, and you realize your wallet's not in your purse because you took it out to pay the Girl Scouts when they delivered the cookies you ordered. So you just need $2.00 worth of gas (or at today's prices, $5.00) to get home. No problem. I can buy that. And I'll happily pump a couple bucks into your tank if you want to pull your car up right here behind mine.

It's not that I believe every reasonable explanation is the truth, or that if I can "just spare 65 cents for bus fare" it won't end up in the cash register at the liquor store. I know I've been duped. But still, I want to live in the kind of world where strangers help strangers when they can. So I have to be willing to do it myself. Whether you call it karma or the golden rule or a categorical imperative, it's how I want to live my life.

But an encounter yesterday almost made me want to ammend this family bylaw (despite all the red tape I'd have to go through). I was in the van with the kids outside a Family Dollar store in Buffalo's West Side. A guy came up to the driver's side window and asked for three dollars for bus fare. I knew I didn't have any bills in my wallet, so I checked the ashtray for coins. As I was turned sorting through the change, he asked impatiently, "Are you going to give me three dollars?"

"I'm going to see what I have," I answered, sifting through the pile of mostly pennies. Moments later I handed him a stack of six quarters. "This should get you started." I said. He counted it, craned his neck through the van window to check the ashtray and said, "Can I have that quarter there too?" Though I was irked by his nerviness, I handed him the additional quarter; I can spare $1.75 as easily as $1.50, really. He took the seventh quarter and walked away without another word.

Half an hour later, as I was digging through the ash tray again--this time to feed a parking meter outside Coach's work--I thought about that last quarter and started to get annoyed. It really would have come in handy right then. And I remembered how the day before, I'd decided to cave to my weeklong craving for Chinese food and get the lunchtime special at the local hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant. $3.59 for an entree with ham-fried rice! I planned to get sweet & sour chicken, but when I saw it cost more -- $3.95! -- I opted for sesame chicken instead. At the time I laughed at myself for the choice. "It's only 36 cents. You can get what you want," I told myself. But I like sesame chicken too, and its in my nature to save money wherever I can. Even if it's just 36 cents at a time.

And as I thought about it more, I got even more irritated. The "save wherever you can" mentality is what allows us to survive (quite comfortably) on our single modest salary. We have everything we need and lots of what we want and I'm definitely not complaining. I feel like we've really been blessed financially throughout our marriage to always be able to make ends meet, and I'm very grateful. But we're barely outside the cutoffs for public assistance; I think about every dollar I spend before I spend it. And though I can easily part with a quarter (or seven) here and there, I find myself wondering why I bother pinching pennies if I'm just going to toss them out the window to anyone who asks.

This of course leads to a dizzying whirlpool (cesspool?) of other questions about the responsibilities of the individual vs. the collective, the practical and moral bounds of charity, the consequences of poverty, and the requirements and limitations on any system that attempts to define or promote the public good. I'm not smart enough to answer these questions, which is why I tried to keep it simple in the first place: if you can spare it, share it.

In retrospect, what I should have done was not stop at $1.50 just to make things quick, but keep digging through the ashtray until I'd come up with $3.00 in a combination of nickles, dimes and pennies. Especially pennies. I certainly had plenty to spare.

Would that cancel out my good karma? I think I'm willing to risk it.

So strangers, take note. If you come up to me and ask for money, I will give it to you. But I may ask you a few questions first. Like, "What bus are you waiting for?" and "Did you order Samoas or Carmel deLites?" I'll still hand over the money, even if I don't like your answer. And I'll resist the urge to sarcastically scream "You're welcome!" at your back as you walk away. But I won't resist the urge to give you what you ask for in the form of seven quarters, two nickles, and one-hundred and fifteen pennies.