I missed two days, noooooooo! Here is what happened Sunday that I should have posted on quickly and knocked one out. After church we went to the conveyor belt sushi place for lunch. It's kind of a thing. So much so in fact that the kids that used to plead and wheedle for that place are all bored and aggravated when we suggest (announce) eating there. On the way we stopped for a months-overdue car wash. The kids really like going through the car wash. You'd think we would go more often. Huh.
Anyway, 0ne of the many fine features of the conveyor belt sushi place is 80s Sundays, by which I mean the overly loud muzak mix skews heavily 80s. Time After Time! But this past Sunday, to our surprise, it was all 70s, and the second song they played was, wait for it, "At the Car Wash," or whatever that song is called. You know the one. Where they say, "Working at the car wash!" over and over. Naomi heard it and was amazed. "We were just at the car wash! And now here is a song about it! It's like one of Jesus' miracles!"
So, Monday's post would have maybe said that I ran my first meeting as the new me at my job, and it was only so so. Whatever, I'll figure it out. Short post!
And now, Tuesday. Lovely Valentiney Tuesday. Red Velvet Pancake Mix from Cost Plus World Market is a buy. Buy, Buy, Buy! We had them (clumsy, heart-shaped) with strawberries and Reddi Wip. The girls opened their little Valentine gifts, the crocheted heart scarves (which I finished yesterday) were revealed, many handmade Valentines were exchanged. Rover the (toy) dog ate cake made from beads and lentils with his animal homies. (Valentine's Day is his birthday.) Tonight after gymnastics we ate heart-shaped pizza and an overly sweet strawberry shortcake that no one could finish. It's the kind of dessert that makes you anxious to get your teeth brushed.
So I am putting my sweet beloveds to bed, and Naomi says, is Eff You See Kay a bad word? I say, why yes it is. She says, but what does it mean? And I say, huh, well, and she says, does it mean like (and she leans way in so she can whisper in my ear) Stupid? I told her I need to think about how to explain what it means. She suggests that I Google it.
So, um, Happy Valentine's Day!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
I Wanna Dance with Somebody
I have no time to post- too sleepy and so forth, and have the last third of a movie to watch and the last fifth of a scarf to crochet. But I will say that I remember SO fondly that video of Whitney in her gray jersey knit dress wanting to dance with somebody. She wanted to feel the heat with somebody. Somebody who loved her! I was officially a Talking Heads fan, and a Clash fan, but I totally loved her. That's probably not the way she meant. Anyway, R.I.P. Whitney.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Ballet Friday
Today was the ballet field trip. I worked at home for a little bit, then rushed to the local Korean market to ask if they have an ATM. The cashier took his earbuds out, heard my question, and the very generously didn't laugh as he reminded me that there was a BANK OF AMERICA sharing the same parking lot. Duh. So, ATM for my chaperone admission fee. Wait, ATMs only give twenties, and the fee is ten. So to the ATM, and then inside to get the nice Bank of America teller to change my twenty for two tens.
And then of course I thought of this SNL skit.
So, the bus. Our class got a bus all to ourselves. There are three first grade classes. Two fifth grade classes were going as well. You don't want to split up class groups, with the teacher-organized delicately balanced chaperone/student formations. So our class got a bus. Sweet. The driver, Irene, was super worst-case scenario, and briefed all the moms on the location of the fire extinguisher and the Bodily Fluid Cleanup Kit. We got to the Seattle Center, walked up our twelve flights of stairs, fit ourselves into the allotted rows, and watched us some ballet.
The company wisely shortened the production, down to an hour. Even though there was a guy explaining what was happening, it was hard for me to follow the plot. I loved the dancing toreadors, though- there were lots of them, and except for the main one, they all had pink capes. During the anti-intermission, they showed how they move the scenery around to make an outside scene into an inside one. They demonstrated differences in lighting. They demonstrated some percussion instruments, then a violin and a French horn.
My favorite parts were when they tossed Sancho Panza into the air repeatedly, and every time the lights went down, because that would cause the three thousand kids in the audience to scream like mad. I wonder if the performers enjoy the kids' matinee. I enjoyed it!
And then of course I thought of this SNL skit.
So, the bus. Our class got a bus all to ourselves. There are three first grade classes. Two fifth grade classes were going as well. You don't want to split up class groups, with the teacher-organized delicately balanced chaperone/student formations. So our class got a bus. Sweet. The driver, Irene, was super worst-case scenario, and briefed all the moms on the location of the fire extinguisher and the Bodily Fluid Cleanup Kit. We got to the Seattle Center, walked up our twelve flights of stairs, fit ourselves into the allotted rows, and watched us some ballet.
The company wisely shortened the production, down to an hour. Even though there was a guy explaining what was happening, it was hard for me to follow the plot. I loved the dancing toreadors, though- there were lots of them, and except for the main one, they all had pink capes. During the anti-intermission, they showed how they move the scenery around to make an outside scene into an inside one. They demonstrated differences in lighting. They demonstrated some percussion instruments, then a violin and a French horn.
My favorite parts were when they tossed Sancho Panza into the air repeatedly, and every time the lights went down, because that would cause the three thousand kids in the audience to scream like mad. I wonder if the performers enjoy the kids' matinee. I enjoyed it!
Thursday, February 09, 2012
I'm Your Puppet
For one of the plot points in the book project that we are rapidly running out of time on, the dog main character goes to the library in search of his cat friend and encounters... a monster. Remember recently when all the toy stores had sweet and not especially scary monsters for sale? They were the size of medium size teddy bears and had one eye or three eyes and were strange colors. They were overpriced, because they were so amazingly creative or whatever. The point is, they were everywhere. So of course I thought I would encounter one, one of these days. Or, when I called around to all the toy stores in the area, that one of them would say, sure, we have a couple of those. But no! No Monsters!
So today at lunch I rolled the dice and hustled on over to Goodwill. At Goodwill, they have an aisle of toys, and half of the aisle, on one side, on four or five shelves, is filled with stuffed toys. I felt a crackle of excitement. This is a locally famous Goodwill. They get a lot of good stuff at this Goodwill. So I had to think that they would have a handful of sweet, amazingly creative one-eyed blue monsters in the assortment. I began to search. Hurriedly. Start at this end of the top shelf, work to the other end. Down a level. So. Many. Stuffed toys. And while many of the toys were in fact monstrous (I'm looking at you, lifelike gorilla wearing a leprechaun suit), none of them were monsters.
I was down to the very bottom shelf, working across, wondering if I could swing some kind of DIY custom job to turn this extremely ugly orange bulldog into a convincing monster. The Goodwill soundtrack, I swear this is true, was playing a song I do not know from the seventies (judging by its adjacents) in which the chorus proclaimed, "I'm your puppet..." And then, I saw him. Green. Googly eyes. Horrible teeth. Worn out fur. Not amazingly creative. Not soft, cuddly blue microfiber, vintage 2010. Not even a little bit cute. And yes, a puppet. This is like a sign from the universe that we have to complete our creative project. The universe, or the seventies.
So today at lunch I rolled the dice and hustled on over to Goodwill. At Goodwill, they have an aisle of toys, and half of the aisle, on one side, on four or five shelves, is filled with stuffed toys. I felt a crackle of excitement. This is a locally famous Goodwill. They get a lot of good stuff at this Goodwill. So I had to think that they would have a handful of sweet, amazingly creative one-eyed blue monsters in the assortment. I began to search. Hurriedly. Start at this end of the top shelf, work to the other end. Down a level. So. Many. Stuffed toys. And while many of the toys were in fact monstrous (I'm looking at you, lifelike gorilla wearing a leprechaun suit), none of them were monsters.
I was down to the very bottom shelf, working across, wondering if I could swing some kind of DIY custom job to turn this extremely ugly orange bulldog into a convincing monster. The Goodwill soundtrack, I swear this is true, was playing a song I do not know from the seventies (judging by its adjacents) in which the chorus proclaimed, "I'm your puppet..." And then, I saw him. Green. Googly eyes. Horrible teeth. Worn out fur. Not amazingly creative. Not soft, cuddly blue microfiber, vintage 2010. Not even a little bit cute. And yes, a puppet. This is like a sign from the universe that we have to complete our creative project. The universe, or the seventies.
Wednesday, February 08, 2012
Highs and Lows
I am elated, no exaggeration, because I had this little swirl of yarn left, and had to get all the way around the scarf with my cheesy scallop border in order to finish up Muriel's pink scarf. I can't believe it made it. It made it!
I am also glum, a bit, because the pink scarf (very light pink) with the kind of red velvet color border around it just does not look that nice. And Naomi's is going to be the same dark red color, but with the light pink around it. I thoroughly enjoy crocheting, but how I wish I were better at the color choosing. It's not my strong suit!
And, I'm tired. It is past my bed time. That was a lot of yarn work. Also: will I ever get less rusty at this? I can't believe how out of practice I am. Oh! Before I forget, I set up an after school program at Naomi's school- a science class that runs once a week for six weeks. Today was the first one, and it was mobbed with little future science nerds. Woo hoo! Ok, g'night.
I am also glum, a bit, because the pink scarf (very light pink) with the kind of red velvet color border around it just does not look that nice. And Naomi's is going to be the same dark red color, but with the light pink around it. I thoroughly enjoy crocheting, but how I wish I were better at the color choosing. It's not my strong suit!
And, I'm tired. It is past my bed time. That was a lot of yarn work. Also: will I ever get less rusty at this? I can't believe how out of practice I am. Oh! Before I forget, I set up an after school program at Naomi's school- a science class that runs once a week for six weeks. Today was the first one, and it was mobbed with little future science nerds. Woo hoo! Ok, g'night.
Tuesday, February 07, 2012
Like Weeds!
This morning Jim had the girls stand up against the wood side of the oven cabinet thing, where he measures them. I'm not sure how this got started, but there are progressive notches all up the side. You can't see the marks unless you get very close.
Anyway, the point is, it has not just been our imagination. The kids are sprouting! Both of them have grown an inch since December.
Today I ran out at lunch to the Cost Plus, where in the extremely well-stocked candy department I had previously run across those candy buttons on long strips of paper that we used to get at Farrell's ice cream parlor, way back in the mists of time. I was hoping to find them again, since Naomi and I were planning to make these valentines this year. They were not hanging where I saw them last. But upon frantically summoning a sales associate, I immediately stumbled back upon them. Happens every time.
So...gotta get to work on those valentines! I should have bought some for Muriel- her teacher mentioned something about no candy, and the candy buttons are definitely candy. Hmm. In the meantime, Happy Tuesday!
Anyway, the point is, it has not just been our imagination. The kids are sprouting! Both of them have grown an inch since December.
Today I ran out at lunch to the Cost Plus, where in the extremely well-stocked candy department I had previously run across those candy buttons on long strips of paper that we used to get at Farrell's ice cream parlor, way back in the mists of time. I was hoping to find them again, since Naomi and I were planning to make these valentines this year. They were not hanging where I saw them last. But upon frantically summoning a sales associate, I immediately stumbled back upon them. Happens every time.
So...gotta get to work on those valentines! I should have bought some for Muriel- her teacher mentioned something about no candy, and the candy buttons are definitely candy. Hmm. In the meantime, Happy Tuesday!
Monday, February 06, 2012
Monday Again?
I should tell you first that Jim has taken a number of photos for the kid's book, and they are Cute. I can't wait to finish up and put the book together. He has also acquired some kind of keyboard thing that hooks up to the computer, and that you can sing into and record. It is a creativity explosion up in here.
I should tell you second that I just read an article that someone just linked to about the five regrets of the dying. Of course one of them was, "I wish I hadn't worked so much." Sigh.
So now I will tell you that I have a new role at work. Same project, same product, same team, new release, and new role. I am excited about the change, kind of. I admit that I am worried that I am inviting extra stress into my life. And I am almost sure that I am inviting extra work into my life. But it's a good change, and will be interesting and challenging. Wish me luck.
We are reading another Boxcar Children mystery, and I love the way the girls surprise me every night with their attention and comprehension. Also, we found the half-finished James and the Giant Peach behind the bed. We can solve our own mysteries, thank you very much. Though we would have fewer if we tidied up more often.
I should tell you second that I just read an article that someone just linked to about the five regrets of the dying. Of course one of them was, "I wish I hadn't worked so much." Sigh.
So now I will tell you that I have a new role at work. Same project, same product, same team, new release, and new role. I am excited about the change, kind of. I admit that I am worried that I am inviting extra stress into my life. And I am almost sure that I am inviting extra work into my life. But it's a good change, and will be interesting and challenging. Wish me luck.
We are reading another Boxcar Children mystery, and I love the way the girls surprise me every night with their attention and comprehension. Also, we found the half-finished James and the Giant Peach behind the bed. We can solve our own mysteries, thank you very much. Though we would have fewer if we tidied up more often.
Sunday, February 05, 2012
3D Real
Another weekend over already? And I have about ten minutes to post, because I have to crochet and watch Downton Abbey. And take my damn Geritol.
Today while Jim went to Home Depot, the girls and I went to eat frozen yogurt and watch Beauty and the Beast in 3D. The kids got "commemorative" take home 3D glasses, and Muriel managed to absorb the name of the 3D brand (is that right? Can 3D be branded?), except she got it flipped around, so she called it 3D Real. Which is squarely in the broad category of "why correct?"
"Beauty and the Beast" shows its age a mite, I'm not going to lie. There are bits of it that are so goofy, old-school animation (mostly the chummy violent bits that involve townspeople and Gaston). And I cringe a bit at the cultural elite angle in the opening song. Read a book, for heaven's sake, people! Heh. But I still loved it. Muriel sniffled in the appropriate spots (that girl), and was terrified most of the rest of the time. Still a fun outing, and we got back just in time to see Madonna's half-time show. Super.
Today while Jim went to Home Depot, the girls and I went to eat frozen yogurt and watch Beauty and the Beast in 3D. The kids got "commemorative" take home 3D glasses, and Muriel managed to absorb the name of the 3D brand (is that right? Can 3D be branded?), except she got it flipped around, so she called it 3D Real. Which is squarely in the broad category of "why correct?"
"Beauty and the Beast" shows its age a mite, I'm not going to lie. There are bits of it that are so goofy, old-school animation (mostly the chummy violent bits that involve townspeople and Gaston). And I cringe a bit at the cultural elite angle in the opening song. Read a book, for heaven's sake, people! Heh. But I still loved it. Muriel sniffled in the appropriate spots (that girl), and was terrified most of the rest of the time. Still a fun outing, and we got back just in time to see Madonna's half-time show. Super.
Saturday, February 04, 2012
Storyboard!
What should I be doing right now? What will I be doing, when I stop doing this? Actually, a couple of things. I should be finishing the border on the cheesy valentine scarves that I am crocheting for the girls. I should be enjoying some green tea. I should be scrounging for some dessert food that I know is not in my house. I should be sleeping. But the real thing I need to do- storyboarding!
Oh, look. Jim just brought me the tea. Perhaps I can outsource the dessert scrounging as well?
Anyway, we are planning a birthday present for Naomi- a book starring her two favorite stuffed toys. Can you believe she will be SEVEN month? Wow! But tomorrow I have the kids away in the afternoon, and Jim has agreed to shoot as many of the pictures as he can for the book. So I have to get the scenes put together tonight, while scrounging for dessert and watching some dreck on the watch it now. Hmm. Should be quite a Saturday!
Oh, look. Jim just brought me the tea. Perhaps I can outsource the dessert scrounging as well?
Anyway, we are planning a birthday present for Naomi- a book starring her two favorite stuffed toys. Can you believe she will be SEVEN month? Wow! But tomorrow I have the kids away in the afternoon, and Jim has agreed to shoot as many of the pictures as he can for the book. So I have to get the scenes put together tonight, while scrounging for dessert and watching some dreck on the watch it now. Hmm. Should be quite a Saturday!
Friday, February 03, 2012
Donkey Ho-tay
This is going to be short, as I am headed out for a raucous night of chip eating and margarita drinking. But let me announce, with great pride, that my name was chosen from the hat, and I get to accompany the first graders to a BALLET! Which until this evening, Naomi thought was about a donkey. Hee Haw!
Thursday, February 02, 2012
Privacy
I just got home from a PTA meeting. It was OK- more interesting to me than the last one. I was starving, so the free pizza was extra delicious. I was flummoxed as usual by how they all seem to know all the rules you have to follow in order to do anything. I have a lot to learn.
One of my roles at the PTA is that I am a "rep" to the local foundation that raises money to plug "funding gaps" for the school district. Ah, air quotes, going from air back to actual printed words. Anyway, I actually prepared for once and blathered on to the other attendees about all the good work that the foundation does. Plugging gaps!
Anyway, they (the foundation) have a FB page. Our PTA has a FB page. One other organization that came and blathered a lot more than I did has a FB page. When I got home I tried to explain to Jim why some part of me wants to get an alter ego FB account, because then I would feel more comfortable engaging with all these other FB entities, without having to expose my own real life to a bunch of people I don't know well. He said, what are you posting to FB?!
But that isn't it. I just want to be able to learn and connect and all that, without thinking twice about posting photos of my kids napping on the Ikea showbed. And yet, someone who played saxophone in the band who I barely knew and never speak to, virtually or otherwise, needs to see those photos, while the nice moms of the PTA get my as yet nonexistent secondary slightly fake self? I need to think about this one a little more. Or read up on the privacy settings.
One of my roles at the PTA is that I am a "rep" to the local foundation that raises money to plug "funding gaps" for the school district. Ah, air quotes, going from air back to actual printed words. Anyway, I actually prepared for once and blathered on to the other attendees about all the good work that the foundation does. Plugging gaps!
Anyway, they (the foundation) have a FB page. Our PTA has a FB page. One other organization that came and blathered a lot more than I did has a FB page. When I got home I tried to explain to Jim why some part of me wants to get an alter ego FB account, because then I would feel more comfortable engaging with all these other FB entities, without having to expose my own real life to a bunch of people I don't know well. He said, what are you posting to FB?!
But that isn't it. I just want to be able to learn and connect and all that, without thinking twice about posting photos of my kids napping on the Ikea showbed. And yet, someone who played saxophone in the band who I barely knew and never speak to, virtually or otherwise, needs to see those photos, while the nice moms of the PTA get my as yet nonexistent secondary slightly fake self? I need to think about this one a little more. Or read up on the privacy settings.
Wednesday, February 01, 2012
Seven Months and Change
Well, it's February, and this must mean it's time for daily posts. I know what you are thinking. You are thinking, what? This is still a living, breathing site? Can that be true? And you are reading this months after I post it, because you really gave up ever coming here and only stumbled upon it quite by accident when you clicked the wrong link. I don't hold a grudge. I was overly absent. It's on me.
So anyway, it seems like I should be able to pull off daily posts, because after all, I haven't told you guys anything that's been going on for like, EVER. But for tonight, we'll stick with tonight. Tonight was Skating Night at the local rink, sponsored by the PTA and for our elementary school only. Ironically, they spelled the name of the school wrong on the sign. Sigh. We skated in circles, listened to pop music, reveled in black lights, hokey pokied. Naomi is very, very keen on skating. It is so fun to watch her. The first few times we went, she looked like a little marching robot. Now she has gotten the hang of it, and glides around pretty convincingly. I still look wobbly. Skating is new when you haven't done it in, mmm, 25 years or something? It doesn't say anything good about me that I seemed to get better when they played the Bee Gees.
See you tomorrow!
So anyway, it seems like I should be able to pull off daily posts, because after all, I haven't told you guys anything that's been going on for like, EVER. But for tonight, we'll stick with tonight. Tonight was Skating Night at the local rink, sponsored by the PTA and for our elementary school only. Ironically, they spelled the name of the school wrong on the sign. Sigh. We skated in circles, listened to pop music, reveled in black lights, hokey pokied. Naomi is very, very keen on skating. It is so fun to watch her. The first few times we went, she looked like a little marching robot. Now she has gotten the hang of it, and glides around pretty convincingly. I still look wobbly. Skating is new when you haven't done it in, mmm, 25 years or something? It doesn't say anything good about me that I seemed to get better when they played the Bee Gees.
See you tomorrow!
Monday, June 20, 2011
Happy Father's Day!
Although there is much catching up to do, I wonder if that would even work. Seems like not. Yesterday (I'll go all the way back there!) was Father's Day, and Jim dutifully lounged around in bed with the laptop, pretending that he had no interest in getting up, while the world's slowest cook and her two young scullery maids put some breakfast-in-bed together. We had bacon-wrapped arugula frittata with homemade foccacia bread. In the interest of full disclosure, the focaccia bread began its life as a tube of refrigerated pizza dough. Still, it all came out pretty yummy.
In the afternoon we took the kids across the street to hang around with our neighbor, Sheila. She is a retired school teacher, and Grandma-aged, and the kids think she is the bees knees. She agreed to let them plague her for a bit while Jim and I went for a run together. (Wheeze.)
When I went to pick them up, they had just started a book, so I hung around with them for a while. When the story was finished, Muriel said, "Sheila, did you make your dad breakfast in bed? Because I did!"
Sheila was only a tiny bit thrown. She said, "My dad isn't here."
"Oh," said Muriel. "Where is he?"
Sheila raised her eyebrows at me. "Do you want me to tell her?" she said. I shrugged. My kids are chillingly cavalier about death.
"Well," she said, "The last time I saw him, he was in New Jersey."
In the afternoon we took the kids across the street to hang around with our neighbor, Sheila. She is a retired school teacher, and Grandma-aged, and the kids think she is the bees knees. She agreed to let them plague her for a bit while Jim and I went for a run together. (Wheeze.)
When I went to pick them up, they had just started a book, so I hung around with them for a while. When the story was finished, Muriel said, "Sheila, did you make your dad breakfast in bed? Because I did!"
Sheila was only a tiny bit thrown. She said, "My dad isn't here."
"Oh," said Muriel. "Where is he?"
Sheila raised her eyebrows at me. "Do you want me to tell her?" she said. I shrugged. My kids are chillingly cavalier about death.
"Well," she said, "The last time I saw him, he was in New Jersey."
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
May Whee
In one of the many driving-in-the-car scenarios in which the children entreat me to tell them a story and I lazily turn it around and compel them to tell me a story, Muriel was up to the task. As usual, we all clamored that it should have a scary part. Here is what Muriel said:
"Once upon a time there was a mean and scary ghost. Every day, he would go out and steal someone's puppy."
That is both mean and scary! Wow.
Lots and lots has been going on. Like, um, let's see, oh, right! The ENTIRE month of April! I did finally donate blood. I had a lovely girls' weekend with my homegirl from Boise. Jim and I went to a Paul Simon concert with our friends. Naomi participated in her first ever science fair. The guys who are working on a huge renovation to the neighbors' house next door have magically removed our patio, the patio cover, all the grass in the front yard, and our decaying extra parking space. We're getting ready to hire someone to re-do our bathroom.
And...the dog died. It was the first of May, very early in the morning. I was fast asleep, and Jim came in and said, Honey. Honey. He never wakes me up, so I knew something was wrong. It's Luna, he said. She died.
She was where she always sleeps, where the living room meets the bottom of the stairs, and looking like she always looks, but with her eyes a little open. She was so soft, and beautiful, and I petted her and cried and cried of course and am crying again right now writing about it. The kids finally woke up and came out, and Muriel was a little teary when she saw how upset I was, and Naomi immediately started to strategize about how to make the situation better, saying, We can get a goldfish, we can get another dog. We all said goodbye to her and then Jim took her to the emergency vet clinic where they cremate your pet for you.
This past Monday I walked down there to pick her up, thinking it would be good exercise and I would be able to distract myself, keep my head clear, and just think about everything. Turns out what I was able to do was sob openly half of the way there and the whole way back, with the little box of Luna's remains in a sunny yellow fabric bag in my hand. I'm so glad I thought to bring my sunglasses!
Anyway, I am half considering writing a post about Luna, who really deserves it. It would be the longest post ever. Girlfriend was with me 15 years! But for now, this is it, Happy May, see you 'round.
"Once upon a time there was a mean and scary ghost. Every day, he would go out and steal someone's puppy."
That is both mean and scary! Wow.
Lots and lots has been going on. Like, um, let's see, oh, right! The ENTIRE month of April! I did finally donate blood. I had a lovely girls' weekend with my homegirl from Boise. Jim and I went to a Paul Simon concert with our friends. Naomi participated in her first ever science fair. The guys who are working on a huge renovation to the neighbors' house next door have magically removed our patio, the patio cover, all the grass in the front yard, and our decaying extra parking space. We're getting ready to hire someone to re-do our bathroom.
And...the dog died. It was the first of May, very early in the morning. I was fast asleep, and Jim came in and said, Honey. Honey. He never wakes me up, so I knew something was wrong. It's Luna, he said. She died.
She was where she always sleeps, where the living room meets the bottom of the stairs, and looking like she always looks, but with her eyes a little open. She was so soft, and beautiful, and I petted her and cried and cried of course and am crying again right now writing about it. The kids finally woke up and came out, and Muriel was a little teary when she saw how upset I was, and Naomi immediately started to strategize about how to make the situation better, saying, We can get a goldfish, we can get another dog. We all said goodbye to her and then Jim took her to the emergency vet clinic where they cremate your pet for you.
This past Monday I walked down there to pick her up, thinking it would be good exercise and I would be able to distract myself, keep my head clear, and just think about everything. Turns out what I was able to do was sob openly half of the way there and the whole way back, with the little box of Luna's remains in a sunny yellow fabric bag in my hand. I'm so glad I thought to bring my sunglasses!
Anyway, I am half considering writing a post about Luna, who really deserves it. It would be the longest post ever. Girlfriend was with me 15 years! But for now, this is it, Happy May, see you 'round.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Duh
I had a blood donation appointment over the lunch hour yesterday, and I went to it, and filled out the questionnaire with the mildly intrusive personal questions, but I left the one at the top blank. The one at the top was something along the lines of "Are you feeling well and healthy today?" Yes or No? Seems like an easy question, right?
But I was not sure. Because I am not feeling 100% well and healthy. I woke up the day before yesterday with a bit of a sore throat, and I've had a little groggy haze on me since then. On the other hand, I was feeling better yesterday than I was the day before, and at no point did I feel like I was truly sick, or consider staying home from work, or anything like that.
And, maybe I'm flattering myself here, but these people really, really want my blood. They call me ALL the time. So in some part of my head, as I was studiously filling out little circles about tattoos and anticoagulants and partners, and dreaming up a little teeny version of those bingo parlor markers to speed up form completion, I was thinking that there might be a pretty low bar for feeling well and healthy.
Which is, of course, ridiculous. As soon as I started to explain that I wasn't sure about the VERY FIRST QUESTION on the form, I realized that I should have stopped right at the first little circle and approached the counter. Better yet, I should have called them and asked, before I drove down there. Geez. To the credit of the lovely people at the blood center, they did not openly mock me. They even went so far as to say it was up to me whether I thought I was too sick to donate.
So, no blood donation for me yesterday. No grape juice box, no Keebler cookies. And to the person who does not get a low-grade cold with their blood transfusion, you're welcome. I will bring my healthy self back next week and hook you up.
But I was not sure. Because I am not feeling 100% well and healthy. I woke up the day before yesterday with a bit of a sore throat, and I've had a little groggy haze on me since then. On the other hand, I was feeling better yesterday than I was the day before, and at no point did I feel like I was truly sick, or consider staying home from work, or anything like that.
And, maybe I'm flattering myself here, but these people really, really want my blood. They call me ALL the time. So in some part of my head, as I was studiously filling out little circles about tattoos and anticoagulants and partners, and dreaming up a little teeny version of those bingo parlor markers to speed up form completion, I was thinking that there might be a pretty low bar for feeling well and healthy.
Which is, of course, ridiculous. As soon as I started to explain that I wasn't sure about the VERY FIRST QUESTION on the form, I realized that I should have stopped right at the first little circle and approached the counter. Better yet, I should have called them and asked, before I drove down there. Geez. To the credit of the lovely people at the blood center, they did not openly mock me. They even went so far as to say it was up to me whether I thought I was too sick to donate.
So, no blood donation for me yesterday. No grape juice box, no Keebler cookies. And to the person who does not get a low-grade cold with their blood transfusion, you're welcome. I will bring my healthy self back next week and hook you up.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Slow Down!
The other day I was complaining to a coworker that I was never able to make this particular monthly work meeting because it starts at eight o'clock and I am on the hook to deliver a Kindergartener to her classroom between 8:25 and 8:40 every day. I can't remember if I was expressing frustration about missing the meeting (doesn't sound like me), or frustration about the inflexibility of Kindergarten start times, but whatever I complained about, my coworker came back with some wise, soothing words about how the important thing was to focus on enjoying dropping my kid off at school.
At the time, it felt like an Aha! moment, a gift from this wiser parent to me. Of course it should be a delight to drop my child off at school. Why focus on it as one more thing that I have to do that gets in the way of the other seventy-five things I have to do? And I thought about it that way for a few days. In fact, I put my whole morning focus off the constant hectoring to move and get socks on and brush hair and onto just hanging around and having pleasant conversation (which Naomi and I do, after Jim leaves with Muriel, quite often, and with sometimes funny results). The outcome, that week, was that we were very nearly late to school four out of five days.
The takeaway, I guess, is that simply being more mellow and less frantic doesn't make things run more smoothly, it just makes them less frantic. Which I KNOW is better for the kids. I know it stresses them out when I herd them from breakfast to clothes to socks to grooming to lunch bags, and so forth. They talk about it all the time. And just because I feel better being eight minutes early to school instead of 30 seconds early, it doesn't make it actually better. But how do I get those seven and a half minutes back while still leaving behind the frantic? And, to go back to the sage advice from my coworker, how do I make something like the daily drop-off into a meaningful thing that we do together instead of a to-do item we tick off every day?
At the time, it felt like an Aha! moment, a gift from this wiser parent to me. Of course it should be a delight to drop my child off at school. Why focus on it as one more thing that I have to do that gets in the way of the other seventy-five things I have to do? And I thought about it that way for a few days. In fact, I put my whole morning focus off the constant hectoring to move and get socks on and brush hair and onto just hanging around and having pleasant conversation (which Naomi and I do, after Jim leaves with Muriel, quite often, and with sometimes funny results). The outcome, that week, was that we were very nearly late to school four out of five days.
The takeaway, I guess, is that simply being more mellow and less frantic doesn't make things run more smoothly, it just makes them less frantic. Which I KNOW is better for the kids. I know it stresses them out when I herd them from breakfast to clothes to socks to grooming to lunch bags, and so forth. They talk about it all the time. And just because I feel better being eight minutes early to school instead of 30 seconds early, it doesn't make it actually better. But how do I get those seven and a half minutes back while still leaving behind the frantic? And, to go back to the sage advice from my coworker, how do I make something like the daily drop-off into a meaningful thing that we do together instead of a to-do item we tick off every day?
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Another Saturday Night
Jim is out fetching me a frozen treat, so this will be a quick one. Which reminds me that I have a little tense agreement issue on the last post that I would like to remember to fix. Will I? We'll see.
No doubt I have already written about how having children illuminates the extent to which personality traits might actually be written right into your genetic material. Today it occurred to me that my stubborn belief that it is only my inability to adequately explain my position that prevents people from going along with it, and my tendency to therefore continue to explain and counter-explain in an effort to get it right, might actually be genetic. Because I see Naomi do it every single day, when I say no to her, and she argues tirelessly. Because she is so absolutely committed to the idea that if I only just understood her objection, I would have to change my mind. Sigh.
Tonight at bedtime the girls told me what sports they were going to excel in later in life. Basketball, field hockey, Foosball, Carrom, and Flaptacular. The last one is a Disney-branded Tinkerbell version of a card game I think we used to call "Spit," a deck for which we received in a birthday party goodie bag today. Flaptacular! I find Disney branding evil as a rule, but I have to give them some credit for that awesomely ridiculous name.
Here's a picture of us sledding in Arizona last month. More soon!
No doubt I have already written about how having children illuminates the extent to which personality traits might actually be written right into your genetic material. Today it occurred to me that my stubborn belief that it is only my inability to adequately explain my position that prevents people from going along with it, and my tendency to therefore continue to explain and counter-explain in an effort to get it right, might actually be genetic. Because I see Naomi do it every single day, when I say no to her, and she argues tirelessly. Because she is so absolutely committed to the idea that if I only just understood her objection, I would have to change my mind. Sigh.
Tonight at bedtime the girls told me what sports they were going to excel in later in life. Basketball, field hockey, Foosball, Carrom, and Flaptacular. The last one is a Disney-branded Tinkerbell version of a card game I think we used to call "Spit," a deck for which we received in a birthday party goodie bag today. Flaptacular! I find Disney branding evil as a rule, but I have to give them some credit for that awesomely ridiculous name.
Here's a picture of us sledding in Arizona last month. More soon!
Sunday, March 20, 2011
First Day of Spring
Ahh, nice weekend! Sunbreaks! Supermoon! Leisure! We had a little break from the pouring, inexorable rain, and the kids actually got to play outside.
Plus, they had one of those days when their play is so very together, so harmonious and delighted, that it strikes an almost unbearably pleasant chord in me I wouldn't even have been able to hear before the two of them came along.
So, yeah, welcome, spring! Please to muscle through the rainclouds again sometime soon. Next weekend would be good.
Plus, they had one of those days when their play is so very together, so harmonious and delighted, that it strikes an almost unbearably pleasant chord in me I wouldn't even have been able to hear before the two of them came along.
So, yeah, welcome, spring! Please to muscle through the rainclouds again sometime soon. Next weekend would be good.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Anecdotally Adults
Where I work there are web pages that we make, with, you know, information on them, and people who are in search of this information have the option to provide feedback on the information. Occasionally they do, and when they do, the web page sends an email to someone with the feedback. Because I was one of the saps who learned how to make these web pages back when we first started doing it, often these emails get sent to me. Every single one is a complaint. It is my job to log some response to the complaint in the system that tracks this feedback, although the submitter never sees my response. I usually say, "We're working on this." or "I fixed the broken link." Helpful!
The longer my setups get, the more I lose faith in the payoff. Oh well. So a few weeks ago I got... a positive feedback form. "The material is clear and easy to understand." Sweet Mother Mary, positive feedback! The headline of the email even included the unusual phrase "(no action required)". I forwarded it to my team lead, with the incredulous note, "Not sure this has ever happened before." Then I forgot about it. Until the team lead, a few weeks later, forwarded it to ALL the writers in our group. With my super-encouraging note included. Excellent. Good work, everyone!
So that's the work side. At home, also known as "Where I Do Laundry," I was...wait for it...getting ready to start a load of laundry. I asked Mr. Khooler if he wanted me to wash the jeans and the gray pajamas that were on top of the hamper, which is kind of the demilitarized zone between obviously clean and obviously dirty. He says, The what?
Me: The gray pajamas.
Him: The gray pajamas?
Me: The gray pajamas.
Him: Wait, the gray pajamas?
Me: ????
Him: The gray pajamas?
Me: Are you trying to get me to gouge out my own eyes?
So I bring out the pajamas, which were a Christmas present from me, actually, and are flannel, dark gray (I might have invented this since, but I would swear that the price tag actually had the word "Charcoal" on it) with a white grid pattern. I say, THE GRAY PAJAMAS.
He says, Those are green.
So, the good news is that he is not trying to gaslight me. The bad news is that one of us might be colorblind. Hmm.
The kids are alright. More on them another time.
The longer my setups get, the more I lose faith in the payoff. Oh well. So a few weeks ago I got... a positive feedback form. "The material is clear and easy to understand." Sweet Mother Mary, positive feedback! The headline of the email even included the unusual phrase "(no action required)". I forwarded it to my team lead, with the incredulous note, "Not sure this has ever happened before." Then I forgot about it. Until the team lead, a few weeks later, forwarded it to ALL the writers in our group. With my super-encouraging note included. Excellent. Good work, everyone!
So that's the work side. At home, also known as "Where I Do Laundry," I was...wait for it...getting ready to start a load of laundry. I asked Mr. Khooler if he wanted me to wash the jeans and the gray pajamas that were on top of the hamper, which is kind of the demilitarized zone between obviously clean and obviously dirty. He says, The what?
Me: The gray pajamas.
Him: The gray pajamas?
Me: The gray pajamas.
Him: Wait, the gray pajamas?
Me: ????
Him: The gray pajamas?
Me: Are you trying to get me to gouge out my own eyes?
So I bring out the pajamas, which were a Christmas present from me, actually, and are flannel, dark gray (I might have invented this since, but I would swear that the price tag actually had the word "Charcoal" on it) with a white grid pattern. I say, THE GRAY PAJAMAS.
He says, Those are green.
So, the good news is that he is not trying to gaslight me. The bad news is that one of us might be colorblind. Hmm.
The kids are alright. More on them another time.
Sunday, March 06, 2011
Un-Habituated
I am so out of the habit of posting that it doesn't even occur to me, even when there is plenty going on. Apologies, ye last two loyal checkers of this blog.
The other evening, just after I picked up Muriel, we saw one of those wacky little single occupant cars that look like something from the Jetsons. I don't know what they are called so I can't even link to information about them. When Muriel saw it, she said, "But how can they pick up their dears?" A valid question!
Last weekend we capped off a trip to see my parents with a stay at a giant house in north eastern Arizona with my whole family. This trip was to celebrate my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. 50 years! I remember around 37 of them. It was a good time- we went sledding one day and skiing another. There was copious snack food and uncomfortable rental home beds. Overall a very nice chance to spend time with the family.
This weekend we held Naomi's birthday party. 14 kids total, milling around our not quite large enough house, dressed in costumes and just generally, well, screaming. There seemed to be a lot of screaming, and also a lot of chanting. It was a long two hours.
Oops, now the computer battery is looking wan and red. Time to call it a night. I will not let the perfect be the enemy of the good. Which means, hopefully, more boring pointless posts on the way!
The other evening, just after I picked up Muriel, we saw one of those wacky little single occupant cars that look like something from the Jetsons. I don't know what they are called so I can't even link to information about them. When Muriel saw it, she said, "But how can they pick up their dears?" A valid question!
Last weekend we capped off a trip to see my parents with a stay at a giant house in north eastern Arizona with my whole family. This trip was to celebrate my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. 50 years! I remember around 37 of them. It was a good time- we went sledding one day and skiing another. There was copious snack food and uncomfortable rental home beds. Overall a very nice chance to spend time with the family.
This weekend we held Naomi's birthday party. 14 kids total, milling around our not quite large enough house, dressed in costumes and just generally, well, screaming. There seemed to be a lot of screaming, and also a lot of chanting. It was a long two hours.
Oops, now the computer battery is looking wan and red. Time to call it a night. I will not let the perfect be the enemy of the good. Which means, hopefully, more boring pointless posts on the way!
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