Heptadecagon

I Made This!

2012-02-10T14:12:00.004-05:00

This blog has been a bit whiny lately, and I apologize. But thank you for hanging in there!

There are many things that I can do. Unfortunately, sewing is not one of them. To be quite frank, I am not even that good when it comes to just sewing buttons back on. So, when the girls asked about making a skirt for the sock hop, I knew that I needed to find a no-sew version.

Well, I found one.

And I am proud to say that I was able to make Melina's skirt with minimal effort. I decided that I would make hers as the test case. I plan on having the girls help make their own skirts.

Melina and I made the trek to the craft store, practically bought out the store, and then made our way back home. The best purchase of the day, in my opinion, was my very own hot glue gun, in a nice shade of hot pink!

After we took everything out of the bags, I followed the directions. I took the next picture when I had already cut the circle for the skirt and the poodle out of felt. Notice the straight pins! I felt like a pro when I attached the poodle pattern to the felt using those pins.

And here is the finished product. I have yet to get a picture of Melina wearing the skirt, but I promise to get a picture of all the girls in their skirts once they are done.

By the way, the pink pom poms were Melina's idea. But I bet you knew that.

Speaking Of Circuses...

2012-02-09T18:10:00.004-05:00

This has not been my best week. While I seem to be saying that a lot lately, I am not too worried. It is winter, after all. Anyway, this week, I packed in far too many activities, most of which were not for my benefit. Of course, that statement is going to sound selfish to some people. But if you are going to have a crazy week, don't you think that there should be some fun involved? Well, I do!

I realized the other day, in what was my fourth trip to the kids' school within that day alone (so four trips back means eight total...gotta keep up on my math), that I was feeling as though I couldn't tell the difference between my life and the circus we went to the previous Sunday. Usually, my life is better compared to being at the zoo: full of exotic animals and rife with weird smells. But this week, I have felt as though I was literally in the center ring of a three ring circus. If I looked to the left, I saw the juggling act, struggling, I might add, to keep all the balls in the air. If I looked to the right, I saw the unicycle people, with their arms out to the sides, hoping to keep the balance. And in that center ring with me? Well, there were the monkeys: jumping and flying and just going crazy.

So, I am sitting back right now, just taking a breather, because I am certain I will stumble upon another act tomorrow. Let's hope it isn't the tightrope walker.

It's All In A Name

2012-02-07T05:49:00.004-05:00

Many of you have seen this posted on Facebook, but I have some readers who have not joined, and likely never will. And they are important readers, i.e. the grandparents. So, I am posting a picture of Melina and the chalkboard, on which she wrote her name. She is pretty good about writing the letter M, and the letter A. (Hmmm, I can't imagine why.) She needed a reminder of what the other letters looked like although she can recognize and partially form them all by herself. Furthermore, I held her wrist for some of the letters.

So, while Melina did do a pretty good job of writing her own name, I can be honest and say she had a little help. But, we are moving in the proper direction. She was especially proud of herself after accomplishing this task, and I think she had every right to be.

Under The Big Top

2012-02-06T11:03:00.005-05:00

A couple of weeks back, the Shriners called us and asked if we'd support them by buying tickets to the annual circus. I asked them to call back the next night, and then I went and asked Tim. Tim is not a fan of clowns, and I certainly didn't want to buy tickets to something he wouldn't attend. And, I had no plans to bring 4 kids to a circus by myself.

Well, Tim works with a Shriner, so at work the next day, he spoke to the Shriner, and bought some tickets to the Sunday afternoon show. Melina was especially excited for the circus. She asked every day this past week if that particular day was the day we were planning to go. When she came down with a cold, I told her that she'd need to be better, and without fever, before she could go to the circus. Thankfully, a fever never manifested, and her symptoms abated by yesterday.

So to the circus we went. And let me say that we all enjoyed the show.

First off, we didn't have to pay to park. That seemed a little odd to both Tim and I, but we don't look a gift horse in the mouth. The lot wasn't nearly full when we got to the arena, so our parking spot was actually pretty perfect. Once inside the arena, it was easy to find our seats. The seats were very good ones; the little ones with us had no trouble seeing anything. I do think that all the seats were probably pretty good, but we were close enough to see faces and details that you might not be able to see further back.

Now, as many of you know, the Shriners are considered a charitable organization. So we didn't just go to a circus. They had set up an elephant ride, a pony ride, a snake photo booth, and a bounce house. These extras were interesting and cool, but thankfully, the kids didn't ask to get on any rides. I imagine that the tokens you bought to get on the rides were a way to raise more money, so they tried to serve as many people as they could. Therefore, the 1 pm show actually didn't start until 1:30 or so. It didn't matter too much. The rides and the clowns and just the entire aura were enough to keep our kids occupied while they waited.

Much to my surprise, the show itself was great. I have been to one other circus in my life, and I don't remember anything about it. But I think the kids might remember this one. There were dancers, jugglers, a balancing act, and a trapeze artist. People rode unicyles and bicycles; a couple performed a quick change scene; there were rhesus monkeys, elephants, dogs, high wire acts, motorcycles in a cage, balancing circles, and clowns. The kids sat there, mesmerized, with a bucket of popcorn (reasonably priced, I might add) and smiles on their faces. Aaron whispered to me at one point, "This is better than I expected!" Overall the show did not disappoint, and all for 10 bucks a ticket!

Was there a downside? We were there a long time, as I said, since the show also offered rides during an intermission, which seemed interminable to me! And, the price of the circus souvenirs seemed a bit high, but that is usually how it goes when it comes to shows like this. Nobody says that we need to buy a circus souvenir should we go again next year.

***
The one thing I did not post, or even bother looking up before we bought tickets, is how fiscally responsible the Shriners are. Do I care about whether or not they are a good charitable organization to support? Usually, I do. But in this instance, we went to see a circus, and to be entertained, and I am guessing that at 10 bucks a pop, there isn't much of that money that gets used for anything other than the circus. The information is out there...I am just choosing to ignore it this time!

Mish Mash

2012-02-05T06:25:00.003-05:00

I was woken up this morning by Melina's voice over the monitor. We still need to use one of those, because she stays in bed until someone gets her. And, it is actually quite difficult to hear her when she calls out to us. In fact, she usually whispers.

This morning, however, was a bit different. The first thing I heard was her own version of Funny Bones, the book by Janet and Allan Ahlberg. Melina was talking about the big skeleton, little skeleton, and dog skeleton, and as I listened, she launched into singing about how the bones were connected. It was a little early for a Sunday morning, but her mirth gave me a good chuckle. I reluctantly got out of bed, and now, here we are.

***
Apparently, the teachers at the kids' school waver about the homework debate. Remember how I said that I went in to the principal's office to mourn the lack of homework? He pointed out the debate and said that I could request homework for my kids; the teachers should comply with my request. I found out last week that I am not the only one looking for homework AND several of the teachers believe in the "repetition, repetition, repetition" motto themselves. I do find it somewhat funny that Mrs. M, the girls' primary teacher, has been sending home more homework these days (still not that much). I don't know if it correlates with me volunteering in her classroom, and telling her, quite honestly, that the kids with whom I am working need lots of help (they do).

***
Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow again earlier in the week. That means six more weeks of winter are in store for us. But my question is this: When will winter actually start? I can count on my one hand the number of times so far, since December, that I have pulled out my parka. Lately, I've been tooling about town in sweaters and my down vests. Are we ever going to get winter, and if so, when? I hope it doesn't arrive in July, that is for certain.

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall

2012-02-03T10:11:00.003-05:00

The mirror has never been my favorite thing. I don't remember at what age I started to become especially critical of the way I looked, but at some point, it happened. My eyes weren't right, my nose was too large, my teeth could have been better. I tried reflecting (horrible pun there) on the good things, but you know how it is sometimes. Despite all the blessings you have, you see everything that you don't.

I find it fascinating, then, that Melina loves the mirror. I know -- that really shouldn't surprise me. Or you, for that matter, if you know anything about Melina. A kid who loves pink, princesses, fashion, and hair bows will probably like the mirror. But what I think is most fascinating to me is what I imagine goes through Melina's brain when she looks in the mirror.

Sometimes, I find Melina standing in front of the mirror, clothed in old pajamas and slippers, a big smile on her face. Other times, she stands there all decked out in fancy accoutrements, again with the same smile. It doesn't matter to her whether she is wearing those fancy accessories, because in her head, she is beautiful no matter what she has on. The fancy duds -- the pink headband with the flower, the sparkly shoes, the long braid -- they all are just icing on the cake she already is. And I love that! She is mesmerized by her own beauty, and I am mesmerized by her.

Of course, it doesn't matter to me what she wears or what she looks like. She is Melina, and I love her. Do I happen to think she is beautiful? Well of course; I am her mom, after all. I always tell her that it is the beauty within that we need to worry about more than what we look like on the outside. I don't want her to grow up vain. On the other hand, I think she should take pride in and be happy with what she looks like. I hope she is always this accepting of her looks, and if I could bottle that feeling she has, that complete and utter satisfaction at knowing you are a thing of beauty, I'd give it away for free.

What A Difference A Year Makes!

2012-02-02T19:18:00.002-05:00

February 2, 2011:
Ice everywhere, no power, Aaron sick, everyone else on the verge of being sick.

February 2, 2012:
Sun galore, 50ish degree weather, Melina has a cold, but smiles all around.

Need I say more?

And This Is Why I Am In Trouble

2012-02-01T10:54:00.002-05:00

I made bean soup, the girls' favorite meal, for their birthday yesterday. Only Aaron isn't a fan of the soup. Melina usually eats it happily.

Yesterday evening, when Melina came to the table to eat dinner, she looked at the meal that I had set at her place. Her lip started to quiver, and she put her head down. I saw a few tear drops hit the floor, and I had no idea what the problem was.

Me: Melina, what is wrong?
Melina: I didn't want bean soup. I wanted pasta.
Me: But you love bean soup. What's wrong with the bean soup?
Melina: If I drop the bean soup on my dress, it will stain.

Apparently, Melina is more concerned with fashion that with food. God help me.

One Decade Down

2012-01-31T10:38:00.002-05:00

Zoe and Talia turn 10 today. I remember feeling, last year, that I needed to make every moment with them count, and since the year went fast, I guess I better get going. It seems so unreal that my little ladies can be 10. The girls asked me this morning if they would feel any different, and while I said probably not, I think it is because I can't really remember what turning 10 felt like. I remember turning 10, which at the time it was a big deal, but did I feel different? Really, I just don't know.

I don't have the right words to convey to the girls what I hope they gained from the first decade of their life, nor can I tell them what I'd like for them to garner in the decades to come. But I can say this: it has been a privilege and a joy to be blessed with two little, funny, beautiful, kind, generous, smart, lovable, identical yet not, girls like them. I would have never thought it possible to love anyone as much as I love them (and of course, their siblings), and I look so forward to the years we have ahead of us.

Happy Birthday, Zoe and Talia!

Homework

2012-01-30T13:53:00.003-05:00

If you know anything about me, you know that I believe homework to be important. You probably also know that I don't think our kids get enough homework. While I do not think simple busy work is necessary, I do believe that practicing what you are learning is integral to actually succeeding. I certainly wouldn't watch someone tell me how to run 26.2 miles, and then think I could do it without practice. And, I wouldn't even try to play a piano concerto by only going to piano lessons once a week. In my mind, practicing what you are learning is tantamount to mastering the subject.

The teachers have said that with all of the things they do during the day, they don't feel that homework is important. The principal, who is in his second year at the school and is working hard to keep a standard of excellence for the school, has up until now, supported the teachers. However, Mr. C is open to comments and suggestions. Plus, he and I so far have a good rapport. It isn't odd for me to pop my head in and ask him a question from time to time, when I am in the building. Last week, I did just that.

First and foremost, Mr. C. acknowledged my homework concerns. I was coming off a volunteer stint with some 4th graders who, even now, do not know their multiplication facts. Because they don't know them, they are having trouble with division, and the introduction to algebra that Mrs. M is giving them. I could tell they were frustrated, and it frustrated me! Truth be told, the parents clearly aren't doing anything at home; how hard is it for the teacher to send a worksheet home? A bit of practice, and those tables will be memorized! Mr. C could appreciate where I was coming from.

He then mentioned that there are 2 sides to the homework issue. He figured, and he was right, that I already knew about the debate, so we didn't go into the pros and cons of homework. He isn't going to sway me, at least not in terms of my kids. Perhaps some kids don't need the practice, but mine do. Mr. C mentioned that I could request homework from the teachers, and that they should abide by my request. He applauded my efforts to get the best education for my kids. The conversation was short but useful to me.

But the debate topic got me thinking. Who funded the research that says that homework isn't useful? And who supports that thinking the most? I can appreciate it if educators themselves don't like giving homeowork. I am an educator myself. The more homework I give, the more work I have to do at home. However, even at the college level, most of my students benefit from repeated exposure, which they are getting by doing the assignments. So, while I admit that I haven't done my own research into the topic, I guess I very well should, just so that I am more informed.

I think I just gave myself some homework!

Feelin' The Love

2012-01-26T11:00:00.003-05:00

I have had a headache for much of the past 4 days. I don't usually get headaches, unless I am dehydrated or hungry, neither of which applies in this case. I have had a sinus headache before, the type where you want to pound your head against the wall. But I don't have a cold, and my teeth and cheeks aren't hurting either. Perhaps it is the weather, or the fact that my hormones might be cycling differently these days. I don't have an answer, and I don't expect you to have one.

But on a day like this -- when my head hurts, the cats have already destroyed the basement again, and the rain is falling quickly -- I'd like to crawl back into bed and not come out. As I pulled out of the driveway to bring Melina to school, I had to stop myself from pulling back into the garage. The only thing that kept me going forward was the fact that I was expected to help with 4th grade this morning. If not for that, I would have called Melina's school, told them she wouldn't be coming, and we'd have snuggled up with some tea and books.

Lest you think this post will be nothing but one large complaint, the reason I started writing today was because, in the midst of all this yuck, I've been feeling the internet love. I don't get that many comments on my musings, but just enough to know that the people I know and love are out there and listening. And I appreciate every comment, even the snarky ones. So thanks for the love. On days like this, I could really use it.

Torn

2012-01-25T20:18:00.002-05:00

So. I have mentioned many a time that we have cats. Usually, when they do something wrong, I sit here before the computer, vent, and move on.

At this point, though, I am tired of my cats, and stand at a crossroad. I hate to say that I might slip with a lovely overdose of insulin, but as wicked as that sounds, I just might. These two critters, my once beloved Lucy and Ferdinand, are actually driving me bananas.

Here is the short list of their egregious (and repetitive) errors:

Urinating on the basement carpet, and not in the litter box.
Defecating on the basement carpet, and not in the litter box.
Vomiting just about anywhere, and of course, not in the litter box.

You might say that we should just train them to clean it all up, but that ain't happening. I am sick and tired of being sick and tired from cleaning up after these cats. I think they do these things to make me angry, or to tell me that they are angry.

Here is why I think they might be angry:

One of them urinated outside the box and the urine ran in front of their food bowls. Therefore, to eat, they had to stand in a light coating of urine. Disgusting, right? I agree. But I can't check on their habitat 3 times a day just to make sure it is clean.
There was poop in the litter box. Yep, there was. BUT THEY HAVE THREE (3) LITTER BOXES TO USE! If I found poop in one of my three toilets, I'd just use another one, wouldn't you? Or flush it, of course. Which makes me think we should get flushing litter boxes.
The blue water bowl wasn't full. Can we say prima donna? Again, they have more than one water bowl to use.

Any suggestions from the cat lovers? I'll take any advice I can get. I am assuming that the cat haters I know would just fill that syringe a little fuller the next time we give Ferdinand the insulin.

Different Views

2012-01-24T10:35:00.004-05:00

This was my conversation with Zoe last night.

Z: Mom, I think I might need deodorant for gym class days.
Me: You do? Why do you think that?
Z: Um, because I get all sweaty and then I stink.
Me: You do? How do you know?
Z: Well, I sniffed myself.
Me: Okay, well. Let me sniff.
Z: Okay. [Zoe lifts up her arm, and I sniff.]
Me: Yep, you do.
Z: [Smile]
Me: [Freak]

Neither Zoe nor Talia argued with me this morning when I asked them to take a quick shower before getting ready for school. In fact, they were more than willing. And when I gave them my deodorant (I later went to the store and got them each their own), a smile spread across each of their faces, an epic smile, as those two are wont to say.

This growing up thing? I am not ready for it, that is for sure. And those two? Well, I think they just might be.

Monday Mornings

2012-01-23T08:31:00.003-05:00

I used to like Monday mornings. Yes, my feelings went against the consensus, but I did. The kids would go off to school, and I could start on my week. The quarter I taught on Monday mornings was a bit difficult because I felt like I started the week running instead of walking. But aside from that, Monday and a new week were always somewhat exciting.

Until recently. Now, Monday mornings have become the bane of my existence. For a multitude of reasons (which might be discussed in another post), including the very loud snoring of my wonderful husband, I haven't been sleeping well. And then, Monday morning comes too soon.

The kids come down, a bit after I've literally stumbled out of bed, and the questions start. What is for breakfast? Have you seen my bag? Mom, are you coming for math centers today? What is evolution? How do our kidneys work and what do they do? And what about organ transplants? Seriously, all of those questions have been posed on a Monday morning.

I am thrilled that the kids are thinking, but the clanging of the voices is what gets to me sometimes. So right now, I am letting in all the silence that encompasses the 30 seconds it takes for Melina to drink her water. It has infused me, and reinvigorated me, and hopefully, it will make up for the fact that I will be working on 4.5 hours of sleep last night. We'll see.

The List

2012-01-18T11:37:00.003-05:00

Kelsey wanted to know if I was going to share what I actually did all day. While it doesn't make for the most interesting of reads, my list might actually make you feel better about yourself.

Please remember that I did not mention any bathroom time for myself. (And I must have forgotten about Shadow's bathroom time, as he appears nowhere on this list. I know he didn't hold it all day!) Also, you might say that I wrote some items down twice. But if I put away dishes from the drainer two times, at different times of the day, then those are completely separate instances. Therefore, put away dishes would be recorded twice. Furthermore, you might say, once you've read my list, that it was exhaustive. It was. When I made dinner, I broke the act of making dinner into the individual things I had to do. However, I thought that maybe the person that requested my list wanted me to account for every minute of the day. And so I did.

And here you have it:

Get dressed.
Make decaf coffee.
Make Aaron's lunch, and get him breakfast.
Make 1/2 of the girls' lunches.
Make regular coffee.
Put away pot from the night before.
Put water on for pasta (2nd half of girls' lunches).
Put away dishes.
Eat breakfast.
Read book for a couple of minutes while having coffee.
Get Melina up, put her on the potty, get her dressed (I guess this is 3 in 1; I have a few of those).
Wake the girls.
Grab Aaron's clothes.
Make breakfast for the girls.
Give Ferdinand insulin.
Put away lunch fixings and insulin.
Pour in pasta, set timer.
Put the mail out in the mailbox.
Load the dishwasher with first half of breakfast dishes.
Finish up lunches.
Put away leftover pasta.
Clear table, rinse dishes, load dishwasher with 2nd half of dishes, set dishwasher to go.
Put Melina on the potty.
Get my coat and go to the bus stop with the kids.
Put uneaten English muffin in the fridge and get pasta for Melina's breakfast.
Drink more decaf and read to Melina.
Do Melina's hair and get cheese slices for her.
Put Melina on the potty.
Brush my teeth.
Do the last of the breakfast dishes.
Put kids' random shoes away, put Melina's socks and shoes on.
Call Tara, get my shoes on.
Help Melina brush her teeth.
Get bag, purse, keys and get in the car to drop Melina off at school. Return.
Turn on the computer.
Walk to Tess's house, stay there for 40 minutes, come back.
Put clothes away.
Check email.
Empty the dishwasher.
Put random things away around the house.
Write.
Go to the library.
Get Melina from school, put her on the potty and wash her hands.
Start lunch for Melina.
Get mail, hang up my coat.
Settle Melina with lunch, and then make my own.
Eat.
Clean up dishes from lunch.
Empty the sharps container (insulin needles).
Sort through the recycling pile.
Take Melina upstairs for nap.
Collect upstairs garbage.
Chop potatoes for dinner.
Feed cats (dry food in the basement).
Put dry dishes away that were in the drainer (from breakfast).
Read.
Check on potatoes, stir, season.
Pull out recycling from my room.
Start chocolate roses for book club.
Pull out sausage to defrost.
Get Melina up from nap and take to the potty.
Finish up making chocolates.
Change Melina into her standard uniform of halter dress, tights, and sparkly shoes.
Let the kids in from school.
Put away lunch boxes, wash up lunch box dishes.
Get snack for the kids.
Test Aaron on spelling and other homework.
Give the girls math homework.
Start pancake batter for dinner.
Check girls' math.
Make the pancakes, put in warm oven.
Clean up pancake mess.
Start sausage.
Help Talia with piano.
Check sausage, add water.
Put Melina on the potty.
Help Talia with piano again.
Clean up back hallway.
Fill lunch water bottles for the next day.
Put more random things away.
Load snack dishes into dishwasher.
Wipe up spills at Melina's little kitchen.
Pull out eggs from fridge.
Put leftover dishes in drainer away.
Make eggs, put into oven to warm.
Help set the table.
Eat dinner.
Do dinner dishes (the kids cleared the table).
Feed the dog and give him water.
Make popcorn for after dinner snack for the kids.
Refill our popcorn kernel container.
Tie the other popcorn bag and put it away.
Sign Aaron up for soccer.
Blog.
Fill Melina's water.
Flush the toilet that someone forgot to flush.
Get Melina ready for bed.
Read Melina two stories and turn out the light.
Give Ferdinand his evening dose of insulin.
Clear the table of anything that got left out.
Write.
Shower and put pajamas on.
Wipe counters, throw out trash.
Brush teeth, get into bed, read.
Turn out the light and go to sleep.

Monotonous. Mundane. Mine.

And it's all good.

In The News

2012-01-14T06:49:00.010-05:00

The unfortunate death of a little girl at a school on January 3 made me realize that I never put my two cents out here on a book I recently read. If you want to read articles about the little girl, Ammaria Johnson, aged 7, you can find them anywhere on the web. I don't want to trivialize this little girl's life, or her death, but I also don't actually have the facts, so I hesitate to put anything here on the blog. I would like to say, though, that it seems as if her death could have been easily prevented.

Ammaria had food allergies, specifically, she died from a peanut allergy. According to some websites, a friend gave her a peanut on the playground, the school didn't have the correct medicine to deal with it, and she died. I don't mean to sound judgmental. I am not the authority on any allergy, but I feel as though there so many things wrong with that picture, I am not certain where to start.

My only experience with allergies has been through a friend of mine. Her daughter has a severe peanut allergy, among other allergies, and through this friend and her daughter, I have learned so much about food allergies. What they are, how severe they can be, or how mild they also can be. How to try to avoid exposure, and how to educate yourself, your family, your friends. When I read about the death of Ammaria, my skin wanted to crawl. A couple of questions popped up in my head, and I just couldn't get them out.

Did the family tell the school about her allergy? If not, the family was negligent.
If Ammaria had a documented case of peanut allergy, why didn't the school have an Epipen or Benadryl on hand? Again, negligence, this time on the part of the school and the parents. Where was her advocate?
More importantly, why wasn't Ammaria just wearing an Epipen? I realize that money could be an issue here, and with #2, which could get me started on healthcare in America. I won't start, for the sake of brevity.
Did Ammaria just make a mistake, a quick bad call in judgment, by taking something she knew was bad for her, or was there malicious intent on the part of the kid who gave her the peanut? Was it disguised somehow? This, perhaps, we'll never know.

I know that my friend, and her daughter, have tried for years to avoid the above situation. The few times that this dear girl has had some issues with allergies, my family has been involved. Therefore, I have tried to become hyper vigilant when it comes to reading nutrition labels, handling food, washing hands, and offering food to people. Her mother has worked with our school district and the elementary school to make sure that the necessary information and medication are available for her daughter. Our school has peanut free rooms, a peanut free table at lunch, and a decent communication system for making people aware of food allergies. The daughter wears a fanny pack (complete with Epipen), everyday, so that if by some chance she encounters an allergen, she is able to do something about it. More importantly, the mom has drilled into her child's head, that she is never to accept food from anyone, even a trusted teacher (and especially not another student). She just can't do that, or an allergic reaction can result. And if that can happen, then so can death.

While I don't know for certain, I am guessing that Ammaria's death might be a case where an accident happened. Ammaria might have been out on the playground, having a great time playing in the sun with good friends, and just didn't think about what she was about to do. At that young age, circumstances will arise all the time where "not thinking" is bound to happen.

Aside from her death, I find it so sad that there wasn't a system in place to cancel out her mistake. I don't know why there wasn't medication in the front office. As I said above, I know Epipens are expensive, but Benadryl is not, and administration of Benadryl, even if you can get just a minute bit into the child, can buy you some time. Ammaria's death hopefully will make every school district out there evaluate their allergy policies. Are the policies currently in place enough to prevent another death? And are the teachers and staff educated in how to deal with an allergic reaction? I would hope so.

So, amongst all the news about Ammaria Johnson, it reminded me of Sandra Beasley's, Don't Kill The Birthday Girl: Tales From An Allergic Life. This book was an eye opening read for me, in many ways, and a title I would suggest anyone with allergies, or in contact with someone with allergies, should read.

As the title implies, Sandra Beasley writes about her life growing up with allergies. She is a young (early 30s) woman who has many diagnosed allergies: beef, shellfish, soy, pinenuts, mango, mustard, dairy and egg, to name a few. She is, surprisingly, not allergic to peanuts. However, she grew up in a time when food allergies were just starting to rear their ugly heads a bit more. She grew up in a time when restaurants didn't realize that you can't just pull the mango out of an already prepared fruit salad and hand it to the person that requested a fruit salad, no mango.

Beasley's background is in writing, although the jacket tells that she is a poet, and her book reads easily. It wasn't too sciency, too preachy, or too scary, all of which could have happened in the wrong hands. She relays memories using vivid descriptions, and really emphasizes all of the situations that we -- as people without allergies -- take for granted.

Some of the things she and others like her need to worry about, but I have never even thought of? The presence of wheat in Play-Doh (although I have noticed the warning on the package), snack chips with whey (dairy) in them, and the presence of egg derivatives in baked goods. Beasley talks a lot about her luck over the years, considering that nutrition labels weren't mandatory until 1990, and allergy warnings weren't yet on the radar screen.

Reading her book made me really think that it was amazing that some people, especially those with severe allergies, have managed to survive into adulthood. It was apparent that Sandra Beasley's parents were devoted to helping their child live. They quizzed restaurants and made sure to bring snacks to other people's houses. Her parents made her so aware that she was different, and that she needed to be extra careful. You never know when casein is hidden in something now, do you?

Therefore, I was continually amazed at Beasley's lackadaisical and sometimes brazen attitude toward her allergy. This was especially apparent in her teen and college years. I guess this should not surprise me, as kids that age think they are invincible. But Beasley had to be tired of dealing with the reaction process. So why, why, would you purposefully eat french fries off of a plate that also held a hamburger? Remember, she is allergic to beef! She knowingly did this! And so, for the next 24 hours, she sat in a Benadryl induced haze until it was over.

At one point, she talks about her experience at a post graduation party for college (p.44):

...my drunken housemates decided to turn beer pong into "White Russian pong," sending a spray of milk and Kahlua into the air every time someone plunked a Ping-Pong ball into a Solo cup. I didn't object. I stood by, cheering for a team, not touching anything, hoping for the best.

That description floored me! Hoping for the best? She ended up, after an hour, having to get her boyfriend to take her to the ER, where she sat around the lobby, waiting for the Benadryl to work. Her memories of instances like that, actually made me angry. She was so cavalier about this allergy, and yet she got so mad at other people when they didn't take her allergies seriously. How can you ask someone else to take your allergy seriously when it seems that you don't yourself?

This isn't a science based writing, and Beasley didn't mean for it to be. But I almost put the book down early on, for I wasn't sure how accurate the writing was going to be. In my opinion and because of my training, when one cites a study within the text, one then provides the exact research article's tidbits, preferably in a footnote, or with a works cited page at the end. Beasley did not do this. I paged through to the back, looking for a works cited page so that I could find the name of the study to which she referred. It wasn't there. I found my answer in her acknowledgments, where she lists the journals she drew upon for the articles and abstracts. It seemed legit, so I went back to reading.

I am glad I did finish the book. As scary as it was, I would encourage young kids to read it when they are older, so that they can appreciate all the things that could happen, and to see how lucky one person turned out to be. I'd encourage libraries to stock it, including high school libraries. Perhaps her book can help further educate the lay people on the truths and the myths of allergies, and how one person struggles, for life. Her story could have turned out completely different. It is unfortunate that Ammaria's story did not.

And What Do You Do All Day?

2012-01-12T18:49:00.002-05:00

A person I know recently asked me to write down what I do in a day. I chuckled a little at the request. I figured that I wouldn't have the time to write down each and every thing I did, but I would put forth the best effort.

I decided to skip any details like personal bathroom time, but I figured that I'd put everything else on there. I won't bore you with the details of my day today, but I am already at 93 items on the list (94, now that I am blogging). And this was a day that I didn't run, teach, volunteer, or do any cleaning (including vacuuming).

When I look at the list, it really is ridiculous, but I am certain that most everyone's list would look that way. We all do a ton of things throughout the day, many of them, activities of which we aren't even aware.

Try it sometime, to make a list, and you will surprise yourself with all the things of which you are capable. Looking at it just might tire you out, too!

Speechless

2012-01-11T20:34:00.002-05:00

Two things caused me to be speechless today, which is rare.

Item #1: Tim brought home this article. It made my jaw drop. You don't have to agree with me, and since I am speechless, I'm not going to say anything else. Yet.

Item #2: When we left our beloved home state in 2003, we had to leave one of our favorite restaurants. I am not going to divulge the name, but it was a Mexican restaurant, not a chain, that just served good food. To this day, I can't quite replicate the refried beans or enchilada sauce, and Tim misses the really hot salsa.

I emailed the company a couple of days ago, just to see if they could let me in on a couple of the ingredients of their sauce. I knew that they wouldn't share the complete recipe, but I hoped for the name of even one spice that might make their enchilada sauce so mouthwatering good. Imagine my surprise when I received this email this evening (some items have been changed to protect the innocent):

Thank you so much for your interest in our restaurant. I am very flattered that you miss us and would write to us like this. Unfortunately I do not have any plans to expand to southern Ohio at the moment.

As far as recipes go I can't share all of our secrets. I can tell you that the red enchilada sauce recipe was taught to me by my father, the former owner of the A Chophouse in B. He published a couple of cook books that contain similar recipes.

This part is a long shot since southern Ohio is a big place. My brother just moved to C. I have a good friend in D. At the end of February I am planning to visit them both. If you live anywhere in between those two places I would actually get a kick out of making the second longest distance delivery in our history. Just a thought since I'll be bringing both of them some anyways.

Thank you again. Please feel free to contact us anytime.

I wrote a nice email in reply, explaining that we were, thankfully, right in between points C and D, but what I really wanted to say was just "Yes please!"

English Muffins

2012-01-10T12:09:00.002-05:00

We've been buying a lot of English Muffins around here lately. We used to get them only when company came over, as a somewhat fancier alternative to cereal, oatmeal, or toast, but then found out that Melina and Zoe really like them. Zoe tends to be more particular in her liking of this bread; she prefers the original kind, although it doesn't matter which brand. Melina will eat any of them: original, multigrain, wheat, you name it. Melina is not picky when it comes to her love of bread.

I finally got the idea to check my bread recipe book for a recipe to make English Muffins. And there it was! Now, I have had my bread machine for about 15 years, and I have had this particular recipe book for at least half that long. Furthermore, I actually do use my bread machine on a somewhat regular basis. But, I had never ventured into the world of homemade English muffins.

After Tim picked up some malt vinegar that was called for in the recipe, I decided to give these little morsels a shot. I loaded up the bread machine last night, and waited for the dough to be done. I then put the dough in the refrigerator overnight.

When I woke up at 5:30 am, I thought it would be a good thing to get out of bed. After all, I had muffins to make! That is when I read the rest of the recipe, and gasped. No, I hadn't missed anything, other than the fact that you do not bake the muffins, but cook them! Get out! Indeed, after rolling the dough in a ball, rolling the ball in cornmeal, and flattening out each "patty," you cook them, in a skillet, with the lid on. About 15 minutes after I put the first batch in, I had 3 round, fluffy, fantastic looking English muffins.

The ones I made opened easily with a fork and toasted up just fine. They are missing the famous "nooks and crannies" of the Thomas' brand, but if you aren't picky, then I guess you won't miss them. They also seemed a little doughy to me, but I think if I make thinner patties next time, it will all work out.

Melina ate one of the muffins with her usual zeal, which of course, was no surprise. The real test was Zoe. She said they were simply "okay." She just might have to live with life being "okay" considering the cost of making these muffins was much lower than buying them.

Calling All Aspiring Writers!

2012-01-09T10:36:00.005-05:00

This past Sunday, thanks to my good friend, Kelsey, I attended a free seminar on writing for young adults. I love to write, as many of you know, and I have a book in the works. Okay, it is really just a story at this point, and I probably will never try to have the book published. But I thought my kids would enjoy reading something like a fictionalized account of events that happened prior to their birth. I hope to have the story done in a couple of years (!) because of the limited amount of spare time that I have. I know that most of you reading this can relate.

Anyway, we went to this seminar, and the two writers there had plenty of good tips for writing. The more I thought about their tips, I realized that what they said applies to any genre of writing, whether you want to try your hand at horror, romance, realistic fiction, or fantasy. So, I am including the tips here. I am not recognizing the writers by name so that we can all keep some anonymity here. Plus, while I doubt that these ladies have copyrighted these tips, I don't want to cause any problems. These have been paraphrased, by me, by the way.

I can't remember how many actual tips they were supposed to give, but I ended up with 11. So here we go!

Read widely in whatever genre of writing you are planning on working in.
Think about the story you plan on writing as an exercise in research, and analyze everything! Ask lots of questions when you read, and ask yourself what is the author doing well, and what are they not doing well.
Start your story out with something of impact, and have a goal for the protagonist in mind.
Try to be around people similar to the audience for which you are writing. If you are writing for the young adults, then hang out where they will be found, i.e. the mall. This will help especially when you try to write dialogue.
Going with #4, make the story important and relevant to today's audience.
Don't water anything down or dumb it down if you are writing for young adults. This is true also if you plan on writing for kids. In short, the perspective must be authentic, which goes for any genre and age range.
A high stakes issue is very important to making a good story. The character should have to work through problems without having anyone else come in and fix everything.
The characters should be proactive.
Don't follow trends, unless you have something absolutely fresh to add to the story.
Don't be preachy.
Write what you love!

Topsy-Turvy

2012-01-06T12:21:00.003-05:00

When we bought our house, we had only 2 children and 2 cats. We also didn't own much, so we had quite a bit of space. Too much in fact. One of Tim's friends from work used to call our house austere, which was his somewhat nice way of calling it empty. Two more kids and a dog later, and the house is full. Somewhat too full, if you ask me.

So, Tim and I have been hauling things out of here: paper to be shredded, paper to be recycled, and anything that is useful that can be donated, all in an attempt to limit what we have. I certainly don't need all the books that we have, and I am certain that someone else can make good use of them. Same goes for Tim's trophies, apparently, and the oh-so-lovely ceramics that live in the basement, although I don't know from where they came.

In all the hubbub of tossing items, I started to get itchy. And I don't mean from the dust in the boxes. I mean that I needed to make some other changes in the household, so that it might actually run a bit smoother. So I moved things. I've always wanted a study and we had one, when we first moved here. Then Aaron came along. We also had a guest room, but that evaporated upon Melina's arrival. The guest room is a pipe dream, but I looked around and thought, we have enough space here to do something! I just needed to figure out what is was.

So, the dining room is no longer the dining room. I moved the thinking chair and ottoman in there, along with an old table and a bookshelf. Along with the chalkboard on the wall, it now makes for a great study area. The kids love it, and so far, so do I.

And where is the dining room, then? I moved that over to one half of the living room. We never needed a 25 X 13 living room. All that space did was collect more and more kid stuff. Now, half is for dining and Melina pretty much appropriated the other half. That is okay with me. When I am ready to put more adult furniture in there, I will likely just consider only half of the room when I am shopping. We'll see.

I wasn't sure Tim would like it, and I actually haven't asked him if he does. I am the one home most often, and if I am happy living this way, then he will likely be happy, too. If it doesn't work out, then we can always go back to the way it was.

(Half) A Day In The Disastrous Life Of A Three Year Old

2012-01-04T12:12:00.005-05:00

If Melina could blog, this would describe her morning:

6:45 am.
I woke up this morning with the sniffles. Mommy still came into my room full of smiles, so I guess the day might be all right. But I asked if I could have some chocolate, and she said no. No?!? Something about it being 7 o'clock in the morning. Well, I can't tell time, so what does it matter?

6:49 am.
Mommy carried me downstairs so that we could finish up getting lunches ready for the kids. Today, it will be just the two of us. I already miss the girls and Aaron. I like having them home, and it is too bad that vacation is over. But you know what? I will ask for chocolate. That will make me feel better. Oh, I already did that.

7:15 am.
I just had to go potty, and mommy's hands were freezing! Her fingertips on my body were like little icicles, and I didn't like it. Just like I don't like it when the dog's tail gets me, or when he slobbers on me. I don't like having a wet face. Unless I am crying. My tears and/or mucus are fine. Right about this time, Mommy told me that she was going to get ready to go running. Again? Why does she need to go again? She just went running on Monday morning. I will miss her. AND I need her. Right now. I guess I have to stay with Daddy. Maybe he'll give me chocolate.

7:48 am.
Mommy walked me to the bus stop so that I could stay with Daddy and the kids while she goes running. There she goes. Sniffle. "Have a good run, Mommy! I will miss you!" What will we do when we go back inside? Maybe Daddy has a plan. I know, I can pretend I am the baby, or that Daddy is Enrico. He could read me Snow White! I can be the princess. Ahhhh! Shadow, please leave me alone! No more slobbers!

8:20 am.
Mommy is home! What a feeling. Now, I can get in my halter dress, white tights, sparkly shoes and earrings. Yippee! And so I ask Mommy if I can do that. What?!? It all needs to be washed? What a disaster! I love that dress and the tights and the shoes and the earrings. The earrings are the best. Why can't I have the dress?!? I stomp my foot a little, but that doesn't fly with Mommy. Uh-oh. I guess I can't really ask for chocolate now, can I?

9:30 am.
Mommy showered, I had a nice breakfast (I love strawberries!) and we are on the way to the veterinarian's office. Ferdinand needs more special food. I don't like his food. It looks icky. Mommy says it is really cold out, so I had to wear my heavy coat. But I don't like it. The coat is too hot, and my hair gets all spiky when I wear it. Apparently, Mommy isn't going to budge on this one, either. So I am sitting here in the car with manatee strapped to my chest, just enjoying the music. I could get used to a life of being carted around! "Hey mom, when we get there, will you carry me?" I shout out. "Sure honey," she says.

At the vet, we see a very cute doggy. I pet her, and she licks my face. Her slobbers are okay. Then, we headed to get Stella a birthday gift. I see everything I want: a Hello Kitty watch, a pink bag, a Belle storybook, a Dora pinata, and more. Yep, mom said no to it all. She kept repeating that I just got a new pair of clip-on earrings yesterday. True, but irrelevant, if you ask me.

We picked up Stella's gift, and when we got in line to pay, I saw it. A rack of exquisite chocolate, all wrapped in lovely paper, just waiting for someone like us. My mouth starts to water, and Mom says the magic words. "You can pick one out, honey, but you will have to wait until after lunch to eat it, and you will only get a small piece." Pick your battles, right? I see a small victory in this one!

12 pm. The water is boiling and the noodles just went in. Mommy found my pink cup. I love this pink cup! Brooke gave it to me, and I love eating my macaroni and cheese in it. Oops! I just dropped it. Huh, what is that? Uh-oh. I think it might have broken. I showed it to mom. Oh, no. It is broken! I can't eat my mac and cheese in it? Really? I start to cry and my lower lip trembles, and I am so mad. Mad, mad, mad. What do I do now? Mommy said I can still use the cup over at my little kitchen, but it won't be the same. Thanks for the hug, though, Mommy.

12:15 pm.
Macaroni and cheese, strawberries, chocolate, and Scooby-Doo! What more do I need?

Timelines And Other Stuff

2012-01-03T15:57:00.003-05:00

Is anyone else a little bothered by these new Facebook timelines?

I haven't set one up. It all seems like a bit too information can be gleaned from them. I am sure it is just another way of looking at all of the information FB already has on you, but it just looks suspect to me. Am I wrong? One of you that have already established one -- would you like to fill me in on it?

***
Inspired by Kelsey, we made peanut butter blossoms with sunflower butter instead of peanut butter. We did that last week. I finally told the kids today that I switched ingredients. They all agreed that they could taste something different (or so they say) but that they were still yummy. They are right!

***
School starts back tomorrow for everyone except me! My plans for this quarter, as I take a hiatus from teaching, include more of the usual, plus some. Need a decoder for that? I thought so. I plan on doing the following:

Volunteer at library and math time for the 4th graders, and math and science time for the 1st graders.
Make it to a PTO meeting (Kelsey, you better hold me to this one!).
Think about being a substitute teacher.
Organize the basement.
Run farther.
Write more.
Find new recipes to try out each week.

Most importantly, I am going to try to find out what I want to do for the rest of my life. Good luck with that, I know.

Kicked To The Curb

2012-01-02T11:26:00.007-05:00

I woke up this morning to a dusting of snow. Since Tim had the day off, I figured I'd still get my short Monday run accomplished. The snow didn't look like it would be too much of a bother. And luckily, it wasn't.

I decided to go with a usual short route, since the snow was flying into my face and visibility wasn't the greatest. I couldn't even see the houses I was running by; it was that kind of snow. As I ran by some of the larger houses that come up quickly past the bridge, I noticed something looming on the side of the road. I don't run with contacts in, so at first it wasn't clear what was on the curb. But as I got closer, I knew what it was.

It was a tree. A Christmas tree. A once-decorated, no-longer-needed, Christmas tree. A little farther up, there was another one, and as I kept going, I saw a few more. It made sense. In our area, the garbage collectors will come and get your tree, for free, provided you have put it to the curb. But this is only the 2nd day of January! We are only 1 week and then some past Christmas! Seeing the trees on the side of the street made my heart ache.

Crazy, I know, to feel for these used Christmas trees, but each year, it is the same thing. I wonder about the stories that the trees can tell. I'd like to know what type of families they had. Did they get decorated with fancy ornaments and garland, or did they have mostly homemade items on their arms? Was there a star on the top, or an angel, or nothing at all? Did these trees get to see the joy and happiness in the eyes of children, or were they in a house full of adults? And was it all happiness that they witnessed? I would guess probably not. I imagine these trees once at the tree farm, just waiting to be picked. They stood up straight, fluffed their branches, and just hoped against hope that someone said, "Yep! That's the one!" If the trees knew that they'd be put at the curb so soon, would they do it again?

Crazier still, I also personify these Christmas trees, already long forgotten, though they've only been outside for just a day. They've performed their duty, they are no longer needed, they are thrust into the cold. Essentially, their time is up. I get emotional and shed a tear for these trees, probably because I think of people. What happens when people get old and their time is up? What do we do with them? Yep, we kick them to the curb. I'd like to think that I won't do that, nor will it happen to me. But only time will tell.

In all, I saw about a half dozen of these Christmas trees that have been kicked to the curb. If I could collect them all, I would. But I wouldn't be able to get all of the trees around here. And I wouldn't have room for all of them either. The best place for them now really is with the garbage collectors, who I hope will get them chipped into mulch in order to extend their lives.

If you bought a real tree this year and are feeling the love (or feeling guilty after reading this) feel free to use your tree a little differently. Several places online suggest using your tree as a winter shelter for small birds and animals. Just place your used tree in your backyard, and look at it go. You can chop it up in the spring and use the wood. Just don't call me to help. After having a tree with us that long, I'd probably cry even harder knowing I had to say goodbye.

By the way, we have an artificial tree.

***
Update.

After I posted this gem, I suspected that I might get a couple of comments from those environmentally friendly people that I know and love. I was tempted to go back, juggle the wording, and include a sentence or two that indicated that, although we own an artificial tree, we know it isn't the most environmentally friendly thing to do. If it were all about being more earth-friendly in our house, we'd have canned the cats and dog long ago so that we could put up a real Christmas tree and then use the tree later for mulch. Or better yet, we'd use some sort of plant or small tree that could live year round in our house. But being environmentally PC wasn't the point of my foray today. That can be the subject for another day.

Changes

2012-01-01T07:14:00.003-05:00

I am not one for New Year's Resolutions, but something has to change.

Last night I once again skipped any New Year's festivities. Instead, I was snuggled up with Aaron and turned off the light at 9:07 pm.

It could have been that I managed to get in my long run that morning (I always get pretty tired by the end of the day if that happens). It could have been that we babysat for some friends, so we had 3 extra kids (ages 3, 7, and 8) at our house from 1 until 8:30 pm. It could have been that a week with all the kids home had just tuckered me out.

Whatever the case, I need to change it. The girls wanted to try to stay up until midnight this year, and I have no idea if Tim allowed them to do so. But part of the fun for the kids is knowing that your parents are allowing you to do something they don't normally allow you to do. And at this point, still, they enjoy spending time with us. How much longer is that going to last, I ask you? So, 365 days from now (it is a leap year, after all) even if we all end up snoring on the couch amidst the trappings of our home party, I already have plans.

Somebody will just need to remind me.

Relationships

2011-12-30T11:38:00.003-05:00

The best thing about Facebook, in my humble opinion, is catching up with people you really want to know about, but haven't a clue as to where they might be. Carol is one of those people. Last year, I happened to look her up on Facebook and to my delight, there she was. It has taken almost a year to see her, but with our trip to Michigan, she and I finally caught up.

Carol was one of just a handful of people that actually spoke to me on my first day of ninth grade. I was a newcomer to the city, and a poorly dressed one at that. What I mean to say is that, just like now, I was fashion challenged. To this day I remember the blue skirt and shirt, and white cotton sweater I wore. I felt uncomfortable in it, which probably made the whole ensemble even worse. If you feel awkward in what you are wearing, there is absolutely no way that you can pull it off, you know? Well, that first morning, when I walked into the cafetorium (Cafeteria and auditorium all in one? What the heck is that?) Carol was the bright spot in an otherwise dull group of people. She had a 1000 watt smile, as they say, and the nerve to say hello to the new girl. Thank goodness she did.

High school was a bad time for me. I never felt as though I fit in. Part of that was being a newcomer with the wrong name. Someone at that school already had our last name, and it wasn't a very common one. For whatever reason, a new group of people having that same name just didn't sit well with anyone. Neither did a freshman taking Biology or French II (this was a small town high school after all, for those of you that don't know). But Carol (and in turn another friendly yet more hesitant soul named Tasha) didn't care about any of that. They both allowed me to be me, and liked me for it (or, in spite of it!).

Carol was my saving grace. The four years of high school stretched interminably for me, but spending time with Carol and calling her my friend kept me sane. I despised walking in the doors of that school, but knowing that Carol was there helped me do so every day. We had classes together, joined some of the same clubs, and hung out on the weekends. We talked about classes, jobs, boys, dreams, and colleges. We ate fast food (probably too much), drove around the city, and saw movies. We did other more irreverent things, too, and to this day, some of them are unbeknownst to my parents. Ah, the memories.

One of the best things about Carol was that she called the shots as she saw them. She wasn't hurtful, but she was honest. If you didn't know that about her, it might surprise you. But for the most part, that characteristic just made me laugh. Oh how I wanted to be like her! I had trouble expressing myself, except in writing, but writing didn't help with making friends and influencing people. And unlike myself, most people liked Carol. Funny thing, though...she didn't care if you did or didn't. Carol was a one of a kind, a diamond in the rough, a real gem, someone we should all have tried to emulate. I know I never told her any of this, and I bet no one else did, either.

Well, I could go on, but I won't. Carol and I played a bit of phone tag 2 days before Christmas, but we managed to set up a time to meet. Some of the descriptions and tidbits I was telling Tim about Carol made him say, "She really doesn't sound at all like you." When I thought about it, though, I realized he was wrong. I just couldn't do Carol justice in the few seconds I had before I ran out the door, so I didn't even try. I just hoped that Carol was still Carol. And if so, we'd have a great time.

When she opened the door, I swear I could have been in a time warp looking at a high school version of Carol, save for the big hair (she has long, sleek, straight hair now). Pink cheeks and her 1000 watt smile greeted me, along with a big hug. We sat for the next couple of hours and shot the breeze, much like we did so long ago. Along with drinking two diet Cokes (hair might change but apparently, favorite beverages do not) she told me that she had lost her mother 2 years ago, and that her father is having trouble adjusting. She told me that her relationship with her brother isn't as tight as it was in high school, that she loves her job, her kids and her husband. She isn't thrilled with living where they do, but her Dad depends on her and the kids. And the kids now depend on her Dad. She just can't see changing things right now. Overall, Carol is happy. I was thrilled to hear it -- who could ask for anything more?

On the drive back to my parents, I thanked the good Lord for Carol. I thanked him for allowing me to meet her back in 1987, and I thanked him for helping me find the time to meet up with her. So many times these days I think, "I am too busy to do X." I could have been too busy, but in my heart, I wanted to see Carol. I reflected on the ways in which we are different, but also on the many things we have in common. Most importantly, our morals and values and the way we are raising our children are so inline, you can tell why we were such great friends in high school.

Thinking of my relationship with Carol has made me think of other relationships I've had in my life, some of which remain strong, others that seem connected by simply a thread. These relationships will likely be discussed here, as I walk down memory lane. I'll try to be discreet, but if you find yourself among any of my next posts and you don't like being there, please let me know!

How Hot Are You?

2011-12-29T18:32:00.002-05:00

That isn't meant the way it looks.

Remember the thermometer I bought Tim for Christmas? It is an infrared one, and it has a laser. The laser can be turned on and off, and is really only there to show you what you are aiming the thermometer at. (I just ended that sentence with a preposition, AND I will not correct it.) This week, we've pretty much measured the temperature of everything (all in degrees Fahrenheit).

The inside of Tim's mouth? 94 degrees.
The backsplash in the kitchen? 65 degrees.
The tile floor in the kitchen? 68 degrees.
Zoe's forehead? 97 degrees.
Aaron's eyeball? 88 degrees.
The scrambled eggs? 87 degrees (and cooling quickly).
The ice cream in the freezer? Zero degrees.
The metal back of the oven (preheated to 300): 313 degrees.

I could go on. The kids have had a blast, although both Tim and I have had to remind them that it isn't a toy. (Isn't it, though?) And, this thing is so handy. This evening, I was making Naan and needed to make sure the milk was heated to a certain temperature. I quickly grabbed the thermometer and found out that the milk was 167 degrees, and in need of cooling.

I plan on sending these thermometers out to the people I love. Nerd or not, I think everyone will love them.

Growing Up

2011-12-28T12:36:00.002-05:00

We received pictures of the kids in the mail the other day from the orthodontist. The orthodontist documents everything, and uses many pictures and x-rays in their quest to help our kids get the best mouths possible. I know I already posted about the girls getting their braces off. This one isn't about braces. It is about the pre-teen children I now have living in my house! I about fell over when I looked at the pictures.

Here are the before pictures, the ones in which my girls look (to me) still like babies.

And here are the after pictures.

Christmas Presents

2011-12-27T19:52:00.002-05:00

We're back.

You might not have known we were gone, and that is as it should be. I often wonder about the people that broadcast via blog, Facebook, or any other social media that they have vacated the premises for a week. Isn't that just an invitation to the malicious to come over?

Anyway, we made it to Michigan and back with very little fanfare. In between those driving days, there was very little fanfare. And with 6 young cousins all mixed in, little fanfare is a very good thing. In short, we all had a good time, and it was nice to see both of my sisters and their families.

Tim and I don't usually exchange very large presents. This year, is no exception, considering we will likely be giving each other a kitchen makeover next year. Or a new computer. Or any number of things that will likely go wrong with our house in the next couple of months. He got me a set of cookie cutters shaped like laboratory equipment, and I got him a thermometer. It is a pretty cool one, considering it uses a laser to read the temperature of anything and everything. It is somewhat difficult to get past being a nerd in this house.

Santa had the foresight, again, to leave presents here at home. He is always so thoughtful! With the load the kids got this year, it was great to have many of them left here. We didn't have to leave any of the children back in Michigan with my parents!

The kids tore into what was hidden around our house. The gifts are always placed under something, so that the cats can't rip into the paper or try to ingest the bows. One year, Tim found Lucy eating some of the thin ribbon from a package. Tim started to pull the ribbon out of Lucy's mouth, and found himself pulling, and pulling, and pulling. Tim was literally pulling the ribbon back out of the stomach of the cat. I kid you not!

I personally think that Tim should have just left that ribbon where it was. Lucy isn't in to giving very good presents, and he should be taught a lesson. When I went upstairs to put something in Melina's room, I found the present he left his year. A large smattering of feces, right on Melina's comforter.

So much for a White Christmas.

Wednesday In A Nutshell

2011-12-22T05:52:00.003-05:00

Yesterday was the kids first day off for the Winter Break. They woke up late, played a bit together, and watched a movie with lunch. We didn't have too much to do until the afternoon, when we needed to get to an orthodontist appointment. So, we waited to do our errands until then.

The girls each were fitted with their new retainers. Zoe's is a dark bluish/purple color, while Talia's is clear with sparkles. And I can say that we are all grateful for the girls choosing two completely different colors for their retainers. The alternative, and what can happen, kind of gives me the shivers.

On the way back from the orthodontist, and en route to the gas station, the kids were talking about Santa. I think just about everything was said with respect to the jolly man in Red. The Belief is strong here, and I'd like to cultivate that just a bit longer, if possible. The funny thing is, kids notice things, you know?

Melina's school had a Christmas party on Tuesday. (Yes, it was a Christmas party. She attends a preschool that has a religious affiliation, so we can go ahead and call it what it was.) After they spoke about the religious significance of the holiday, they had a visit from Santa. I remember the girls and Aaron absolutely loving the visit from Santa! They had been so happy to see him and I clearly remember the girls arguing over whether or not it had been the real Santa. Melina was very excited, but our conversation was much different.

Melina: Mom, we got to see Santa today!
Me: Oh, that is so great! Did you have fun?
Melina: Yes, he had a sack. He gave us a gingerbread man.
Me: Wow! I love it.
Melina: But he was the pretend Santa.
Me: How do you know?
Melina: Because it was Mr. Glenn in there.
Me: (Curious) How do you know?
Melina: Because it was. Mr. Glenn was Santa.
Me: Did someone tell you that?
Melina: Nope.

Melina repeated this conversation with every adult with whom she came into contact. To her, it was just an observation, but to me, I can see that stringing out the Belief might be a bit difficult with my last born. Of course, every adult (including myself) told her that the real Santa always needs help, especially when it gets close to Christmas. And in reality, Santa does need all the help he can get, right? Many of us have taken on that role to help spread Christmas love and cheer, and whether I've been on the receiving or the giving end, the feeling I get is the same: that fullness of heart that reminds me of that scene in "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas" when his heart grows back.

After the gas station, we stopped into the Italian store to get some frozen ravioli. I have never been in this store, which you might think is a horrible thing for an Italian to say. But, we cook at our house. So, if we want Italian, we usually to it ourselves. I don't make homemade ravioli (at least not yet), though, so we needed to go there.

The place smelled delicious, but I got a couple of looks from the people inside. A dark-haired family was waiting for their deli food to be brought to the table, and they looked at us. The little old man in the hat, he looked at us. I can't decide if it was the fact that I had 4 kids by myself (again, we've gone over this...it isn't even a large brood in this neck of the woods), or if it was the fact that I had 3 blondes and a red head in a store where most people had dark hair. I wanted to shout out: "My last name is *blank* and I am 75% Italian! My kids, although they don't look it, are 5/8 Italian!" I refrained from doing so, as I am sure that they would have escorted the crazy lady and her camouflaged Diego children out of the store.

And now, it is Thursday. Let's see what sorts of trouble we can get into today! Have a great day!

Au Secours!

2011-12-21T11:39:00.003-05:00

The first part in fixing a problem is admitting you need help, right?

I helped with Aaron's holiday party yesterday. Unlike last year, Aaron's class this year is almost begging for help! While we had an abundance of parents at the kindergarten parties, this year, that is not the case. Therefore, the homeroom mom had asked me to bring in some pretzels, juice, and chocolate chips, and then to also be a helper while the party was happening. Melina and I had planned on attending anyway, so it wasn't any trouble.

Luckily, Mrs. H (the homeroom mom) had decided to make the party very low-key. Instead of a craft and a snack, she made the craft the snack. The kids each had a sugar cookie, some frosting, a few chocolate coated candies and some chocolate chips. We bravely gave each child a plastic knife, and let him or her go to town decorating. While that was going on, we passed out pretzels and juice.

At some point, Mrs. H asked that I help pass out bananas. The "Wellness Committee" at the school really wants the holiday parties to be more healthy, we try to bring in something nutritious at each party. Last time, it was grapes and cheese, this time, bananas. We figured that each child only need 1/2 of a banana, and we'd ask if a banana was wanted so as to cut down on waste. I went around to each child and asked him or her if a banana was needed. And that is when I got in trouble.

I made it to Edward and this is what happened:

Me: Would you like 1/2 of a banana, Edward?
E: Yes, please, but I will share it with my dad (who was there to help).
Me: Well, if you share it with your dad, what part of the banana will you each get?
E: We will each get a small part.
Me: Yes, but if I split 1/2 of a banana into 2 pieces, what part of the banana do you and your dad get?
E: Hmmm.
Me: That is okay, Edward! Fractions are hard!

I split the banana and went on asking other kids if they wanted any. In the background, I heard Edward's dad explaining the problem to the kids at the table. Just so you know, I only asked Edward because I have worked with him at math stations before. I really thought he would have known the answer, based on how well he works at those centers!

So, I have admitted that I have a problem. Now, what to do about it?!?

Winter Projects

2011-12-20T10:27:00.002-05:00

We just had the electrician here to install fluorescent lighting in the basement. Our basement was old and dark, and while we will probably never have it finished, the kids like to play there sometimes, and we have a desk there for the kids to do their homework. Up until now, it really has been too dark for the kids to do their homework (what homework, right?), and with my eyes, I have always complained about not being able to see down there. Hence, the call to the electrician.

I just went down there to put away some boxes, and my first thought was, "Wow!" I really am not a fan of fluorescent lighting in stores or elsewhere in the home, but these lights really lit everything up! I can now see anything I want: the top of the box at the top of the shelf, the crevice behind the air hockey table, and the corner shelf that houses the cat litter. If the kids are looking for something in the toy bins, they should now be able to find things without my assistance.

Unfortunately, it is so light down there, I can see everything I don't want, too. The cat litter is much more apparent now, and the dirt on the old floor seems to stand out like a beacon. The dust bunnies that aggregate in the corners and the spot on the rug where Ferdinand or Lucy got sick seemed to jump out at me.

Which brought me to my decision for a nice, long, winter project. Since I won't be teaching, you will find me in the basement, cleaning, sorting, and making my newly enlightened rooms a bit more pleasing to the eye. If I give myself a timetable, I am betting that Melina and I can get it down before we start on identifying spring projects. One can hope, right?

If It's Not Nailed Down, We'll Dip It!

2011-12-19T13:30:00.004-05:00

(These long titles as of late are getting to me! Whew!)

Anyway, as we do every year, the kids and I (well, Melina and I this time) have just finished dipping our pretzels into dark chocolate and white chocolate. The last batches are cooling as we speak, waiting to be used as filling for a couple more treat bags for the teachers. These pretzels will join homemade iced sugar cookies and chocolate drop cookies in a cute little holiday bag. We bought the teachers a small gift, and contributed to their wish lists, so I don't know why I feel the need to feed all the teachers junk. I think it is just that I like to make the junk. I might as well spread the love, you know?

As I said, we do this dipping each year. In the past we've thrown in the safe bets (for us anyway): peanuts, walnuts, cranberries, raisins, and granola. I've tried some other fruits, and even put lots of nuts and fruits together. I've tried different cereals, too. Each year, we get a little bit more bold when we dip our pretzels. Last year, we tried Cheezits dipped in chocolate -- the hot and spicy variety. Aaron loved those! He asked for them again this year. Our experiment this time was chili-spiced dried mango. I knew Tim would love it, because Trader Joe's used to carry chocolate covered chili-spiced mango. Alas, it has been discontinued, except in our house.

In essence, my strategy is this: get enough chocolate to cover everything, and then throw everything in. If we don't like it, we don't try it again the next year. Got anything you'd like for us to try?

Consequences Of Living With A Would-Be Mathematician

2011-12-18T06:22:00.002-05:00

We took the girls to see a local professional production of The Nutcracker yesterday. Their good friend had two small parts in the ballet, and has for the last couple of years. Yet this is the first year I've been coordinated enough to get tickets early and make our way there. Aaron expressed zero interest in seeing the production, and we thought that Melina was a little young to come. So, Tim, the girls, and I made the short drive downtown.

Both Zoe and Talia are practicing pieces from The Nutcracker for their piano lessons, and they are really enjoying them. I have always loved the music, but I had never seen a live production of the ballet. Tim says he saw one so long ago, he really coudln't remember.

Our seats were awesome! Mrs. D picked them out for us, and she placed us right in the center part of the lower balcony. We could see everything at once, and no one tall was sitting in front of us. In fact, for most of the show, no one at all was sitting there. The girls were excited for the ballet to start, and once the lights dimmed, I could tell by the smiles on their faces that it was going to be a lovely afternoon.

In short, the production was nice. There were a few minor mishaps: one ballerina fell briefly, some of the movements were not completely coordinated, etc. But all the little children in the production were adorable, and of course, the big things all went well. There were no lighting issues or scene structure problems.

In fact, the only problem really had to do with me. I guess I am not really a fan of the ballet. I can truly appreciate the hard work and dedication that go into being a part of the dance and I could never purport to be able to do anything near that. (Why do I enjoy running? It is easy to put one foot in front of the other, and even then, I sometimes trip!) But I wasn't moved by the production. It could be the lack of story, as I mentioned to Tim; it could be that The Nutcracker is geared toward children. I don't really know how to explain it. But the part that really did me in came just before the intermission. And this problem is all of Tim's fault.

The last scene of Act I shows a smart little dance with the Snowflakes: 12 ballerinas dressed in light, fluffy, snowflake-like costumes. Melina would have loved to see these young ladies twirl. I saw the twirling, all right, but then I noticed something. The groups of 3. Four groups of 3 to be exact. Then, they were in groups of 4. Three groups of 4, of course. At some point, the girls lined up in two lines of 6. I think you can see where this is going. I could not get out of my head the factors of 12! It was like a scene from the old Sesame Street episodes where they would show a number of dancers and say things like, "Twelve." And just repeat that number, over and over and over. "Look boys and girls, how many ways can you come up with 12?"

The same thing happened in Act II, when the Flowers came out to dance. It didn't happen during the scene with the German children, so there must have been something in the choreography of the Flowers and Snowflakes that just lent itself to math.

At some point during the production, I whispered to the girls, "Did you see that? Four groups of 3s. Twelve. Math is just about everywhere."

It was really dark, but I am sure I heard them both roll their eyes.

Time For A Tea Party

2011-12-16T15:53:00.003-05:00

Melina and I enjoy drinking tea and having little parties. Usually, we brew the tea in one of my cups, and then we pour the tea into some of Melina's little plastic tea cups, once the liquid has cooled down quite a bit. Most of the time, Melina and I are the only ones drinking tea, but sometimes, Melina brings a stuffed animal to the table.

A couple of weeks ago, Melina expressed interest in having other people at our tea party. I thought maybe she'd ask about inviting her friend up the street, who is four. She did ask about having a friend of the street, but it was Mrs. S, who is clearly not four! Melina then added that she wanted to also invite Mrs. D. I think her wanting to have these ladies over is because she encounters them often. Melina sees Mrs. Sherick five times a week at the bus stop, and Melina sees Mrs. D often because the girls are good friends with her daughter. I am friends with both Mrs. S and Mrs. D, so I was happy to try to plan a little tea party.

I don't own a tea set, but I did purchase a tea kettle that sings so that we could really achieve the best effect for our tea party. We planned a light menu of sandwiches and salad, and then had some treats for when we drank our tea. We even set the table, using a complete set of dishes and cutlery.

Don't you love the plastic tea bag holder?!? We had to settle for folded napkins, because neither Melina nor I could do origami.

I stepped back for the next one, just so we could see the whole thing. Obviously, we cleaned the place up for this occasion!

Mrs. S and Mrs. D did not dress up for the tea party, although both admitted to thinking about it. I didn't, either, but Melina (in usual Melina form) took out all stops! She had a great time wearing the flower girl dress she used for Aunt Teresa's wedding and a new headband. As you can see, a great time was had by all!

Braces Off!

2011-12-15T10:45:00.003-05:00

When I speak to people on the phone, particularly those with whom I haven't spoken to in a long time, I usually say that not much is happening around here. I equate uneventful with doing well; sometimes, I am just fine with status quo, you know? But on Monday, there was quite the celebration going on! Finally, after long last, the girls have passed through Phase I of their orthodontic adventure, and the braces came off! They are thrilled: They can chew gum, eat popcorn with abandon, and bite into apples! I am thrilled: I don't have to pick them up and cart them over to Dr. M's office every 6 weeks.

I don't have very many good before pictures. I took a few that were early on in their Phase I adventure. If you look closely, you can see the space and crookedness of their mouths.

Zoe:

Talia:
But I did capture two pretty nice pictures for the after shots.

At the orthodontists office on this momentous occasion (Zoe is on the left):

And with their new nicknames, Teeth 1 and Teeth 2:

He's All Right

2011-12-14T09:46:00.007-05:00

Back in September, Ferdinand was diagnosed as having diabetes. Since that time, we have been giving him insulin shots twice a day, and going in periodically to have his blood glucose levels checked.

The vet started him on 1/2 of a unit of insulin. Apparently, they always start with that level in cats, and then see how the cat responds. You'd rather underdose than overdose on insulin. Bad things can happen if you have too much insulin.

After Ferdie had been on 1/2 of a unit for probably a week, we had his blood checked. No change was detected in the glucose levels, so the vet ordered us to go up to 1 unit twice a day, and then come back for a blood check. Well, we went from 1 unit, to 1.5 units, to 2 units, to 2.5 units, to 3, then 3.5, and we are now at 4 units. I love the vet's office, but I am truly tired of seeing the lovely ladies that work the reception desk! In fact yesterday, when I took Ferdinand in, he whined (loudly) the entire car ride. He whined (loudly) in the waiting area, AND he whined (loudly) throughout the blood draw (I could hear him from the waiting area). It is obvious to me that he is a bit tired of seeing the vet's office as well.

At one point in this whole ordeal, and because Ferdinand's glucose levels weren't dropping sufficiently, the vet opted to do periodic blood draws throughout the day. This was in an effort to more accurately get a count of his blood glucose. When I went to pick Ferdinand up that day, the vet simply said, "Cats are special. Your cat in particular is very special." Well yeah, to us, he is! That isn't what she meant. Usually, in healthy animals, blood glucose levels increase slightly after eating, but for the most part, the level should stay pretty level. In diabetic animals, there isn't as much stability in the levels, so the vet should see some crests and troughs in the curve. Not in Ferdinand. His level was stable, but unhealthily stable. A level of 381 mg/dL isn't what they wanted to see at all!

In the end, it seems that the 4 units of insulin twice a day is (finally) working pretty well. He and Lucy are playing more, we see Ferdinand snuggling with the kids, and I actually SEE him more during the day. Ferdinand doesn't seem to be drinking as much, nor is he urinating as frequently or as copiously. I hope we are on the other side of this. I guess we'll see.

I should mention that cats really are special when it comes to diabetes. The vet also told me that in cats, sometimes diabetes just goes away after a couple of years!! Doesn't that just make you wonder? Is anyone doing research on that component of the cat? They very well should be!

Poetry By Tim

2011-12-13T12:14:00.003-05:00

Tim and I both like to write. He admittedly doesn't get to do this that often, but he is good at it. In a former life, I believe he won an essay contest. And, if you read his dissertation, it reads like prose. Both of us try to impart our love of writing onto the kids, and so far, we haven't had any luck. But because the girls are in 4th grade, they have more writing to do. They've been working on friendly letters, business letters, and persuasive paragraphs, as well as trying to become a better writer overall by including more details and being aware of topic sentences.

One of the things Tim likes to write are poems, in particular, Haiku. He usually tries to write humorous ones, so that they interest the kids more. To be honest, I don't think these poems of his adhere to the strict Haiku guidelines, but for what its worth, we think they are nice.

I present to you Tim's latest.

How he describes his writing:

My prose is purple.
My nights are dark and stormy.
The butler did it.

Talking about Doctor Who, one of our favorite TV characters of all time:

The Doctor is stuck.
The angels have the phone box.
Sally Sparrow, help!

Putting a little math into it (of course) and I can't get my Greek font working:
(Edit by Tim: I put the right character in)

Richard Dedekind
was feeling sort of hungry.
He η function.

And for those who like Christmas poetry:

I want an iPod,
but Santa says I've been bad.
Guess it's coal this year.

and

Santa, we've been good,
but we don't need lots of junk.
Cash or check will do.

Christmas Card Pictures

2011-12-12T13:51:00.007-05:00

Each year, we get lovely photos and photo cards from friends and family at Christmas time. Each year, I vow to get a great photo of our brood, and send it onto said friends and family. Each year, I forget how difficult it is to get a good picture of the kids.

I was going to use this one, which was actually taken not that long ago. But when you try to print it, Talia's head gets cut off. That was my fault, as I was the one taking the picture. So I guess in this instance, I can't really blame the kids.

We tried to take a nice picture with Santa. But of course, not all the kids cooperated. Times like this make me thank my lucky stars we don't have more children to add to the mix.

Take 1:

Take 12:

The one I'd really like to use has only one of our children, but so much potential for blackmail later on in life. If I send it out, Aaron will have a harder time of deleting it from our files!

Young Love

2011-12-10T12:17:00.004-05:00

The girls are in 4th grade this year. If you don't know that already, then either you are new to the blog, or you just haven't been listening. Up until this time, boys have been relatively innocuous. The girls have had play dates with several of their boy friends, they've called the boy up the street to play, and they have complained about the rambunctiousness of some of their boy classmates.

This year, however, things have been different. The girls have been slightly distracted by boys, one in particular. I will call this boy Brandon, for the sake of clarity. From the beginning of this year, it has been Brandon this and Brandon that. I knew who Brandon was, for we all saw him at meet-the-teacher afternoon. Over the course of the year, though, I have gotten to know Brandon just a bit.

If the girls are going to like someone, I am glad that they picked someone like Brandon, and I can see why they have. He has long blond hair and warm brown eyes. He has two little brothers, I think, and seems to care about his siblings. He is intelligent and funny and more importantly, he is polite! At library time, when I check out his books, he always says "Thank you." What more can I ask for?

Well, yesterday we were talking about liking boys and the girls wanted to know who I liked in the fourth grade. Easy! I liked the same kid for three years in a row! He was tall, had dark hair, a cute space between his teeth, and dimples! Oh how those dimples came out when he smiled. I am sure there were quite a few of us 4th graders that swooned the day he walked into school. He was somewhat shy, but genuinely a kind fellow. The kids and teachers all liked him. His name was Bob. Okay, it wasn't really Bob. But he did have a very simple first name and we'll stop right there. I told the girls his name, but out of respect for everyone's privacy, I won't reveal it here.

Why? Because you can actually find this Bob on the internet. Turns out that the boy I went to school with for three years (he moved into the school and out again all within those 3 years) ended up doing some really good things over the years. He excelled in a sport in high school, such that a very good university offered him a scholarship. (That university, just so you know, is not one liked by a Wolverine fan, such as me.) Bob was, according to many accounts, a real student-athlete: very intelligent, hard-working, and gracious, both on and off the field, or court, or whatever. After college, he didn't make it in the big-leagues, but did play with some quasi-professional teams, and moved onto coaching. In that arena, he has done fantastic. This really is not a surprise, as his father coached several professional teams, as far as I know.

Well, the girls were curious. "Can you find a picture of him, Mom?" they asked. We hopped on the computer and looked him up. There were a couple of easily identifiable pictures there. Bob looked like a grown-up version of himself. And yes, the dimples were still there. In my opinion, he has grown into a very nice-looking fellow. Apparently, the girls disagree. Their response? "Was he cuter in the 4th grade?"

God Bless Mrs. G!

2011-12-09T12:09:00.002-05:00

Aaron was lucky enough to be assigned to Mrs. G's class this year. As I have said before, Zoe had Mrs. G back in first grade, and we loved her. She is organized, patient, and has the students' best interests at heart. We also found out that she adapts well, as some things in the curriculum have changed since Zoe was in first grade, and she still manages to be a first rate teacher.

Over the course of the year so far, I have been in to help Mrs. G with various activities. I usually try to get there to help with the Science Lab activities, and I've been around to help with parties and lunchtime. Just recently, I started coming in each week to help with the math centers.

It became apparent to me very early on in the year that Mrs. G's class was a little lopsided. She had been given mostly boys, and to be honest, some of the most difficult boys in the first grade. (I do wonder if this wasn't by design, as Mrs. G has a reputation for being a good disciplinarian; she is gentle, yet firm with the students, and from what I can tell, she gets results!) When I have been in the classroom, Mrs. G has had to deal with talking, crying, general malaise, and arguing. Half of the class wants to talk to the new person (me) at a time when Mrs. G would like to explain what we need to do. Mrs. G usually looks at me, and in an effort to not roll her eyes at the students' behavior, instead widens her big, brown eyes at me. Any parent would know what it means!

I just want to give Mrs. G a shout-out and a large pat on her back! She has been an educator for 30 years, and nothing seems to have phased her. I think I'd actually like to ask her for an interview, off the record of course. I'd like to understand why she became a teacher, specifically a first grade teacher, and ask her what the secret is for being so patient and understanding. For 30 years! I'd probably try to get at the heart of her philosophy and then spread the word. Many of us can learn quite a bit from a lady like Mrs. G.

Sweet Success

2011-12-08T10:30:00.002-05:00

Once my quarter was over, I told the teachers at the kids' school that I would be able to come into the classroom and help out a bit more. Since I like science and math, both the 1st grade and the 4th grade teachers jumped on that. I have been going in to help the first graders with math centers (I have 6 kids at a time for 15 minutes), and I have also been helping the 4th graders. Every Tuesday and Thursday, the same 4th graders and I head to a quiet spot in the school and spend 30-45 minutes on whatever the teacher needs us to do.

On Tuesday, Mrs. M requested that we go over some of the concepts that the kids will see on the standardized tests. She gave me a copy of the quiz (not graded) that is similar to ones that the students take every couple of weeks. Mrs. M's philosophy is this: the more they see it, the better they will do. Hmmm...sounds like practice to me. Perhaps that should carry over into homework. But, I digress.

Anyway, the students and I looked over what they had done, and tried to concentrate on the concepts that most of them hadn't been able to grasp. One concept: fractions. At this point in the public schools out here, the students have only a rudimentary understanding of fractions. They can identify what a fraction is, and how many parts are a part of the bigger whole, but many of the kids don't know how to add or subtract fractions yet. So, we went over that. We added and subtracted fractions like there was no tomorrow. By the end of the 45 minutes, we had it down. I said to them, "My job is done. Now, you need to remember it!"

Well, imagine my surprise and delight when I walked into school today. Sydney had a big smile on her face and burst out: "We took one of those tests and I got all the fractions correct!" She was so clearly proud, it made me want to cry just a bit. Once I got the other kids in the group, I asked how they did. And all of them said the same as Sydney. "Mrs. C, it was easy! We knew exactly what to do!"

I think I felt just as great as they did about their small success!

Mid-Life Crisis

2011-12-07T09:13:00.002-05:00

First a reddish-pink stripe in my hair, and now a pair of black leggings! I must be going through a mid-life crisis. I will, however, still hold onto the notion that a pair of jeggings will never be seen in my closet. If I go that far, then will one of you please call in the authorities? Thank you.

Balancing Acts

2011-12-06T10:46:00.002-05:00

It is that time of the year again. The time where I find it difficult to juggle everything: school, shopping, cleaning, laundry, list-making, volunteering, etc. Part of it is due to the weather. I cannot stand the gloominess that comes with rainy December days. I live for the sun, and right now, that big star is hard to come by. I hope we see it tomorrow.

I also find it difficult to find the balance for what Christmas means to us. As Catholics, we primarily celebrate the birth of Jesus at Christmas time. I try to imprint that onto my children when we speak about Christmas. At the same time, though, the magic of Santa is a huge draw, and rightfully so. Many of my fondest memories come from Christmas when I was a child, especially with respect to the man from the North Pole. The lights of the Christmas tree in the living room, the apprehension I felt when heading up the stairs (maybe I'd see Santa!), heading out to look for Rudolph's nose in the sky. All of those memories are to be cherished, and we try around here to replicate them in some way.

So, in our house, it just might be that the two sides (for lack of a better word) overlap. Celebrating a person's birthday is always (in our house) a happy occasion! Why shouldn't Jesus' birth also be that way? And the warm feelings that come with Santa? Those feelings can put smiles on most anyone's faces! Didn't the Grinch prove that? Either way, there are lessons to be learned. Giving presents, showering people with happiness, donating time and energy to those in need, and generally trying to spread Christmas cheer can be done whether you celebrate the birth of Jesus, or only talk about the man in red. I just need to remember to breathe, and it will all turn out okay.

Do you find it difficult to manage the two sides of Christmas? I'd like to know. [And don't get all righteous on me here. Some of you might say, there is only 1 side of Christmas, and that is the birth of Christ. That conversation can be for another time. As I said, lessons can be learned from either stance. So, we will continue to celebrate from both sides.]

According to Melina...

2011-12-04T19:17:00.003-05:00

Caterpillars, snakes, and worms are too slobbery to hold.

But, when she is a grown-up with blond hair, and if she calls herself Kita, then she might want to touch a caterpillar.

From the mouths of babes, you know?

Friday Funnies

2011-12-02T09:46:00.003-05:00

Melina likes to tell me all about her day at preschool. She attends school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so usually, Friday is a day where we can catch up on what happened.

Apparently, at school yesterday, they started singing Christmas songs. She recognized "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" on the radio.

Melina: We sang that at school yesterday!
Me: Oh really? Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?
Melina: No, Rudog, mommy. His name is Rudog, and he has a shiny nose.

Later on, when we were at the grocery store, we walked by the seafood counter. Melina pointed to the lobster tank.

Melina: Is that crab talking? (It was moving around in the tank.)
Me: That is a lobster and it is moving. It is alive.
Melina: Do people eat them?
Me: Yes, people eat lobsters, but you have to cook them first.
Melina: Do you cook them alive?
Me: Well, I think you put them in a boiling pot of water alive. I don't know, as I don't like to eat lobsters.
Melina: Well, mommy, I don't think I'd like to eat hamsters either.
Me: Lobsters, Melina, they are called lobsters.
Melina: Oh!

Thursday Bits

2011-12-01T12:04:00.004-05:00

Just for the record, I didn't understand what Tim meant in his post yesterday. Once I told him that I didn't, he explained it, in very easy terms. I guess Tim isn't always as clear as he'd like to be, either. If you need an explanation, feel free to ask him the next time you see him. Since Tim and Aaron share a brain, I do wonder if Aaron would understand exactly what he meant.

***
I picked up Melina from preschool today, and I realized that I am the old lady in line. I guess it makes sense, as Melina is the last of my children to be at the school, whereas some of the ladies are dropping off their first born children. Still, it hurts to think of it. My friend says, and rightly so, that the kids are closer to college than birth. Yikes.

***
I never did get around, in the month of November, to admitting one more deep dark secret. Of course, it isn't that deep or dark, considering Tim knows about it. What is it, you ask? Are you ready? I have a soft spot in my heart for Zachary Levi.

Way back when the TV show Chuck first came out, I'd be sitting at the computer doing school work while Tim watched the show. The music (which to this day I still really like) was the first thing that made me turn my head. Then, it was Chuck himself. At the inception of the show, the character really did look nerdy; the same can't be said for the more suave version of him on the show now. (In retrospect, I prefer the nerdier version.) I don't know exactly why, but something about a tall, dark, and handsome nerd just makes me giggly. This is in direct contrast to my penchant for bad boys, you know?

Anyway, not that it matters to me much or has any bearing on my liking of Zachary Levi, but the show has jumped the shark, as they say. I think this season is the last, and probably, it is for the best. I do hope that Zachary Levi does other shows, though. The only other thing I know him from is Tangled, which I loved, but because it was an animated film, I probably would have loved it even without his voice. Anyone know if there is a Zachary Levi Fan Club?

Super Powers, continued

2011-11-30T20:03:00.003-05:00

Chrispea discussed super talents previously, and time travel, as DS commented, would be a great one. Supposing, though, that one had to choose among more modest selections than the ability to bend space and time to one's will, I think I'd like to the power to visualize function & vector spaces in more than three dimensions. Imagine knowing exactly what a hypercube looks like, or picturing in your head an infinite dimensional Hilbert space.

I'd be like a Sphere in Flatland.

Not Like Me II

2011-11-30T13:00:00.002-05:00

Melina and I went out this morning for a day of shopping and lunch. Sounds like fun, right? I did enjoy myself, since I was with Melina. But a day of shopping is not my idea of fun. Melina, however, enjoyed herself immensely! She put much thought into which outfits she chose in the little girls department. When we got to the ladies' section, I literally looked at a sweater and a dress, thought about them for 3 seconds, and threw them in the cart.

If there was ever a child who is Not Like Me, it would be Melina. I've said it so many times on this blog, you are probably tired of hearing it. But if I didn't see her come out of me, I'd have thought she wasn't mine!

Yes, the child looks like me. She speaks like me: "Aaron, I told you 5 times to stop doing that!" She eats like me: she just put away an ice cream treat after having an enormous slice of pizza (before you go off on bad parenting, we usually don't have ice cream after lunch and without having had a fruit or a vegetable, but we were out to lunch after all!). But somehow, she just isn't like me. Melina is always hot whereas I am always cold. Her favorite color is pink, while my favorite color is green. The color we wear most often? Hers again would be pink; mine is black. Her favorite shoes are strappy sandals while mine are running shoes. Melina's favorite pastime is looking in the mirror (!) whereas mine is running. I am telling you, I am raising a little diva, and I don't know how or when or why! The complexity of genetics leads me to believe that Melina's genes are more like those of Aunt Tara's than of mine. But that is a whole new blog post, and one that I am not qualified to even discuss (though the field of genetics is quite interesting).

There are a few things I can seeing shining through this little lady that are characteristics I have, but cannot claim all to myself. Melina loves to read, she loves letters, and she loves music. Tim and I share those characteristics, though, so they might have easily been what he contributed (that, and her ample little tushy!). I am holding out hope for her, though, because as of the last couple of days, she has been exhibiting common sense! At the tender age of 3! Woo hoo! if that says around. We could use it in this house.

***
I should mention that this is the last day of November. I made it all the way through the month, and posted every day! In fact, there was even that bonus post I put up to amuse you. From here until next November, I will not have to post every day, and you, lucky reader, will not have to read every day! Aren't you happy? Even so, I'll do my best to keep posting glimpses of the zoo. Just be patient with me.

Not Like Me

2011-11-29T08:15:00.004-05:00

I have a feeling that this might be a really long post, and when you get to the end of it, you might not quite understand exactly what I am saying. I apologize in advance if that is the case. Sometimes, the blog is here just to get things off of my chest, or to put thoughts on paper that I'd like to try to express so I remember the feeling later. Emphasis on the try. Sometimes, I still have trouble making sure the meaning is clear by the end of the post.

I have thought quite a bit over the last couple of months about my kids. They are growing up, so quickly, it seems, and I feel lucky to have an age range. I am able to still experience the wonder of the blue sky while at the same time trying to dodge the bullet of boys. Different, yet all good, at times. I have chronicled the mess that sometimes is 4th grade, I've talked about giving up nursing, I've clued you in to the joys and frustrations that go along with our little redhead. But I think the issue that is the most distressing and rampant and not fixable is the issue that the kids might not be like me.

That statement, at a first glace, will seem arrogant. Of course I don't expect the kids to be like me all of the time, and to be sure, I wouldn't like for them to be. I would hope that the kids might be more outgoing, more confident, and more decisive. Only time will tell on that. I do, however, want them to possess the same work ethic and determination that I have. I'd like for them to have some drive, and always put forth their best effort. I'd like for them to possess an insane amount of common sense, and I'd appreciate it if they thought of others at least as much as they think of themselves.

When I look at all the characteristics the kids have to offer, I smile. They are so blessed with many things. The girls have amazing voices and are doing well on the piano. Aaron has a sponge for a brain. All three of them (we'll talk about Melina next time) are creative: they construct things out of boxes, they draw and paint well, and they use their imagination in unique ways. They are kind and quiet and silly and lovely. But at the end of the day, I am realizing that the girls are not always like me.

First off, I have to remember that Zoe and Talia are two separate people, and that each one, while different from the other, will be different from me. It is hard to stand by and watch Talia struggle with what I consider a simple math concept. Of course it isn't difficult for me. I've been doing that math for years! At the same time, I might have struggled with it in 4th grade, but I don't remember that. I do remember having homework, assigned by the teachers (ahem, are you listening Mrs. M? Mrs. A?) that reinforced what we learned in school. Not a ton of homework, but enough. Then, my mom, against the majority at the time, had us do workbooks in the summer to keep up our skills. At the time, I didn't like doing the workbooks. Now, I realize why my mom did what she did. And, I have spent many a dollar at the local school supply store on math and language workbooks.

The question I ask myself is this: Did I get the workbooks to make the girls more like me, or did I do it for them? I am pretty sure that I bought them the workbooks and ask them to do homework so that they can become confident in math and grammar. Math is everywhere, and I constantly tell them that. I don't want them to grow up and be the adult who cannot interpret the graph in the newspaper, or the mom that doesn't know how to double the recipe. Tim and I find grammatical errors, constantly, in newspaper articles and advertisements. I do want them to become more like me -- able to do math and grammar -- but in the process of becoming that way, they will be bettering themselves. I want the kids to be able to find the errors, and not make their own.

That statement is telling, if you think about it. I am not a micro-manager, but I could easily be one. When it comes to the kids, I try so hard not to just do the work for them, whether it is clean up the mess they've made or do their homework. I struggle each day to let them make the error, find the error, and learn from the error. My toughest job as a mom is to sit back and let the kids live life and actually become themselves.

Craziness

2011-11-28T09:22:00.002-05:00

We've had a bit of craziness around here lately. The stomach bug, as of this morning at 5:30 am, finally made it through the last of our human family. Aaron caved and is lying on the couch right now. The laundry is in, and another pile is waiting to be done. Speaking of done, I know I am. I can do without the craziness that seems to hover with sickness.

Perhaps that craziness was behind my need to get out of bed two nights ago to post. I only posted because way back on November 1, I said I would post each day. But who is counting? Maybe you, dear FRN, are counting, but I doubt anyone else is. However, I happen to be the type of person who tries to do what she says she is going to do. Hence, the post, even though it was only a post in the most transparent sense of the word.

I do wonder what other craziness we have yet to behold before the end of the year. With Christmas coming and winter vacation for the kids, I can only imagine what is yet to come. Have I just jinxed myself with that? I hope not.

***
I apologize for the short lengths of these last few posts. You can tell the end of this month is approaching, and none too soon! I love blogging, but sometimes, it is tough to sit down and do it.

Aaron's Friday Fun

2011-11-27T19:29:00.003-05:00

Tim and I bought Aaron a whiteboard for his birthday, and Tim hung it on Aaron's bedroom wall. Aaron has been enjoying the board, using it for drawings, games, and most recently, math. On Friday, while everyone else was downstairs playing or watching Scooby-Doo, Aaron was upstairs doing this:

Apparently math outweighs Scooby-Doo in the fun department. I think he would have gone past 2,097,152 if I hadn't told him he needed to eat. I guess at least food comes in before math. For now, anyway!

55 minutes

2011-11-26T23:05:00.002-05:00

Until midnight.

I just came back down here because I remembered that I hadn't posted anything today!

Last year when this happened, I didn't get out of bed. This year, I did. What does that mean? Am I more dedicated? More anal retentive? Crazy? All of the above?

We'll think about that and perhaps get back to it tomorrow.

Good night!

Doh!

2011-11-25T07:08:00.002-05:00

Every once in a while, I goof.

Melina woke me up this morning at 5:30 am. That is a bit early for her, but not too much. I heard Melina's little sighs, but let her go a bit, and then decided I better go in and try to get her to go back to sleep. I crawled into bed with her, and realized the problem. Well, I could smell the problem. The poor thing had wet the bed. The sheets, the mattress pad, her pajamas -- all of it -- were reeking of urine. It wasn't a diaper fail, it was a mommy fail.

Last night, Melina had taken a shower, and put her pajamas on before her snack. When we went up to bed, after snack, she went potty, brushed her teeth, and climbed into bed. I read her 3 stories, and turned out the light. If I had had to put the pajamas on after doing the bedtime potty and brush routine, I would have remembered to put a diaper on the child. Instead, I sent her to bed diaper-less, and thus, the deluge.

Melina has been potty-trained since before she was 2, but at night, we still need the diaper. However, it is clear that she probably stays dry up until really early in the morning. I think she'd have noticed wetting the bed before 5:30 am, if she had done so.

I told Melina she needs to remind me to put the diaper on her each evening. I don't know if she will, but considering I don't want to have to do any more laundry than I do, I'll make up some mental checklist and put "Melina's diaper" on it. Otherwise, I'll be doing repeated dope slaps to myself, and I think I can without any more of those.

We're Full

2011-11-24T18:32:00.003-05:00

Full of love, full of laughter, and full of food.

We called off the Thanksgiving festivities today with my parents and Brooke and Ian. We figured that no one wanted to have a side of vomit with their turkey (sorry to be crude). But we woke up healthy, and made a nice meal. We even made it to the park to play after eating said meal.

So while we didn't get to have a nice visit with family and friends, I do think we had a pretty nice Thanksgiving.

I hope you and yours can say the same.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I Need Your Help!

2011-11-23T07:34:00.002-05:00

Of course, there could be many reasons why I need your help. But I don't have much time today, so I won't go into any of the other reasons why I might need your assistance.

I need to buy some sort of computer that will help me in my quest to get everything done. I won't find one that will do laundry and homework or anything else, but I'd like to be able to have something small, something that works on a wireless network, and something larger than a phone. I would use it for checking email (work and personal), doing small bits of research, and perhaps typing up documents. My thought was to get an Ipad, but I've never used them.

So, does anyone have an Ipad? Does anyone have any suggestions? All are welcome!

Sunchokes, Anyone?

2011-11-22T05:20:00.002-05:00

Last week, sunchokes (or sunroots) arrived in our Happy Box (the box we get from the CSA). They used to be called Jerusalem artichokes (Helianthus tuberosus), but they aren't related to artichokes, and are actually a species of sunflower. The tuber is what is harvested and eaten. The CSA provided a nice description of the sunchokes, as well as multiple ways to prepare them.

I found it interesting that the sunchokes store the carbohydrate inulin, instead of starch. When I think of inulin, I go back to grad school where we first learned about Glomerular Filtration Rate (GFR) in the kidney. Essentially, the body filters and clears inulin, since it is neither secreted nor absorbed by any of the tubules in the kidney. In fact, the clearance of inulin is used clinically to measure GFR. Hmmm. Food for thought there (yikes, bad pun). What does this mean as far as digestion? Well, I could guess, that is for sure.

Instead of looking it up, I prepared the batch (coating with olive oil and spices and then baking them), and we ate them. Tim and I had the most, and the kids all tried them. The sunchokes tasted, to me, like a slightly different version of a potato. Unlike potatoes, though, they didn't agree with the digestive system.

Bloating and gas were the result of our experiment with sunchokes. It stands to reason, considering inulin is indigestible by the body. I was just rooting around (get it?) for some information, and everything I read said to introduce the sunchoke gradually, so the body can adapt.

Duh! Sometimes, I should just go with my gut, don't you think? (I am so full of puns today, I outshine myself, don't I?)

Movie Review of Sorts

2011-11-21T11:36:00.004-05:00

Despite the fact that Melina was sick yesterday, I went with some ladies to see the newest Twilight movie. I checked with Tim as to whether or not he wanted to be left with a sick Melina and 3 other children, and he said he didn't mind. Actually he said, "What is the worst that could happen? We all get sick and you come home to everyone on the couch. And the power is out." Thank you, Mr. Optimism.

Anyway, we headed to the matinee. A friend of mine picked me up, and while I hesitated about driving in her car and giving her GI germs, she had, just the night before, cleaned up a GI mess when one of the kids at the birthday party she was holding decided to get sick. I figured that we'd be even.

I haven't been to a full-pay movie in a decade. The last movie I saw in the theater, the first half of the 7th Harry Potter movie, was seen on a Tuesday night for $1.75. I couldn't believe it cost me $8 for a matinee, but I don't get out often, so in the end, I didn't care. The cost of concessions was even worse, but I treated myself.

After sitting through 15 minutes (!) of previews, the movie came on. Have you seen the other Twilight movies? The first one had two overriding themes: blue and bad makeup. I remember watching the movie in my family room and laughing! The acting wasn't very good, Bella's character was constantly huffing, and no one smiled! I guess living in a place where it rains all the time can do that to you, but I think the movie was perhaps a step above a B-grade movie.

The 2nd and 3rd movies, in my opinion, didn't get much better. There were things I would have put into the movie, to explain the story better to those that haven't read the books, and there were things I would have left out. The acting was slightly better -- perhaps because the actors were getting more comfortable in their characters, or, I had developed an immunity to the bad acting. Either way, my expectations for this movie were very low. Tim asked why I was going, then. My reply? I'd rather sit and laugh at the movie with friends than in my family room by myself!

Well, wasn't I pleasantly surprised! I guess the team had a bigger budget to work with, as the makeup was better, the sets and transitions seemed better, and the writing was also better. Theme here? Better, if you couldn't figure that out. The writers had injected some humor into the dialogue, and it worked. I was laughing at the movie, but not necessarily in the embarrassed for the actor sort of way.

I don't want to give anything away, in the event that you actually want to see the movie. One of the ladies I went with hadn't read any books, and she enjoyed the movie, too. The movie is only 1/2 of the last Twilight book, which makes complete sense. To try to make the entire book into one movie would have been disastrous. Luckily, the powers that be got it right as to where to end this first movie.

How many stars would I give the movie? I actually think it was a 3 star movie. I can't believe I said that, considering the other Twilight horrors that came before, but I'll stick with it. I hope they do as well with the 2nd half of the book as they did with the first.

Jinxed!

2011-11-20T06:35:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, at dinner, I was looking at Melina eat her food. She was packing away a huge amount, which wasn't too odd, considering she hadn't had an afternoon snack. While I was watching her, we spoke about preschool and what she liked, and how the teachers were, and whether or not she saw James on Thursday. Melina really likes James, and plays with him often. He has red hair, so it really isn't difficult to figure out why she gravitates to him.

Anyway, while we were talking, I was thinking that Melina hasn't brought home the deluge of germs that the other kids did upon entering preschool. It makes sense; she has already been inundated with many germs from the other kids being in school. Mid-November, and except for a slight cold and a double ear infection (neither of which kept her from school), we'd seen nothing.

I should not have even let that thought go through my head, I tell you!

At 1:30 am, I heard Melina complaining in her room, something she usually doesn't do. She wanted me to sleep with her. I said I could rest for a couple of minutes, but that I wanted her to sleep alone for the night. Again, I usually don't have to even say that. I told her to hold on, and I went downstairs to see Tim, just to tell him that I might be in Melina's room.

When I got back up to Melina's room, it was obvious something was amiss. She was whimpering, and there was a distinct odor. I am sure you know the one about which I am talking. I swung into clean-up mode. I stripped her bed, and dragged her to the bathroom. I ran downstairs to tell Tim that vomit-cleanup was underway. Melina had a bath, new sheets were put on the bed, and the first load of laundry was started.

Unfortunately for Melina, she continued to have vomiting spells. It is now 6:46 am, and she has used the bowl 8 times since that initial spread of glorious chyme across her bed. She and I have had little sleep, but we did catch a few winks. I hope she clears this easily, and that of course, it doesn't wreak havoc with the rest of the crew. Of course, I'll let you know.

La Leche

2011-11-19T12:48:00.002-05:00

Disclaimer: this post will use anatomical terms, such as breast and nipple. If that offends you, please leave now.

Someone asked me recently if I still nursed Melina. The short answer is no. But there is a longer story to this, and I thought I'd share.

If you are reading this, you probably know that I had, at least in my head, some cut-offs established as to when I would be done nursing. My first cut-off was at 12 months, but at the time, stopping just wasn't feasible. I then said I would stop nursing at 18 months. That is plenty of time on the boob, you know? That is what I thought, but Melina wasn't on board. Two years went by, 2 and 1/2 years went by, and then I said to her: "Once you start school, you cannot have any more mommy milk." She said okay, but didn't really mean it. After school that first day, she asked for mommy milk. And I gave it to her. I know, I know. I gave in.

What are my reasons for the extended nursing? There are a whole host of them, I think. Melina certainly didn't need the mommy milk for nutrition, as she is a pretty good eater (although a little heavy on the macaroni and cheese). Therefore, that was not the reason. But Melina enjoyed the snuggle time with me, and to be honest, I enjoyed the snuggle time. Unless she was sick, we nursed only at nap time and bedtime. It was a comfort to her, and therefore, I allowed it. She is the last of four, and I think I was hanging onto the knowledge that she'd be the last baby I ever nursed. And, of course, she slept well after nursing. You all know how important good sleep for a child (and parent) can be. The funniest reason for extended nursing? During our time together, I would read my book. I actually read quite alot during that time, and now that we don't nurse, I don't read as much! I miss that reading time, I have to say.

However, the time did come to stop, just a few days after Melina started school. For whatever reason, a crack developed on my left nipple, which is the breast from which she took milk (she had stopped the double sided nursing ages ago). When she started to suckle, enormous pains shot through my breast, up the side of my body. I winced, I cringed, I actually almost cried. I let her nurse once this way (the pain subsided after while) but spoke with the OB, who suggested having her lay off for a while. I jumped on that one.

The next day, I explained to Melina (and showed her) that I had a crack on my breast, and that it was very painful to have her take any mommy milk from it. I told her that I could read a book and rest with her for a moment, but then she'd need to nap by herself. She said okay.

That same night, I reminded her of the crack. She said okay again, and has been fine ever since. A couple of times Melina has stated that when the crack is done healing, that she'd like to have more mommy milk. As much as I hate to lie to the child, I just nod my head and say okay. What she doesn't know at this point, can't really hurt her.

I often ask myself if I would do it again and I don't really know. I am of the mind to do what is right for yourself, the baby, and the rest of the family, and during those years, extended nursing worked for us. A different child, a different time, and who knows?

Tim's Mom's Turkey Recipe

2011-11-18T08:02:00.005-05:00

It is that time of the year again. People will be calling me (you know who you are) for Tim's Mom's Turkey Recipe. I am not a fan of Thanksgiving turkey, mostly because as a kid, the turkeys weren't that tasty. Sorry, mom, but you know it is true. I always loved the smell of the cooking turkey, but the taste never quite lived up to the name.

Then, I met Tim (and Tim's mom) and realized that Thanksgiving turkey can be good, great even.

So, here is the recipe. Try it. You might find that you, too, are a Turkey convert. Remember, I was once completely vegetarian, too.

For a 14 pound bird:

7 tsp salt
7 tsp garlic salt
Italian seasoning
pepper
3/4 stick butter (soft)

Mash up the spices and the soft butter together in a bowl. Put under turkey skin, on the legs, and in the cavity of the bird. Put bay leaves and rosemary (if you want) under skin. Put the bird in the fridge overnight (or for two nights). Take out the bay leaves/rosemary before cooking.

Tie the turkey legs, put water and wine (cooking sherry will do) in bottom of pan, and bake at 350 or 370. Get it good and brown, and then seal it tightly with foil and turn the oven down to 330 or so.

I don't have any other instructions. Tim just looks in the oven and knows when it is done. The result? A flavorful, and moist, turkey breast, and yummy legs to boot! If you are just using a turkey breast, this works, and it works for whole chickens, too. Enjoy!

Decisions, Decisions

2011-11-17T10:19:00.003-05:00

I never knew, as a kid, just how many decisions adults had to make. I was always ready to grow up, and now, I think I'd like to head back into the womb.

My life isn't full of big decisions. I luckily have made a few good ones in what might be considered the big decision category, such as 1. husband, 2. whether or not to have kids, 3. what sort of house to buy, and 4. pets. But each day, little decisions come up. The one that gets to me the most is deciding what to have for dinner. If someone just told me each day what to cook, I'd do it. But the deciding what to have is the big problem.

Dinner isn't the issue today. What is then? I'll tell you.

We have this refrigerator that will need to be replaced soon. Right there -- a ton of decisions! What type? What style? What color? Water spout? Ice maker? But I might have the style, color, and type down. I don't need help with that. The problem is that this refrigerator is wedged into the corner of our kitchen. Previous owners tried to fix that problem, by putting in a side-by-side type refrigerator. It might help a little, but you cannot open the freezer door all the way. Getting food into and out of the freezer can sometimes look like the person is trying to wrestle with the freezer door. And, the door is winning.

So, what to do about it? We have thought about replacing the appliance with the type that has French doors on top (refrigerator section) and the freezer on the bottom. Even though the left side door won't open all the way, because of the wall that lies next to it, the top is open, so we could slide things in from the right. This would be the most cost effective, as we would only have to buy the appliance, and perhaps fix a bit of cabinetry if the new refrigerator is higher than the old one (which is probably going to happen, because our old one is pretty old, and everything these days seems to be bigger and taller). We'd likely need to replace the countertops, too, because we now have a tile countertop. Who knows if anyone ever sealed the grout, but the tile is coming apart, and water is getting beneath it. Soon, the cabinets may rot, and I actually like the cabinets.

The other option is to move the refrigerator out of the corner, and then replace that corner with new cabinets. At that time, the countertop should be replaced and since we'd be moving some cabinets around, the floor ought to be done. Our floor right now is a dull shade of gray tile. I don't like it, but I could live with it longer. However, it is cracked in spots and needs some major repairs. Furthermore, my guess is that the tile is not under the cabinets right now. If we need to move those cabinets to put the new refrigerator there, we either need to find matching tile or get a new floor. Also, moving things around would likely mean that we'd need to replace the backsplash, and decide if we want to take down the wainscoting, or put new wainscoting up in the walls that have been revealed. Oh, and we need to fix the ceiling. We never fixed the ceiling when we had water damage from the pluming upstairs because we knew that we'd have to do something with the kitchen. We figured we'd to it all at one time.

So, we actually got an estimate for the work, and you know what? Moving the refrigerator and getting new counters and cabinets for that corner is not that bad. The big cost is in the floor. Demolition for the floor is quite a bit, and if we want to replace with tile (which, to be honest, I don't need and I think I'd be just as happy with a vinyl or laminate floor) the cost is pretty high. High enough that it would be best to get a home equity loan. Do we really want to go down that road?

Can you see where I am? At this point, I'd rather scrap the whole thing. But Tim says that since we rely on the refrigerator for so much, we need to be proactive, and buy a new one before this old thing goes. He is right. So we need to make a decision. Anyone out there care to do it for me?

Super Talents

2011-11-16T09:09:00.002-05:00

FRN asked what I'd like to have for a super talent. I am not sure that I the answer to that question, but it certainly got me thinking. (You will have to go with my stream of consciousness post here, sorry!) My enormous amount of common sense might, to some, be considered a super talent. So far, I don't know what it has done for me. What if I had the power to be invisible, something akin to Harry's invisibility cloak? I don't think so. There isn't much more that I'd do if I were invisible, so that won't quite work. Unlike Harry, I don't usually need to fight the dark powers that lurk in the night. I thought about being able to run at the speed of light, having more than two hands, and being able to do without sleep, and all of those would be great, but I realized, after having thought some more about it, that those talents (if you can call them that) are purely selfish.

So, in this week or so before Thanksgiving, I thought that maybe a talent that would be considered super and be extremely helpful, would be the ability to transform common dirt into food and clean water. Can you imagine the people I could help with that one? I'd be able to help people not only in this neck of the woods, but I'd be able to travel to third world countries and make sure they had some of the necessities of life. Wouldn't that be cool?

Of course, with every super talent or super power comes something bad. But since I don't feel like dwelling on that, we are going to stop right here.

I hope you all have some good plans for Thanksgiving this year, and I also hope you have alot for which to be thankful. We sure do. That will be yet another post later.

Tattoos

2011-11-15T08:13:00.002-05:00

Tim now sports a tattoo (albeit temporary) on the skin covering his deltoid muscle.

If you don't know why, go back and read this.

I thought it was hysterical when he showed it to me. And, he had no idea. I've known the guy for 13 years, and have been married for 11 of those. I guess I never mentioned that secret of mine to him. Perhaps, that is why they call it a secret.

Happy Monday

2011-11-14T11:17:00.006-05:00

Mondays are used for cleaning up around the house and running errands. I usually have a list of things to do: laundry, general clean-up, run to Trader Joe's, etc.

Today, the quest was simple: Find a pair of clip-on earrings.

I am sure the first question is why? But I bet you can guess the who.

Apparently, Melina felt the need to have a pair of earrings to go with her wedding outfit. She has had the dress, the veil, and the shoes for a while. This weekend, at the Spaghetti Dinner, Mrs. D gave her a ring that will work. The only thing missing? The earrings. Can't you just see my eyes rolling right now?

We tried Goodwill first, but they only had black earrings. They had a nice fuchsia pair, too, but in classic Melina fashion, she nixed them, as they wouldn't match the rest of the outfit. Right next to Goodwill is an Elder-Beerman store. If there isn't a store that screams I'm Old! more, I don't know what it is. There just had to be a pair of clip-ons in there.

And there was. A nice (and cheap) pair that matches her outfit perfectly, at least according to Melina. Happy Melina = Happy Monday!

Forgotten pictures

2011-11-13T15:13:00.006-05:00

For some reason, I leave the uploading of pictures from the camera to the computer for Tim. I guess I do alot of other things around here, and I just haven't put camera pictures on my priority list. I need to put it there soon, because I often forget that we have some pictures that people might want to see.

Therefore, this will be an easy post. We have pictures from Teresa's wedding, fall here at our house (including some Halloween pictures), and ways that the kids keep busy. Easy on the eyes, and easy on the writer!

Below are Aaron and cousin Jacob in the church at Aunt Teresa's wedding.

The girls had their hair done, and loved the pink, poofy dresses.

So did Melina.

This kid made it well past 11 o'clock that night. Don't worry, it is just a Shirley Temple in the glass!

***
Halloween was nice for everyone. The weather cooperated, and friends were able to come over and trick-or-treat. We never did get a picture of everyone, but maybe next year. Here are the older kids in their ghoulish garb. Aaron was a zombie, and the girls were vampires.

Of course, Melina was Cinderella. Would she be anyone but that?

***
I can't forget to put a picture of Aaron's birthday cake. He turned 7 (!) on November 1st.

***
With the weather getting colder, the kids have been inside creating. The other evening after dinner, this is who showed up in our kitchen.

Identical

2011-11-12T11:47:00.005-05:00

The girls came home with their school pictures yesterday.

I set the pictures in front of Tim, who spent a good minute looking at them. You could tell he was thinking hard about trying to guess correctly. His eyes narrowed, and his gaze was sharp.

"That's Talia!" he said, as he pointed to the picture of Zoe. He looked sort of proud of himself.

Alas, even the dad can't get it right.

Because of times like this, when your kids are so identical that your husband can't see the differences, we decided it would be okay for the girls to each put a permanent stripe in their hair. We went to see Miss Chrissy, who first bleached some hair on each side of the girls' heads, and then put the color on. Talia opted for orange, while Zoe chose purple; the color frames the length of their face, and actually, looks great. Now, if you can remember which color goes with which girl, you won't make a mistake.

It is a bit difficult to see the purple in this picture of Zoe, but in real life, the color stands out. Melina asked why she couldn't get a stripe. I told her Miss Chrissy doesn't put color on 3 year old children. Both Miss Chrissy and Melina were fine with that excuse.

My Little Secret

2011-11-11T12:11:00.004-05:00

So, did I ever tell you that I have always been attracted to bad boys? Well, it is true. You wouldn't know it by my husband or by any of the people I dated in my previous life.

The guys with the tattoos and piercings? Intriguing. Rocker boys? Always caught my eye, especially if they had dyed their hair. The crazier they looked, the more they attracted me. Have you ever read the Jessica Darling series by Megan McCafferty? Thanks to my friend Kelsey, I did. Marcus Flutie? So my type when I was younger. I would have gone for him in a heartbeat. Bad boy, plus he was intelligent. Perhaps that is why I really enjoyed reading those books; I lived vicariously through Jessica.

The bad boys I met in real life, while outwardly attractive, just weren't attractive on the inside. This is going to sound like a generalization, and I apologize. But the bad boys I encountered? They tried to play it so cool, that they didn't care. The apathy was something I could do without.

So, aside from not wanting an apathetic partner, why didn't I end up with a bad boy? To be honest, I just don't think the good girl with the lack of confidence ever attracted those bad boys. In fact, I am somewhat glad of that. If some of those bad boys had actually been attracted to me, my life might have been a whole lot different. As in, my life might have been full of trouble.

What did I get instead? I found a guy who has the soul of a bad boy, but the exterior of a saint. Tim was somewhat of a class clown in school, although he was smart enough not to get caught (or the teachers just liked him and let him get away with whatever it was that he did). Tim also painted himself blue once in order to impersonate a Smurf. Not quite the hair dying type, but close, right? And one time, Tim chose to wear blue toenail polish. This was at a time when men wearing toenail polish was not the norm. (Okay, maybe it still isn't the norm, but almost anything goes these days.)

You might think the description of Tim and what I used to be attracted to are two completely different pictures. But upon thinking about it more, I think I figured out where the two pictures actually overlap. I tend to go for a guy that exudes confidence, sometimes even bordering on arrogance. The bad boys had it, and so does Tim. Now if I can just get him to put a tattoo on his bicep and a streak in his hair, we'll be golden.

Headache

2011-11-10T08:28:00.006-05:00

That is one of the words I would use to describe my husband. Not because he is a pain in the neck, but because he gets headaches often. Little headaches, cluster headaches, and especially migraine headaches. Early on in our relationship, I discovered that Timmy would be out for the count due to a debilitating migraine headache. I can't stand the least bit of pain when it comes to my head, so I never could quite understand how he managed to get through.

But this time, the headache isn't his. It's Talia's headache.

For the second time this month, she has woken up with a pain in her head. The last time, it lasted for 2 days. We tried Ibuprofen, Tylenol, and cool washcloths, but nothing helped. Only time did. On the third day, it was gone. I spoke to the nurse at our doctor's office about Talia's headache. She said that migraines could develop this early, and if it happened again, to bring her into the office.

I sent Talia to school this morning, as she didn't have a fever or any other aches and pains that might indicate something else was wrong. Talia did say that she had a stiff neck. In any other case, I might get panicky and start thinking that meningitis was the problem, but again, there were no other symptoms, and I plan on watching her. Plus, Tim gets a stiff neck often, which then leads to a headache.

So what did we do for Talia this morning? I loaded her up with water (she didn't drink much yesterday, and perhaps this all stems from dehydration), Ibuprofen, and -- I can't believe I did this but caffeine helps Tim quite a bit -- some Pepsi. Pepsi for breakfast! What a mom I am! Luckly Aaron and Melina didn't notice what was in Talia's glass; Zoe noticed and sneaked a couple of sips from a different glass. I am sure this will go down as one of the best breakfasts in the history of our family, at least according to the girls.

I told Talia to call at lunch if the pain wasn't any better, and I will call the doctor in the morning and get her in if the pain continues. I just hope we aren't headed down the migraine road with her.

Letting Go

2011-11-09T11:02:00.002-05:00

Today is Wednesday. I try to run on Wednesday mornings around the time the kids leave for school. When I came downstairs this morning to start my day, I just felt like I was going to run fast today. I stepped out into the light rain to start my run, and I wasn't quite sure what was going to happen. The rain was a bit cold, and coming down harder than I expected. In the end, I did run faster than normal, and the rain was like a cleanser. That jog this morning was one of the best I have had in a long time!

With such a glorious run behind me, I decided that I can no longer harbor these (ridiculous) feelings about 4th grade. I am letting go of the whole situation. I am putting my trust in the teachers, and my kids, and I believe that whatever ups and downs occur this year, in the end, the girls will have learned. I expect they will learn about more than just academic subjects...they'll learn about rules, and having to follow them, even when they don't feel like it. They will learn that teachers aren't always right. And most importantly, I think, they will learn that sometimes parents don't always get what they want.

***
Speaking of learning experiences, the kids and I were out enjoying what very well may be the last warm day of fall yesterday. Aaron was up the street at a friend's house, but the girls and I were outside making piles of leaves. The elderly man across the street came out of his house with a rake and wheelbarrow in hand. He started to rake his front lawn.

This man's wife has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. I haven't spoken to either of them directly about it, as I don't want to intrude. But I have thought about letting the man know that I am often home, in the event he or his wife need some help. I looked over at the man, just starting to tackle an enormous pile of leaves. I then looked at the girls and said, "Let's go help out Mr. S Okay?" Zoe, Talia, and Melina all smiled and said "Yes."

We grabbed our rakes and crossed the street. We headed up his front lawn and said, "Mr. S, Can we help you rake your leaves?" He looked at me, dumbfounded, and replied, "Now why would you want to do that?" Several things came to mind, but I didn't want to say any of them. I know Mr. S can be a bit brusque at times, and I can't even imagine what he is going through right now. I simply said back to him, "Because we'd like to?" He agreed.

We had all the leaves to the curb in under 15 minutes. The kids were great helpers, even Melina, and I think we all felt great. Mr. S thanked us and went inside, and the rest of us headed back to our side of the street.

The neighbor on our right came out and we started talking. She mentioned that she saw us across the street, and seeing us had brought tears to her eyes. She essentially patted me on the back for what we did, and said that lessons like that are hard to come by these days. I hadn't thought about it directly, but she is right. I don't need to be patted on the back, but kids these days don't often see neighbors helping neighbors, and learning lessons about life and giving are often few and far between. Lessons like this remind me that 4th grade troubles really aren't that much trouble at all.

Tired of Complaining

2011-11-08T08:19:00.002-05:00

You know, as much as I don't want to rush things, I think that I am so done with 4th grade already. I am kind of tired of writing about my experience with the girls and 4th grade, but on the other hand, it does me good to get out my frustration in words.

Let me say, again, how much I like our school, our teachers, and our prinicipal. I really feel grateful for everything that we get from our school. And to be honest, I might not be happy with any school -- my standards are that high.

This is my question, though. How can I really appreciate the teachers and believe they will do a good job with the kids when the teachers themselves constantly make mistakes?

(I have to put in here that I am not always the queen of grammar. I don't always construct sentences correctly, and sometimes, I take poetic license to go against the rules of grammar. There, I just needed you to know that I am not trying to be holier-than-thou.)

Three cases in point:

1. On Monday's, we learn math strategies. Umm, that should be Mondays, no apostrophe. This is a consistent mistake! Okay, maybe the math teacher wrote this particular letter and she isn't good with grammar. But the grammar teacher's name is also on the letter.

2. Letter from Mrs. A and Mrs. M. You can't tell anything from that. I don't want to finger point so I took out the real names. However, Mrs. M's name was spelled incorrectly! On the top of the letter!!

3. I don't have the letter in front of me, but there is an egregious error with respect to comma usage.

If you have kept up with my chronicle of 4th grade thus far, you know these ladies teaching my girls are particularly picky when it comes to errors on the paper. They don't allow errors, period. The teachers want the children to edit their papers, whether the paper concerns math or grammar. No dollar sign? You get a point off. Capitalization error? The word is wrong. And therein lies my largest complaint yet. (I know, I honestly sound like a broken record here). How, pray tell, can the teachers have this policy for the children, but not for themselves?

I am in a sticky spot here. Do I say something to the teachers or the principal? I have thought about trying to go off the record with the principal, but I am not sure. Tim says to wait until 4th grade is over. What is your vote?

Random Assortment

2011-11-07T10:57:00.003-05:00

I just heard Scooby-Doo say that Fred's mom is "hot." This newer series is just wrong on so many levels. Too many for me to discuss today.

Melina is wearing a halter dress (on November 7 of all days), white tights, and a pink fleece jacket. She is carrying her pink purse with her. She told me that she didn't like my sweater, because it is green. I carried and gave birth to Melina, but sometimes, I think she is not mine.

The kids have started making Christmas lists. The lists include so many expensive items, I am sure that Santa and mommy and daddy will not be adhering to the lists. I have no plans to get Zoe, Talia, or Aaron an Ipad. Yes, it is on all three of their lists. Whatever happened to wanting Play-Doh?

I am married to someone that really doesn't care what he looks like. Awesome, right? I wish I was able to be a little bit more like Tim. Examples? He wears torn sweaters and shirts to work, and has a pair of pants in a lovely shade of green. Lovely to him, awful to me. Tim went to the barber on Saturday. Apparently, he must care a little about what he looks like. I said that it seemed as though his hair cut was a bit bowl-like. I caught him in the bathroom this morning putting gel in his hair to combat the bowl. But who gives a bowl cut to a 40 year old, anyway?

Bonus Time

2011-11-06T14:06:00.002-05:00

I JUST PULLED A 1/2 INCH LONG HAIR FROM MY OTHERWISE NON-EXISTENT MUSTACHE!!!

And yes, I measured it.

Just had to post this information.

(I can't believe I admitted either of those facts.)

A Very Mormon Morning

2011-11-06T13:50:00.002-05:00

I stole the title of today's post from something Timmy said this morning.

Due to the change in time, we decided to bring the kids to 8 am mass, and then send them on their way to religious education. We usually try to hit the 4:30 pm mass on Saturday instead of frantically getting everyone out the door at 7:45 am on a Sunday. But we had an extra hour today, so we decided to go a little nuts.

Well, seems that everyone with little kids decided to do the exact same thing as we did today. A couple of pews over, I saw a few of the regular 8 am kids, but then I saw a family with 2 kids from around the corner, a family with 3 kids from up the street, a family with 4 kids that lives 2 streets over, and some other random families that I didn't know. Melina and I took a quick break to the bathroom, and when we got back to our pew, a good friend of ours and her family (they now have 6 kids) had settled in right in front of us. Well, most of them did. There wasn't much room in the pew, so the husband was in with us.

From time to time, one of the 6 kids would come back to sit with the dad (usually one of the younger ones). And then, they'd go back to the pew with the mom. At one point, my friend handed back her newborn (just two weeks old and so cute!) to her husband. I gave one child a book and we traded one kid for coats. We all held hands at the Our Father, and gave each other a nice, hearty, sign of peace.

According to Tim, we were Mormon for the day. He said that if people hadn't known that we were two separate families, we might just look like one big family all blended together. 4 adults, 10 children, crammed into essentially one and 1/2 pews.

Happy Sunday to you!

I've Got Nothing

2011-11-05T07:08:00.004-04:00

New to report, that is. I woke up this morning, a new day ahead of me, a new blog post to compose, and I can't think of anything to write! If I waited a bit, I am certain that something substantial would be said or happen around here, but we have a busy Saturday today. It isn't actually any busier than any other Saturday -- in fact it might be less busy now that soccer season is over -- but during soccer season, I don't try to write every single day. So, I am feeling a bit of pressure.

Part of that pressure stems from my faithful reader from the North. Remember her? She is the one that called me a slacker. Apparently she enjoys reading the blog first thing in the morning while she has her coffee. I do appreciate the readership -- perhaps she can send her friends over -- but I am usually a step behind her. But, she does not work on Saturdays! Maybe I can catch up this weekend, and get a few blog posts ahead, and then next week, she can enjoy chasing after me! A girl can dream, right?

Anyway, FRN, as I will call this reader, asked "What is a characteristic you would change about yourself? Minus physical features or anything of that nature."

Thank goodness she pulled out the physical features. As I know many women would, there are many tweaks I'd probably make if I could physically. I consider myself lucky, though, that I can't think of too many other characteristics I would change. Please don't take that as being arrogant. I don't, in any way, think that there isn't room for improvement! I could be a better wife, mother, daughter, friend, volunteer, etc. I could have more emphathy, more curiosity, and more compassion. But the first thing that came to mind is this: If I could change a characteristic about myself, I would like to be a little bit less of a neat freak.

You might wonder about that one. It is actually more complex than it sounds. Because I like neatness, because I like things to be tidy, disarray can really bother me. I mean, really bother me. To the point that the mess is overwhelming. Why do I vacuum the downstairs each day? Because the dog hair and random bits of tiny paper make my vision swirl when I walk by. And the toys that don't get put away or the clothing that Tim piles up in our room? It used to be that my blood pressure would rise each time I looked at those items. I've adjusted a little, and that usually doesn't happen anymore, but I've realized that in my world, even a bit of clutter makes me feel as though I walked in to a hoarder's house. I kid you not.

I could probably write more about the feeling I get when chaos meets a neat freak -- which let me tell you happens quite a bit when you have 3 animals and 4 children -- but I would like to get out for my long run this morning. Those long runs that I try to do every Saturday morning help stem the flood of panic that ensues sometimes when I look around at the tangled mess that can be our lives around here.

Any other questions?

Ballerina Girl

2011-11-04T08:54:00.002-04:00

I have a little ballerina girl here at home, complete with tutu and shoes. She looks real cute, I have to say.

I even managed to get her to wear underwear under the tutu, just to make things more appropriate.

But to Melina, being appropriate goes beyond the underwear. At least the sort that you wear on your bum.

Being completely appropriately dressed means that underneath that frilly pink leotard with the light pink flower, lies a bra. My dingy, gray, nursing bra that (clearly) I no longer need and should be put to rest in the garbage pail. The straps are pulled as close to her as they can be, and the contraption is still falling off of her little body. Thank goodness the leotard is tight. It pulls the bra up against her flat chest and smooths everything over.

Me: Melina, you really don't need a bra.
Melina: Yes, I do.
Me: But you don't have breasts.
Melina: Look! [She pulls the leotard down and points.] Yes, I do. You were teasing me!

We'll look back at this one day and smile. A really big smile.

Meal Train Etiquette

2011-11-03T08:46:00.002-04:00

A friend of mine gave birth to her 6th baby a couple of weeks ago. A mutual friend set up a meal train via the meal train website. If you've never been a part of a meal train, the idea is for people to sign up for a day to bring the recipient family dinner. The recipient family, who is presumably in the throes of laundry and lunacy, doesn't have to cook, and the other people feel like they are helping. It is a win-win situation.

I signed up last week to bring a meal tomorrow. The great thing about the website is that you can enter what meal you have decided to bring. I looked at what meals were already scheduled, and then signed up. I must say that I chose my meal according to the other ones already there. Several people had signed up to bring chicken, and there were very few that indicated that pasta of some sort would make a debut. Thus, I chose pasta, meatballs, salad, and dessert.

I received a reminder email from the website today, stating that my day to bring a meal is tomorrow. I went over to the website, just to check on things. To my horror, someone is scheduled to bring a meal today. What are they bringing? Pasta and ground beef, of course! Now, I am not trying to be rude, but if you can see what people are bringing, don't you think you should check to see what the person right on the other side of you has already signed up for? I do.

I feel like I know this family well enough, so I emailed this morning to see what they actually might like. The mom admitted that they actually have had a ton of pasta, and while they are grateful for what people are doing, if I am willing to change, that would be great. So we have changed the plan to black beans and rice. I hope I can find a nifty salsa, and we'll still bring salad. Perhaps some chips to go with that nifty salsa, and a lovely dessert to round out the whole meal. The kids are home tomorrow, so they can help with the whole affair. And while we are cooking, I plan on bringing up a lesson on etiquette.

Why Do I Write? And Why Do You Read?

2011-11-02T08:40:00.003-04:00

Yesterday's prompt on the NaBloPoMo website was the following: What is your favourite part about writing? Yes, that is favourite with a u, in case my kids are reading this. Their u, not mine.

I hadn't really thought about using prompts, but with my recent string of complaints on the blog, I thought maybe I'd try a prompt and move beyond the negative. Change is good, right?

I have always loved to write. That might sound completely trite, but it is true. I remember writing stories and poems as a kid, and becoming lost in the art of writing. Most of my pieces weren't great, but apparently the teachers liked them. I remember my dad being in Iowa for 3 months during the end of 8th grade. I wrote him poems to keep him from missing us too much. Apparently, he liked them, too. I remember writing Harvey the Hippo stories for the school newspaper in high school, and I remember having to kill Harvey off, so to speak, when I graduated. I actually wrote about extinguishing Harvey for our English class, and Mrs. M made me read it aloud. She thought it would be 'cathartic' for everyone.

I kept writing through college, although I realized that I wasn't as great a writer as I thought. The college professors still mostly liked my writing, but if I had ever thought about a career in writing, I would probably have had to think again. That large university was chock full of good writers. Knowing that fact was somewhat intimidating, but I did learn how to improve my writing. While in college, I found that I was best at writing for classes that centered around women: my 'Gender Roles' sociology class and 'Women in French Literature' class are two examples. I actually wasn't the best science writer. And yet, I decided to head into science (that is another whole post right there!).

And so the question is, why do I write? I think it goes back to what Mrs. M said way back in high school. I liked that word she used: cathartic. And when I think about the single reason that I write, I think that word encompasses my reasons. According to Merriam-Webster, anything that is cathartic is 'of or relating to catharsis.' Well of course, that forces us to then look at the word, catharsis. The 2nd definition says:

2
a : purification or purgation of the emotions (as pity and fear) primarily through art
b : a purification or purgation that brings about spiritual renewal or release from tension

Well Halleluiah! I'd say that both of those definitions apply to me. I don't easily express myself in any other form. The visions in my head never quite translate into the right shapes on paper, either with paint, crayon, or pencil. I don't consider myself an actor. My piano playing ability has never quite advanced to where I'd like it to be. Instead, I pour myself into writing, letting the emotions splash onto the page and land where they may.

While at the vet, I was thinking of what I could put into this post. Melina came with me to the vet, dressed in her little ballerina costume. She asked about boy dancers, and immediately, the movie Billy Elliott came to mind. If you haven't seen the movie, then this image will be lost on you. In short, Billy Elliott wanted to dance; his dad wanted him to box. In the end, Billy wins. He attends ballet school, and much later in life, lands the lead in Swan Lake. The final scene shows Billy, behind the curtain, getting ready to dance. The music surges in the background, and on cue, Billy leaps. In fact, he soars. The feeling of soaring that I get every time I see that final scene of the movie is the same one I get when I write, at least when I write something meaningful.

And there you have it. So now tell me, why do you read blogs? In particular, why read this one?

Happy Birthday, Aaron!

2011-11-01T08:19:00.003-04:00

On this first day of November, we celebrate not only the kick off of my month long quest to post every day, but more importantly, the birth of our little red-headed angel, Aaron! Okay, he might not be an angel, but we can't deny he has red hair. I've said this before, but I'll say it again: As I pushed the soon-to-be-named Aaron out, the doctor said, "It's a boy, and he has red hair!"

So Happy Birthday, Aaron! Somehow it is so hard to believe that he is seven already! We celebrated over the weekend, so I'll have pictures to post soon. This year, we had a Dr. Who themed cake, which turned out nicely, I might add. Aaron agreed.

***
We trick-or-treated last night, so again, we will have more pictures to post. If I do this right, I can spread out the pictures we have and make my postings easier! Just kidding. I'll try not to be a slacker (ahem, Tara!).

***
Sorry for a short post, but have you seen those last few? I thought perhaps you are tired of hearing me speak!

***
One more thing. This is post number 100 for the year! Number-savvy Aaron might think it is cool that it fell on his birthday. I guess he is just lucky!

And More From That Beloved 4th Grade

2011-10-25T08:35:00.005-04:00

And something a little lighter from the 4th grade this week, lest you think I dwell on the negative side of things. Well, had I been a different person, this could have been interpreted negatively. But the more I think of this, the more I laugh.

Before I begin, though, let me first do something:

WARNING: CONTENT NOT SUITABLE FOR THE YOUNGER CROWD.

Zoe brought home her STAR/guided reading book yesterday. Just for the record, the book is called The Year of Secret Assignments*, by Jaclyn Moriarty. I have never read the book, nor had I ever heard of it. Zoe walks up to me and says, "Mom, what does this mean?" I take the book from her and read on page 41, "I have a lot of dreams about sex. I mean dreams about what I think sex is like. I think it must be good."

I looked at Zoe, but I couldn't speak. Really, I was speechless! Not because I didn't want to tell her what it meant, or thought it was weird she was asking. I was so flummoxed that she was coming home, from school, with a book like this, that I just couldn't talk. I said, "Wait a minute honey," and I paged through the book.

These sentences are what I found before I stopped looking:

Page 35: "And you think I'm wetting myself because your daddy's a partner in a law firm. Bite me, baby."

Page 26: "Dear Cassie: Eat shit and die, private school slag."

Page 24: "F*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*k me."

Page 19: "You should send me some dope and I should sell it. Or use it." "...It would be a bit like drug trafficking. I've heard that Brookfield has a marijuana plantation instead of a sport oval."

My friend found a reference to a "blow job" and "getting into his pants" somewhere else in the book.

I called said friend, and asked if she had looked at the book carefully. At that point, she had not. I decided to call the teacher. I am providing the best transcript I can of that conversation. Let me just say that she was in a meeting at the time with 2 of the other 4th grade teachers, so I started out differently than I would have if she had just been in her classroom. Let me also say that I have peppered her with questions and a few emails (for clarification purposes) so she might not have been thrilled to hear from me.

Me: Hi Mrs. A, this is Zoe and Talia's mom.
Mrs. A: Oh hi. How are you? (There might have been silent eyerolling when I
identified myself.)
Me: I am sorry to bother you, but I have a question regarding the guided
reading book that Zoe brought home. I can call you later or email you about it,
if you are busy.
Mrs. A: Well, is your question short?
Me: Yes. I wanted to let you know that I don't think the reading is
appropriate for this age. Let me read this passage to you. (I read the sentence
from p. 41 to her.)
Mrs. A: OH MY GOODNESS! IT SAYS THAT?!?
Me: Yes, it does.
Mrs. A: [To the other 2 teachers in the room] It talks about sex! I had no
idea. I have not read that book yet.

At that point, a secondary conversation goes on between Mrs. A and the other teacher. We were still on the phone, so of course, I can hear it.

Mr. S: Well aren't you supposed to have read the book?!
Mrs. A: Well I can't read all of them! It was in the book
room! They should be safe if they are from the book room!

To be fair, I agree with both of them.

In any case, the kids will be changing books! Mrs. A actually called the principal herself to tell him what happened. I appreciate that she kept him in the loop. I never thought to call him, but another parent might have in the same situation.

This morning I read a few pages from the book while having some coffee. It really is an older teen novel, most likely young adult, not a K-5 book. I don't know how it got in the book room, but I am guessing they ship those books somewhere else.

Mistakes happen. I just keep laughing about this one!

4th Grade (Teacher's) Logic

2011-10-24T11:35:00.002-04:00

Here is another bit that goes along with my Friday Ergh! post of last week.

First up, a bit of the teacher's bonus-word-only-counts-sometimes spelling logic. The girls have a bonus word on the spelling list each week. If you get that bonus word right, it can only help you if you've actually spelled a word wrong. Therefore, if you get 13 out of 15, and the bonus word correct, in the end you get 14/15. But, if you get 15/15 and the bonus word correct, you get a big old nothing.

Where is the logic in that? You tell me. Why can't they get the extra point and use it for later? How fair is that to the students? Let's only help the kids that screw up!

And along those lines, you have the retake-a-test-if-you-get-a-D-or-an-F logic. It should be obvious what that one concerns. Here's the thing, though. You get to retake the test and then take the higher of the two grades! Last year, they would average the two grades if you had to retake the test. That seemed fair. But take the higher grade?!? Let us imagine a child that messes up regularly and retakes the test (I hope it is a different version) to go from a D to an A each time. How do we know that the child isn't deliberately doing poorly so that they can have a second chance? I wouldn't put it past some kids I know (I don't think ours have thought of that yet, thank goodness) to try to retake tests regularly. And again, let's only help the kids that screw up!

Am I overreacting? Do I express these concerns at some point to the teacher and/or principal? I don't have a clue! I've complained enough to Tim and my mother, but some things just get to you, you know?

By the way, over the weekend I figured out a way for the teachers to make the kids pay attention to details, but to still focus on content, too. Give out two grades! For each test or worksheet, the teacher could have a content grade and an exposition grade. They could assign whatever weight they want to each, although I personally would assign a heavier weight to content. Simple, yet brilliant, don't you think?

Friday Ergh!

2011-10-21T12:45:00.003-04:00

I am in the midst of a war with myself. I continually vacillate between being extremely happy with the kids' school and wanting to pull them out and homeschool them.

For the record, Aaron is enjoying first grade, and we are enjoying his teacher. This is the second go-around with her. Zoe had Mrs. G for first grade, and we loved her then. We still do. All teachers have their pros and cons, but Mrs. G has been teaching for so long, she has her stuff together. That isn't to say she can't adapt, though. We have seen some differences between what Zoe did and what Aaron is doing in class.

One of the things I like about Mrs. G is her no-nonsense communication. She tells you what to expect and when and she sticks to a schedule. Each week, we know when the homework will come home, and when it is due, since it doesn't change from week to week. She also records a weekly message that we listen to on Monday afternoon. For the most part, if Aaron misses out on something, it will usually be due to something on our part, not that of Mrs. G's. There have been times when she has stumbled, but really, she is pretty efficient and works like a well-oiled machine!

As for the girls, I haven't yet written about them this year in too much detail. This is the first year we've put them together, and while I like their teachers (they are sort of team taught) the girls are distracted. At conferences last week, it was apparent that Tim and I and the teachers all agree that something is distracting the girls, and that they should be doing better in school. We think it is partly due to a boy, but they are also in the same class as their best friend. Boy, best friend, sister...will any learning get done?

Now, I should say that fourth grade material is more difficult, but the girls are bringing home papers with careless errors. If you take away those careless mistakes, they actually understand the material and do pretty well with it. I am keeping everything in a box, and I've looked at their papers in length. Part of the issue, it seems, is that the teachers are getting picky. So no spelling errors, no capitalization errors, no incomplete sentences, etc. Talia spelled all of her words on the test last week correctly, but there was a space between the words in two compound words (so they looked like two words) and therefore, they were marked wrong. Zoe capitalized a letter that should not have been capitalized, and therefore, it was wrong. I am not going to quibble here. Those are the rules, and my kids, along with everyone else, should adjust. Better to learn about making careless errors now than to wait until later in life, if you ask me.

But unlike first grade and Mrs. G, the communication is really lacking in fourth grade. We get a weekly letter that gives us a vague idea of what is going on, but that is it. There is nothing written as far as homework in the planners, and to be honest, I don't see that much work coming home to understand what they actually are doing during the day! I do understand that our kids should become more responsible and that they should develop the skills to take what the teacher says and relay it to us. But it isn't completely working, and lots of things are getting lost in the mix.

This week, the girls came home, on a Wednesday, telling me that they needed to get a certain book from the library for Thursday. Each child needed a different book, of course! I told them I might have to request those books, which could take a couple of days. "Why didn't you tell me before today?" I asked. Both of them weren't sure. The girls added that the book is going to be used for their reading contract during STAR time. STAR time is a reading group based on ability, to make it short. It is different from what we know as guided reading time. I think this is the difference between them:

Guided reading: the kids within one class are split according to ability and they do their separate lessons with the teacher.

STAR time: the kids of the same ability come together as a group and work on lessons with the teacher (they can come from different classes).

But in short, this is what I understood the girls to be asking:

1. I need X book for tomorrow.
2. It is going to be the book I read during STAR time and use for my reading contract.
3. We picked the Sci-Fi genre, so it is a Sci-Fi book.
4. The teacher told us to use the computers to find a book and left the room.

I called a friend to see if she had the book that Zoe was going to read. She did and said we could borrow it. Furthermore, she was headed to the bookstore to see if she could find her daughter's pick and she would check to see if the store had Talia's book.

We got hold of each other again, when we realized that neither of the options were Sci-Fi, but Fantasy. Ugh. So, the friend called another friend to see if that friend had a book that Talia and Zoe could borrow that was in the Sci-Fi genre. She did. My friend (thank goodness for good friends) eventually dropped all of them by the house. But, I ran around our house finding realistic-fiction stories, too, in the event that they could change genres. I spent a lot of time and energy on this, and the other ladies did, too. Wait, there is more!

The next day, this is what I found out:

1. For STAR time, the kids are using an entirely different book than the one they each picked. This one was picked by the guided reading group teacher (different than the STAR group teacher).
2. Therefore, they'd be reading the same book for STAR time and guided reading (supposedly it is a difficult book and they didn't want to overload them).
3. They wasted an entire half hour looking for a book, when they already had one.

Are you confused? I am! Clearly the girls already had a book when the STAR teacher told them to look for a book and left the room. These kids are 9. Couldn't she have reminded the girls that the guided reading teacher had decided to use the same book? A gentle reminder to start reading, instead of wasting time on the computer? Furthermore, we can do searches online here. What are we paying those teachers for? To walk out of the room? And what if something had happened when she was out of the room? According to the girls, she was gone for longer than the time it would take to go to the restroom and get the mail. Perhaps she used the computers as a babysitter.

I think all of this could have been avoided if the following had been sent home by one of the 4th grade teachers. It is called a letter, and we can use them to communicate!

Dear Parent:

We are starting our reading contracts with the kids. These have never been used before, so please be aware that we need to work out all the kinks.

We have decided that there will be a couple of ways for the kids to choose their books. 1. Children can use the same book as will be used for the monthly book report. 2. The guided reading teacher can request that the same book be used for both STAR time and guided reading. 3. A student can select a book from the library or one of those that the teacher has.

Please be sure to remind your child to find out which of the ways above applies to them, and have them write it in their planner. Each time, it might vary. If they have questions, they should ask either the STAR teacher or the guided reading teacher.

Thank you for your support.
Your teacher.

Even then, I still have questions! How many of these reading contracts are going to be done, and how frequent will they be? How many points are they worth? And what weight are they? Will some of this be done at home? Who actually chooses the genre? The kids as a group, the teacher, or the individual children? It is enough to make me go batty. My heart rate is increasing just thinking about it, and I am usually pretty cool and laid back.

Ah, so I apologize for my rant. I am all for wanting kids to become independent, but you know what? My job is to help them do just that. You don't just throw them in the deep end and watch them flail! I need the information at my disposal to cultivate that independence. Not all of it, but at least some of it, and I don't feel like the teachers are forthcoming.

What to do about that? I don't know. I just don't know. The kids are resilient, so perhaps they will step up their game and work hard to get all of the information to us. But if they are so concerned with getting those details (again, back to the teachers being picky) will they actually be learning the content? I wonder if any other parents, besides Mrs. D and myself (and our spouses) actually care? Perhaps I just need to sit back and go for the ride. I'll try to do that before I haul the kids out of school, but each day, I am just that much closer to getting out the tow truck.

Gearing Up!

2011-10-20T09:08:00.002-04:00

It is October 20th, and November 1st is right around the corner. That means NaBloPoMo. I will attempt, again, to make a post for every day in the month of November. Usually I have enough fodder, and the site gives some good writing prompts, but I'd rather hear what my readers (the few of you that there are) would like to know about us.

Please leave a comment, or send me an email (you know how to reach me), letting me know what you'd like to see here.

And Tara, keep it clean!

Thanks!
Chris

Slacker!

2011-10-19T13:19:00.002-04:00

A faithful reader from the North called me a slacker today. Yes, my lovely and talented, possessor of one child sister said it in jest, but in some ways, she might be right.

I just ate my soup while I finished up the novel I was reading. I could have taken bites of my lunch while chopping the vegetables for stir-fry. Slacker!

I read a couple of books to Melina while we had a tea party today. I didn't get to the store to get materials for Aaron's birthday or the salad dressing the kids like. Slacker!

After putting Melina in her room for a nap, I threw one load of laundry in the dryer and started another load to wash. I might have already had those loads done last night, but I helped the girls start their book reports. Slacker!

I am betting that I can come up with at least another handful of decisions I made today that could potentially be considered slacking. But most of my audience, including the faithful reader from the North, is trying to juggle many, many things throughout the day. And if I had made the decisions in the opposite direction -- chopping vegetables while eating lunch, going to the store, and doing the laundry last night -- I'd be worse than a slacker. I'd be a neglectful parent. I might even be a neglectful parent with only 4 fingers on one hand.

Fall Fun!

2011-10-13T08:52:00.004-04:00

All 4 kids were playing with 2 neighbor kids outside yesterday. I thought they were raking leaves into a pile. When I went outside, this is what I found:

Aaron had a ton of trouble walking, considering his pant legs were so stuffed. I don't have a clue how the kids convinced his friend to hold a baby and a purse, but I think he was supposed to be a girl. Clearly, he went along with it.

I bet they both were itchy after that! Always a good time in the leaves!

Let Down Your Golden Hair!

2011-10-10T10:02:00.003-04:00

Melina has become infatuated with the movie Tangled. We borrowed it from a friend last week, and she has seen it at least twice so far. She can finally say the name Rapunzel without starting, "What's her name again?" and she has me dressed up as Rapunzel's mom, Mother Gothel, who really wasn't her mom.

Hence the dress and heels on a Monday morning. I just can't see how those 1950s housewives were able to cook and clean like this! It is a cool morning, so I wanted to put a sweater on. In order for Melina to approve that look (it isn't quite what she thought Mother Gothel would wear), I had to tell her it was my cloak. Go figure.

Melina has been pretty good with getting the Tangled dialogue and details right. But this morning, this is what went down at our house:

Melina: Can you please be Rapunzel's mom?
Me: Daddy is home. Can he be Flynn? Flynn Rider?
Melina: That isn't his real name.
Me: Oh yes. His name is Eugene.
Melina: No, that is his middle name. His real name is Sherbet.
Me: Oh really.

You might not find this funny, if you don't know the movie. But the real name of Flynn Rider is Eugene Fitzherbert. Not Sherbet.

Beth

2011-10-07T13:17:00.004-04:00

I am not a big user of Facebook. I do check it most days, just to say Happy Birthday to those who have a birthday or look for a new picture or two from some good friends and family. Since there have been changes to Facebook, I went in and made a custom list of my friends so that I could be sure to see what I wanted. While I was clicking on the friend list, I realized that I hadn’t heard from a few people in a while. Once I made my list, I went back to check-in on their profiles to see what they have been doing as of late.

Imagine my shock and horror when I clicked over to my friend Beth’s profile. One of the first postings was from her teenage daughter. She expressed sadness and regret at not being able to see her mom. I scrolled down the page, and found another post: this time, the daughter had written on Mother’s Day how much she missed her mom. It slowly dawned on me that Beth had passed away, sometime within the last year, and I didn’t even know it.

I have to admit that I was much more shaken than I ever thought I would be. I continued looking at the older posts on her page, and found some of the information I wanted. From the looks of it, Beth had passed away on December 2, 2010, and left behind a 16 year old daughter, a 2 year old son, and her fiancé. What happened to her? I don’t know, and I am having trouble finding out.

I didn’t know Beth extremely well, but we sometimes commented on the other's posts. She was a student in my A&P classes. She chose to take me for all 3 quarters, and over that time, we spoke often. I don’t become Facebook friends with all of my past students, so there must have been something about Beth that spoke to me. And there was. I remember the first day I saw her in class. She had long blondish hair, some hip clothing, and a tan. Had I rushed to judgment here, I would have been completely wrong about her.

Beth was gushing about her new baby (I had one too, at the time) and speaking proudly about her older child. Truth be told, she just looked too young to have a 14 year old daughter! She sat right in the second row, and told me that she was so tired, that she had to sit in that spot in order to do well. These were evening classes, so even though I can’t remember if she worked outside the home during the day, I know that her days were filled with at least child-rearing and domestic duties. To come to school after a full day of that sort of work is commendable, to say the least.

Beth was not my best student, and she tended to ask the obvious questions. Sometimes, I wondered if she wasn’t listening, or if she just didn’t understand what I had said, or likely, she was just too tired to put all of the pieces together (I've been there!). But Beth was a trooper and was diligent. She befriended anyone, and asked help of everyone. This wasn’t a bad thing, though. If she knew the answer, she’d give the other students her knowledge without hesitation. Therefore, she sort of expected the same in return. Beth worked extremely hard every quarter to pass my class, and by the third quarter, she had done well enough to earn herself a B. To Beth, that was like winning the lottery. She was so proud of having earned a B in a tough class, and to be honest, I was quite proud of her myself.

There are always a few people in class who touch you. They can be the people that ask so many difficult questions it drives you crazy, but makes you a better teacher. Or, they can be the people that remind you of yourself. Furthermore, they can just have a common interest, so much that you become good friends. Beth didn’t fall into any of those categories, but something about her just resonated with me. She was only 31 when she took my class, but had lived enough to gain wisdom unlike many other people twice her age. Beth shared that wisdom willingly, and treated everyone with respect and kindness. The bottom line is that Beth was just good. Overall, a wonderful, kind, friendly soul, that clearly left this earth a little too early.

Yesterday, I found myself in tears when I realized that she had died last year. I felt angry that I didn’t know about her death, upset that I didn’t get to the funeral, and at a loss at what I could do now, almost a year later. There really isn’t much for me to do at all. I could send a note to her fiancé or see if a fund has been set up for her kids. And I’ll probably look into both of those options. But for now, I just had to tell the public about Beth. I don’t think anyone knows just how much of an impact we can have on one another. I know Beth didn’t.

Eat Your Veggies

2011-10-06T09:23:00.003-04:00

Our CSA box came complete with turnips this week. I wasn't sure what do to with them, besides roast them, so I looked up roasted turnips online. The entire recipe I chose can be found here.

In short, you chop up turnips, sweet potatoes, and granny smith apples, and add dried cranberries, brown sugar, and butter. If you like sweet potatoes, or sweet potato casseroles that actually end up being sweet, this recipe is for you. Although I do have to warn you that it really is much more of a dessert item, in my opinion. Tim and I both loved it, and I made sure not to use too much brown sugar or butter. It is a great recipe for the holidays, I think, so I thought I would share it.

Professional Letter Closings

2011-10-04T08:30:00.006-04:00

You might wonder about the title of my post today. You see, I do a little bit of work for a friend of mine, who has a business based in New Jersey. She is very bright, and excellent at what she does. Because of these traits, she has little tolerance for people that don't do his/her job as well as she does.

I certainly wouldn't be able to do her job, as I am not trained for it. But she knows me pretty well, and trusts me. I am not going to stab her in the back or make her life difficult, and therefore, she lets me do some menial tasks. All of which take about 1 hour a month. My kind of gig. Just to be fair, she has told me that when I am ready, she would be happy to have me take care of more than just the mundane affairs. I might be ready to do more, but I need to find more time!

Anyway, because she is in New Jersey, she and I correspond mostly via email. I also rely on email as a way to interact with her clients and/or people with whom she is networking. She has always closed her emails (to me and others) this way:

Best,
S

And my question has always been. Best what? Best day? That doesn't really make sense. You are the best? No, that isn't it either. I am the best? Meaning S? Well, she might think she is, but that isn't the way to garner more clients now, is it? In actuality, I know that she means something akin to Best wishes, but her closing got me thinking.

I decided to look up some sites that had professional letter closings just to see what these places suggest. I personally just use "Thank you" and my signature for all of the dealings with S and her clients. Not creative, but polite. The following list is what I found at several sites to be just as appropriate, and boring, I might add!

Kind regards/wishes
Warmest regards
Many Thanks/Kind thanks
With
appreciation
Sincerely

I delved a bit further in my search, and found a great website with some original ideas. I wanted to copy the entire article, which I know would go against copyright, so I thought it best to direct you there. If you have the time and interest, check it out. There is a list of the same standard greetings I shared above, and then some more unique ways of closing your letters. A few of the more personal options they list:

Cheerful greetings to all
Hugs (I dare myself to use this one!)
Kind thoughts
Take care
Wishing you the best
Write soon
Your friend
Yours in friendship (What would these people think?!?!)

S might just think I am a lunatic if I use any of these:

Cheerio
Cheers
I'm out
More to come
Smiles
Ta ta for now

And, she might just might let me go should I ever venture out with these:

Happy trails to you
Hasta la vista, baby
Keep your stick on the ice
Kiss kiss bang bang
Live long and prosper
Tag! You’re it
Yabba dabba do

In the end, the point is really to choose a closing that is appropriate for the setting. Her "Best" is just fine, as is my "Thank you" I suppose. But I'd love to see the look on a client's face if I sent the following message to them:

Dear Mr. G:

I am writing to confirm your lunch meeting with S for tomorrow, October 5,
at 12 pm. A reservation has been made at X Restaurant, and is under the
name of G.

Please let me know that this day and time are still convenient for
you.

May the force be with you...

Chris

Don't Tell Mom The Babysitter Is...

2011-10-03T12:53:00.005-04:00

From Hellraiser.

This is what happens when you babysit my children.

Thanks to Tara for the picture.

Thanks to Todd for being a good sport.

Dog Days, Part II

2011-09-30T10:24:00.002-04:00

Remember when I said Molly was welcome anytime?

Did I speak too soon?

The dog ate an entire can of playdough! Melina had her little playdough treats on plates, and the dog took it upon herself to eat them.

I called Tara to find out if she wanted me to take Molly to the vet. To be honest, playdough is not meant to be eaten, but it is non-toxic, and made with wheat. How bad could it be? Tara said she'd call her vet and find out the protocol.

Tara's first words to me, upon calling me back, were: "Please don't kill me."

Apparently the dog will be fine, but we might have to deal with loose stools. Good times.

Poor Baby!

2011-09-27T11:50:00.008-04:00

Ferdinand and Lucy were our original twins. After the girls arrived, I feared that every child or animal that entered our abode would be in sets of two! Ferdinand, hasn't been doing well lately. It became apparent over the last couple of months: his coat was suffering, he was drinking and urinating quite a bit, and he lost some weight. He lost so much weight that when Tara visited this was our conversation

Tara: I see, you finally put Ferdinand on a diet.
Me: Um, I think he is sick.
Tara: Oh.

Furthermore, his energy levels were down, and he was complaining. My first thought was diabetes, but after some investigation, I realized that it could be hyperthyroidism or perhaps chronic renal disease. It didn't really matter what it was, I just knew he had to see the vet.

Trying to get the cat to the top of the priority list is tough. It took some time to do so, but we finally managed to take him over last week. The doctor suspected diabetes, and confirmed it with a blood test the next day. After speaking with her on the phone, we headed back to the vet to find out what the course of action would be.

As of right now, Ferdinand gets one unit of insulin, two times a day. We will head back to get his blood sugar checked in a couple of days, and then we will adjust the dosage, if need be. At some point, we will be changing his food, too. It is amazing what just one unit of insulin can do for a 13 pound (used to be 18 pound!) cat. Within the day, Ferdinand wasn't drinking as much, and the litter was staying drier! He seemed to have more energy, and we saw him around the house more.

It has been tough to remember to take care of the extra dog as well as giving Ferdinand what he needs on time. However, it makes me very grateful for having healthy children. I would much rather give my cat insulin than one of the kids.

I'll keep you updated on his health.

Dog Days

2011-09-22T13:36:00.002-04:00

I usually don't double post, but today, I just felt like it.

We are babysitting Molly, who is a rather large black labrador of some sort. She is not some random dog off the street -- she is Tara's dog. Why do we have her? Tara and Todd babysat the kids for us a couple of weekends ago, and they left the dog. Leaving the dog was prearranged. If we have her, then they don't need a dog sitter for the times they would like to go camping over the next couple of weeks.

My mom thought I was crazy to say yes to watching the dogs, but I guess the same could be said of Tara saying yes to watching 4 kids. Either way, we both are getting something out of the deal. So far, everything has been fine with Molly. She is pretty calm and doesn't bark (yes!) as much as Shadow does. However, I realize just how nice of a dog Shadow is, now that I have someone to whom I can compare him.

Molly slobbers. On the floor, on the people, on the couch.
Molly goes upstairs. She sneaks by the baby gate (put there just for her) in order to investigate the upper floor. The cats have no place to hide anymore!
Molly digs in my purse to get snacks. Not dog snacks, either. I came home yesterday to find that she had pulled out Melina's snack container and managed to get the lid off and eat all of the cheddar bunnies. Those Annie's bunnies are expensive! I'll get back at her somehow!
Molly has flatulence that cannot be described as anything less than abominable. Okay, I'll be honest, Shadow has this problem, but perhaps I am already more used to his odor, having spent the last 4 years with him.
Molly eats out of Shadow's bowl, even after she has eaten her own food.

And reason #5 was the one that sent me over here to write. Because Molly was standing there, RIGHT IN FRONT OF SHADOW, eating his food. AND SHADOW DID NOTHING! Not a growl or a grimace. If someone were taking my food, I'd have shown more emotion than this dog did. And that is why he is just right for this family of 4 kids and 2 cats.

Truthfully, Molly is welcome any time.

Things

2011-09-22T08:52:00.002-04:00

A student who plans on becoming a nurse, just said to me: "I wish these anatomy professors would concentrate on the anatomy, and not the physiology." Apparently, she doesn't plan on knowing HOW everything works, she just wants to know WHERE and WHAT things are. I will be putting her name in my mental rolodex and avoiding her at all costs, should I encounter her in the hospital.

***

Last week, I volunteered in the girls' classroom and helped with a science experiment. I was at Talia's table. There were two boys there that just didn't want to listen to me. One consistently chattered and the other didn't pay attention. Talia could tell I was frustrated. At one point I said, "My rule, when I am teaching, is that you pay attention!" I didn't yell, but I spoke in a stern manner. The kids still didn't cooperate.

I spoke with the teacher afterward, and she was apologetic. She doesn't want to run off the volunteers afterall! She actually spoke to the students, and then to the prinicipal! Two days ago I received letters from both boys apologizing for their behavior. I am guessing those two boys won't want to see my face again!

The experience taught me, though, that I think the school is trying to do the right thing. Mrs. M wasn't going to let the behavior slide, and neither did the principal. Perhaps the boys will think twice the next time they are to do a project with either a volunteer, or their own teacher.

***
I have a confession to make: my will power with respect to desserts is declining. I gave the kids dessert twice on Sunday so that I wouldn't eat the leftover eclair cake!

Pictures That Need To Be Posted!

2011-09-15T21:19:00.003-04:00

1. Melina fishing. Don't ask. She decided it.

2. The girls' farmer's market. They were hoping to make some money, selling produce we'd already paid for, but no one had any cash.

3. Aaron, just being Aaron.

4. A penguin, named Elvis, at the wedding reception of Juan and Lisa.

5. The kids on the first day of school. Melina didn't start until this week. Pictures of that to come.

6. A nice picture of our friends, Tim and Laura, and their kids. Thanks for stopping by!

Grounded!

2011-09-13T20:02:00.002-04:00

I received a phone call today from Aaron's teacher.

When I saw her name on the caller ID, I thought perhaps she needed me to volunteer my time.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

Remember, this kid has red hair, and a passion like no other.

He needs to channel that passion properly.

Wrestling with another child on the playground and practically choking that child is NOT the proper channel.

I was completely livid, not to mention mortified that I had just spoken to Aaron's teacher about a behavioral problem. I dragged Aaron upstairs to my room, shut the door, and sat him down for a conversation. According to Aaron, the kids were playing. What were they playing? Vampire and Werewolf. What is that? I don't know, but it might explain why necks were involved. We discussed, at great length, how playing cannot involve touching other kids (tag not included). We discussed how he cannot push other children, and that he cannot be aggressive. We talked about making good choices, and whether or not his decision to put his hands around another child was a good choice. He acknowledged that it wasn't.

I don't think Aaron is a bad kid. I don't try to make excuses for him. There is no excuse to possibly hurting another child. But I do have to say that Aaron loves to play, and sometimes, with other boys, it can get a bit rough. Can the teacher ascertain from a distance what exactly is going on? I don't know. I didn't make any excuses to her, and I didn't let him make any excuses to me. For now, the kid is grounded: no computer or TV for the week, which means no Dr. Who! If we hear about another issue, then soccer is off the table completely. I am hoping that the idea of no soccer is enough of a deterrent to put my little man in line.

All Things Scooby!

2011-09-08T13:56:00.003-04:00

I happened upon a website today that is pretty neat. In fact, it goes by the name of Neatorama. I found it when I googled Chinese footbinding. You might wonder why I was looking to learn more about that practice. A book I am reading, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, has a pretty graphic description of the procedure used to bind women's feet. I don't doubt the author's description; I just want more information. In any case, Neatorama had an article on that practice, and then I stumbled upon a very informative series of articles regarding Scooby-Doo.

If you have kept up with our blog at all, you know that Melina is a Scooby-Doo fan. She was Scooby-Doo last Halloween, and if she is given the choice to watch something, she will choose Scooby-Doo. "I want the old ones, Mom," she says. By old, she means the ones I watched when I was a kid. I guess they are pretty old, aren't they?

My plan is to bookmark the website and let the kids peruse the wealth of information on Scooby-Doo. It talks about when the show first started, and why it first started. The articles give some background on the actors that do the voices, and what show served as Scooby-Doo's model. (Do you know which show? I had no idea.) I think the kids will find the information rather interesting, perhaps even Melina someday.

Oh How The Time Flies!

2011-09-07T12:57:00.004-04:00

The kids have been in school for two weeks already. And I haven't posted since August 30. Yikes! Melina and I have been so busy here, the days are flying by! We spent much of the first two weeks at the kids' school, helping with first grade lunch and a random science experiment for the fourth grade. This week, Melina and I are finishing up some odds and ends before we both head to school next week.

Today, Melina had her first real dentist checkup. The last time, she sat in the chair while Miss Maria counted her teeth and showed her all of the instruments. This time, she sat through an entire dental cleaning, AND had an X-ray. One of her teeth never did come in, so the dentist wanted to see if the permanent tooth is at least there. As far as he can tell, it is. I forgot the camera, but the look on Melina's face when she went up and down in the chair, and then backwards, was priceless!

Aaron is enjoying first grade, but he is worn out by the end of the day. We just bought him a new pair of sneakers, too, with lights. The kid has been looking for light-up shoes for a while now, but each pair we found was at least $55. I told him that I wasn't going to pay more for his shoes than my own (he doesn't need to know that I pay top dollar for my running shoes!). Luckily, this weekend we found a cheap pair, that was then on-sale! Yippee! I don't mind $16.98 for a new pair of light-up shoes! And, Aaron is happy.

***
I wrote, back in August, about the girls' first book club. The author posted the kids' pictures on her website, and wrote a short paragraph. If you are into reading juvenile fiction (for young ladies, really) I do recommend Tracy Trivas' book, The Wish Stealers. Overall, a good read.

And speaking of good reads, Gina recommended The Art of Racing in the Rain. Read it. Loved it. Still processing it. But I came away with a new appreciation for my dog, race car driving, and life in general. Can't complain about that!

***
We can't forget to shout out a quick Happy Birthday! to Tara and Elli! Many more to you both!

Zoo Trip!

2011-08-30T11:35:00.003-04:00

A good friend of ours lives about 3.5 hours away. It had been ages since we last saw him, so we thought about our options for a visit. The best thing for everyone was to meet with Eben for the day, so we chose a zoo that was about 2.5 hours away for our family and Eben.

I had not been to a zoo since our visit to St. Louis when Aaron was 1.5 years old, a visit that Aaron didn't even remember. The day turned out to be quite humid and warm (it was early August after all) but the rain that fell helped keep us slightly cooler. Melina was smitten with Eben. She wanted him to push her stroller, and she held his hand for part of the day. Overall, it was a good day.