And then I woke up...

I Just Might Want To Go On the Cart

2012-01-31T17:49:00.000-05:00

Ugh.

Butt kicking, day three. I had hoped (honestly and earnestly hoped) that yesterday would be the end of feeling like I was in the process of being run over by multiple trucks. Apparently not so much. On the positive side, no more vomit. But that's really kind of where the positives end.

Have I mentioned that we leave for Florida tomorrow? In the car? For two days? Someone shoot me now.

I am really, really, REALLY hoping that I wake up tomorrow and can at least pretend that there are birds, sunshine, and happiness somewhere in existence. (They don't have to be singing at me, they just have to exist.) Cause today, even after a nearly 3 hour nap, I'm just toasted. And that doesn't bode well when you have a husband who doesn't like to drive long distances and was counting on you to do the bulk of the driving.

If I keep telling myself "it's an adventure", do you think it'll become fun?

Hammered

2012-01-30T13:32:00.000-05:00

The very best thing that could possibly happen to a family getting ready to head on a rather long road trip is a bout of the stomach flu. And that is what this past weekend had in store for us around the Sleepy household.

The kiddo started things off on Thursday, sending the friends we had a play date with on Wednesday into a tizzy (he had no indication whatsoever that he was off on Wednesday, so really, not sure how I could have prevented it.) He was mostly better by Friday - though still has not quite mastered the concept of run for the toilet, not mommy, if you think you're going to puke. Give the vast quantities of puke I had deposited all over me, it's not terribly surprising that yesterday the ick found me.

(So, yes, apparently there's a 4 day incubation period. Guessing that means he picked it up at church last week.)

Yesterday found me moaning piteously for the bulk of the day, clinging to an 8-quart stockpot because every joint and muscle in my body felt like it was alternately being sawed in two with something dull and rusty or lit on fire.

Fun times.

I'm happy to report that I woke this morning feeling like life might be worth living after all. The kiddo seems to be mostly over the hump as well (though he's still ever so slightly off. We're both on the applesauce and toast diet around here.) And Tim has, thus far, managed to completely avoid any ill effects. Fingers crossed that trend continues...cause what we *really* don't need is a newborn with the stomach flu.

Were We Coming Or Going?

2012-01-26T14:27:00.000-05:00

A scattershot of random, because that's where my brain is currently hovering.

They moved the due date...again. On the positive side, it bought a few more days. On the other hand, I'm ready to hold my baby already! (And really, if it was sooner then that would mean I'd be making more progress on my list, right?)
I took a deep breath and sent out the first of many agent queries last night. Of course, now I'm trying to decide if I want to do simultaneous submissions (all that I'm considering are fine with that) or just do one at a time. I can see the sense of both methods...and then I throw my current life into the mix (new baby, new class starting, so forth, so on) and I begin to understand why I feel a tad bit stressed.
The kiddo wasn't feeling well last night, so I tucked him into our bed for the first part of the night (while we were still up), intending to move him when we went to bed. Right until he threw up all over the bed and me when it was time to move. So after changing the sheets and administering medicine and so for and so on, he and I snuggled in the sick bed and Tim slept elsewhere. So far today no more vomit. But I know my boy doesn't feel well when he'll sit still for hours on end and still want to go take a nap. Poor baby.
I'm teaching a real programming class this coming term (vs. web programming which, while fun, is not really real programming in my mind - at least not the surface level the class I teach covers). Is it wrong to be really excited about getting back into object inheritance?
If you don't know what object inheritance is, that's ok. You can think I'm weird for being excited by it, too.
I'm re-reading Ender's Game right now. Such a fantastic book. I'm nervous that they're making a movie of it, though Harrison Ford as Col. Graff works for me, so I'm tentatively hopeful.
I believe that is all...as you were.

Plan? I Laugh in the Face of Plans!

2012-01-24T13:56:00.000-05:00

This is where someone who has never been pregnant realizes what a strange, strange thing it really is. Because to me? It's all just basic math. Conception + 9 months = baby.

But apparently there are all these other things to take into consideration, like doctor golf and vacation plans, and so what ends up happening is the due date keeps moving.

If all goes according to the plan as of now, at this time next week, I'll be a mother of two. (Which hey, awesome. And also? Gulp.)

Presumably that date won't move again. At least, I hope not, I have a lot to do now and very little time to do it.

A Current Pet Peeve

2012-01-23T14:19:00.000-05:00

This actually has been a pet peeve for quite a while (and really, since pet peeves are the only pets that apparently the ones I love aren't allergic to, I'm going to be cultivating as many of them as I can.) However, now it seems like everyone from TV writers to book writers any many people who just happen to be able to type on a keyboard have glommed onto. Making it a pet peeve that I get to spend a whole hoop of time with.

Chronology.

As in: Please have one.

The world does not operate in flashes - be they backward, forward, or sideways.

In TV land, the worst (though by no means only) offender of late is NCIS. I think it would be easier to count the episodes since September that started at the beginning and ended at the end as opposed to starting at the end, flashing "Two Days Earlier" or "24 Hours Ago" or some similar nonsense across the screen and pushing us back to tell the story of whatever amazing (ha!) cliffhanger they decided to start us with. I get it if you want to do that every now and then. It shakes things up. Maybe it's a really great cliffhanger. But when it's practically every episode it loses its effectiveness and just makes me want to watch five minutes, fast forward to the end to see the conclusion of the cliffhanger and be done.

Yesterday I finished a book that I'd been slogging through for nearly a week. It definitely falls into the category of "Sometimes there's a reason the Kindle books are free." This book jumped around in the timeline so much and so fast (and usually with so little indication) that it was difficult to tell who was who and what was what and when was when. It was confusing enough that, for the longest time (like 60% of the book), I was convinced that there was one character using two different names depending on his situation. Then it seemed like it might be clear that, no, they were two different people with similar intersecting life stories. Then it flitted back to them being just one person with two names again. And at the end, I think the author realized HE had no idea if it was one person or two and thus tried to make it into a mystery. The problem being that you would actually have to care about one (or both - heck, any) of the characters to really worry about solving said mystery. As it was, by the time I realized that no, the book was not going to get any better, I'd invested so much time in slogging that I felt I needed to just at least skim the rest of the thing so I could say I did.

But it kind of made my point. If you're so all over the place in your timeline that even you, the author, can't keep track, then maybe you should just stick with the ol' tried and true and start at the very beginning. It is, after all, the very best place to start.

Heartbroken

2012-01-20T20:04:00.000-05:00

Let me first quickly say this is not about our impending adoption. You may now all exhale.

When we went on our cruise this summer, Tim commented more than twice (probably somewhere around 2 zillion times, in fact) how nice it was to not feel like he needed his allergy medicine. He did great in Vancouver. He did great on the ship. He did great in Seattle. Then we got home and life was, once again, miserable. But we were all suffering...it was fall in Virginia, after all.

Shortly thereafter he went on a business trip to the frozen north (Massachusetts or somesuch northern place) and commented on how it was so nice to not need to double his allergy doses. But it's cold there, frankly I'm surprised people can survive, let alone allergens.

Last week, he went on a business trip to South Carolina. And while there, in the state that, while we lived there, caused him to curse all things allergy-like because they wrecked him every which way to Sunday, he commented how nice it was to not feel like he needed his allergy medicine. And something in me started to shrivel a little and cry "uh oh!" (not unlike a Lemming just before it explodes.)

This past week, he went on a business trip to Baltimore...same thing. No allergy medicine, life is free and delightful and his sinuses were clear. Then he came home. And within three hours of being home he was rummaging around in the medicine drawer and grumbling about his stupid allergies (to which the kiddo helpfully piped up, "We don't say 'stupid' daddy!")

I'm slow on the uptake, I'll admit it. But really, it seemed pretty clear at that point. Either Tim had grown allergic to me and the kiddo, or he'd developed an allergy to the dogs. And so, to test the theory, today the dogs went to live with my parents (though they may split their time with my sister, and/or they'll split them up and one will live at my folks and one at my sister's). We'll still get to see them plenty, but I'm heartbroken. Sure, they drove me a little nuts, but it's hard to sit here in the office and not hear the tapping of nails on the floor as someone sneaks around looking for a spare scritch or something to nibble.

And so we've become, essentially, a no pet household. (He's already deathly allergic to cats. We have the fish, but really...fish are not pets. At best they're mobile decorations.) I know, in the grand scheme of things, life could be a lot worse...but it's killing me just a little inside.

Tom-A-Toe, Tom-Ah-Toe

2012-01-19T14:13:00.000-05:00

As I've been reading and researching the steps I need to take to attempt to get my book published (Step 1: find an agent. Amusingly, this is similar to the whole: can't get a job without experience issue that many college graduates encounter. Most agents want people who are already published. Ah. The circle of life.) I've been trying to psych myself up for the inevitable rejections that are to come. Because I know that publishing is not easy - I watched my friend work tirelessly for many years before her first book was published. It's not all just writing the book (which is a big hurdle, certainly, but the hurdles just seem to get bigger from there.) The thing that has kept me from even finishing the umpteen bazillion half-books I have languishing on my hard drive is fear of failure. And probably fear of success thrown in there just to make me a complete nutcase. (Because really, what if I get it published and then everyone hates it? Isn't that worse than not getting published in the first place?) So actually pushing through the the very last sentence on the very last page of this was a huge step. Going back and re-reading and polishing it an even bigger one. Letting someone else look at it? Huge.

So now I'm faced with sending it out into the world for people who don't know me from Adam (or Eve, I guess, if we want to be gender-correct, presumably people would be able to tell me apart from Adam just by seeing my name.) It's marginally terrifying. And it's pushed me into thinking about why I care what other people think about my writing.

Lots of writing sites will tell you that you need to step up and own it - shout from the rooftops "I Am A Writer!" And I've been trying, over the past years, to do that, but it never really feels right to me. I write, certainly. But am I a writer? Is that who I am? Is it all of who I am, or just part? Because I am also a wife. And a mother. And a cook. And a bottle washer. It would seem that I am a lot of things.

Then I started looking at those labels and it occurred to me...that's not who I am, it's what I do. I do wifely things. I do motherly things. I cook. I clean. I write. But who am I? I don't think that I can (or really should) define my very being by any of those labels. The label that I most want to claim, the one that I care most about as far as defining myself? I am a child of God. If I can really absorb that, and make that the one thing that defines me, then really, does it matter anymore if someone doesn't like my writing than it does if my family doesn't care for tonight's dinner? Not really. Though I'll admit it, I don't like them not to like my cooking - I put a lot of love into that food. Just like there's a lot of love in my writing. So sure, yes, I don't want people to hate it...but it's likely that someone will. Not every recipe is a success. Not every story wins a prize.

Is the argument simply semantics? Maybe it is. I just hope that with the sure to be coming rejections I can keep focus on the fact that I'm just trying to use the talents I have. I'm a child of God. I also write.

How Do You Solve a Problem Like a Mud Pit?

2012-01-16T14:08:00.000-05:00

Long time readers of this here blog may recall that in November (no, it doesn't take much for me to consider you a long time reader. Make it back this week? You're in like Flynn!) we had a patio put in under our deck. The main purpose of this was to do something with the space that otherwise reverted to the natural state somewhere in the icky-ness factor of the LaBrea Tar Pits, though we never have found our pet saber toothed tiger.

After much digging and engineering (more than they originally banked on when they bid the project - which is sad for them, but we got a steal of a deal on a really awesome patio), we had a lovely stamped concrete patio where previously there was just a tar pit in the making.

Enter the bobcat. No, not this bobcat. Or this bobcat. This bobcat. See, our yard is hilly. And rocky. And apparently a real pain to dig in manually. Thus the bobcat (and really, I don't blame them.) Plus, that way they were able to shovel up all the dirt/mud/clay/tar pit and take it away to wherever they take such things. (Do you think there's a really big carpet somewhere that construction companies use to sweep large piles of dirt under?)

And so, as tracked vehicles are wont to do, the bobcat (despite adequate precautions - they put down boards and such for it to drive on) tore up exactly 99.99999% of living grass-like matter from the part of our yard that was not becoming a patio. Creating, in effect, an even larger version of LaBrea than we had originally been faced with.

For those of you who aren't aware, mid-November is not the time to try and plant grass. And so, we now have a really gorgeous patio and a yard full of, on a good day, hard packed, frozen mud. (On a not so good day, lots and lots of mud.) Couple this with two big dogs who like to run and pounce, both actions creating a bit of a digging motion, and you end up with two rather consistently filthy big dogs. And so we rearranged how they got to come in the house to try and minimize the mud that I have to mop, sweep, scrub, and yell out of the various flooring surfaces of our house and have, essentially, relegated them to the office (and it's lovely, easy to clean, laminate floor.) All would be well in the land if Tim was not allergic to dust.

Dust that you can watch collect on our black desks if you sit still enough.

Apparently, dog + dirt/mud = dust all over the room they're confined in. Who knew?

For now, we're researching options (I'm all about the astroturf and to heck with the HOA, Tim is thinking maybe really deep mulch. We'll probably also see about shade loving grass varieties.) and dusting every day. And mopping every day. Sometimes twice a day.

It leaves me to wonder if the cave people didn't just give up and die off simply to avoid cleaning up after their saber tooth tigers played in the tar pits all day.

Friends, Acquaintances, and In-Between

2012-01-12T14:58:00.000-05:00

A friend sent me an email a few weeks ago asking if she could have a baby shower for me once the new baby is home. I thought it was a lovely thought, but my initial response was no thank you. I mean, do people do showers for 2nd (and onward) kids? Asking her about that, she said absolutely and that every baby deserves to be celebrated. I get that - but I still feel like I'm gift grubbing. Regardless, she talked me into it (she's a very persistent person.)

Next up was a request for who to invite. After a ton of thought, I was able to come up with about six names. Some people I would love to invite live too far away. But the reality of it is that I just don't have a ton of what I consider friends (of those six, I would say there are 2 that I'm inviting because I'm inviting the other ladies from our Sunday school class and I don't want them to feel excluded, even if I really don't care one way or the other if they come. They're definitely acquaintances - and not great ones at that.)

I kicked around the idea of inviting several people I'm "friends" with on Facebook, but at the end of the day, I couldn't decide if they would think they really knew me well enough to be invited to such a thing. Plus, it seems to me that there's some hint of obligation attached to a shower invite (as with a birthday party) to bring a gift...and I just don't think there's any possibility that these ladies would want to do that. Plus they don't know any of the others who would be there, unless I invited more people from MOPS, and, well, I really don't want to start digging into that whole MOPS group dynamic.

At the end of the day, I realized that I probably have a very skewed and unusual definition of friend. It's probably overly exclusive. On the other hand, I feel like many people use the word friend entirely too casually, putting it in where acquaintance (which I can not seem to spell right the first time to save my life) is really much more accurate. Though really, it's probably more accurate to say that I use friend where family member or best friend should be used, relegating other people who would, likely, be hurt by the knowledge, to acquaintance even though traditional labeling would call them friend.

Which puts me back to wondering if I'm doing a disservice to these ladies by not even thinking that they'd want an invite. I mean, they can always say no and not come, I just hate to put them in the awkward situation of having to figure out why I think they're good enough friends to invite them to something like that when, in reality, I don't...I just didn't have anyone else to ask.

Publication Ponderings

2012-01-11T14:32:00.000-05:00

So I have finally completely finished (and even revised! And had reviewed by some objective readers!) something I've written (vs. my usual tack of getting about 3/4 through and then giving up and shuffling it away because of self doubt.) And now I face the next dilemma...do I actually do something with it?

I really think this one might be worth trying to get published. And here's where I hit the current sticky wicket: do I go the traditional route or do I self-publish? There are pros and cons to both - though the stigma that used to go along with something that was self-published is in decline these days, and that was really one major con.

As far as more traditional publishing, for the market it's in, I would pretty much have to find an agent first. Every one of the publishers in that market are pretty clear that they don't accept unagented submissions. There is one caveat/workaround/what-have-you, which is a site that the publishers actually all mention that is, effectively, a "pay-per-submission" come-all-ye agenting site. But I have to say, the idea of spending money (and it's not cheap!) to essentially list my proposal on Monster-for-books doesn't sit well. That seems to me to have the flavor of vanity publications (vs. self-publishing, though if you ask me to tell you the difference, I can't come up with much concrete other than the fact that at least if you self-publish, you're not paying tons of money for the privilege.)

That said, with traditional publishing, you have the shelf-life issue. Does it really get your work into more hands than self-publishing? It's hard to say. (Probably hard, if we're honest, to really even figure out how to do that comparison.)

There are hundreds (pretty much literally) of articles out there looking at the money end of things, with various conclusions (all somewhat dependent on the original slant of the author in the first place) - and really right now for me, it's not so much about the money. Yes, I'd like to earn some money, sure. But what I really want is for people I don't to know to read it and like it and want to read more. So what I most want to figure out is: what's the best format for making that happen?

Delightful

2012-01-09T22:54:00.000-05:00

You just know books are doing this when the lights are out.

70 x 7, and then some

2012-01-08T14:30:00.000-05:00

Normally, I do everything I can at church to avoid seeing certain people. Our church is big enough that usually this isn't really all that hard, but today at church I spotted the two women who made the big fuss that ultimately resulted in me leaving MOPS and even, what, three months? later I found myself getting all worked up again.

I really thought I had forgiven them. Moved on/through/past, whatever. But the hurt is still there, and it feels just as fresh as the day I walked out. And frankly? I'm annoyed with myself that I can't seem to just get over it. There's no purpose in trying to talk with them and "resolve" the problem, because from all I can tell, the problem is simply that I exist. And really, I'm not willing to resolve that issue for them.

I guess I'm also disappointed because after a lot of prayer and counsel of someone whose thoughts I consider both wise and valuable, I talked to the pastor of outreach at our church about my treatment. (MOPS is an outreach - if I wasn't already committed to my faith and to going to church, the way they treated me would have made me turn my back so quickly, heads would have spun. As it is, it was tempting to just walk completely away from church.) She promised that she would talk to them and get back to me at least to let me know the conversation had taken place. Have I heard back? No. So really, what we see here is that, again, the problem is simply me.

I get so tired of having to work to forgive people. That's two-fold. I hate that I have so many people in my life who I still end up circling back around and having re-forgive in the first place. And really on the other side of things, why am I so unable to just forgive and let go of the hurt? Why does their past treatment continue to plague and hurt me, forcing me back to my knees crying out to God and asking Him to help me forgive them...again?

It's frustrating. And exhausting. And it makes church a chore, which is perhaps the worst thing of all.

Books in 2012

2012-01-06T21:05:00.001-05:00

Star ratings range from none (waste of paper/electrons) to 5 (go buy this now!) + is a .5

Counting Down

2012-01-02T14:18:00.000-05:00

At this point, the due date for the new baby is in early February - giving us just about 5 weeks to get everything ready. On the one hand, I do know that as long as there are diapers, formula, and a few outfits on hand, all will be well. On the other hand, I really want the nursery finished.

We spent time during Tim's week off getting the room painted and the crib put back together. I made two wall hangings and a crib blanket. I still have curtains to sort out, another wall hanging that I want to add, and a crocheted blanket for which I have bought the yarn but can't decide on a pattern and thus haven't started. And then there's the dresser situation.

See, when the kiddo came, I bought a 3-in-1 crib and matching dresser. He used this until recently when we finally gave in re: the whole "I don't like sleeping in the double bed" issue he was having and got him pseudo-bunk beds at Ikea. That then freed up the crib to be reassembled (rather than being the head and footboard of the double bed). So, great, no new crib needed. But right now the kiddo is still using the dresser. So we're trying to decide between getting him a new dresser that goes with his bunk beds, or getting the baby a new dresser. And really, it's not a critical thing, it's just one of those things that does kind of have to happen before too long.

The only other thing left to do is choose a name, but as Tim insists on seeing the kid before settling on something, I've done as much prep there as can be done.

Rounding Up The End of the Year

2011-12-30T22:14:00.000-05:00

I've been having a bit of a mini-vacation over Christmas, as it seems good to do now and again. Tim has been home this week and we've been alternating between hanging out and getting the nursery taken care of. I'm pleased that the nursery is, in fact, nearly complete - just a few things to hang and we either need to buy the new baby a new dresser or move the dresser that matches the crib back into the nursery and buy the kiddo a new one. Either way, it's not hugely critical to do right now, so I'm not including it in the estimation of completion. Once I get everything the way I like it, I'll try to post a photo. I'm pleased with how it's shaping up.

I'm also loving having the library moved to what was the kiddo's room. It feels...cozier. And the bookshelves actually fit better as this room has 2 uninterrupted walls, whereas the previous library had only 1. What that translates to is an uninterrupted L of shelves vs. willy-nilly shelf arrangement.

If I make it the rest of the way through my current book before midnight tomorrow (I have no doubt that I will and have, in fact, already added it to the list), I'll hit 150 books for the year. I don't know if I should be embarrassed or proud. I will say that I tend not to read while the kiddo is awake, but I think about what else I could have gotten done and wonder if I need to try and read less next year. Of course, that seems a bit sacrilegious.

Once again I'll be skipping the whole resolution thing tomorrow night. Though I am pleased that I don't have to think about anything remotely related to a PhD this year. We'll call 2012 the year of finally being finished with school. I'd also love to call it the year that the kiddo finally sleeps through the night consistently. But with a new baby coming in February, I'm not sure how likely that is.

We have no plans for tomorrow night - I suspect I will attempt to convince Tim to watch a movie (shouldn't be a hard sell). We watched Underworld this week, which I had never seen, so perhaps we'll watch part 2. Or maybe Harry Potter. Or maybe both. Regardless, you get the idea of how we party around here though. On the other hand, we have to teach Sunday school the next morning, so a good night's sleep is probably a good idea anyway.

Happy New Year!

Glad Tidings of Great Joy

2011-12-23T14:21:00.002-05:00

From Luke 2:

8And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. 9An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. 11Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ[a] the Lord. 12This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

13Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
14"Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

15When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."

16So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. 17When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, 18and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. 19But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. 20The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

And this was just the beginning of the purpose of the Christ.

From John 3:
¹⁶"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son,^[f] that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. ¹⁷For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. ¹⁸Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because he has not believed in the name of God's one and only Son.^[g] ¹⁹This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. ²⁰Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed. ²¹But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what he has done has been done through God."

While we celebrate His birth, may we not forget the purpose of His coming. Have a very Merry Christmas!

On Serendipity

2011-12-20T13:42:00.001-05:00

Robbo was over talking about the Carol of the Bells earlier today. I have to say, I am a big, big fan of the Carol of the Bells -- it's not played nearly enough for my taste (honestly, with as much as I have to suffer through Blue Christmas and other terrible songs of that ilk, surely they could torment others with the Carol of the Bells a bit more, for fairness if nothing else.) Anyway, imagine my delight when this popped up in my Facebook feed.

&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;

Also, can I just add that I can't fathom how hard it is to keep a cello in tune sitting out in air cold enough to show your breath? Yikes.

Be Good For Goodness' Sake

2011-12-19T14:48:00.000-05:00

I have a number of friends who love this time of year because it allows them to get out their Elf on the Shelf. They then spend hours each night moving the thing around and having it do crazy things. This is, most often, also coupled with extreme importance being put on the fact that Santa is watching. (Here is where I wiggle my fingers, make a spooky face, and go "ooooooooo" in a fright inducing manner.)

The Elf on the Shelf, for those not in the know, is a book and doll set that come together. The doll is a 50's era creepy little elf doll that probably was used as the first model for Chucky. The idea (as I'm told is given in the accompanying book) is that the Elf (assign your own name here) watches you from the shelf and reports back to Santa if you're good or bad during the month of December.

And here's the crux of my problem. Though I guess it's two pronged.

1) We don't really do Santa. We talk about him in a generally joking manner, and when the kiddo asked me the other day (just before we went to sit on his lap) if Santa was real, I said no, but he's fun to pretend. I'm not going to lie to my kid and try to convince him that Santa is real. Because eventually he's going to figure it out and then what he's really going to learn is that mommy is more than willing to lie outrageously to him. So does he still get a gift from Santa? Yeah, he does. But he knows full well that mom and dad are Santa and that Santa is just a fun thing to pretend during Christmastime and that he's a fun way to help celebrate Jesus' birthday.

2) The Elf on the Shelf...I want my child(ren) to be good all year because it's the right thing to do and/or (when they're young) because I told them to. Not because they might not get gifts if they aren't. Not because a creepy doll is watching them. If they really need someone watching them as their motivation, then fine, be good because Jesus is watching. And He's watching all year long, every day and every night. Does he withhold gifts if you're bad? Not in the sense that kids understand, no, but I hope that I'm teaching my boy(s) well enough that they understand that making Jesus and mommy and daddy sad with their disobedience is not what they want to be doing.

At the end of the day, I want the kiddo to be good because he wants to be good. Because Jesus lives in his heart and helps him to be a good person. Not because he wants a Red Rider BB Gun with Compass in the Stock.

It's Not That I Actually Have Anything to Say

2011-12-15T20:23:00.000-05:00

I'm just feeling blog guilt. (Which, really, is awfully stupid - but whatever.)

So, some random to enlighten your day. Or night. Or whatever.

Tim has been working crazy hours the past two weeks. It groweth old. On the one hand, yay for stable employment that he loves and that loves him. But really. 6a-9p can only go on for so long.
I'm currently trying to figure out if the dates I have from our adoption attorney are an estimated due date or an actual scheduled c-section date. I'm pretty sure it's the former, based on various little tidbits of information, but that doesn't really help me help Tim explain when he needs to take vacation. Hopefully we'll get something nailed down toward the middle of January. Or sooner. Sooner is good, too.
What is it that makes a quesidilla so fantastic? Melty cheese inside a crispy flour tortilla...honestly, I think I could live on them. Other than the whole ballooning out to roughly the size of the Michelin man should I try.
I still haven't started wrapping any gifts yet. Really need to get on that. At some point.
Our church is actually having a Christmas day service (since Christmas falls on a Sunday this year). I'm torn. On the one hand, we usually do Christmas Eve service. On the other hand, I kind of feel like if they're going to do it, I ought to go. Realistically we'll just do the Eve, but I'll probably be conflicted while I cook all morning.
I'm at 130-something books for the year. I was hoping to make 150, but then my mom conned me into reading a manuscript for a friend of hers. The thing is nearly 1300 pages - so it's essentially a trilogy (or more), and I guess it kind of counts, but it's also a bit discouraging. Cause I read it and really didn't like it. I tried to make some constructive comments. But then it occurred to me, what if this is what people think when they read what I write but are too nice to tell me?
On that happy note, I think I can now consider my blog guilt assuaged and return to the previously scheduled evening activities of making a duvet cover for the kiddo's new duvet (out of two sheets - $5.50 each at WalMart. Can't beat it.)

Tis the Season, and so Forth

2011-12-13T12:58:00.000-05:00

I believe I have all of the Christmas shopping taken care of. (Well, actually I know I need to get one more gift for Tim, but I know what I want and where to get it from, so really, it's basically purchased, right?) And as I stood pushing some of the most recently delivered gifts into the gift closet I had the time to ponder...who the heck is going to wrap all this stuff?

I love getting people gifts. I love picking them out, bringing them home, and giving them to people. I despise wrapping things. (And really I'm sure most of that is due to the fact that it looks like a drunk monkey did the wrapping when all is said and done. Tim is a much better wrapper than I am.)

Most of my family doesn't wrap their gifts - the closest my mom gets is to use (and reuse) decorative boxes each year. But it just doesn't seem right to not get to rip paper off of Christmas gifts.

So the question arises...how do I con Tim into doing all the wrapping this year?

"Reality" TV

2011-12-11T20:57:00.000-05:00

I held off for so long with the whole "reality" tv thing - and then I slowly got sucked into several shows. And now? Now they're really rather rapidly spitting me right back out. See, there's always the little caveat at the end of the credits that the producers weigh in on the final decisions. And ok, fine, they want to get the best TV possible out of their show. That's their right. Except, of course, when it ends up making the best contestant get kicked off.

And no, this isn't about the X Factor. I don't watch that. Probably never will. Don't really know what's going on there.

My disenfranchisement started with Gretchen "let's make knitted panties for people to wear under transparent skirts" winning Project Runway however many pathetic seasons ago that was. It wasn't really any better with this seasons "Oh, I don't really know how to sew, but I'm pretty" winning. I'm not positive I'll watch PR again - I love Tim Gunn. I love the judges, mostly (they're entertaining, if nothing else). But other than that? The show has devolved into grade school team picking practices where the popular win, regardless of talent.

Then we hit the various cooking shows. I still watch Top Chef, though mostly on fast forward because really, at the end of the day, I just want to see the food and decide if it sounds yummy or not. I really don't care about the house drama. Next Food Network Star (or whatever they've renamed it to) has seriously jumped the shark. And with last week's Next Iron Chef elimination, I deleted my DVR timer cause I just don't care anymore.

And then we have America's Next Top Model. Definitely a fast forward watch - see the photo shoot and the challenge and the judging and you're good. Except this time, they randomly disqualified one of the final 3 with no explanation. Now, I did not like Angelea, so it wasn't a big deal to me, but I still kind of think that they owe people an explanation, not just "she got disqualified."

And now? I hate to say it, but The Amazing Race is on shaky ground with me. See, this is one where skill and sticking to it really are what get you ahead. And sure, there's the random luck. But last week, what I consider cheating ended up eliminating the best team. (And something very similar happened last season where everyone ganged up to eliminate the strong team.) If I wanted to watch scheming and back stabbing, I'd watch Survivor. The DVR is currently recording the finale, but honestly? I'm just as likely to google the winner tomorrow and call it a day. Cause I can't really stand anyone in the final 3 teams. None of them deserve to be there.

I think maybe it's time to just go back to scripted shows....if only the networks would make some that were worth watching. (And they have some, they do, they just don't get the ratings so you know they won't be around next season and really, why get attached to something that's just going to end up cancelled.)

Sew Annoyed

2011-12-07T20:13:00.000-05:00

Last year, in a fit of inspiration (brought on by the stunning prices they want to charge for clothes a child will wear for just about 6 seconds before they no longer fit), I purchased some sale priced flannel and an Easy McCalls kids pajama pattern and decided to just make some instead. Shortly after cutting out the first set and getting the majority of the shirt sewn, my sewing machine died. I got a new one for my birthday, but by then (late Feb) it was no longer really flannel pajama weather, so I tucked them away with the thought that I would just make them the next year.

So it was that I found myself pulling out the cut pieces and my new machine this weekend and whipping up the first pair of pajamas. Only to find that something was decidedly amiss. Because while the pants turned out well in the front:

The process of getting them put together (and indeed the final result) revealed that all was not well in the rear:

Because in order to get them to go together properly, I had to turn the back pieces wrong way out. To say I was annoyed is to put much too small an emphasis on my thoughts at the time.

Still, they're pajamas. For an almost-4-year-old. He isn't going to care all that much and might, in fact, find it fun that he has trains pointing in AND out. (Note: putting them on this evening, he was convinced I had them inside out. So much for the thinking it'd be fun idea.)

So I pulled out the next set of flannel and took a good look at the layout instructions, figuring that I must have done something stupid when cutting out the fabric on the first set.

What you see here is the layout guide. It shows the fabric being folded right sides (that's the patterned side that should be seen on the outside of a garment) together. Then it shows you putting the pattern pieces onto the folded fabric face up and cutting them out. I checked, rechecked, and checked one more that I was interpreting this correctly and then cut out the next set of jammies.

Which also turned out to look like really bizarre chaps for toddlers.

I explained the conundrum to my sister, who is a much better sewer than I have any hopes of becoming and she immediately said the directions made no sense but that clearly one of the pattern pieces should be flipped over. Then she went on to say that at least I got a blog post out of it. I guess there's always that.

I Know It's Been Everywhere...But Still, It's Too Fun Not to Post

2011-12-06T12:50:00.002-05:00

Pride Goeth

2011-12-05T15:36:00.000-05:00

In college I took Ancient Greek history as my history class (because I only needed one semester instead of 2, so world history wasn't necessary as it was a full year) and the main things I recall from said class were that 1) our text book was written in 1906 and very much focused on archaeological breakthroughs of the time, 2) our professor might have been the original author of said text, or at least, certainly, a contemporary (many of my classmates thought he might have, in fact, lived through the eras under discussion, so I was the kind one among us), and 3) He loved to say in deep, rolling, professorial tones (think John Houseman in the Paper Chase) "HUbris was the downfall of the Greeks."

All this has been on my mind of late because I had indulged, somewhat prematurely it seems, in a little bout of hubris myself and it has now swirled around and bitten me most firmly in the behind. (Not unlike my cousin's pet goose when I was about 8 years old. I hate geese to this day. I also have a little scar where it tore a chunk out of me. They may not have teeth, but you don't want to be on the wrong end of their beak.) You may recall the whole child will not sleep through the night unless he's in our bed debacle of 2011. (Yes, it really went on nearly a year, having started up in February.) You may also recall how we moved his room and got him a new bed and, lo and behold, he's sleeping through the night! In his own room! Let us all rejoice and sing!

Yeah, not so much.

It started innocently enough with a random wake-up before Tim and I had headed to bed. He was standing at the top of the stairs, wailing and talking about things that made no sense whatsoever. I'm not fully convinced that he's not sleepwalking. I put him back to bed and all was well for that night.

The next night, he woke up to thunder in the middle of the night. Thunder kind of warrants a free pass around here, so ok, fine.

The next night he was up because he was scared. Of what? He wasn't sure. He just knew that he was scared. I tucked him back in, prayed about sixty times, and only had to repeat once more that night.

The night after that, he just appeared, crying and scared (again, of nothing he could name) in our room, climbed into our bed, and went back to sleep.

Lather, rinse, repeat until last night. Last night as I was going to bed he comes out of his room screeching and wailing (honestly, you'd think he was in the process of being maimed, this is the level of horror he appears to be experiencing) about how he doesn't want to be alone because he's scared of the dark outside. I tried to explain that it was outside and he was safe inside and his rejoinder was that it was trying to come in. So I tucked him into our bed and spent the majority of the night wide awake as I tried to avoid falling off the edge myself, only dozing fitfully when I managed to wrest enough space on the mattress to have at least 3 of the 4 appendages actually in bed.

So now we're right back where we started, with the added wonder of: is he sleepwalking? Why is he even able to conjure the idea that the dark outside is going to try and come in and get him? (Honestly, he has a wonderful imagination - but I hate to see it take that turn while he's sleeping.) And really, what do you do? I can't see making abject terror into a discipline issue, that just doesn't seem right. At the same time, king size or no, our bed just ain't big enough for the three of us (say that in a John Wayne drawl for better effect.)

People tell me that he won't still be sleeping in our room when he goes to college. At the rate we're going right now, I'm not sure they're really correct.

Wednesday Tidbits

2011-11-30T14:44:00.000-05:00

I'm too tired to come up with something cohesive. Thus:

I was told on Sunday that the MOPS coordinator forbade anyone on steering from contacting me about why I left. So while I had just been thinking it was odd that no one had reached out, turns out that was done on purpose. So glad to be rid of that group, but honestly, what are we, twelve?
Our patio appears to be complete. Hurrah! It looks incredible (maybe I'll be motivated to go and take a picture to share with you at some point). I think it needs to cure for a few days and then get sealed before we can use it. I should check the contract, they spelled it out pretty nicely. That said, I'm looking forward to getting my doggies back. (They've been staying with my folks during the final stages of said patio install.)
Now I just need to talk Tim into a fire pit. I really think sitting out on the patio by the fire would be a little slice of heaven. He wants to screen it in. I'm not 100% sold on that yet, but also not terribly opposed. We'll see what happens.
I've gotten through P reshelved in the library (fiction - haven't touched non fiction as yet). I've noticed that L, M and R are my most common authors. I wonder if that has to do with the frequency of those letters - seems to me those are some of the more common letters. Regardless, I have 3 shelves of Ms and it's looking like I may end up with a whole bookcase of Rs. (Of course, those Ms are pretty much two authors: McCaffrey and Montgomery. And most of the Rs are Nora Roberts/JD Robb...so does that really count?)
I realized as I was shelving the Cs that I've misplaced my copy of The Hunger Games and Catching Fire. Now I may end up having to rebuy them on kindle. On the one hand, fewer dead tree books is starting to be a nice thing. On the other hand, I hate rebuying things I already own. (Though I suppose one could argue that if you can't find it, you may not actually own it any longer.)
I have successfully completed NaNoWriMo, though I didn't submit my stuff for verification, so I'm not going to get a neat little sticker for my blog. It wasn't so much about the sticker as it was just making myself actually finish something. (After all, I didn't start something new, I just added 50K to something I had already been working on.) I'm not quite finished, but the story is definitely winding down. It feels kind of nice.
Seems to me there was more I intended to add here, but it's completely vanished at this point.

Operation Turn the House Upside Down: Phase One

2011-11-28T20:53:00.000-05:00

This weekend, since Tim was off for four days of joy and glory, we decided that we'd start tackling the whole rearrange the entire (well not quite the entire, we're not leaving the master bedroom) upstairs of the house. When we asked the kiddo what color he wanted his new room to be, he said pink. I laughed. Tim tried very hard not to cry. I asked if he liked the red that it currently is and he said yes, so I asked if we could just leave it and he is in heaven. Because red is dark pink round these parts. Scratch one room of painting off my list. Woohoo!

This then made step one box up the books somehow and move the book cases. Tim had the brilliant thought that, as we traditionally spend the Friday after Thanksgiving decking our halls, we could just use the tubs that would otherwise be holding Christmas decor to hold the books. I quietly thought to myself that there was no way we had that many tubs, but it was a good start. So, Saturday morning found me up in the library pulling books off of shelves.

Step one a, though, was to weed through the books and see if there were any that needed to be on their way. I spoke firmly to myself about how books were like clothes and if they hadn't been re-read in a year, then it was time for them to go. And some of the decisions were very easy. Others were a little like playing lifeboat with a room full of good friends. I mean, sure, I hadn't cracked the cover in more than a year (sometimes more than two or three), but just holding the book I got a 60-second memory flash of the story that I so enjoyed and the people who live within those beautiful sheets of paper and then there was the twinge. Part guilt (how could I not have read this recently?), part decluttering drill sergeant (get rid of the books - you're out of shelf space!), part primal cry of pain (because really, I *need* books in my house like other people need oxygen.)

As it was, the six available tubs (you know the 25ish gallon ones, right?) held exactly one and a half book cases full of books. And that's after weeding out one and a half carry on suitcases full of books (I didn't want to use tubs to hold get rid of books, but they needed to go somewhere and we won't need the suitcases for a while, so...there you are.) Tim found more things to hold books - various boxes and so forth, but ultimately we still ended up with teetering stacks of books leaning tenaciously against one another on the floor of what will be the library.

Then came the dilemma. See, the library is moving into what was the kiddo's room. The room I worked long and hard to turn into a whimsical sky with clouds and airplanes. Using wallpaper cutouts for said clouds and airplanes. Have I ever mentioned to you how much I detest removing wallpaper? So we were standing in the now library, looking at the walls and the kiddo's bed, trying to figure out how to magically swap all the furniture, and Tim says, "You know...all the decoration basically ends a foot below the ceiling...which is about where the bookcases end, too..." I saw, immediately, where he was going with that and considered how I felt about a sky blue library with a few airplanes popping out from behind the tops of the book shelves.

As I considered, Tim disassembled the kiddo's bed (and oh, Ikea, how I love you. But really, there needs to be a way to disassemble things partially - no more of this all or nothing business.) And we played slide puzzle with furniture - bookcases out and into the hallway (one into the bathroom), reassemble the bed in the new room, slide bookcases this way and that, move the dresser. And so forth.

I have to say, sky blue library is definitely a win. Whimsical airplanes? Total bonus. Except that I need to add some sort of whimsical phrase along the top border as well now...I'm thinking: Dragons, castles, knights and kings, reading stories gives you wings. (Or something along those cheesy, rhyming lines.) Now I just need to find a good letter stencil. And reshelve all the books, of course. That should only take another year. Or two.

Talking Turkey

2011-11-22T14:26:00.000-05:00

As seems to be the case every year, I put off grocery shopping for Thanksgiving until entirely too close to the actual event. I did manage to get out there today (had planned to go yesterday, but the kiddo really needed a nap and by the time he was up, I was feeling under the weather so...we put it off.). I was mightily annoyed to see that Wegmans "fresh" turkeys were clearly frozen. Now, I don't know if they just have their case too cold, or what, but a fresh turkey is not hard as, ahem, ice. Nor does it have frost on the wrapper. So I have a partially fresh, partially frozen turkey finishing up its thaw in my fridge and all I can say is thank goodness I went today, not tomorrow when there would be no hope of it thawing.
I'm skipping the brine this year. I haven't yet found a noticeable difference between brining and basting and, frankly, I'd just as soon baste. It releases more turkey smell into the house. Though saying that, I think I need to buy a new baster because if I recall correctly, I melted my previous one last New Year's Eve. (I baste a lot, you can tell.)

I ended up having to go to two stores anyway, though, because Wegmans was also out of brussel sprouts. This disturbs me on two fronts: One, that there are enough people serving them that they ran out and Two, that I am among them. We're trying them roasted (and shredded, with Parmesan cheese!) I don't hold out high hopes, but, on the other hand, the ones that hung out under the porchetta I made last New Year's were quite tasty. So...we'll see if it's owing to the roasting or being basted by pig fat that made them delicious. I have my own theory.

The rest of the menu is fairly traditional. We'll be having Stove Top, because no matter what stuffing recipe I try, everyone clamors for the stove top. I've given up fighting it, their cornbread stuffing really is about as good as it gets. I bought just under 2 pounds of potatoes to make a small batch of mashed potatoes. The kiddo fell in love with the color of some pre-chopped butternut squash, so we'll be having that, as well. We'll also have kale chips (my dad has been wanting to try these, no idea why) and green beans for the at least two picky eaters who won't touch the sprouts or the kale and should really have some sort of vegetable touch their plate. There will also be cranberry relish. For dessert, we'll have pumpkin pie (bought at Costco because for $5, I can't make it that tasty, and really, theirs is nearly perfect) and home made pecan pie (because I double the pecan to pie ratio, making it a crunchy, nutty bit of yumminess) with homemade whipped cream. I believe Tim's mom is bringing yeast rolls as well.

I've tried to keep the portions smaller this year, so each dish is only getting a single recipe made, regardless of whether it serves 4 or 8 or whatever. There will be 11 of us sitting down, but when I plan for 11 servings of everything, we swim in leftovers until Christmas. So I'm hoping this will cut down on that. One or two days of left overs? Grand. Beyond that? We'll choke it down, but no one is happy about it.

Now I just have to figure out what, if anything, I can do ahead of time.

Overthinking Cars (Or What Happens When Your Child Gets Fixated On A Movie)

2011-11-17T15:27:00.000-05:00

So the latest movie that is on anytime I will allow it now is Cars 2. This started out as a welcome relief from the original Cars, which I'm pretty sure I could quote completely backwards. However, Cars 2 has brought up some questions that I'm not sure how to answer. Thankfully these questions have not yet come from the kiddo, but I'm expecting them at any minute.

See, in Cars 2, we travel around the world to various races and we get a chance to see other kinds of cars. The Japanese cars are all petite, for example. And it got me to wondering...in a world where there aren't people, just cars, do you get to decide what you want to be when you grow up or are you what you are based on the body type you have at manufacturing? And how did you get that body type? Do your parents choose? If, for example, Lightning McQueen and Sally go on to get married and have a baby, what will it look like? Will it be a small stock car? A small Porsche? Half and half? What if it doesn't want to be a race car? What if it decides it wants to be a tow truck like Uncle Mater? At the end of college, do cars undergo extensive reconstructive surgery to allow them to participate in their chosen career? Or, if you're born a Porsche, are you just SOL if you decide you want to be a tow truck?

Also...what happened to Doc Hudson? At the start of the movie they talk like he's gone...but how does a car die? And do they bury them or recycle their parts? (Is that similar to organ donation?)

Honestly...this movie needs to go missing sometime very soon.

A Few Photos

2011-11-16T15:41:00.000-05:00

For Eric. Because I'm nothing if not willing to seek fame and fortune.

Eric made a comment about his blog t-shirts on Facebook. And I really had intended to purchase said items and get a fun photos with us all wearing them in Alaska. But you know about intentions...so you can figure out how that worked out for me. Still, I decided I really didn't want to let him down, so I present to you...the Sleepy family in Fire Ant gear in Alaska.

Look at that, even Donald and Daisy are fans of Eric's blog! Who knew?

We also found this fashionable creature in Skagaway.

Never let it be said I don't support my fellow bloggers!

My Sister Says It's Been Too Long Since I Posted

2011-11-15T13:44:00.000-05:00

And yet, there's very little to say, in all honesty. So...random thoughts as they appear.

If you're ever tempted to make a day trip out of something that involves air travel and a 3 year old, please stop and immediately book psychiatric counseling instead.
That said, our trip that involved air travel last week actually went very well and for all the kiddo was exceedingly tired by the time we were making our last plane change, he did better than we expected on the whole thing, all things being equal.
Tim's car is now in the shop. The catalytic converter is failing. What this means to me is exactly one hyphenated word: cha-ching.
I am, essentially, still on track with my NaNoWriMo effort. Provided I get to it today. Which I plan to.
Though if I'm going to be truthful, I'm already thinking of excuses, the primary of them being that right now my head is pounding fit to lead a band and I can't think that anything I manage to come up with is going to be worth the electrons used to make the letters.
The last soccer game was on Saturday. Owing to exhaustion from the previous day's trip, we didn't go. I don't think the kiddo even realized he was supposed to have been going. Overall right now, I call this season of soccer a complete bust and have no plans for organized sports in the near future. I think he's a tad too young. This may change with the wind though, if he starts making interested noises again. We'll see what happens.
Every time I think about what I have to do to get the upstairs ready for a new baby I can see a little flashing red light and hear klaxons blaring in my head. Then I get overwhelmed and go in search of something to take my mind off it.
It's really good I don't keep chocolate in the house.

On Being the Naughty Neighbors

2011-11-10T15:31:00.000-05:00

So a little bit ago we started to think about a stamped concrete patio for under the deck (or the area of our yard I like to call "the mud pit"). We hemmed and hawed a bit, and then got a lovely little windfall of cash, which prompted us to get an estimate and sign a contract.

Upon signing the contract, I put together the little HOA packet of begging for permission to modify my house, raise its property value, make it look nicer, etc. (You know, do something that any responsible homeowner does - improve their property.) I sent it off in the mail and, about two weeks later got a request for more information because, owing to our fence, they were unable to see where the patio was going to be to make a decision.

That, as you might imagine, made me laugh. Because if they can't see where it would go in order to decide that it's ok to go there, then really, what does it matter? No one else will be able to see it either! But anyway, I snapped some photos of the mud and made a scale drawing on the plat (vs. a scale drawing on the grid paper they provide to you as part of the application) and sent it off as an addendum. I've yet to hear anything back from the HOA.

Weather permitting, the concrete people want to start tomorrow.

Here's where I begin to wonder if getting forgiveness isn't going to be easier than securing permission.

I'm hoping that perhaps the postman will bring me a letter from our dear old HOA this afternoon and then I will be able to breathe a little rule-follower's sigh of relief. But if they don't? I'm still gonna let them start tomorrow. There is no reasonable reason for them to deny the application. And as they've pointed out, they're never going to know whether it's there or not.

Living on the edge around here, living on the edge.

I'm Just Here To Make God Chuckle

2011-11-09T13:31:00.000-05:00

What is it they say, God laughs while man makes plans. Or something like that? We could go the route of "The best laid plans of mice and men..." but then I start thinking of Steinbeck and the poor little puppy that got loved to death by dear old Lennie and, well, really, who needs to think about dead puppies? After all, we know that dead puppies aren't much fun.

So there was the whole "Hey! The new bed is making progress! And he's not sleeping in our room!" Yeah. That. Well, he's still not sleeping in our room, but he's not really sleeping, either. Last night he didn't feel well, and really that's a free pass, I'll give you that, but it meant we ended up sleeping in the guest room because nothing would do but mommy sleeping with him. And, like I said, sick is free pass. But I am tired.

Then there's an upcoming trip to meet the birth mother of the baby we're hoping to adopt at the beginning of the year. The attorneys were going to meet with us, but one thing led to another and now the meeting is not at their office but at some yet-to-be-determined location and it's going to be a bit away from the office, which means that it would cost a rather large amount of money to have the attorney still facilitate (and honestly, why did I not become an attorney? I would love to charge people $200/hour for my time. Even if all I'm doing is driving to a meeting. Oh. Plus mileage, of course.) And on the one hand, I'm probably ok with not having the attorney there. But on the other hand I wonder if I'm not too sleep deprived currently to be making smart decisions. And oh yes, Tim has three phone numbers I can use to get a hold of him at work. Except he doesn't answer any of them.

Le sigh.

The whole not meeting at the same place thing has also caused me to question taking the kiddo along, except I'm guessing she will want to meet him, too (I would, were the positions reversed), so I'm thinking maybe we could suggest meeting at a park where there is a playground so that he can run and zip and not destroy something. Provided, of course, that the weather goes along with that. It is fall, after all.

Add to that the fact that I started a new class this week and, for the first time, was planning to have everyone call me Dr. Sleepy (Hey, I earned it, I'm gonna use it at least for a little while) and there are two students who have had me before who have already started things out using my first name. (And really, it's not a big deal, but no one else is going to address me as Dr., so I thought it would be fun.)

Throw in the fact that the dogs are on my very last nerve (and, oh yes, I'm tired) and you have a fairly grumpy person on the other end of this keyboard. Do they even make Calgon anymore?

Sleeping Like a Baby

2011-11-07T14:01:00.000-05:00

Daylight savings time used to be a thing of beauty - at last in the fall. I used to revel in that extra hour of languid unconsciousness. But somehow or other, the kiddo has yet to grasp the joy of an extra hour of sleep, and thus it was business as usual, regardless of what the clocks said Sunday morning. Of course, with my kiddo who seems to feel that sleep is really one of those optional activities, the business as usual came on the heels of a night of waking up every couple of hours.

Saturday, after our soccer game, I asked Tim if he wanted to go to Ikea. Now, before you question our sanity regarding Ikea on a Saturday, with his schedule lately, if we're going to go, it's unfortunately going to be on the weekend. With the new baby on the way, the upstairs is getting a fairly major overhaul. The upstairs of our house looks something like this:

This is nowhere near to scale - (and you'll probably have to click to embiggen) - because BR2 is actually the largest bedroom, while BR1 and BR3 are roughly equivalent. Also we do not have a huge hole in the wall of the Master bedroom, nor is it long and super skinny. You get the idea.

Anyway, currently, the kiddo resides in BR3. The original decision to make this the kiddo's room was based solely on the fact that BR1 houses our library and BR2 was set up as the guest room and BR3 was empty save for a few boxes that were easily and quickly moved into one of the other room's closets. At the time, we thought about moving stuff around, but we were working on a 6 week clock and didn't think that was the best use of time. Plus we are lazy.

But now, with a new kiddo on the way, we're thinking that it'd be good for them to each have their own room since we clearly have the space for that to happen. And so we are going to move the kiddo to BR1, combine the library and guest room into BR2, and put the new baby in BR3 as it's already fairly "nursery-ish" (though I did make it big boy-ish as well, if not for the new baby, the kiddo wouldn't be moving.)

In addition, we have been going back and forth about what to do crib-wise. See, I got the kiddo one of those cool 3-in-1 crib thingys, so it went from crib to toddler bed to head/foot board for a double bed. And we had moved him to the double bed in the late spring. Except that it did not, as we had hoped, solve his sleeping issue. If anything, it might have made it slightly worse. And so for the last three months, or thereabout, he has been sleeping on an air mattress in our room. And that works, except for that whole we'd really like to sleep in our room without a child present thing.

So, in discussing with the kiddo about the new baby, he said he'd like to move rooms and give his room to his brother. And Tim mentioned the idea of bunk beds, which got an incredibly positive reaction from the kiddo, and thus we found ourselves at Ikea on a Saturday. (Why is it that I'm hearing the Monty Python-esque yelling of "get on with it!" in my head?)

Long story short, while I had been on a fact finding mission, Tim and the kiddo fell in love with the Kura. And while I was content to wait a bit, Tim was gung ho, the kiddo was asking if it would be set up soon enough for him to nap in it (a very positive sign), and we loaded one up (along with several impulse items, which we seem to be unable to resist - including the Klappar Haj. Because honestly, what boy doesn't need a shark that's bigger than him?)

Saturday night, we set the kiddo up in his new bed...and it was a disaster. He was up, I don't know, nine times before we even made it to bed? And then another 4 times after we did get to bed (at around midnight). I was having trouble sleeping anyway, and after the last one at 4:30 I just gave up and went downstairs and felt sorry for myself because I'd really hoped that the new bed was finally going to fix things. And also I had indulged the delusion about the extra hour of sleep even if I knew better.

Last night did better, I'm happy to say. He slept from the time we put him down til just before 5, and Tim was getting up anyway at that point so could easily get him resettled. I'd like to say I went back to sleep, but not so much. Still, it's an improvement...fingers crossed that the trend continues. Of course, I'm sure the new baby will throw everything off again, but we could get 3 months of good sleep in the mean time, and that sounds pretty perfect to me.

The Goose is Getting Fat

2011-11-03T14:12:00.000-04:00

November always seems to signal the count down to Christmas. (Stores, of course, have been pimping Christmas since Labor Day, with fall and Halloween shoe-horned in other aisles as well.) I have been trying to do shopping throughout the year (I try to do this every year, some more successful than others) and I think, by and large, I'm close to set on the gift front. There are a few impossible to shop for people in my life who always throw a monkey wrench into things...one of these years that's what they're going to get.

But, last night since Tim ended up working late and then getting caught in horrendous traffic, a sleepy kiddo and I curled up on the couch and put in Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. I have to say I find myself identifying more and more with Hermie (the elf who wants to be a dentist) every year. But it's always quite fun to watch the kiddo watch the movie and smile as his giggle fills the house at various points throughout.

Mostly though, I'm finding my thoughts turning to menus. First Thanksgiving and then Christmas. I really wish I could get away with not doing a turkey at Thanksgiving, but I suspect Tim and my in-laws would band together to try and drum me out of the country. Still, I guess as I only have to deal with the worlds more boring bird once a year I'm doing alright. For Thanksgiving, right now, we're looking at turkey with a yet to be determined preparation, roasted brussel sprouts (my sister sent me a recipe she wants me to try), kale chips (something my dad wants me to try), StoveTop Stuffing (because every home made recipe I try gets met with significant "blah" responses and StoveTop is routinely consumed with great rejoicing, so why buck the system?), and yeast rolls (courtesy of my mother-in-law.) Then pie. Pumpkin and pecan, I'm thinking.

Christmas is another thing entirely. No one seems to have any preconceived notions of what meat ought to appear as the centerpiece of Christmas dinner, so I get to play (and avoid more turkey, thank goodness.) Usually I end up doing prime rib, but I'm thinking this year I might do a porchetta. I made this for New Year's last year and it pretty much can be summed up with the word "Yum". I haven't thought much beyond that at this point, I'm just waiting for inspiration. So we'll see what happens. But I'm already looking forward to some quality time in the kitchen experimenting.

Last Night I Had a Crazy Dream*

2011-11-02T14:12:00.000-04:00

I frequently have rather bizarre dreams, but this one stuck with me. Honestly, it was truly odd. I dreamt that we, on a whim while driving about doing various Saturday errands, decided to purchase a houseboat in Alexandria. (Are there houseboats in Alexandria? I have no idea.) This particular houseboat was unique, however, in that it was the only aquatic domicile in the otherwise normal older neighborhood like you'd find in Alexandria. Upon entering (boarding?) the home, you had a large open great room, and on the far end was a ladder that led you to the kitchen (which was a kind of a loft - open to below) and then a hall off to the 3 en suite bedrooms that composed the remainder of the home. The parking was about a half mile away down a leaf strewn dirt road that ran behind the fences of the other homes in the neighborhood. And the house's previous owner? A mix between Robbo (I know this only because his family's motivation for moving was the need for each of his girls to have their own room) and my best friend from high school who has since disappeared from contact (but as I don't think Robbo would randomly burst into scenes from Richard III and Michael most definitely would, I'm guessing it was a blend).

I was distraught at the prospect of moving, however, and spent the majority of the dream trying to figure out a way to turn the houseboat into a rental property and stay put while Tim objected that renters would surely puncture the floor and we'd end up with nothing other than a glorified swimming pool too far away to reasonably use.

Sometimes I wonder about my subconscious.

*spot the quote

Halloween Random

2011-10-31T15:31:00.000-04:00

Because I'm too excited about opening up the various bags of candy I have waiting upstairs to put together something coherent and cohesive.

We carved pumpkins last night. The largest pumpkin is sporting a very lovely picture of Tinkerbell (the doodle's request), carefully art directed by Tim. The three smaller ones are more traditional goofy faces (one vampire, one just wacky) and what was supposed to be a ghost but really just kind of looks like a big hole in the front of the pumpkin. But hey, I finished all 3 of mine before Tim finished Tink, so that has to count for something.
I think I have finally managed to get the seat to where I like it in the new van. I'm sure someone will come along and move it any minute now, but for now, I can actually get in and not feel like something is just so slightly off.
Everyone in the extended (and immediate) family appears to have caught whatever creeping crud there is to catch. Thus far (touch wood) I have escaped it - hoping that continues. (Also hoping everyone else gets well soon, but really I just don't want to catch it.)
The doodle will be dressing up as Jake (from Jake and the Neverland Pirates) this evening. I suspect it's mostly so he can have a sword.
I seriously overbought on the candy this year, so kiddos who come to our house will be getting handfuls. Of course, it's never a bad thing to be the house where you get lots of candy.
I did full sized candy bars a few years ago and was not as thrilled with that as I thought I would be - I like to just reach in and grab a big ol' handful and dump it in a container.
I had the absolute best pumpkin cheesecake for dessert at lunch today. It's good I don't live near the restaurant mom took us to after her doctor appointment cause YUM.

On Middle School

2011-10-27T14:52:00.000-04:00

Tuesday I went off to MOPS with nary a care in the world. (Well, maybe not nary a care - I'm a little stressed right now...so perhaps we'll say I was unsuspecting.) And I found myself seemingly transported back to middle school.

I mentioned some of the trouble the kiddo's been having, and so my solution (that appears to be working quite nicely) is to just focus on keeping him rather calm before any events where he has to go to overcrowded child care rooms and remind him as I drop him off to be calm, kind, and gentle. We also have a sticker chart that is a path leading us to an evening ~~in hell~~ at Chuck E Cheese. Good behavior gets stickers. (Ring that bell, Pavlov, ring that bell!)

So, the morning was going swimmingly. He was calm. We were having fun. As we went in, one of the mentor moms says hi, and I said hi. She addressed the kiddo by name and he just ignored her. (He's 3.) I asked if he was going to say hi and he shook his head. She said (with a tone of great portents of doom), "Oh, are you having a bad day?" The implication being clear that the child care workers ought to run and hide right now. I smiled and said that no, we had been having a lovely day so far.

We went on our merry way into the main room and, in an effort to keep him calm, I told the kiddo that no, he could not go and play with one of the older boys who was early because the two of them inevitably wind each other up. The other boy's mom, who I thought was a friend, looked at me and said "It's going to be ok." And I smiled, nodded, and just continued to hold the doodle's hand. He didn't fight it but he did ask again and the other mom glared like I should let him go, so I explained to her that I was just trying to keep him calm and that I knew he fed off her son's energy and would get wound up.

And then she proceeded to get very ugly in a manner reminiscent of middle school.

So I collected my things and we left. So we're finished with MOPS, and frankly, it's kind of a relief. It's always annoyed me somewhat, but I just don't get women. I keep trying to find a group of them to hang out with, and inevitably this happens. I figure it's got to be me, because I really don't think 99% of the world is the part with the problem, but I can't for the life of me figure out what the problem is. On the other hand, life is too short to spend too much time worrying about it.

A Tale of Two Mailers

2011-10-24T20:23:00.000-04:00

It's political season around these parts (probably around your area as well, but being within sneezing distance of DC seems to heat up that season a bit more than anywhere else I remember living). This means innumerable phone calls at all hours of the night from unknown callers (note to politicians: we don't answer these calls. We also don't answer calls that tell us you're political. Nor do we answer calls from phone numbers we don't recognize. So really...you could just stop calling). It also means a mailbox that is 82% political ads.

Saturday was a red letter day for said ads, with the grand total hitting 7 political mailers. Two of them caught my eye particularly.

The first is the more common breed, shown front and back below (I believe you can click to embiggerate them).

The general gist is that Chuck Colgan is running and he's a Democrat and wants to raise taxes and, therefore, we should not vote for him. But who should we vote for? Obviously the person who sent the flyer, yes? Except that nowhere does it actually say who that is, unless you use your super dooper magnification eyes and notice on the front (the top photo), just by the address (Oh, look, a squirrel!) - paid for by Tom Gordy. Apparently, then, Tom Gordy is running against Chuck Colgan and doesn't want you to vote for Colgan. He doesn't seem overly concerned with you actually voting for him, however. Because this tells me nothing about Mr. Gordy - aside from the fact that he has decided to abandon the principle we all pretty much learned at the knees of our assorted mothers: "If you don't have anything nice to say..."

Of the 7 flyers we received, 6 were of the above ilk. Only one was of the sort that will actually positively influence my voting decisions.

The front has the usual doomsaying portent of how terrible life is. (Which is not to say that things aren't hard, but both sides of the aisle are really drumming up the doom this year.) And in times like these, we need leaders. And Cleveland Anderson is that leader, the back side tells me. And then it goes on to *gasp* tell me about Mr. Anderson. Hey, novel thought! If you want me to vote for you, tell me why I should do that!

Honestly, I am so tired of the negative campaigns - but the Gordy one just made me laugh - have we gotten so absorbed in saying nasty things about our competition that we can't be bothered to remind voters why we're a better alternative? (Or heck, who we are so the voter can go and Google you to see if you're a better alternative? I don't mind doing a little leg work to figure out who to vote for, but really...I've gotta at least know your name.)

On the other hand, if I sent out something nasty about another person to every household in the county, I probably would be embarrassed to put my name on it too.

The Best Laid Plans

2011-10-20T14:09:00.000-04:00

We ended up buying a new car Monday. The shop called about the VUE and it was going to be $1,900 to fix (and there was the possibility that it might creep up a bit from there) and, well, the car was not worth much more than that. Plus it had an electrical problem that is, as of now, intermittent but we figured that was only going to get worse with time. So we called it.

The idea of nursing it along wasn't going to be particularly viable since the problem causing the noise was one of those things you don't want to be driving around in the car when it finally explodes. (Not a literal explosion, but close.) I'm not one of those really technical car people, so I can't tell you what it was - I wrote it down to tell Tim and I'm sure I sounded like I was reading a foreign language phonetically.

So when Tim got home, we swung by and picked up the condemned, called my sister and had her come over to watch the doodle and went out on a fact finding mission. Since I'd driven the Sienna, we figured we'd go ahead and drive an Odyssey and, possibly, the Mazda 5 as well. But the Mazda dealer had moved and I didn't see their new location til we were past it, plus the Honda dealer closes at 8 (which honestly seems early for a car dealer, but whatever) and it was already a quarter after 7. So we test drove an Odyssey and while I liked it, I didn't think I liked it quite as much as the Sienna. So I dragged Tim over to the Toyota dealer (which is connected by the same driveway - they apparently dislike each other greatly) and we re-drove the Sienna and agreed that, yes, it was a bit nicer than the Odyssey. I'm guessing the main reason is that with the price differentials, we could get more luxury in the Toyota for the same price as a slightly more stripped down Odyssey. But the other thing? The seats on the Toyota are much cushier - the Odyssey has seats more like an SUV (firm, less cushion). And when Tim is going to have to be in a car for more than 10 minutes, he needs cushion (I bring enough natural cushion that it's less of an issue for me).

So we considered for a bit and after a bit of discussion arrived at a price that we were happy with and they were happy with and they even gave us $1K for the VUE (we totally got the better end of that deal) and so we emptied out the VUE, said goodbye to my relatively new geek family sticker on the rear window, and drove home at about 11:30. (Why does buying a car take so stinking long?) We found a tired sister and an awake kiddo. (This sparked off the illness that has plagued him the rest of this week - I'm guessing maybe he already didn't feel well.) We also found that a van does, in fact, fit into the garage. So that's good.

We also discovered that the other car was running hot, so rather than getting to bask in the joy of my new car, I got to take the other car to the shop on Tuesday while Tim took my new car off on a business trip to Baltimore (just far enough away that he stayed overnight.) The other car still isn't back, so he took my new car again today. One of these days, I'm going to get to drive the thing.

If I Admit to Being Weak, Can I Get Some Sleep?

2011-10-18T14:13:00.000-04:00

Here is the myth that everyone seems to perpetuate: once kids reach a certain age/weight/whatever, they will sleep through the night.

I am here to tell you that this is a lie. A mean spirited, evil lie devised for the sole purpose of making you feel better when you're getting up so often in the middle of the night that you're pretty sure you pass yourself in the hallway. For a while, it makes you feel better. Right up until you realize that your child is the exception to the rule.

In our 3.5 years as parents, I think we had one six-month stretch of sleeping through the night. At about age 2.

We've tried the spectrum of ideas ranging from low key bribes to bribes that would make even a corrupt politician begin to question their ethics. We've tried redirection (as in just putting him back to sleep over and over and over and over and over and over.) We've tried low key punishment to punishment that would make a prison warden chuckle with glee (well, ok, maybe not quite that extreme). We've tried night lights, dark rooms, light rooms, noise machines, hall lights, door open, door shut, door cracked. Nothing works. Nothing will get this darling, wonderful, amazing little boy to get into his bed and stay there, asleep, until the morning.

For a while we won the battle of at least keeping him in bed. But then we would hear "Mooooommmmyyyyyy!" shouted at various decibels with various degrees of terror (real or imagined) interspersed three to eleventy one times a night. So we put a bed on the floor in our room and said that if he woke up scared, he could just come sleep in there, just don't wake us up. And that worked for...three days? Then he wanted to just be put to bed in that bed (and frankly, since he was ending up there every night, we figured if we put him to bed in that bed, then maybe he'd at least sleep all night!)

Have read "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie?"

Now, we put him to bed in his little bed and by the time we head up to bed, he has moved himself and the approximately 19 billion "friends" he sleeps with into our bed. Sometimes he's asleep. Sometimes he's laying there and you can simply tell that he hasn't been to sleep yet, even though he got put to bed at 8 and it's now 11 or thereabout. So we move him back to his little bed in our room and go to bed. Most nights he stays there, other nights you wake up to find he's wormed his way back into our bed and is now practicing various kickboxing moves on your kidneys while simultaneously experimenting with various choke holds.

We're sleep deprived, here in Wit's End.

So today, I think I am drawing a line in the sand. He is going back to his room. I started this with his nap, which is taking place in his bed (in his room). Even though, yes, I have relocated him five times already in the last hour. He is not happy. That makes two of us.

Like A Black Fly in Your Chardonnay

2011-10-17T14:21:00.000-04:00

Last week was a bit of a flurry of trying to decide between a patio under the deck (so that the enormous mud pit that has only turned into an even larger, muddier pit with all the rain this year, might go away) and a new car. After hemming and hawing a bit, we decided that, really, the VUE wasn't in bad shape. It was still doing fine. So we would nurse it along a bit longer. And so I made the down payment on our patio, now scheduled to be installed the 2nd week of November.

I'm very excited about this patio.

Tim called this morning to tell me that the VUE is making a noise that he suspects is the alternator. And it's not the noise the alternator is *supposed* to be making.

So after a few calls (to the dealer and to my sister for help with transport), the doodle and I hopped into the convertible, drove the commuter lot with my sister, then she drove the VUE to the dealer following behind me. I've yet to hear from them, but you could practically hear the cash register as I described the problem to the very nice service man.

And thus it was that we found ourselves test driving a Sienna. (My sister isn't always the very best influence on me - she totally twisted my arm into doing this. Or, well, she suggested it. I didn't really fight all that hard.) Gosh it's a nice car (and ever so slightly less expensive than the Honda, and, well, Tim's always been a Toyota guy, so he's much more likely to go for that in the first place.)

We've yet to hear from the VUE folks. And who knows, it may end up being less expensive than I'm imagining (ha!), but the way things are looking I may end up with a patio and a new car and a rather annoyed Tim.

Lampworking Fun

2011-10-13T13:48:00.001-04:00

On Sunday, my sister and I played hooky from church and headed off to an introduction to lampwork class that we got through Groupon. Basically it's half of their usually 2-day intro course (the 1st day, clearly) to get people more interested in taking further classes. But for $70, it seemed like a nice way to spend 6 hours and get to try something that has always been fascinating to me.

We got there and found a group of about 12 (a full room), each station had its own torch and a box of tools. The first thing you learn is how to turn on the torch. As the mother of a boy, this is something I will never forget, because the acronym is POOP. (Propane Oxygen / Oxygen Propane) For turning it on, you PO, to turn off, you OP. Simple, easy, and something my son likes to run around chanting. (What is it with that Y chromosome?)

So you spend a little time turning your torch off and on and then you get basic instruction on how to hold your mandrel (not to be confused with a mandrill). The mandrel is a long, thin rod around which you wrap your molten glass - so it forms the hole in your bead (or whatever you're making, but generally, it's a bead of some sort.) They have various thicknesses, depending on how large a hole you want to have. The end you wrap the glass around is coated with a compound that keeps the glass from sticking to it (so that your mandrel doesn't become a permanent part of the bead). The key is that the mandrel has to be continually spinning while the glass is molten, otherwise gravity takes over and your beads are more like teardrops (or worse). It's trickier than you think, since you've also got to keep it level perpendicular to your body. They suggest that you spin the mandrel with your non-dominant hand and melt your glass and wrap said molten glass with your dominant hand. For whatever reason, doing it exactly the opposite of that was much better for me. (I have enough dexterity to collect a gather of molten glass and wrap it with my left hand, not enough dexterity in the left hand to keep anything resembling a constant, easy spin going.)

Once you've got the hang of spinning your mandrel in the flame, you get to practice with simple beads (a single wrap of one color - basically you're just practicing getting a good enough gather of glass and trying to get a reasonable shape out of things.) Here were the results of this practice:

Nothing terribly earth shaking in there - though the aqua ones turned out nicely. I also like the light blue with red stripe (I was getting fancy with that one, adding a second color - it was the last practice bead I made.) None of these got fired, so they may break pretty easily, but they also may not. I figured it was worth keeping them, they're kind of pretty.

Then we learned some more techniques, such as adding additional gathers, making dots and swirls and barrels (vs. round beads, a longer more barrel-like bead) and so forth. Such as these:

Some of these I'm very pleased with (the red white and blue is probably my favorite (far left) the light blue on the far right is fun and bumpy and I like it as well. These I actually did fire, so they're all official and everything.

The instructor said they're working on finding a time that we could take the 2nd half of the class if we're interested - and then we'd be eligible to do go to open lamp times at the studio. If I can make it work with the schedule, I'll definitely go to the 2nd class. It was lots of fun and it'd be fun to be able to go to open lamp and play some more.

Tuesday Tidbits

2011-10-11T14:17:00.000-04:00

Alternately Titled: I've Got Nothing

I signed up for NaNo yesterday. The plan is to finish the novel that has been periodically worked on over the last year. I really like this one. I've actually done some rereading and hey! It doesn't suck. So it's probably actually worth finishing. Then what? Not sure. But step one is certainly to finish it.
We'll see if that actually ends up happening or if I manage to talk myself out of it again (really, it's amazing how easily I convince myself that things I write are terrible. I should find myself a critique group that is not just my family - cause when my sister tells me something is good I kind of figure she has to say that, even though I know she wouldn't say it if she didn't think it. But, well...there's probably several years of therapy in there, and I wasn't planning on posting for the rest of the day.)
I think the whole mess at church is on its way to being resolved in a positive manner. I did get an apology as well. So that's lovely. We'll just cross our fingers that things continue on this course.
I'm loving the return of the fall weather (we had a little heat spell there for a few days.) Also loving all the pumpkin flavored things cropping up. Why is pumpkin only used in the fall? (I mean, I get that this is when pumpkins are grown and therefore ripe, but we import other fruit/veggies out of their season, why not pumpkin?)
The Saturn is leaking coolant again. Given that we have been pretty sure that it was going to be the one replaced sooner than later, I'm thinking we should just make it sooner and not sink more money into it. Tim sees the theory but is grumbling somewhat about the idea (he has a thing about spending large quantities of money. I do too, but sometimes purchases must be made.)
I went to a lampworking class on Sunday. I intend to make a whole post about that soon, but wanted to wait until I had my beads to show you. I can go pick them up on Thursday (based on hours they're open, not kiln times. They're probably ready now, but the place is only open Wednesday - Saturday. And I'm going to be up that way Thursday anyway, so figured I'd not make a special trip tomorrow just to get my beads. Though I might. We'll see.)

On Labels

2011-10-10T13:46:00.000-04:00

My son is what I consider a pretty typical boy. He is, perhaps, a bit more active than average, but still well within what I consider normal levels of activity for a 3.5 year old boy. He also has the attention span and willfulness that I consider pretty typical for this age.

Our church does Awana - which is a Bible memory program (essentially, there's more, but that's the heart of it), and the youngest kiddos that actually do memory verses are the Cubbies - and they start at 3 years old. So this year he's been able to participate. I signed him up over the summer when they started asking parents to do so. Nine other parents also signed up their Cubbies. Twenty-nine other parents just showed up with a Cubbies aged kid on the first night.

As you might imagine, the Cubbies room is understaffed.

This amped up my son quite a bit and, when I had to go pick him up last week before it was over, they indicated they weren't able to get him to settle down. Honestly? I was surprised they didn't have more of this sort of problem...38 3 and 4 year olds and 2 teachers? And hey, maybe they did. But I know he was the only one sent home.

Last night after Awana, they sent home paperwork to enroll him in "special needs" (even though there was only the one incident - he was perfect last night). I don't believe I can accurately describe how utterly livid I am. Turns out, they also had one of the parents who is a special education teacher come to observe him. Without my permission or even knowledge.

I sent off an email to the children's minister explaining that if this was their course of action I would either come and sit with him for the whole time or pull him from the program. It's their choice. But he's not got special needs - he's just an active little boy. Not hyperactive. Not ADHD. Not autistic. Not Asbergers. Not anything on any sort of spectrum. Is he too much for the parent/child ratio they have, maybe. But I don't think sticking a label on him is the right way to fix the problem. It boggles my mind how quickly people seem to want to slap a label on kids today - but it's not going to happen to my child.

Welcome To My Soapbox

2011-10-06T14:03:00.000-04:00

I was sad to realize that Steve Jobs passed away yesterday - he definitely did some very cool things for technology as we know it. I was, however, surprised and delighted to see that he had been adopted as an infant. That said, the news coverage, as well as other folks here there and everywhere have been stepping on my pet peeve rather hard and I'm going to take a moment here to educate / vent my spleen.

First, a caveat: I am not one for PC lingo. Honestly, this is not a big deal to me, in general (though I do draw a line at racial slurs, that's not PC, that's just simply being mean and ignorant). So to me, this is not a matter of being PC. It's a matter of respect - for the birth parents, the adoptee, and the adoptive parents.

Adopted kids were not "given up" for adoption. They were placed. To say a child was "given up" relegates them to the status of a toy or item of clothing that you dump in a donation bin during Lent because you're giving it up. It belittles the difficulty of the decision on the part of the amazing birth parents who chose to do it (regardless of how much choice they felt they had - even if they were coerced by their parents or society at large or whatever, this child wasn't trash that they got rid of.) It belittles the child to say that they could so easily be "given up", rather than lovingly placed in a home that could provide what the birth parents felt they could not.

Second, since I'm on my box, please remember that adopted kids (adults, teens, what have you) were adopted. They are not adopted, as if it's some kind of visible skin condition that should be whispered behind closed doors. It was a one time thing in their life. Does it have far reaching impact? Absolutely. Can it be painful? Absolutely. But it's not something that should define who they are as in, there's Jeremiah, he's adopted. That has nothing to do with the price of eggs. We don't say "There's Jeremiah, he was born to his biological parents after 12 hours of unmedicated labor." so why would we mention adoption unless it was a relevant part of the conversation?

Adoptive parents work hard to try and help their children recognize and respect their roots while instilling a sense of belonging and place within their forever family. Thoughtless language can undo that more easily than you might imagine.

I Live To Make Tim Laugh

2011-10-03T20:45:00.000-04:00

So, with the impending birth of a second child coupled with our cars both approaching 10 years of life and being well over 100K miles, I've started browsing the various options of what's out there in cars these days. Tim gets no end of glee from watching me studiously looking at car websites and building out various models. Honestly, he doesn't care - a car needs at least 4 tires and 2 doors and enough oomph to get him from here to there. I, on the other hand, really enjoy researching cars.

The dilemma this go-round is boiling down to gas mileage (because I really don't think gas prices are going to dip below $3 a gallon any time in, oh, the next millennium) vs. seating a family of four and either kid's friends or two rather large collies.

On our recent trip, we took a number of taxis and two of them were Prius taxis - and those two held us and our luggage (particularly the luggage) more comfortably than any of the regular big sedan taxis. So the Prius seems like a reasonable thought. This is especially reasonable as I actually drive most of my miles around town, where a hybrid actually makes sense. But (and it's a rather large but) it would hold the 4 of us, certainly, but no kid friends and definitely no collies. For all that it held our luggage, I just don't think we can squish even one collie in the hatch back trunk area. Now, if we keep the VUE (meaning it's the car that is still alive the longest), then realistically, toting the collies is less of an issue as we can take them places in the VUE. But if we're going to be realistic, it's not likely that the VUE (vs the Toyta) is going to be the car that hangs in long enough. I hate to slam Saturn, but, well, this one was after GM reabsorbed them. And that should be enough said.

On the flip side, a minivan (for all that I just really don't want to be a minivan mom) would handle kids, kid friends and probably the dogs all at the same time. But 1) it's a minivan and 2) if I'm going to be a minivan mom? I want an Odyssey. (Say it with me now, "Cha-ching!") And we ought to go ahead and throw 3) in there -- gas mileage on a minivan is not exactly in the realm of "fuel efficient". I don't even think it gets to "not unreasonably bad."

So, poking around a little, I found the Highlander hybrid. This seems to possibly straddle the lines (seats 7, or could hold 4 + dogs, etc.) and gets 28 mpg...which I'll grant you is not the 50+ of the Prius, but it's also not the 20 on a really good day of a minivan.

We're probably a ways off from having to make any kind of decision, but honestly I just don't know which side of the equation to fall on. And so Tim will have many giggles ahead, I'm guessing, as I continue to fiddle with my options.

Because I'm Overwhelmed

2011-09-30T15:06:00.000-04:00

And feeling guilty about not having posted anything really this week (and ok, fine, who feels guilty about not blogging? Apparently I do. Why? No idea. Other than I'm overwhelmed in general right now and so everything is doing this massive pile on of guilt.)

Things I intended to blog about in more detail but will now reduce to bullet points:

Who on earth approved the OK Go! version of the Muppets theme song? Jim Henson is probably spinning so fast in his grave that he could power a small third world nation. Yes, the Muppets were in the 70s. No, you did not have to be high to enjoy them. Still, the new theme song? Totally makes it sound like the Muppets are something only stoners enjoy.
Speaking of ruining childhood memories, are they really redoing Footloose? It was a good movie, sure, but does it really need an update? What are they changing, exactly? Is everyone going to do that stupid new version of, essentially, the electric slide - the one with all the clapping in it? Bah. What's next - Ferris Bueller?
Yes, I realize that I now need to say something like "Get off my lawn." I'm ok with that.
Speaking of my lawn, we really need to look into doing something about the mud pit under the deck. Either that or I need to figure a way to just give up on all pretense of having a clean house, cause mud pit + big dogs + digging dogs + small child = mud all over my floor all the damn time.
Yes, that's right. I said damn.
I did mention I'm overwhelmed, right?
I need to find some good books to read. I've been sifting through entirely too many free books for Kindle. And these particular books make it clear why they're free. Honestly, my dogs could write better than some of these authors. Sometimes you really do get what you pay for.
I found a nice frame for my diploma (that finally showed up), now I just need to frame the thing and then rearrange my diploma wall. Maybe if I'm feeling it, I'll snap a photo to share with the 2.2 of you.
It should probably say "our" diploma wall - Tim does have diplomas up there as well, after all.
There was more, but I've now forgotten what it was. Clearly it was scintillating.

As you were.

Doing Swimmingly

2011-09-26T21:57:00.000-04:00

We had our 3rd lesson with a private swimming school today and I'm already feeling like it's worth the extra money. After 3 intense 2 week sessions (4 days a week) at the rec center, the doodle would periodically allow his upper lip to go under the water while making bubbles. If he did accidentally manage to submerge his face, he would emerge shrieking as if life, as we knew it, had ceased. I was reasonably pleased with this progress, thinking it was about what I could expect...until now.

Today, the teacher had him taking a breath, going completely under the water, swimming (she guided him, but he scooped and kicked) for 7 seconds, coming up to take another breath and then repeat. And he loved it. (Honestly, that's the biggest thing - she's made swimming as much fun as being in the water. Cause he loved being in the water, but never wanted to actually swim.) He will, periodically, go completely under during the course of the lesson and he now knows how to pop back up. Plus, every time his mouth hits the water, he is making bubbles (and therefore not sucking water in). I'm so incredibly pleased.

My goal is to have him reasonably water proof by the time summer swings back around. The way things are progressing, I think this is definitely achievable.

How Do People Go To Concerts These Days?

2011-09-24T15:09:00.000-04:00

I just realized that DuranDuran is going to be close enough to go see (and Neon Trees are opening - I love them both) in October. Tickets are actually still available...but they're $162 each. Honestly, who can afford that?

I guess I'll just play both CDs back to back that night and dream of the days when the really expensive tickets were $50.

Needs Improvement

2011-09-24T15:04:00.000-04:00

So today, because it's been a while since we had a good deep scrub of the house, I embarked on this while Tim and the kiddo played in/cleaned up the playroom. Five hours later as I was doing the last little bit of mopping, the following conversation ensued between the doodle and me:
Him: "Who's coming over?"
Me: "No one."
Him: "But are we having a party?"
Me: "No."
Him: "Is it poker night?"
Me: "No."
Him: "But you mopped...?"
Me: "Yes, sometimes we just clean because things need cleaning."
Him: *thoughtful silence*

Now, I never claimed to be one of those Good Housekeeping Seal people. I like organized and neat, but am less concerned with the general antiseptic nature of the house on a routine basis. That said...I guess I need to step it up just a tad if mopping makes the kiddo think we're having a party.

There Ought to be Something To Say

2011-09-23T13:56:00.000-04:00

But my mind is filled only with randomness...so, here for your viewing pleasure (?):

I really had been trying to convince the kiddo that he wanted to be Agent P for Halloween. This way I could make Tim dress up like Doofenschmirtz to walk him around the neighborhood. It would've rocked. But the kiddo is desperate to be a pirate. Jake, from the Neverland Pirates, to be exact. You know, the main character of a show I really dislike and pretty much never let him watch? Yeah, that one. I think daddy lets him watch it.
I finished my PhD in July. My degree was conferred 8/31 (because it's always the next month, I guess, at our school). I have yet to receive my diploma. Seriously...how long does it take to make and mail a diploma?
Everyone seems to be up in arms about the Facebook changes. Honestly, I don't care for the new format but I just can't work up the energy to get my knickers in a twist about them. Nor can I summon the energy to unsubscribe from all my friends - I just ignore the little ticker thing. That said, this is one reason I don't just upload pictures/whatever willy nilly to the thing. No matter what you do to your privacy settings, ultimately social networking is not designed to protect your privacy. If you're concerned about something? Don't put it online.
Happy first day of fall! I really thought the solstices were always on the 21st, but having done a quick search, I found out that I was wrong. Wrong I tell you! Though they are always in that general area of the month, so you know, close. (Just no ceremonial cigar?) Regardless, it's a soggy, overcast day. The perfect start to fall, in my mind.
I started working on a crocheted cowl thingy for the winter. The kiddo saw it and was curious, so I explained what I was doing and he said, "Will you make me a scarf for the winter? One that matches blue blankie?" (Blue blankie is the blanket I made for him as a baby). How can you not melt and agree to do just that. I think I can even incorporate the pattern from blankie into the scarf. If it turns out, I'll post a picture.
He is much happier about the idea of a baby brother these days. So that's lovely. Now I just have to figure out how impatient to start rearranging the rooms I can get. I'm ready to do it now. Tim would probably just as soon wait until April. (Yes, April. Yes, the baby will be born in February. No, not a typo.)
It's turning out to be a good thing that I donated all the baby stuff...I can't seem to stop wanting to buy more. (I have, so far, only picked up 3 little sleepers - but they were $2 each! You can't pass up $2 sleepers!) I also got the kiddo a big brother shirt - he keeps wanting to wear it, but it's long sleeved. Come on cold weather!
I wonder at what point the fields get so saturated from the rain today that they cancel tomorrow's soccer games.

They May Not Live To See Their Birthdays

2011-09-21T13:36:00.000-04:00

Puppies. Oh...puppies. Why did I think puppies were a good idea?

I just finished writing a $200 check (well, $218 to be exact) to the heat and air guy because he was out for our annual summer inspection (ok, yes, we're a tad behind on that - we'll do our fall inspection next month) and he found that the dogs, bless their pointy heads, had nearly chewed through one of the wires leading to the outside unit. So he fixed it and arranged it so that it's not as accessible. But honestly.

This in addition to the chewed baseboards and window sills and carpet. (On the one hand, yay, I'll need to replace the carpet a tad sooner than later. On the other hand, I want hardwood and we have been saving, but there's a lot more to save before that can happen. Especially with a new baby on the way and, oh yes, two cars that are happily climbing further and further over 100K miles every day. And really, I would rather take care of the mud pit under the deck (that oh yes, the lovely dogs DIG in at any opportunity) before dealing with anything else because that would make keeping the house clean that much easier.)

I love them. I do. But they need to be done with bad puppy behaviors sooner than later.

Book Review: The Scroll

2011-09-21T13:22:00.000-04:00

I can't get the little Amazon thingy to show up - so whatever. Anyway, The Scroll is a DaVinci Code style archaeological thriller that follows Dr. David Chambers, a biblical archaeologist who recently lost his faith, as he returns to Israel for one last dig at the behest of his friend and mentor. Once there, he embarks on a treasure hunt based on the lists on the Copper Scroll and find himself embroiled in intrigue.

While not slow, The Scroll isn't what I'd call fast-paced. There is lots of good archaeological detail that's fascinating to read - and it's woven in very well, but sometimes you get a little bogged down by the back story. The last 1/3 of the novel feels like a rush to just tie up all the lose ends, set up a sequel, and call it a day rather than concluding the story more naturally.

Even still, I'd give it a solid 3 stars (maybe 3.5) - it's entertaining and just the thing if you're looking for something in the mystery/thriller genre that actually starts with the premise that the Bible is true.

This book was given to me for review by Waterbrook Press.

Amazingly Cool

2011-09-19T21:56:00.003-04:00

It's a Boy!

2011-09-16T14:21:00.000-04:00

The doodle's initial response: Oh no. (said in a very sad voice) I wanted a baby sister.

He has since been getting used to the idea of the fun that a baby brother can be. So, fingers crossed an all that.

Me? I was good either way, but it figures that I just gave away 3 years of boy clothes.

Ice Cream is Educational

2011-09-15T14:11:00.000-04:00

Several weeks ago, a friend sent me a link to Arctic Zero ice cream because he knows I love ice cream and also that I try really hard not to eat it, because, well, it's not exactly a weight loss food. Now, I have tried the various diet ice creams out there and my general feeling is that if you're going to eat ice cream, you're better off just splurging and getting something awesome than trying to fool yourself that ice milk or ice cream product or what they label that crud actually tastes good. (With the notable exception of the Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches. Those are delicious. They are also not all that different from just eating real ice cream though.) A couple of days ago, I actually got around to ordering some of the Arctic Zero (they carry it at Whole Foods around here, just there doesn't actually happen to a Whole Foods close enough to me that I'm going to make a trek to get some. Tim can walk to one from his office, but it's still then quite a drive home and ice cream isn't known for it's ability to travel long distances with ease.) Happily Amazon carries it. (Yeah, that whole thing about ice cream traveling? I did think that, believe me. But I figured they knew what they were doing.)

Today it arrived on my doorstep. Still happily frozen solid as it was sitting under a block of dry ice. I transferred the ice cream to my freezer (without tasting it - oh the restraint!) and plotted the fun we could have with the dry ice. And so, when the kiddo finished his lunch, we got a bowl, a spoon, hot water and went to work.

First we heated up the spoon and moved it around on the dry ice, listening with glee to the squeals and squeaks that resulted. This was fun for a good 10 minutes. Then we started pouring a little water over it, dunking pieces completely and generally having a jolly old time making fog, watching is spill lazily over the side of the bowl, stirring it to make cool cloud waves, and blowing in it to make it rush around the kitchen. And we had a few discussions about the science behind it, though at 3, the idea of "gas" is hilarious on its own and he was giggling so hard at the idea of the ice farting (yes, he's a boy. All boy.) that it took a little extra explanation.

But it was great fun and educational. And now I have an excuse to eat ice cream...I'm teaching!

Commence Over-commitment...now

2011-09-14T15:04:00.000-04:00

This week, in addition to being back home (and really, it's so lovely to be back home that I don't think I can overstate it. Vacation was delightful, don't get me wrong, but home is...home), we're starting all the various thing that start back up with the start of school. And I'm realizing that we have quite a bit on our plates these days.

Sunday nights the doodle is doing AWANA at church. I did AWANA growing up and the Bible verses I memorized as part of that program are still, by and large, with me. I don't think it's ever too early to start memorizing scripture, and the AWANA program, for whatever reason, seems to really get kids motivated to do so.

Mondays we're doing swim lessons. I've opted to go the private route for now, as I was becoming less and less happy with the rec center lessons. Foremost in my disappointment was just how many kids they crammed into the pool with one instructor. Now, maybe that goes down during the school year, but in our last set of lessons, the kiddo got maybe 7 minutes of actual instruction time in a 30 minute class. The rest was waiting his turn. And I'm all about teaching him to wait his turn, don't get me wrong, but not when he's supposed to be learning to swim. So, anyway, we've started once a week swimming lessons and I'm hopeful that come next summer he'll be considerably more waterproof and I can worry about taking him swimming less. Cause the boy loves to swim. I just want him to be safe doing so.

Tuesdays we'll have MOPS (every other Tuesday - I think the 2nd and 4th Tuesdays - I have them written down). I'm doing crafts again this year (note to self: need to schedule that head examination). I do think this will be my last year doing crafts. It may be my last year on steering, not sure. Could also end up being my last year in MOPS, since if I'm not there to do something, it's not like I've made scads of friends through the process, even though I'd really hoped to do just that.

Wednesday night I teach. And that's generally when various meetings occur as well.

Thursday nights the kiddo has soccer practice. And alternating Thursdays are either get togethers for the ladies in our Sunday school class or the men of the class getting together to play poker. Then we have a game Saturday morning.

I look at that and just get a little tired. But soccer will be over at the beginning of November. And MOPS is only twice a month. So really, it'll be fine. I'm just feeling like I should be reminding myself that the word is pronounced "No." On the other hand, my mom never really learned that word either, so at least I come by it honestly.

Monday Sundries

2011-09-12T15:29:00.000-04:00

Because we're back on our schedule, even though my body is still confused about the time zone, I give you a scattershot of thoughts:

The doodle did great on the flight home until about the last 20 minutes. Then he started getting restless. By the time we had our bags and were on the shuttle to our car, he was in full out meltdown, complete with screaming and kicking feet. The shuttle driver actually pulled over to ask us to just give him what he wanted because she couldn't drive with the noise. We just apologized and tried to calm him down a little more, because honestly, who asks parents to give in to their child's tantrum? It's not like we weren't clearly already mortified enough.
Saturday the first soccer game of the season got canceled. He had missed his first practice (the 2nd was canceled as well), so we didn't mind too much, but he's really looking forward to going to practice this week.
We started individual swim lessons (once a week, year round) today. He was in heaven, the instructor is awesome, and I think this is going to be a very good thing.
We eeked by on what was in the freezer over the weekend because I hate to grocery shop on the weekends with everyone who works for a living. So today we went shopping and spent less than I expected it to total up to and now we have food in the house.
Sadly, I'm still unmotivated about making dinner. I need to figure out how to make planning meals less of an onerous task.
The home study renewal is underway, but otherwise no baby news, besides, of course, the doodle wishing very loudly for a baby sister every time he threw a penny in a fountain during the trip. If this baby isn't a girl, he's going to be very upset (though I'm hoping we'll find out sooner than later so we can try and do some prep with him.)
Speaking of that, he was very vocal about the new baby on our trip. You get considerably fewer rolled eyes and other assorted nasty faces when people assume you're expecting rather than simply overweight. I didn't bother straightening that misconception out.
I miss having ice cream available to me at any time of day.
My scale does not miss me not having ice cream available to me at any time of day.
The dogs both out grew their kennels while we were gone. We bumped Lyra up to Orion's old one and got him a new one on Saturday. Now they both go in them voluntarily during the day to snooze. I'm taking this as a good sign that they're much happier. Happy dogs are good things.
Our vet can not pronounce Lyra to save their lives - the answering machine always has a pause, then a stutter, then "Lye-ra". Really? We should have just named her Lire or Leara, I guess.
I should probably go wake his nappingness as we're coming up on 2 hours asleep and we need to be off to pick up Tim's sister at work (because her parents can't go get her because they have all kinds of work people and insurance people at the house as they got about 24" of water in their basement on Thursday.)

The End of Our Trip As We Know It

2011-09-08T23:57:00.000-04:00

Apparently I am not all that creative with titles these days as this is strikingly similar to the title from the end of our cruise...but honestly, when is REM a bad idea? (Answer: never).

Today was our last day on vacation. Tomorrow we'll hit the airport bright and early and, if all goes as planned, be home by 5 pm. (This is banking on the airport not being flooded out, a real concern given the weather there right now, but we're hopeful.) We did manage to sleep in until 7:30 (lazybones!), then loll around in the room for another hour or so before heading off for our free breakfast. Between that and the kiddo having an issue that required a return trip to the room, shower, and change of clothes, we headed out for the Seattle Center right around 9:45, arriving just as things opened at 10.

Our first stop was the Science Fiction Museum and Experience Music Project. I thought they were two separate entities, but in fact they are not, and the sci fi exhibits are right next to the music exhibits, giving you the rather odd juxtapositions of Jimmy Hendrix and Battlestar Galactica followed by Nirvana and Avatar. What is incredibly neat about the museum though is how interactive everything is. There are multitouch surfaces with coaster type things that you set on them to then get various choices of info to view/interact with. There are computers where you can design your own flora and fauna based on Avatar, and so on and so forth. There is one whole music exhibit consisting of kiosks where you can play drums, keyboards, guitars, or do mixing with interactive displays walking you from novice skills like how to hold the drum sticks to just jamming along with recorded tracks. They also have booths where you can record your own music (free to share online or buy a CD for a fairly reasonable charge.) All in all, it's very neat and kid friendly.

The only major downside of the museum is the rather snotty attitude of their security folks. The entrance we used had no signs indicating that there was to be no flash photography. That said, I don't mind being told not to use a flash, provided it's done nicely. I'm all about following the rules - you just have to tell me what they are. What I do mind is the nasty attitude that this particular person had when saying it. In the gift shop, Tim hiked the kiddo up on his shoulders to keep him from touching every last blooming thing (and potentially breaking it), only to have a guard come running to tell him that wasn't allowed. Now, again, I don't mind following your rules, but this one I kind of question the purpose of. The ceilings are all incredibly high, what exactly is the issue? But hey, if you want my 3 year old to wreck your gift shop, fine. Don't expect me to pay for it.

When we had finished every exhibit there, we decided to head across the street to McDonald's for lunch because hey, cheap food is a novelty on this trip. (Honestly, the food court yesterday was about $40 for the 3 of us - spending under $15 sounded like a really nice thing.) Sitting next to us was a man who had a big fish on his shirt, which the kiddo remarked on. This struck up a little conversation about how they were headed to Alaska this week and hopefully he'd be catching something similar. We mentioned we'd just come from there and then come to find out that they're from Harrisburg, VA. At this point we just need to sing "It's a Small World" and be done with it. Honestly, what are the chances of sitting down at a McD's in Seattle and finding people from your home state? (Only weirder would have been if they lived closer.)

After lunch we headed back to the Center to hit up the Children's Museum. I was thinking this would certainly be a fun experience for the kiddo. Except that when we got there we found it was closed for renovations and would be reopening on Saturday. To say that he was disappointed does not even come close. (I did finally find a sign though that sort of explained why everything looks as run down as it does - they're approaching the 50th anniversary of the World's Fair and are in the process of renovating/revamping everything in honor of that.) Since that was no longer an option, we headed instead for the Space Needle.

The elevator ride to the top is very fast and very fun. We walked around the observation deck both outside and in. Dealt with several major meltdowns (it was approaching 1:30 at this point). Shopped briefly at the bottom, and then, upon the start of another epic meltdown (have I mentioned that the kiddo is overtired and ready to be back home?), we headed back to the hotel. He screamed the entire way. Five blocks of letting Seattle know that he was a sad, miserable 3 year old who did not get his way. I think the term is humiliating.

So. Naptime. Sweet, glorious naptime. Tim napped as well. I attended a faculty meeting I'd thought I would have to miss.

Rested and refreshed, a much happier kiddo and his parents set out for the monorail downtown. It's a fun 3 minute ride. From there we walked down to the Pike Place Market (because honestly, can you go to Seattle and not go there?) and wandered about a bit (it smelled of fish and flowers - a not completely terrible smell, though I much preferred the flowers to the fish. Tim was simply glad that he'd taken his Allegra.) On our wander back toward the monorail, mom called to let me know that Tim's mom's house had flooded. So we called them, they have upwards of 8" of water in their basement and their entire neighborhood has been blocked off, leaving them unable to get out. His sister is stranded at work (though they finally found someone who could go pick her up) and freaking out no small amount.

We continued our wander, hit up a Starbucks (again, it's Seattle) and then decided to eat dinner at the Hard Rock (because the child was starting to whine ever so slightly and we figured he'd think it was fun. He did.) Then we wandered back to the monorail, this time managing to snag the seat next to the driver, who was incredibly awesome and let the kiddo push the horn button as we left the station. I took a little video of the ride, which I'll upload to somewhere and post here once we're home, cause it's pretty cool.

When we got off, we contemplated using our 2nd set of free Space Needle tickets (we got 2 tickets per night as part of our hotel stay), but the kiddo started to melt down again, so we caught another couple on their way to purchase tickets and gave them ours. They were rather incredulous, but grateful. It was nice to be able to make someone's day a little brighter.

Short walk back to the hotel, kiddo to bed, and now it's time to repack everything and get all set for our 4:30 wake up. I really think the whole transporter beam is a better way to travel, could someone get on that, please?

The Train! The Train!

2011-09-07T22:54:00.000-04:00

Today was another early morning (earlier, actually, than yesterday) - with the alarm going off at 5 so that we could get ready and all packed up and still make our 6:40 train. The 6:40 train that didn't actually leave until 7:10, not that I'm bitter about the extra 30 minutes sleep or anything. This time the doodle slept through all the preparations up to and including being scooped out of bed and carried down to the lobby to wait for our taxi (which literally took 40 seconds to arrive - I had just sat down in a lobby chair and *bam* there it was). He woke briefly in the taxi, then went back to snoozeland until we were at the customs desk.

The whole process of boarding the train, customs, etc. was relatively painless and before long the kiddo was asking to get dressed and wanting breakfast. So Tim and he trekked down to the food car (before we even started off down the tracks) and we were able to start the day with coffee, finally. (When you're going on effectively 4 hours of sleep due to a pounding headache, coffee is a necessity.)

The train from Vancouver to Seattle was just a beautiful as the other way had been, but we didn't take photos this go round, figuring that most likely we'd just end up with the same ones.

We arrived in Seattle around 11, got our bags and a taxi to the new hotel and arrived pretty close to noon. Our room was ready (hurrah!) so we dropped our bags and headed out in search of lunch and then the Olympic Sculpture Garden, which looked like it was just a reasonable walk from our hotel. We headed toward the Space Needle (that we can see from our room's balcony), deciding that the purported food court in the middle of Seattle Center might fit the bill. One observation about this area of Seattle is that now that tourist season is over (with school starting and so forth), everything seems to be under construction and so it all feels a little...run down. Also? Way too many panhandlers that verge on scary crazy wandering about muttering to themselves angrily. Also also? We passed by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation and the workers streaming out of the door in search of their lunches were having a spirited discussion about how much they loved their iPads. It made me chuckle.

We found non-descript food court food then continued on what should have been a relatively short walk to the sculpture garden. Instead, due to the rather cruddy nature of the free map we got from the hotel, we did 3.5 sides of the rectangle rather than .5 side that we should have taken. When we finally did arrive, the doodle demanded up please, and then promptly fell asleep. There were some lovely views of the sound, but the sculpture is all modern "art", which pretty much means (at least to us) that someone simply pulled a fast one on the community at large by using an arc welder and hammer. But the view of the water and mountains were really nice.

Since the doodle had become dead weight at this point, we hiked back to the hotel (the short way this time at least), and put him down for his nap. Tim decided that he, too, needed a nap. I rested on the couch and read. When everyone was up at 4ish, I remembered (thankfully) that I needed to teach at 9 eastern (so in about 2 hours), which changed our plans for the evening only slightly. We ended up finding pizza (the kiddo, when given his druthers these days opts for pizza, we're too tired to argue right now) and eating back in the room. I taught my class, the boys hung out in the bedroom playing on the iPad, we all hung out a bit more afterward, and now it is time for the kiddo to go to bed. We're hoping he wants to sleep in tomorrow morning too.

If I'm motivated this evening I may upload some more photos now that I have reliable Internet.

Back on Solid Ground

2011-09-06T22:50:00.000-04:00

At dinner last night, they let us know that the breakfast buffet would be closed today and that instead we would have breakfast at 7:15 in our main dining room. So we set our alarm for 6 so we could get everything ready and be completely out of the room when we left for breakfast (you had to be out of your room by 8:30). The doodle was very tired and did not wake through any of the preparations, so we finally had to drag him out of bed at 7:05. I had planned to just take him to breakfast in his jammies, but he insisted on getting dressed, so we did that and headed down.

After breakfast we found a lounge to wait in for our luggage tag to be called (we were in the purple Minnie group). The debarking process is considerably smoother than on Royal Caribbean (honestly, everything was better, but well, this in particular was much more reasonable.) They don't allow you to queue up til they call your group, and they only call your group when the previous group has completely cleared the customs process. We waited about an hour before it was our turn to file off the ship, through customs, claim our bags, and then the rest of the way out of the terminal. We caught a cab to our hotel and, wonder of wonders (it was only something like 10am) our room was actually available. So we took our stuff upstairs, packed a backpack of water bottles, and headed off on foot to Stanley Park and their aquarium.

On the way to the aquarium (once we hit the park) we saw one of several little playgrounds and stopped for a bit so the doodle could play. Then we headed onward toward the fish. Let me just say the Vancouver Aquarium is incredible. It has a rainforest area with tons of butterflies (several species I don't recall seeing before), birds, snakes, basilisks, and even a sloth and two of the crocodiles that have the name I can never pronounce (caiman? something like that). It has a whole frog exhibit with more species of frog than you would ever imagine. There are the usual fish, but then also the local fish regionally through BC (that was very cool.) We had lunch there - and they use containers that are all compostable for their cups etc., I thought that was neat. Then we got to see the dolphin show.

The dolphins they have are the Pacific White Sided dolphins - and they make a point that all of their animals (the dolphins, seals, otters, and beluga whales) are rescued, nursed back to health, but deemed unreleasable. I can't help but think this is the way to have these beautiful things in captivity - since it benefits everyone. The show is really much more based on their research into understanding the behaviors of the creature (vs. just getting them to do cool tricks), so that was fun, too.

At this point, the doodle was hitting major meltdown, so we headed back toward the hotel. When we finally got back (it was a long, hot walk - not sure why it felt so long, but we were all just beat), we put the doodle down for a short rest and Tim and I ended up falling out with him for about an hour. Tim and the kiddo headed out for pizza while I stayed in the room for office hours, and then when that was done, we walked the two blocks to Dairy Queen for some ice cream. Now we're in for the evening and revising our plans for the last few days of the trip (I actually looked into changing our tickets to just go home tomorrow, but it was going to be close to $800, which is half again what we spent to come in the first place, so we'll just tough it out and have quiet days mostly at the hotel in Seattle. The kiddo is done.) Though we all had a blast, I think we're also all ready to be home and back on some kind of schedule.

The End of the Cruise As We Know It

2011-09-06T21:32:00.000-04:00

Our last full day on board (yesterday) was spent at sea. Days at sea are pretty relaxing, though you need to be prepped with things to do if you're the type of person who gets bored easily. We took advantage of having no schedule to sleep in a bit and have a slow, leisurely breakfast. We finished eating around 10 and went to wander around. The line for the lobby princess gathering was just beginning. We had thought to skip that completely, but the doodle was determined that he wanted photos with all the princesses, so into line we got. The photos took quite a while (princesses are a big deal), but in the end we got to see five of them: Belle (our favorite - she was so wonderful), Cinderella (who looked like she had better things to be doing - she was honestly kind of obnoxious), Ariel (another really good princess who actually seemed to enjoy kids), Snow White (clearly an introvert in the wrong job), and Tiana (from the Princess and the Frog, which we have not seen, and again she did not seem all that excited about being there.) After that we toodled around the ship for a bit, then headed up for a light lunch. Only the doodle was actually hungry, so he ate and Tim and I pretty much had a small bowl of soup and then dessert. But hey, it's a cruise.

After lunch we went to the play area with the doodle for a bit and I snuck out to do some laundry (not sure how I ended up needing to do it twice, but that's what really ended up needing to happen, and since it's only $1 for a load of wash, it really was worth doing.) At the start of the cruise, laundry was easy. The last day of the cruise is not the day to try and do laundry. Everyone is trying to do laundry...and some of the machines have stopped working. Every laundrette was down at least one dryer - so while I did finally get a washer, I had to sit there with my wet laundry for about 30 minutes before I could get a dryer. Still, I did finally get a dryer and then headed back up to the room for a minute. Tim and the doodle had just gotten back there to take a quick nap so that we could head back to the play area for Belle's story time.

The story time was adorable - they started with the scene from the beginning of the movie where Belle goes to the bookshop to get her favorite book out, and then, there's Belle in her town outfit (usually around the ship she is in her yellow ball gown from the end of the movie). She has the blue story book from the movie and she starts reading her story (it's a summarized version of Beauty and the Beast). When she gets to the castle, everyone gets up and follows her to another area of the play area that's the West Wing of the castle. She reads more there, then moves everyone to another area - it was a really cute way to keep everyone engaged, even the active little ones like the doodle. When story time was over, there was a little more free play on the big pirate ship and slide, so we hung out for that, then headed back to the room for a little bit.

The kiddo was still tired, so he flopped on the couch to watch some TV (great thing about Disney ships, always something on TV that's ok for kids to watch) and Tim and I dug out the suitcases and got everything organized and repacked. Then we rested a bit as well before supper. Tim had a chicken satay, potato leek soup, and beef tenderloin. I had a spinach-artichoke-jalapeno dip instead of the satay, but otherwise the same. We had baked alaska for dessert - quite yummy.

After dinner we walked around a little before heading to the last show - Disney Dreams. This was a fun little original show that highlighted the Disney stories from Peter Pan to Cinderella to Beauty and the Beast to the Lion King - it was really well done and very entertaining. After that, it was time for bed and our last night with the sea rocking us to sleep.

Day 5 - Ketchikan, AK

2011-09-05T02:45:00.002-04:00

The first half of today was actually spent at sea as we continued working our way toward Ketchikan. This was a nice little respite from feeling like we had places to go and things to see, so we slept in (til a whopping 7:30, so it's not like we were living la vida loca or anything), lolled around in the cabin for another hour or so before taking ourselves up to the breakfast buffet. The doodle had stopped eating eggs for some reason at home recently, but he rediscovered his love for them on the cruise and today gave me permission to make him eggs when we get home. Honestly, I'm rather glad about this - not having eggs in my basket of breakfast choices for him was a pain.

After breakfast we made our way down to peruse the various character photos that we had taken the day before. Then we verified the running length of the Alaskan Lumberjack Show (our port adventure for the day) and confirmed that we would not miss out on pirate night at dinner. So we went to the store to get a few pirate accoutrements to make the evening a bit more fun. (Tim got Goofy ears on a pirate hat, the doodle got Mickey ears on a pirate hat, and I got standard mouse ears with a pink pirate bandana on them that says Pirate princess. Also I have pink and silver sparkling skull and crossbones on the ears.

Shopping complete, the boys headed to the Oceaneers Club to play (it was open for families this morning rather than just as a drop off) and I stayed out on the balcony to get caught up on my school (or try to -- thankfully it worked as I'd had such lousy Internet yesterday that I couldn't post to my class.) When I was finished, I went and joined them, but the doodle was about done. He really wanted to swim, so we suited him up and took him up to the pool. He had a ball zipping around in the Mickey pool and went down the slide a few times as well. He was probably out there for about an hour - they must keep the water pretty warm, because Tim and I both really needed our windbreakers on top of long sleeves to be comfortable watching him.

At this point it was lunch time, which we ate on the deck at the doodle's request. Then we headed back to the room for a little resting time until we docked in Ketchikan.

We headed ashore around 2 and looked around a few shops on our way to a fish ladder. We watched salmon swimming upstream to spawn (and either seals or otters getting tasty snacks in the process. I feel like I should be able to definitively identify if they were seals or otters, but honestly I have no clue. I lean toward otters, but....well, no clue. I need to google.) Then we hopped aboard the funicular, mostly because it's simply fun to say funicular but also because we didn't fancy walking up the incredibly huge number of stairs that was the alternative, and trekked to the eagle sanctuary, fish hatchery, and totem museum.

The walk was nice, but through what I would consider perhaps the less prosperous part of town (not scary or anything, just really, really run down looking with lots of condemned and half falling over houses). There were two eagles (both female) in the sanctuary - they had been rescued after falls that had broken a wing that then did not set correctly, rendering them flightless. Both are classified as un-releasable because their wings can not be fixed well enough to enable them to fly. So they have a very cozy looking aerie and seem incredibly well taken care of. The fish hatchery was surprisingly fascinating (honestly, I wasn't sure about the whole visiting of a fish hatchery - but I figured the kiddo would enjoy seeing fish. As it was, he was half interested but Tim and I were fascinated.)

They described the process of taking the salmon (they raise both King and chum salmon -- I'm sure about the King, only half sure about the second type) from roe to releasable sized fish (which is about a 2 year process). Once they're released, they are considered "wild salmon" - so that wild Alaskan salmon you eat may well be from a hatchery originally. During spawning season they have a funnel that they place across the stream to allow their fish to return back to the hatchery. They don't allow all of them to actually spawn, but they do separate out some to use for breeding stock. The rest they either freeze to feed the eagles or process for canning. Pacific salmon spawn and then die, so the fish were going to die either way - so they're making good use of the returned fish.

After that we walked across the river to the Totem Heritage Center. Honestly, I expected a bit more from this, but it was still interesting. There was a native woman making baskets in the traditional manner of weaving. She went into incredible detail about the process - I found it interesting, but the kiddo was getting more and more restless so we had to excuse ourselves and semi-rush through the rest of the museum to get him back out into open air and something more interesting to him.

We walked back into town and browsed the shops along the way to the Great Alaskan Lumberjack Show. This was about what I expected it would be and all I can really say is that if I'd known there was a free one at Grouse Mountain (well, included in the cost of admission), I wouldn't have bothered with cruise ship prices for this one. The kiddo was tired and pretty much disinterested. Tim and I enjoyed the various chopping, climbing, and log rolling competitions they did, but would have also been just fine if we'd skipped it. I don't regret going, but I don't think I'd recommend it for kids that are younger than 8 - it's just not interesting enough for their gnat-like attention span.

When the lumberjack show was done, we returned to the ship, donned our pirate duds and headed down for dinner. Tim had a mushroom and bacon tart, tomato basil soup, and aged beef tenderloin followed by a creme brulee. I had the tart, french onion soup, sea bass with mushroom risotto (super yummy), and a souffle with an orange flavored sauce.

After dinner we stood in line to get photos with Captain Hook, Stitch (dressed as a pirate), and Captain Jack Sparrow. Then we went to the show for the evening who was a man who does funny songs/parodies with his guitar. I can't recall his name and can't put my hand on the newsletter for today. Regardless, he was very amusing. The doodle made it about 3/4 of the way then asked to go to bed. Tim took him back and I stayed for the end as I was enjoying it quite a bit. Tim is getting ready for bed less his pajamas and is then heading out for the 11pm showing of the most recent Pirates of the Caribbean movie in 3D. I suspect I'll be turning out the light before much longer.

Day Four: Juneau, AK

2011-09-04T14:57:00.002-04:00

We got to sleep in some today (woo hoo - slept til 7:30!) as we didn't have any port adventures scheduled. When we did the trip planning, it looked like we could probably handle Juneau on our own, so that's what we did. After breakfast, we headed down to the dock and caught the shuttle to town as we were parked at the farther pier. Our first order of business was getting tickets on a shuttle to the Mendenhall Glacier. Handily there was one just getting ready to leave and as it's the end of the season, folks are ready to deal a bit to get your business, so the doodle was free and Tim and I got $3 off each of our round trips.

The drive to the glacier is about a half hour and you see a reasonable bit of the town as you drive through. It had been sprinkling some when we got off the ship, by the time we reached the glacier it had turned into a steady drizzle. Hoods up, we hopped off the bus and went to the stream overlook to see the Sockeye salmon that were there swimming upstream to spawn. It was really kind of cool to see - though I don't think any of the photos turned out. From there we took a more scenic path up to the visitor's center where the first item of business was to buy rain ponchos.

Armed for the weather, we toured the glacier exhibit at the visitor center then headed back out into the weather to walk the ~1 mile to a really beautiful waterfall that also took you about as close as you could get to the glacier without using a boat. We got lots of great photos here and really enjoyed the majesty of the waterfall close up. We tromped around a little more and then headed back to catch the shuttle back to town.

We had thought we might then go see the glacier gardens, but it was nearing lunch and the kiddo was hungry, so we figured we'd cruise the shopping area and find something to nibble and then see where things were. Well, by the time we'd had a snack and seen what shops were of interest, we were all pretty much soaked completely through (despite the ponchos). Tim was still game for the gardens, but I was soggy and miserable, so we called it a day and headed back to the ship at about 2 (all aboard was 4:30, so it wasn't super early, but we probably could have made the gardens if I wasn't a wuss.) The boys napped while I did some school work, then we got up and changed for our second formal dinner.

Dinner tonight was back in the Animator's Palate, though they didn't do the show as it was a Captain's Dinner theme. I had the spiced sauteed shrimp (Yum!), wild mushroom soup (double yum!), and breaded chicken with fettucini (good but not amazing). Tim had a fruit cup, the mushroom soup, and venison, which he enjoyed quite a bit. I opted for no dessert tonight as none of the options spoke to me, Tim enjoyed a lava cake.

After dinner we headed down for a few more character photos and then went off to the theater for Toy Story the Musical. This was cute, though there were some miking issues that were distracting to me (probably only to me). The costumes and technical aspects of the production were really very cool (speaks the one-time drama tech nerd) - so that was fun to notice. The doodle seemed to enjoy himself (he sat there in rapt attention the whole time), and really that's the most important thing. Then it was off to bed - and now that the kiddo is snoring quietly behind his curtain, I think it's probably time for our light to go off as well.

Day Three: Skagaway, AK

2011-09-04T14:56:00.000-04:00

This was the first of two port adventures we booked through Disney. Our meeting time was 7 am, so we set an alarm and got up, got ready, grabbed an early breakfast and some snacks for the backpack, and headed down to the meeting area. There were actually four different adventures meeting in this room, and as you checked in you got a Disney sticker to identify your group. We were the Ariel sticker, which thrilled the doodle to no end. When everyone had checked in, we all made our way out to the bus that would then take us to the train station...about 200 feet away. Honestly, by the time we all got on the bus we could have just as easily walked over to the train station, let alone throwing in the time to park and get back off the bus. I guess they thought this kept us together as a group, but we were rather incredulous.

Once we arrived at the train station we boarded the White Pass Railroad. The train cars are old-timey cars, which adds to the gold rush era feel. The narration as you go from sea level to ~2,800 feet above sea level in Fraser, BC, tells the history of the area and the gold stampede. Skagaway was the staging point for 100,000 stampeders (though only 30,000 successfully completed the trek). The Canadians wouldn't let you cross the border until you had a ton (literally, 2,000 lbs) of supplies with you - so people would have to hike the 40ish miles to the border with load after load of supplies until they had the right weight. The trail they wook was either the Chilkoot trail, which went over a mountain pass (so very steep and a high elevation) or the White Pass, which was a lower elevation but longer. The trail itself was about 18" wide - so carrying your supplies had a considerable amount of danger involved. (In fact it seemed like just about every valley had some kind of name like "Dead Horse Gulch" or "Fallen Miner Ridge" and so forth.)

The train ride was about 45 minutes. Then we stopped at the Canadian border crossing, had our passports checked, and disembarked. Then we reboarded the bus and traveled back down the way we had come, stopping at several senic points along the way while the driver regaled us with facts about the gold rush and Skagaway. We stopped at Liarsville before returning to the ship. Liarsville is a gold rush trail camp reenactment. They do a little show (song and dance type of thing), have cookies, and then show you how to pan for gold. Then we all got a pan of gold and a spot at a water trough where we could find our very own three or four flecks of genuine gold (that was, apparently, brought down from Canada to seed the dirt for us tourists to pan.) It was fun, but a bit hokey. The bus then dropped us back at the ship.

Since neither Tim or I had remembered to bring our wallets with us, we went ahead and reboarded the ship, had lunch, then hopped back off to walk the whole 8 blocks of "downtown" Skagaway. They've refurbished all of main street back to the gold rush feel (boardwalks, plank buildings -- think Wild West). And 9 out of every 10 stores is a jewelry store. Not sure exactly what the point of that is, but it seems to be the case for places that become standard cruise ship ports. (We found that in the Caribbean as well.) We wandered about and found some nice souveniers from local artists and Russia (I felt a little bad about getting Russian items, but since that seems to be a pretty common thing in Alaska, it's at least not totally out of the scope of an Alaskan souvenier.) We reboarded around 3:30 and got the doodle settled for a short nap.

I had hoped to get him up in time to see Pinocchio and Jimminy Cricket, but he woke up hard, so instead we spent 45 minutes in the cabin with him screeching and generally being an over tired 3 year old. We got him settled, finally, and made our way down to dinner. I don't remember all of what we had, though we did both have the roast pork. Tim liked it, I thought it was ok. After dinner, they were showing Cars 2 (in 3D), and the doodle had been on his best behavior during dinner to show he was able to go. So we headed that way, getting sidetracked for a few character photo ops, and thus arriving about 5 minutes after the movie started. Still, it's a very cute movie and other than simply being unable to keep the 3D glasses on his head, the doodle enjoyed it a lot (though we left about 5 minutes before the end because he leaned over and said, "Mommy, I want to go to bed. Can we leave?" I'm not going to say no to that!)

Day Two: Tracy Arm

2011-09-02T20:44:00.000-04:00

Today we actually set an alarm to ensure that we were up at the proper time because we had our character breakfast on tap for 8 am. The doodle was excited about the prospect of eating with Mickey Mouse and it took a little doing to explain that he wasn't going to sit at our table, just come by and take pictures. Still, it was very fun and we got photos with Mickey, Minnie, Pluto, Goofy, Chip, and Dale. We also got fun hats made out of napkins (I got a Minnie Bow and the doodle got a Peter Pan hat. Tim never got one, so I let him wear my Minnie Bow for a little while.)

After breakfast, the kiddo decided that he wanted to play, so we took him back up the Oceaneer Club and, after a little initial unhappiness that we couldn't stay and play with him, he decided to stay and Tim and I wandered off...only to realize that we really enjoy having him along. We spent some considerably less stressful time in the shops browsing the various sundries they have and have mentally earmarked potential purchases for ourselves and others (it was nice, in this case, to not be trying to catch things every two minutes, which is what happened the first time Mr. Grabby came along). We also wandered about on the top deck looking at the scenery. Before too much longer, we figured it was probably lunch time and went to collect the kiddo before he started making too many noises about being starving.

Lunch today was a BBQ, they had ribeyes, salmon, and chicken on the grill as well as a wide variety of sides. It was yummy, and the smell was awesome and permeated the ship for quite some time. After lunch, we made our way back up to the top deck to see if we wanted to claim some territory for the Tracy Arm narration. Somewhere between starting lunch and finishing it, it got really cold. We huddled in our jackets (and I grumbled about the temperature being considerably below what the forecasts I looked at prior to packing were figuring) and finally the kiddo said he was cold and wanted to go back to the room. We stopped on the way at the store and bought him a hooded sweatshirt (that is large enough I think it should last 2 seasons, fingers crossed), then went back to the room. We watched some of the entry into the fjords from the balcony with the narration on the TV, then we put the kiddo down for his nap and watched more (taking about a bazillion photos, because again, GORGEOUS) without the narration while he slept. The glacier at the end of the trek is just fascinating - such blue ice is really odd (but pretty). We saw a few little tail flips of some kind of animal, but it wasn't dramatic enough (or long enough duration) to really do more than go "Ooh, look!" and then it was gone before you could react further. After a while, Tim and I shut the balcony door and watched from the couch - eventually dozing off ourselves (hey, it's a vacation).

When nap time was over, we got ready for supper and headed out to get photos with some characters that were out for just such a purpose before hand. Dinner was in the Animator's Palate - the restaurant that changes from black and white to full color over the course of the meal. It's very, very cool, and kind of like having a show built into your dinner. Tim had mushroom risotto, baked potato and cheese soup, and asian marinated beef on wasabi mashed potatoes, with apple crumble for dessert. I had the risotto and soup as well, but decided to try the salmon wrapped in phillo. Bad decision on my part. It was...not delicious. I ate about two bites and decided I'd had enough other food today that it wasn't going to be an issue if I didn't eat an entree. The lemon souffle with raspberry sauce for dessert was a much happier end to the meal.

From there we headed back to the main lobby where Donald Duck and Mickey were posing for photos. Chip and Dale were one level up in the same area. The line for Donald was insane, so after a little scouting, I sent Tim and the kiddo up to Chip and Dale while I waited in the Donald line. They were back in plenty of time to get a picture with Donald as well. Then we slipped around to Goofy's line (Mickey having left shortly after we joined the Donald line) and got a photo with him, as well.

At that point it was 8:15 and we decided to give the evening's show a try. We found seats that were easily escapable if needed again and settled in for Michael Harrison, a ventrilloquist. He was hilarious - lots of terrible puns, but even the doodle was laughing for most of the show, he did a very kid friendly act, which was great.

When that was done, it was definitely time for the doodle to be in bed - and honestly, I think I'm switching off the light soon myself.

Asea with the Sleepys

2011-09-02T20:39:00.000-04:00

Our first full day aboard was a day at sea as we worked our way toward Tracy Arm, Alaska. We started with a leisurely breakfast and then the doodle expressed interest in going to play. We had taken him by the Oceaneer Club when we boarded and he was in heaven running around and sliding down the big pirate ship slide, so we figured he was going to continue to enjoy the kid activities. We went and checked him in and then he realized that we were not staying...and you'd have thought the world was ending. Now, this is a boy who usually is happy to run off to play whenever we drop him somewhere with childcare (church, etc). So we coaxed a little but didn't push it, and ultimately checked him right back out and he came wandering about the ship with us instead. We did a full tour of all the decks, seeing what there was to see, and located the laundrette closest. Since we were going to have to do laundry on the trip anyway, and because the doodle had had two accidents already (taking clothes out of rotation that I hadn't counted on being out of rotation that quickly), I decided to get a load of wash done. So we got the wash started, then went to see some of the characters who were wandering about on board. I went and switched from the washer to the dryer and then Tim and the doodle set off to wander and I went to an adult-only session to learn to draw Donald Duck. My attempt was not actually terrible and when I get home, I may just scan it in and torment you with it.The end of the drawing class coincided rather nicely with the end of the dryer, so I lugged the clothes back to our room where I met up with Tim and the doodle and, after they were put away, we headed to lunch.

After lunch, the doodle was determined to swim, so, thinking that 5 minutes of swimming out in the brisk air would be that for him, I decided to let him rather than try and talk him out of it. 40 minutes later I finally had to tell him it was time to get out and go take a nap. I guess they keep the water warm enough that if you stay submerged to your shoulders you don't notice how crazy cold it is. He also went down Mickey's slide, and thought that was great, though he didn't care to do it again.

During nap time, Tim also napped and I did some school work and read, alternating with standing out on our balcony and taking pictures of the beauty that awaits you at every vista around here. God knew what He was doing when He made Alaska. (Not that other places aren't also pretty, mind you, but I'm simply in love with the PNW and everywhere we've seen so far on our trip.)

Dinner was our first (of two) formal nights. I had to teach my class right during dinner, so Tim and the kiddo headed down, determined to try and eat slowly with the thought that I'd catch up to them when I could. The Internet access being what it is on board (read: spotty and slow), I was not expecting to be teaching my class the whole hour. As it was, it was about 16 minutes before I lost my connection and couldn't get back on, despite several repeated attempts. So I really only missed the appetizers. Tim had fried ravioli, a chilled fruit soup of some sort, NY Strip, and creme brulee. I had cream of asparagus soup, potato gnocchi with a cheesy cream sauce (they were frankly a bit disappointing, not bad, but not fabulous), and a berry strudel type thing (they had some francy French name, but honestly, it was a strudel). The doodle had pizza and a Mickey Mouse ice cream bar.

The show for the night was the Golden Mickey's Award show, and since it was going to be character driven, we decided to see if the doodle could make it. We got seats on the front row of the back section, thinking that would make it easier to leave if necessary, and settled in. The production was delightful - Disney sure knows how to put on a show (here is where everyone should insert the word "duh"). It basically was a recap/highlight of all the various Disney movies, beginning with Snow White, but it was a great mix of movie and live dancing/singing, and a fun little award show script to tie it all together. The doodle was captivated by it the entire time, despite being tired.

A few notes on the cruise itself. Tim and I pretty much have decided there is no other cruise line for us -- Disney does things so much better than Royal Caribbean did (our only other experience - and it wasn't bad, but comparing it to Disney, well, there's no comparison). First off, they actually expect kids to be around (again, duh) -- but kids who stay with their parents are not seen as these bizarre creatures, there's plenty for families to do together, you don't have to foist them off on child care unless you want to. The dining is really great as well - rather than one big dining room, there are several smaller themed dining rooms and you rotate through them, so you get to eat in a different place (your waitstaff and table number comes with you) each night. This makes dinner feel more intimate rather than the huge banquet hall effect. The food is, by and large, very good. Not Michelin star quality, but then I don't think anyone is expecting that from a cruise. What I love though is that they have good kid food that the doodle is actually eating and their portions are reasonably sized. Finally, we're loving the fact that they have a ship based cell phone network, with two phones per stateroom. This way if we want to split up, we can still get in touch to coordinate or, if the doodle actually ever manages to want to stay at the Oceaneer Club, they can get in touch with us if they need to. It's a fantastic idea.

Crusin'

2011-08-31T01:18:00.001-04:00

Not for a brusin', though that did happen, too.

This morning (hey look, I'm caught up!) we had a leisurely breakfast downstairs at the hotel. Tim made sure
that they could hold our bags after checkout and scheduled our complimentary cruise ship drop off for us. Then we headed back upstairs to our room to hang out, relax, repack, and generally just chill until check out at 11. After stowing our bags at the Bell Station, we headed out to the post office where we mailed some post cards. The postal lady was very nice and even let the kiddo put the stamps on the post cards (not all postal workers will do this). Then we wandered around a bit, stopping by the Canuk stadium (it was near the hotel) and then making our way to A&W for lunch. (They have lots of A&W restaurants in Canada - they're nearly as visible as McDonald's. I can't think when the last time I saw an actual A&W at home was.)

Then we headed back to the hotel to reclaim our bags and catch the shuttle. There was another family also heading for the Disney cruise (amusingly they are four or five staterooms down from us, what are the chances?) This family, however, does not believe in the minimal packing that both Tim and I were raised with. We had 4 bags: two suitcases, and two carry ons (one backpack, one laptop sized bag). They had approximately 14 bags, the smallest of which were carry on roller bag (you know the ones, you can pack for a week in them if you try) size. The shuttle driver played a rather impressive game of bag Tetris and managed to only have to put one bag up front (it was, apparently, a carseat wrapped in a black plastic trash bag. Yet another reason to not have been lugging the thing around). The trip to the ship was very fast and unloading considerably smoother than getting everything into the van in the first place. We grabbed our carry ons and Tim set his timer.

When we cruised last year on Royal Caribbean out of Norfolk, it took us close to 4 hours to get from drop off to on board when all was said and done. Now some of that was because we had to park cars, but that was maybe only an hour. So let's call it 3 hours from curb to ship. And those hours were a disorganized pain in the rear. Disney, on the other hand, was a 35 minute process of incredibly streamlined and smooth sailing from point A to B to C to get on the ship. I attribute a large part of this to the fact that when you do your online check in, you choose a boarding time slot. So everyone isn't arriving en masse, and they actually control how many people are coming at any one time and they have the staff available to handle the crowds. So we quickly went from customs to check in to kiddo check in to picture with Minnie Mouse to on board.

Once aboard, we wandered about a little, stopped by the Oceaneer Club (where the doodle can go play as much or as little as he desires), and then our room was ready. So we headed to the cabin - and here is again where Disney wins over RC -- the cabin actually looks like the picture in the brochure! (Imagine that.) The doodle's bed is the sofa, but it does a fun little flip over into a twin sized bed (so you're not just sleeping on a
futon type thing, it's an honest to goodness twin mattress stowed in the underside of the couch seat) and the
Navigator's Balcony has a compass and other fun little gizmos to play with, should you so desire. And, get
this, the toilet (with sink) is separate from the tub/shower (with sink!) so a family of 3 or 4 can actually
get ready in a reasonable amount of time.

As we explored the room, the kiddo got excited and forgot about the big sill you have to step over to get onto
the balcony. He then of course managed to whack himself well enough that he bit his lip and has a bruise under his eye. He's all boy, that one. (After a few minutes of crying he was fine and wanting to go back out on the balcony, so all is well.)

Tim was able to get our dinner seating switched from 8:15 to 5:45, which I think will be much better, all things being equal. We were going to try and make it work, but really, keeping us and the doodle sane during a
late dinner is something I'd just as soon not try and tackle. We ate in the Parrot Cay dining room this evening (that's another thing I think will be fun, you rotate around the various dining rooms each night). Tim had a tomato mozzerella salad (with yellow heirloom tomato), then cold mango cream soup, followed by a mixed grill containing lamb, filet, bacon wrapped sausage, and shrimp on a bed of mashed potatoes with asparagus. For dessert he had a trio of bite sized samples including creme brulee cheesecake, lemon meringue pie, and a chocolate cake. I had seared ahi tuna, cream of asparagus soup, grilled ribeye with twice baked potato and corn on the cob, and a french toast banana bread cake with coconut ice cream (honestly, it tasted like German chocolate cake with a hint of banana - it was awesome). The doodle had watermelon and mac and cheese with fries and corn and broccoli, followed by a Mickey Mouse shaped ice cream bar.

After dinner, I had to rush back to the room to do office hours (working on this trip is going to bite. I thought it wouldn't be too bad, but I'm already going to have to basically miss dinner tomorrow to do seminar
because we're 3 hours behind). Tim and the kiddo came back as well, we gave him a bath and let him run around and play for a bit before finally tucking him in for the night. Now we're flopped on our bed relaxing and considering another earlyish night.

Grouse Mountain

2011-08-31T01:14:00.000-04:00

I imagine the title being sung to the tune of Rock Lobster, but you can do as you will with it. After we finished at the Capilano Suspension Bridge we got directions to take the public bus up to Grouse Mountain (which is conveniently located on the same road as the bridge, which was one of the factors in me thinking it would be a fun addition to our visit. For the very reasonable cost of $2.50 each (Canadian, obviously. And adults only - under 5 ride transit free) we were able to take the bus (the stop was across the street and then maybe 50 feet up the hill) all the way to Grouse Mountain - maybe a 15 minute ride. Once there, we purchased general admission (again just the adults -- seriously, sightseeing with a 3 year old rocks. More often than not, he's been free. On the other hand, we're reasonably sure that he's not actually going to remember much of this, but we'll have pictures to prove he was there.) and got on the tram up to the lodge area on the mountain. (During the winter, it's a ski resort.)

The tram reminded me of the tram up the Matterhorn that we took when my folks took us to Switzerland (and
other various European countries) in middle school. Mentioning this to Tim, he pointed to the plaque above the windows at the front of the tram that indicated it was Swiss made. Guess that's why it seemed so familiar. I will say, they packed it full. There was very little possibility of falling over when you got to the two towers (which cause a distinct rocking) because you simply couldn't move. It reminded me of the Orange line on the Metro at rush hour.

Once we got to the top, we took a pass on the informational movie (would have loved it, but, well, 3 year old), and started wandering up the mountain to see what we could see. There were lots of really nicely done
wood carvings, and the doodle wanted his photo taken with each. At this point, we realized we were nursing the camera battery along - so you could take photo or two, then you needed to turn it off for a bit and then you could take another photo or two, and so on and so forth. This made all the carving poses rather amusing.
Still, I think his favorite was the one of the grubs and bugs (go figure - though really, one has to wonder *why* someone felt the need to make said wood carving.)

They were just about to start a lumberjack show, but as we've paid for a lumberjack show excursion on the
cruise, we decided to skip that and instead headed to the bear enclosure where they said they have two grizzlies. We walked all the way around the thing looking for said bears and had just basically decided they
were having us on, when as we got back to the lumberjack show area, there was one of the bears just happily
munching away right at the front of the enclosure. He (She? No idea, we didn't get that friendly) didn't seem
phased by the throng that amassed rather quickly upon his emergence and just placidly ate grass. On the one
hand, it was cool to get photos. On the other hand, it makes me a little sad that it's clearly no longer a wild animal. (Not that I want to hop into the pen with it, mind you, just that it's used to people.)

At that point, we decided to see if the doodle was tall enough to ride the ski lift to the tippy top of the mountain. He was, so we did. It was a delightful ride up because we went through some clouds (we'd gone
through even more on the tram ride initially) and got some incredible vistas of mountain tops with a layer of
clouds like whipped cream surrounding them. the top of the mountain has several of the ziplines (Tim was
annoyed that I hadn't included them as options, but the doodle was too little and I didn't want to miss out
either, so we'll have to come back when he's old enough and go) as well as an enormous wind turbine. It wasn't moving at the time we were up there, but it was very cool to look at. It was an additional fee to go up in, and given the cloud cover we didn't think there would be much more to see from the extra height, so we skipped that and went back down on the ski lift.

We got back to the main area just in time for the birds of prey show (Grouse Mountain is a wild life refuge - thus the bears, wolves, and birds of prey. We didn't get to the wolf enclosure because the kiddo decided he
was too scared.) I thought it was neat that the birds they used in the show are not resuces or rehabbed birds
but instead birds that are hatched solely for that purpose. Just seems to me that's much more fair for the
animal to not know freedom vs. having had it and then ending up a show bird. They started with a non-native to the British Columbia area, the Hudson Hawk. I have decided I need one as a pet as it is one of the few natural predators of the diamond back rattlesnake. (And really, if it can win against a diamondback, it should be good for any other snake varietal).

Next up was the horned owl - a native to the area and incredibly cool to see up close. It was fun because this
one, though grown, still made baby owl noises. The trainers said this is because they had been the ones to
raise it, so it thought of them as his mom and dad, and so would always call to them like that. The other
interesting fact was that the owl's skull is about the size of a tennis ball and their eyes take up 2/3 of
that, so the idea of a "wise old owl" is really not a good one as there's very little room left for brain.

Then came the turkey vulture - several cool things about them that I did not know (and really, this one caught
the attention of the doodle, because the cool things are very little boy cool). First, its head has no feathers because that allows it to stick its entire head into the carcass (so as to reach the tasty bits) without getting messy. The gunk just dries and falls off rather than being matted into feathers. The other fascinating (and repulsive) fact is how they defend themselves...they projectile vomit. We seriously need a superhero whose special power is projectile vomiting upto 8 feet. On a slightly less disgusting note, the turkey vulture can process most poisons, so if they eat a sick carcass, their waste does not perpetuate the poison.

After him was the final bird, the Bald Eagle. It was incredibly cool to see a bald eagle so close - they're an incredibly beautiful bird. Interesting things we learned about them are that their coloring allows them to be
mistaken by fish for a log floating on the water, thus making it more possible for the birds to get food and
the fact that their nests can weigh up to 2 tons. They're also an indicator species, as they sit at the top of
a food chain, so if they start to have problems it indicates problems in the entire food chain that need to be
investigated.

We all really enjoyed the bird show, as you see.

We grabbed a quick bite to eat back at the lodge before taking the tram back down. Again we caught the bus, this time to the quay where we transferred to the Sea bus (exactly what it sounds like - a ferry that takes
you across to downtown). By this point, the doodle had fallen asleep, so he missed the whole boat ride. He
woke up enough to make the walk back to the hotel (though Tim had to carry him after a few blocks) where we called it another fairly early night.

I'll post pictures when we're back home -- ship Internet is slow.

Answer Me These Questions Three

2011-08-30T12:00:00.000-04:00

Yesterday dawned bright and early, with all of us sleeping til the late, late hour of 7 am. (Hey, we got to sleep til 10, finally...just in the wrong time zone.) When we were biking around Stanley Park, we saw several gaggles of Canadian Geese and I asked Tim, half-joking, half-serious if they were simply called geese here (as the Canadian seemed a bit redundant.) He commented then that it was probably also just called bacon, and what we call bacon was probably called American bacon. We had a little laugh and moved along. Then, we toddled down to breakfast and they had scrambled eggs and bacon in the chafing dish. I opened it up to get some and, lo and behold, their bacon was in fact Canadian bacon...simply labeled bacon. Aside from laughing to myself, I was rather disappointed, because eggs and ham is not really my style for breakfast. When I see bacon, I start thinking bacon (like *our* kind of bacon). So it was a bit of a let down. For the record, the doodle also does not like bacon in Vancouver...mostly because he also is not a big ham eater.

The view out the window as we ate let us see some of the beams for the stadium rising into the sky. There was a man doing some repair work on one of the beams way up high that I pointed out to the kiddo. He was thrilled and amazed and asked, "Why is he so small!?" I bit back the reply that he was an Oompa Loompa and instead explained distance and perspective a bit, but we chuckled about that for a good bit of the day.

After breakfast, we came back up, got ready (yes, we're that family that comes down to the hotel breakfast with bed head in clothes that have clearly just been thrown on in order to be presentable) and, after considering our options, decided to walk to the nearest pick up point for the free shuttle to the Capilano Suspension Bridge. It was only a 15 or so minute walk, and given that we had to wait 20 minutes for the hotel's free shuttle anywhere in downtown to take us to the sea bus (which would then take us to the bus terminal wherein the public bus would take us to the bridge) we figured it was a reasonable use of our time. Plus, as I mentioned yesterday, Vancouver is a nice city for walking.

We got to the Hyatt just as the shuttle turned the corner and zipped away. Missed it by that much. We wandered down to the stop anyway to see where we could wait (it being on a 15 minute schedule) and there was a young man (being all old and everything, I can now call people in their early 20s young people with a slight quiver to my voice) who worked for the Hop on Hop off buses who was able to sell us our admission to the bridge and call ahead to reserve us a spot on the next shuttle (which I guess just guarantees that it stops to pick us up). We wandered up to the Starbucks on the corner (yes, they're on every corner here, too) to buy some water to carry with and then made our way back to wait for the shuttle. I was actually pleased that we got the shuttle we did, because the one we missed was just a regular old bus. The one we rode was a trolley.

The drive to the bridge is about 30 minutes and it takes you through Stanley Park and then across the Lion's Gate Bridge. As you cross the bridge, you get this lovely view of Vancouver.

If you look closely, you can see Tim's reflection in there as well.

I expected the bridge to be in a wilderness type area on the side of the mountain far removed from civilization. It is, in fact, in the middle of a really pretty residential area (which probably costs a pretty penny to live in, but still) and not all that far from the city, so probably considered suburbia. Still, once you enter the gate, you'd never know you were anywhere other than the great outdoors.

As is my habit, I sat us down for a picture in front of the big sign saying where we were. Tim has perfected the art of holding the camera out and up and snapping reasonably good photos of us and the background, so we were all set to do this...and the camera wouldn't turn on. A quick look showed the happy little phrase "change battery pack" flashing across the bottom of the screen. Swear words I wasn't sure I remembered flickered through my mind because I had thought about charging the battery the night before but figured it was fine and so didn't. Tim was calm and said surely there was a gift shop that could sell us a disposable camera. I wanted to whine about how then we'd just have real pictures not digital ones and all the various annoyances this would cause, but instead I just stomped after him trying very hard not to sulk (which is tough when you're as mad at yourself as I was). Our old camera could also take AA batteries...not so this one. On the other hand, this one fits in a pocket and the old one did not. Still, Tim took the battery out to check that this was, for sure, the case (it was), we found the disposables, and then the camera started working just fine because apparently the battery just needed to be reseated. I bought a disposable anyway, just to guarantee that we wouldn't need it and we went back for our picture in front of the sign.

From there, you get a little tour of the history of the bridge that I would have enjoyed spending more time in, but, well, 3 year old. They do make it fun for kids in the wordy parts by giving you a passport map with six stamps that you have to find and collect. So we found the history stamp and then moved on to the little Totem area where they talk about the native culture a bit. I'm unclear how, exactly, this figures into the bridge, but everyone in Canada seems particularly proud of the native cultures and totems, in particular, so that's fine. The doodle loves the totems. Stamp acquired.

Next up is the bridge.

If it looks like it's long, narrow, and sways a lot, that's because that's all true. We strapped the doodle on my back in the Ergo (which I brought along for the sole purpose of this stop on our touring) and weeble wobbled our way across. It's absolutely breathtaking.

When you reach the other side, they have a little rain forest expedition with wooden trails and walkways that take you through and up and over and then they have a tree house that the Swiss Family Robinson would envy. They also have some birds of prey in aeries (and they have ranger talks, but we missed those). We spent about two hours on that side of the bridge.

We crossed back over the suspension bridge, this time the doodle wanted to walk. So we let him (holding mommy's hand while mommy tried very hard to shake the vision of the bridge flipping over from her mind. Why I had no problem with him on my back but very nearly hyperventilated while he was walking I have no idea.) Then we had lunch and made our way to the cliff walk.

The cliff walk is even better than what it sounds like. It's an 18" (or so, definitely less than 24" though) walkway that arcs out around the side of the mountain. You walk over seeing various gorgeous views, some of them straight down as several areas have glass bottoms for you to stand on. The doodle was in heaven.

After that, there is a fun walk through another rain forest-y area with a focus on water conservation (Canadians are very eco-conscious, you see that just about everywhere you look) and then we hit up the trading post and some ice cream before collecting our certificate (that you get for finding all the stamps on your passport) and making our way to the public bus up to Grouse Mountain (for the last half of the day.) I think, perhaps, I'll do that as a separate post - stay tuned.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

2011-08-29T23:25:00.000-04:00

Yesterday (I'm a day behind in our vacation reporting - maybe I'll do two days tonight, we'll see), we got up super early and took a taxi to the airport. (I called down to the front desk to ask for a taxi at about 5:45 and the front desk lady was incredulous, "You want to go now? In the early morning?" I explained that our train left at 7:40, so yes, we really did want a taxi for 6 or thereabout. She was happy to oblige, just surprised. It started the day off with a chuckle. We were all bright eyed and bushy tailed as our bodies were pretty certain it was 9am.

The doodle couldn't get over how cool it was to be in a taxi. With a meter! And he's driving us! Honestly, sometimes I think we could just go downtown at home and take public transit around and he'd be just as happy as if he'd been taken on a big vacation. Me, not quite as much.

We got to the train station and it took exactly 7 minutes to get checked in and have our bags checked. I mention this only because Tim was mocking me for wanting to be there an hour before departure (or more). Apparently you don't need to treat trains like planes. Who knew? (Possibly everyone who is not me.) So we sat for a bit and then wandered about for a bit and then stood in line to get our seat assignments and then sat some more and then, finally, we boarded. Because the train was not sold out, the very nice train engineer (I was going to say train lady, because I think the engineer is just the person who actually drives the train, but I'm not sure) gave us a set of four seats to ourselves rather than sitting a fourth person with us. So we had two sets of two seats facing one another with a table between. And may I just add now that the seats in "coach" on a train are about the size and cushiness of the seats in first class on an airplane? I see now why some people (hi dad!) prefer trains to planes when given the choice. Plus you can walk around (heck, they encourage you to walk around). The doodle was in heaven. Tim and I were close - the scenery was amazing the whole way up and living in the Pacific Northwest is now on my bucket list.

The above is just one small example of the gorgeous views we had the whole trip. And really, I'm not sure the photo does it justice.

Regardless, after about four hours, we pulled into the station in Vancouver, BC. It was just about lunch time and the doodle had been mentioning his hunger for the past, oh, hour, so we were planning to hit the hotel first and then get food, but there were golden arches spotted by Mr. Eagle Eye himself and so, figuring that we were pushing it to check in that early anyway, we caved. Amusingly, the toy he got in his Happy Meal was the exact toy he'd gotten a week previous at home. Now they are twins and they fight. (It's really rather amusing.) (Also amusing is the fact that Canadian McDonald's have a red maple leaf in the middle of the M and their milk jugs are called Lait's Go - if you know French, you'll get the humor.)

From there we caught another taxi (oh, the rapture!) to the hotel where we were lucky enough to be able to check in and get our room right away. They also let us know about a free shuttle the hotel has to take us just about anywhere downtown. I had planned to use the bus system and had even researched how to do so, but a free shuttle sounded just about right. So after dropping off our luggage upstairs, we headed back out to rent bikes and toodle about Stanley Park.

In preparation for this bike renting extravaganza (wherein I'd hoped to rent a tandem with a ride along extension for the doodle), we had gone up to Old Town Alexandria to rent bikes (hoping for the same set up) to see how it went. They said they couldn't add the trail-a-bike to a tandem (makes the bike too long), so we did a trailer and two bikes instead. In Vancouver, though, we decided to do the trail-a-bike with Tim's bike rather than the trailer because the doodle had been sitting for so much of the trip so far and he needed to wiggle. He enjoyed being able to pedal along and "help" daddy drive the bike. I enjoyed riding in front of them much more than behind where I had to see just how often his feet came completely off both pedals and he leaned precariously to the right (always to the right).

Stanley Park in Vancouver is magnificent, and if you ever go, you really need to rent bikes to see it. They have incredible bike paths around the perimeter and some that break off to wind you through (we rented from Spokes and found it a reasonably priced, enjoyable thing - and if you are more adventurous and less clumsy than I, you can choose to rent roller blades instead) to see the sights in the interior. We spent about three hours tooling around, did the entire perimeter and then wandered around inside looking for the miniature railroad (that we never did find, we finally gave up because we were getting tired and hungry and hot). Along the way we stopped at several playgrounds and saw two fabulous public water park / pool type places, along with several beach areas. Since it was Sunday afternoon, it was a tad crowded, but everyone had lovely manners for passing slower moving bikes and so on and so forth. Even the folks who were clearly there for racing/exercising purposes. (Which was not so much the case when we rode at home.)

Along the sea wall portion of the ride, there is an artist (perhaps several artists, that much was unclear) who make stacked stone sculptures on the rock beaches - they were fascinating to look at and a beautiful natural art installation.

When we were finished with our ride, we returned the bikes and decided to walk back to the hotel (the free shuttle is drop off only). Vancouver is a lovely city for walking - we ended up choosing a primarily residential street for most of our trek (it was about a 40 minute walk) and it was quiet and clean - honestly it didn't feel like we were even in a city, it felt like we were in one of the small towns that make up the Chicago suburbs (if you've ever walked through Wheaton or Glen Ellen, you'll know what I mean). Along the way we were looking for a place to grab supper, but didn't see anything that met the criteria of probably having something the kiddo would eat and being fit for people who had been on a train and then bikes for the majority of the day. We did see lots of ethnic food that if we were still childless would definitely have been on our radar (or perhaps if we'd somehow managed to unlock adventurous eating in our child - still working on that one, but it's not going super well). Ultimately, we landed at a pizza place two blocks from the hotel, where we got a pie to go and sat in the room with our feet up to eat. It definitely hit the spot. (Amore Pizza on Robson, if you're wondering. Very tasty.)

The doodle crashed and snored in bliss the entire night (which engendered great rejoicing from his parents who are rather tired of waking up with him several times a night. Still. At three.) We headed for bed around 9, which made us feel like old folks, but we decided that since it felt like midnight to us, we could get a small break.

So far, the vacation is off to a fantastic start.

Sleepys in Seattle

2011-08-28T23:45:00.000-04:00

On Saturday we rushed around the house battening down various hatches while simultaneously crossing all crossable appendages that our flight would, in fact, take off. I blessed the people who urged us to take a non-stop flight many times during that process, because had I decided that the money a stop would save us was worth it, we would inevitably have not gotten to leave, as all our options routed us through New York. As it was, we headed to the airport mostly sure that we would, in fact, be taking off but still harboring a very slight dread that that would not be the case.

I have, clearly, not flown out of Dulles in a long time, because wow, it's changed. (For the better, mind you, but honestly, it's like a whole different airport.) They moved the security lines, which makes incredible sense, so the lines now no longer wind all the around check in booths. The doodle and I went through with no issues (just standard screening in the metal detector, no pat down or anything), Tim now has naked x-ray pictures of him online somewhere. (I kid. Mostly. You know those images are stored and that they'll inevitably get out at some point.) Anyway, our plane did leave and, keeping in mind the new era of flying where if they could figure out how to make you pay for having your seat pressurized, they would, we stocked up on snacks from a deli in the terminal before getting on board. At the last minute I grabbed a few extra bags of chips - this turned out to be a very, very good thing.

The doodle is 3.5. I know this. I know his attention span. I stocked up on lots of little books and coloring things and toys at the dollar store and didn't let him see them until on the plane to try and keep him interested and quiet and still 3 hours into the flight he was ready to be done. ("Mama, let's get off the airplane now. I'm done.") It didn't help that the air was ever so slightly choppy (the whole trip, not just as we snuck out of Irene's reach), so while the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, one flight attendant with an incredibly snippy attitude kept coming by and insisting that we rebuckle him. Honestly, if he'd been able to wiggle in his seat he (and we) would've been much happier, much longer. Regardless, those extra bags of chips kept him happy and us sane and we only got one glare from someone around us when he accidentally kicked the guys seat one time while shifting around. (Now, I'll be honest, I've given kids behind me the look when they continuously kick my seat, but this was one kick. Dude reading Game of Thrones, you need to get a life.)

We got our bags with relative ease and then went in search of the courtesy shuttle to our hotel. We are doing this whole trip sans personal transportation - it's an adventure, but honestly I didn't want to lug a carseat around with us and, when I priced out rental cars, it really kind of made me choke with how much it was going to cost between the rental and the various parking etc. So we're trying something new. And hey, courtesy shuttle, so why not?

45 minutes waiting for them to get there. That's why not. See, the first time we saw the shuttle pull up, we hurried over and got there right behind a group of women that appeared to be some sort of family reunion based on bringing everything you own and anything your neighbor will let you borrow with you. Maybe they were some kind of urban Bedouin group? No idea. All I knew is that the luggage area of the shuttle was full before all the women had even made their way into the shuttle, so some of them had to wait while the driver got the rest of the luggage belonging to the women who did fit on the shuttle smushed into the shuttle aisles. We figured we'd wait for the next shuttle.

Except there was no "next shuttle". There was just this one lonely shuttle person. (But even given that, he had to have stopped to smoke a pack of cigarettes or something before coming back around, because the time it took him to get us from the airport to the hotel was considerably shorter than 1/2 the time we had just finished waiting. With an overtired, hungry, cranky 3 year old. Which made it feel 4 times longer than it really was.)

We dragged our exhausted selves to the room, dropped the bags, and just went to the restaurant downstairs for dinner where we tried to get said overtired child to eat at what felt like to him roughly 11pm. For that time frame, he did well enough, and we scooted him off to bed and crashed ourselves shortly thereafter.

Things we learned from our first plane ride with a small child:

Take what you think their attention span is and halve it.
Take the amount of activities you think you need and double it.
Then double that.
Then pack an iPad with movies on it just in case.
Bring lots of snacks.
Give up on the "I don't want my child drinking soda at this age" idea. Ginger ale keeps him happy for 20 minutes.
Plus it makes him have to go potty, which takes up another 15 minutes or so.
Don't explain that you got to go see the cockpit and got pilot wings on your first flight. He will get neither and it's just mean to bring up.
Give up on the idea that you get to read or rest or in any other way enjoy your flight. You will be solely focused on keeping your Tazmanian Devil from terrorizing the rows around you.
If all else fails, smile, apologize to the person giving you a death glare and mouth the words, "He's three."

Old Mother Hubbard

2011-08-26T15:14:00.000-04:00

I have, perhaps, done too good a job emptying my refrigerator for our upcoming vacation as I'm now not sure exactly what will be for dinner, breakfast, or lunch tomorrow. Cereal and PB&J, I guess.

That said, at least nothing will rot.

And also, I'm very able to avoid the current mass panic runs on the grocery stores for the up coming hurricane. (This turns out to be good as a friend assures me that there is pretty much nothing left on the shelves right now anyway.)

You Can't Be A Mom and OCD

2011-08-25T20:24:00.000-04:00

Or at least, I can't. My mom has started remarking on the fact that my OCD tendencies have taken a vacation since becoming a mom (though I should clarify here for the record, I do not *have* OCD, however, when I get stressed, I organize. It helps me cope. Also, disorganization for long periods of time makes the back of my skull itch. But I do not even enter the same planet of Howard Hughes or Adrian Monk.) And you know, for the most part, she's right.

It was pretty early on that I realized I was not going to be able to keep up sane mothering (which, by necessity means that kids can play and the cushions get taken off the couch and there's dog fur on the floor pretty much within 2 seconds of having just run the vacuum) and a neat house. I continue to periodically toy with the idea of hiring a house keeper, but honestly, though I enjoyed coming home from work to a clean house, there were too many things that weren't cleaned the way *I* would clean them (which thus needed to be recleaned) that really, there's no point. Though if I could find someone who would come every week to mop my kitchen and bathroom floors and scrub showers - and that's it - I would willingly pay them to do that.

The most recent remark came this evening as my mom commented on how surprised she was that I am not yet packed for our vacation. In days past, I would totally be packed by now. And I'll admit to a small amount of stress about not at least being started, but it just hasn't worked out that I've had time (between printing, signing, faxing and then emailing reams - and you think I kid, but no, really, reams - of paper to our attorneys, trying to shop for fall clothes for the boy because it occurred to me that he will need warmer clothes than what I currently have in his size, and Tim working crazy hours leaving me with the basic "keep the house running" functions, well, packing has moved down the list considerably.) I do have some lists made, so that's good. This evening I packed the kiddo's backpack full of fun things to occupy his time on the airplane (hopefully both rides) and I think there is more than enough to keep us from being the scourge of the air. But really? It'll get taken care of tomorrow and Saturday before we load the car. And whatever we forget, we'll have to just buy when we get there.

Four years ago I would have been in a purple panic, and most likely staying up all night so that I could get it taken care of. Tonight I plan to go to bed at a reasonable hour because I'm just plain exhausted. And really, whenever I start to get annoyed at having to take my Zoloft every morning because I feel fine, I hope that I can think back to this and realize that sometimes, there really is better living through chemistry.

First, Let's Kill All the Lawyers

2011-08-24T20:45:00.000-04:00

Or something like that, I fear I've butchered the quote. That said, oh my goodness. I have finally realized why law school exists. It is for the sole purpose of teaching you how to use 100 words to say something that should only take 5. And they're all nice big words like "pursuant" and "heretofore". (Rue the day? Who talks like that?*)

So, if you notice your oxygen supply diminishing, just know it's because I am single handedly bringing the wrath of the Lorax down on this part of the world by printing out all the various forms that our attorneys are sending our way.

I don't remember being buried in paper last time.

*Spot the quote.

Why Facebook Hasn't Killed My Blog (At Least Not Completely)

2011-08-22T15:29:00.000-04:00

On Thursday, the kiddo and I packed up our various swim gear and headed to the pool with some friends whose neighborhood actually has a pool. (Honestly, when we moved here, I didn't think not having a pool in the 'hood would be a big deal. Now that the doodle is on the scene, I kick myself all summer long. On the other hand, I really like how cheap our HOA dues are in comparison, so there's that.) While in the pool, I just turn off the cell phone and don't worry about anything like that because, really, how often do I actually get calls that matter? (Answer: hardly ever.)

You can probably see where that's going, right?

So we get out of the pool a little ahead of our friends because the doodle has decided he's all done. And we go and get clothes on and then settled onto a lounger in the sun to wait for them to be finished. I grabbed my phone to let the kiddo play games and noticed I had a voice mail. So I figured I'd check it before moving on to games, and lo and behold...it was our attorneys. I skimmed through the email they'd sent about the opportunity and fired it off to Tim, then tried to get him on the phone. Lo and behold, he actually answered his phone at work (this is very unusual these days) and he read the email and we agreed that it sounded like a good fit. So I called the attorneys back, said yes, we'd like to be considered.

Pretty much these days when this happens we let our parents know and that's it. We know our parents will pray with us and beyond that, there's just too much possibility of us not being selected to bother letting the whole world know only to have to turn around and say that they didn't choose us. So I let our parents know as well and then essentially put it from my mind thinking that it would at least a few days before we heard anything else.

So the afternoon consisted of nap time (with grading for me), and then a mad rush up to a park near Tim's office for his company picnic. Well, while we were getting on the highway my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID ready to just ignore it, but it was our attorneys again, so I figured it was a reasonable idea to answer and see what was up. Totally expecting, honestly, to be told that the birth parents had decided they wanted characteristics that we didn't meet.

In fact it was quite the opposite.

The attorneys thought we were such a good fit that they asked the birth parents to look at our portfolio while they worked on getting some other options together. And after that, they decided they didn't need or want to look at anyone else.

So at this point, we're expecting a new baby sometime in the early part of 2012 (I do have a more specific due date than that, but I've decided I'm going to keep those details off the blog for the time being.) I think Tim is still in shock - and honestly, I'm close to still in shock. And since the due date is so far off, we're not letting everyone know as of yet (though we did tell Tim's grandparents who then let it slip to a few other people, so we did send out an email to extended family to let them know so it was at least coming from us rather than the grapevine.) So it's not going up on Facebook for now, but Tim said I could talk about it here - and that is why I continue to love my blog.

The detail that most people seem interested in is, sadly, one we don't yet know: gender. It's still a bit early for that (and hand in hand with being too early for that, we're trying to keep our minds cognizant of the fact that things can still end up with a different outcome - it's a long time til the new year...but we're still totally excited).

T-8 Days, and Counting

2011-08-18T14:56:00.000-04:00

That right there is the vacation counter.

I'm really looking forward to having some good, relaxing family time. I suspect that will occur sometime around when we're off the airplane. Because the flight is terrifying me right now. (Last night I had nightmares and while I can't remember the whole of them, they were very clearly about flying with my little boy.) I think he's going to love it. But I also know that sitting still for that length of time is going to be a challenge. And then I have visions of him being that child who can't get his ears to pop and thus spends the whole time screeching at the top of his lungs.

I'm sure he'll be fine. I really am. I just need the anticipation of it to be done.

(Last year before the cruise I had visions of him tumbling overboard and being ill and so on and so forth and he was fine and the nightmares were unwarranted...so at least I don't have to have those again.)

I meant to grab the suitcases we're borrowing from my sister when I was at her house yesterday so I could start packing some things. Yes, it's early to be packing. But we're going to be taking clothes not currently in use, so why not? I thought it might ease my mind. Now, having forgotten to get said suitcases twice I am simply beginning to wonder if my mind is slipping.

Still, I am quite looking forward to our trip. As I'm going to have to teach while we're away anyway, expect updates intermittently.

Rantus Interruptus

2011-08-17T14:33:00.000-04:00

I logged into dear old Blogger with the sole purpose of complaining about how lately (today in particular), every time I check Facebook it's post after post after post of what, in my current mental state, just feels like salt in the particular wound in question (e.g. having lost boodles of weight by making the simple changes that a normal body responds to by losing weight, or having kids that are wonderful sleepers, or whatever.)

But you were all saved from this delight by Google's sense of humor - right there on my dashboard it says, "It looks like your blog is popular!" and then it continued by asking me if I wanted to monetize it with ad sense. It was a good thing that I was not drinking at the time, because I did most assuredly laugh out loud when I read that.

Out of curiosity, I clicked on the stats link (and honestly, this was the first time I noticed said stats link - when did Blogger start doing stats, I ask you? Clearly I need to pay more attention to my platform's announcements. Or not. But hey, good to know.) and I actually get more page views than I anticipated. Yay for me! (Really it's more "Yay for you, whoever you are. Thank you for swinging by." I thought about an exclamation on that last one. And then maybe a "Please come back again", but I don't want to seem needy.) (Even though it totally made my day.)

And so my mild funk was busted. Who says blogging isn't good for you?

(And no, I won't be monetizing my blog anytime soon. Fear not.)

Pintrist

2011-08-16T20:29:00.000-04:00

So I joined pintrist because I enjoy browsing what other people have pinned and I thought hey, why not?

Today I realized that I just don't do a lot of web surfing these days - so there's a lot less catching my eye, and so I have these vast empty pin boards that kind of mock me (just a little), wondering when on earth I'm going to pin something that is interesting. (Also I've realized that I really suck at category names. You can tell that from my blog categories, but gosh, it's even suckier on my pinboards.)

On the other hand, I have realized that there are a lot of people out there who pin really interesting things. So there's still that.

In all, it's a really cool idea...I just wonder if I'm not tiptoeing toward social media-ed out.

This Should Be Interesting

2011-08-15T15:32:00.000-04:00

So the class I'm currently teaching ends this week. The next class starts up next week. Which means I will have to (get to?) teach two live sessions while on vacation. On a boat. In Alaska.

It should work. But. Well. We'll see what happens.

We could definitely file that under not thinking things through all the way when accepting an assignment.

If It's Not One Thing

2011-08-11T17:21:00.000-04:00

Seeing the name of your adoption attorney show up on the caller id sends 1,000 thoughts through your brain in a flash So it was with a racing heart that I grabbed the phone yesterday afternoon Turns out it was just a quick call because they were updating their files to see if we had a current homestudy still, since that is a prerequsite for being eligible for last minute placements (parents who decide on adoption at the hospital after the birth) When we last updated our study, our state had just changed their law to make home studies good for 36 months This was a super cool thing, in our mind, because it cuts down on the amount of money that you have to throw out year after year after year

So I assured the attorney that yes, our homestudy was still valid, then shot off a quick email to our social worker to verify that I was remembering that correctly When I got a reply that yes, I was correct, I shot off a quick email to our attorney to that effect and then spent the evening trying to remind myself that they were just updating their files and there was no hidden meaning to it

And then there was today - when I get an email from the attorney letting us know that for their state, the homestudy has to be current within 12 months

Le sigh

So now we're looking at having to update our perfectly good homestudy - to the tune of nearly $600 - because of state differences. And ok, sure, it's probably worth doing, but it's so frustrating because it's not like spending that money means anything other than that we could get a short notice placement, it wouldn't really be necessary for a normal length placement (we'd have plenty of time to update the thing with expedited fees in that time frame) Then you couple that with the fact that in the past 2 years of them having our paperwork, they've had exactly one possible match for us (that obviously didn't pan out) - so really, is this even worth it? Or should we, in addition to updating the study, be looking for a different place to work with?

And then in the back of my mind, I start to wonder if we ought to explore international adoption again - though I'd want to do a South American country at this point and I haven't been keeping up with how those adoptions are going at all - I guess I should do a little research

It's just so frustrating, especially with the emotional rollercoaster of the last 24 hours thinking that they had someone in mind for us going to being, essentially, totally ineligible at this point in time even if they did

Wednesday Ramblings

2011-08-10T16:19:00.000-04:00

A few thoughts before I go and wake the little one from his nap, because I'm not having a ton of luck stringing together a fully formed post:

I'm both excited and bordering on antsy for our upcoming vacation. I need to start making some lists. Lists always help make me calm.
I was tidying up the kitchen table this morning (it gets strewn with coloring books and toys and other random detritus of a 3 year old and usually I let it just stay for a while because the minute I put it away, he wants it out again) and the boy looks at me and says, "Mama, who's coming over?" Maybe I need to be just a bit more strict about putting things away when we're done playing with them on the table.
He totally refused to believe we were expecting company when I next started in on the kitchen island and dining room table.
I refuse to contemplate exactly what that says about my housekeeping. Other than to just agree that my home won't be appearing in any magazine features anytime soon. Which is just fine with me - we live here, and I think houses should look like homes, not showplaces.
I finished reading Ready Player One last night. Love love love. It was a fantastic story with lots of great 80's trivia/nostalgia mixed into a good future/cyberpunk-light story. Well worth a read if you're in the market for a book these days.

And I think that wraps it up, because I hear the pitter patter of feet above my head.

Book Review: Indelible

2011-08-09T15:05:00.000-04:00

I read Indivisible by this author last year and remembered enjoying it, so when I saw the opportunity to review another book set in the same town (so with overlapping characters, etc.) I thought it might be fun. In general, that turned out to be the case.

Indelible follows the story of Natalie, a sculptor who recently moved to the town and Trevor MacDaniel, former Olympic athlete and owner of the adventure outfitter shop next door to her new studio. They meet when Trevor rescues Natalie's nephew from a mountain lion attack - the resulting publicity from the rescue draws attention from a murderous stalker. Much suspense, romance, and drama follow.

Overall, it's a quick, fun read. However, I was lucky enough (ha) to get this as an ebook and all I can say is that I hope when they sell the Kindle version they take the time to actually format it in such a way as to make it readable. The version I got (and it's not an ARC, but I didn't download it from Amazon, it was sent by the publisher, thus why it might be different) was horrid and incredibly hard to follow for several chapters until I could mostly figure out what was meant to have been set apart as a chapter topping quote. Also, the author skips from the standard telling of the story into the crazed ramblings of the stalker, and really, I think the story would have been better without said crazed ramblings. They really didn't add to anything. They didn't reveal the story better. And at least in the electronic version I had, they were hard enough to distinguish that it took a minute before I realized that the main characters hadn't suddenly started ranting, but that we had switched voice again.

If I assigned stars, I guess I'd give this one a solid 3...maybe 2.5.

In case you didn't catch it, this book was provided for review by Waterbrook Publishing.

I Can Already Tell It's Going To Be A Favorite

2011-08-08T14:33:00.001-04:00

I just started reading The Invention of Hugo Cabret aloud to the doodle. I haven't read it yet myself, so it's risky, I suppose, to do it as a read aloud, but I can always edit as we go if needed. So far, it's delightful. And the pictures. Oh, the pictures.

There is a reason that there does not appear to be either a paperback or Kindle version of this book, and that is the pictures. But let me just say...so worth it.

We spend several minutes poring over each one, looking at the pencil lines and searching for the hidden details. Some seem so rough and hastily drawn, others are deep and rich with things to find...it's just glorious.

When I read on the cover "A story in words and pictures" I wasn't sure what to expect but now...It's so much more than an illustrated book.

They're making a movie (out soonish, if I recall - saw the preview during Harry Potter). Having found the delight of the book (and really, we're only about 1/4 of the way through), I have to wonder if it's even possible that they've done it justice.

PreK vs K

2011-08-03T19:58:00.000-04:00

I'm sitting and looking at the calendar and realizing that the school year is nearly upon us. Now, this doesn't really have a huge impact on us as yet - the doodle being only 3.5. But I have decided that this year I'm going to be more intentional about the whole school thing as I've chosen not to seek out a pre-school for him to attend or anything like that. (This is predicated primarily on the fact that we're pretty sure we're going to home school in the long run, so really, why start him out in pre-school when we would then just pull him out of that environment in order to do school at home?)

So, since I'm a bit of a nerd, I started with looking at the standards of learning (SOLs) that the state has for Kindy. And...that was kind of what I had planned on covering this year because it seemed to me that that would be what they do in Pre-K. So now I'm wondering if I ought to just wait a year before doing anything intentional (though I don't really want to do that as he's very clearly ready to be learning and it's good to focus the sponge-like nature of his brain so that it doesn't fill completely with Phineas and Ferb, leaving no room for anything else.)

It's not that I have a problem with him being ahead for kids his age...I guess it just seems odd to consider that, essentially, I'm going to be putting my 3.5 year old in Kindergarten. That just seems...obnoxious. And a bit like I'm pushing him to grow up too fast or something like that. Especially since given his birthday, he wouldn't be going to public school for 2 more years (he'd be 5.5 by the time they'd take him - and if I was putting him in a classroom with 25 other kids, I'd probably agree that that is a good plan, because of maturity development, not because of anything having to do with learning readiness.)

I suppose we could consider splitting the difference and doing a year of pre-K/K this year and another of K next year at home. Though realistically it would likely be K/1st next year. But then you end up with him being at weird grade levels and I don't want to end up like my friend who had to decide what grade her son was in, and the determination was fairly arbitrary. Though I guess in the overall scheme of things, that doesn't matter overly.

All that to say, it's time to put some loose lesson plans together and I'm actually really looking forward to that process. I think he's really going to enjoy having some school-time each day - I know I'm going to enjoy watching his brain soak up knowledge.

August....Really?

2011-08-01T15:11:00.000-04:00

I suppose it's a sign of age, or something, but I am having a terribly difficult time wrapping my head around the idea that today is August 1st. That said, I am ready to start counting down the days til our vacation at the end of the month - where hopefully it'll be cooler than it's been around here.

I have a relatively big list of things that need to get done before said vacation - most of them relating to my plan to do pre-K/K at home this year and the various crafts for MOPS that I want to have ready to demo at our planning meeting on the 20th. And yet here I sit, blathering on about basically nothing.

In 12 short days, Tim and I will hit our 16th anniversary. We're rapidly reaching the point where we'll have been together longer than we were not - and that's a strange (yet completely delightful) realization. We started dating in October of 1993 - so really it's only another 2 years, though it's another 4 before we'll have been married for as long as we were single. (Still, it's coming along fast.)

With the advent of August has come the wads of school supply catalogs and ads and displays and can I just say I'm in heaven? I know I'm not alone in loving school supplies - in fact, it seems like it's a very common love, rather than the odd one I used to think it was - but still...I have this urge to go buy a notebook and a package of pens and a new tape dispenser. (I can't be alone in loving the smell of Scotch tape, can I?)

Happy August, people.

Brain Rot Update

2011-07-29T14:59:00.000-04:00

I realized that I haven't commented on the various TV shows I've been using as distraction from how much I hate to exercise lately. So really, what better way to spend Friday than focusing on the latest in brain rot? To wit:

Platinum Hit - This is a competition for songwriters. It is rife with drama and cattiness and, as such, takes me about 15 minutes to watch the 1-hour episodes as I skip the whining and the commercials, preferring instead to watch the hook challenge and then hear the final songs. I need very little of the actual song writing part (which is the longest part of the show) to get the gist. For those not watching, I'll sum it up: all of these song writers hate working with other song writers because they feel the others' egos are too large and/or they're not as talented. Honestly, the best part is watching Jewel (one of the judges) remind them every single week that songwriting is very rarely done alone in a closet and they really have to learn to work with other people if they want to make it. Then they cut to the confessionals where all the song writers are like "What? I work great with other people, it's just that other people don't work well with me."

Master Chef - I love seeing the more focused, less extreme side of Gordon Ramsay. I also enjoy Joe and Graham. I am frankly surprised that the contestants who consistently break down into tears over the stress are still around. Isn't part of being a chef being able to deal with stress? That said, it's nice to see real people cook.

Hell's Kitchen - This just started back up and I'm already a bit behind, but it seems like it's running par for the course. I'm almost over it, honestly. This season may be the one where I quit watching. Plus? I miss Jean-Phillippe.

Food Network Star - I'm so glad this is almost over. Honestly, this is another one I watch in about 15 minutes because dang people, just hush up and cook. And that applies to the contestants and Bobby Flay. I used to really like Bobby Flay, I'm not sure what happened, honestly, but somewhere along the lines he started believing his own press or something and lost his appeal. And the selection committee...oh...I know they're media magnates of some sort, but could they be more annoying? Beyond that - there isn't a single contestant whose show I would watch. And I'm not sure that wasn't the case when all of them were still standing. I guess I'm just about over this show...we'll see what happens next summer.

Design Star - This is the slightly less annoying cousin to Food Network Star. Vern Yip is in very much the same boat as Bobby Flay to me, though I can't say I actually ever liked his design style on Trading Spaces, at least he wasn't quite as huge of an egotistical snot ball as he is on Design Star. Then last season they got rid of Clive as the host and the judges did the hosting themselves. This year, they've brought back a host but it's some incredibly annoying woman who, as far as I can tell, actually adds nothing to the show. If they were gonna bring back a host, I wish they'd've brought back Clive. He made it so much more fun. As it is, at this point I'm yet again behind in episodes and not in any rush to catch up because it's all the same old crap that no one in their right mind would actually let into their house. I guess I'm about over this one, as well.

Project Runway - This just started up again last night - the episode is currently calling to me from the DVR. I might to watch it here shortly. But I'm stoked that it's back.

There is a new show, Take the Money and Run, that looks like it could be amusing. I think it starts next week, so perhaps I'll report back on that later. But that's a snapshot of the reality brain rot currently in consumption around these parts.

Too Much, Too Little, and In-Between

2011-07-28T14:36:00.000-04:00

I think perhaps all parents of the stay-at-home variety struggle with the right balance of doing things and staying at home (or at least, I certainly hope they do, otherwise I'm going to feel considerably worse about myself). Throw an only child into the mix and it gets crazier. I'm not really worried about him getting "socialized" per se, he's a very social, friendly kid. What I really want is for him not to be crazy bored all the time to the point that I have to do all the playing with him. I'm happy to play with him some (I love playing with him), but I also want him to learn to play with others and by himself. And these are the skills that I'm finding I am unsure how to teach. (Also? Girls play incredibly differently than boys. The more I play with him, the more I realize that even at 37, I play like a girl and him? He plays very much like a boy.)

I have a friend who rarely takes her kids out of the house on a given day. She has 3, and they play together or in their yard and they have lots of friends on their street who all seem to congregate at their house. So it's a very different situation because I think if my planets all aligned that way, I'd be less inclined to try and go places/do things as often as I do. Instead, we know our neighbors by sight, and I know a few of their names, but they all seem to have much older children and some of the younger kids try, but I have to say I find it slightly disconcerting for an 8 year old to come ring my doorbell and ask if my 3.5 year old can come play. (This usually happens right at bedtime, to boot.)

On the other hand, there are some weeks where it feels like we're never home. We're out at a playground or the library or the grocery store or whatever and we get home for naptime and that's it. Our day has been sucked away by being out and he hasn't had any chance to play with the billions of toys in our playroom all week and ...that seems like he's teetering on over-enriched. (Which usually then swings us to a period of not leaving the house, which, ultimately leaves us both needing to get out of the house.)

Maybe this really is something that's tidal - and if that's the case, then I can roll with it. But I often will stop and wonder if I missed the formula for "right" somewhere.

Is there a point to this post? Not really - just random wanderings of my mind as I debate working up the energy to get on my elliptical during nap time vs. giving up on the idea and giving into the migraine that's brewing and just huddling in a dark room to rest for a bit. On the positive side, I know my sister will have rolled her eyes at me and will tell me to get over it. My mother will remind me that I'm a great mom and should quit worrying (but that I do leave the house too much, she never left the house as much as it seems like I do - though I would point out we played with kids our age on our street and we did, actually, leave the house quite a bit more than I think she remembers). So there's that.

Yet Another Reason the Doodle Needs a Sibling, Stat

2011-07-26T17:36:00.000-04:00

Him: Mama, call papa (what we call my dad)

Me: Ok (dial phone)

Him: Hi papa, did Lala bring you any Captain Crunch?

Papa: I don't know, I'll go look (he goes to the pantry) No, I don't see any

Him: Do you want to go to the store and buy some and bring it to me?

Papa: Sure - I'll be there in a few minutes

And not 20 minutes later, papa shows up with a big box of Captain Crunch with Crunch Berries.

Crazy grandparents

Spoiled little boy

Jots and Tittles

2011-07-26T15:11:00.000-04:00

Today I shipped off four copies of my dissertation (on 24lb extra bright paper, as required. After making a special trip to the store to get said paper) to the binding office on campus. $200.

Then I uploaded my dissertation to ProQuest (I think it's ProQuest, that's what's sticking in my brain. Something like that, if not that.) $55

Then I filled out and submitted my application for degree. $75

Cause really, I haven't paid enough for this degree yet.

As Tim keeps reminding me though, 1) I'm finished (wheeeeee!) and 2) at this point, that's a drop in the bucket.

And hey, I can almost retire the smartification label.

Book Review: The Canary List

2011-07-25T15:56:00.000-04:00

The Canary List is a fast-paced, suspenseful novel that follows a young girl who can sense evil and the school teacher she turned to for help. Jaimie (the girl) sneaks out of her foster parent's house one night when she senses the evil in a man who came to the door looking for her. She flees to the house of her teacher, Mr. G. She runs again the next morning, unaware that the thanks he'll get for helping her include charges of impropriety and suspicion of murder. As he fights to get his life back, Mr. G. also tries to protect Jaimie and unravel a web of conspiracy in the Catholic church.

The characters in this novel are very believable and well written. The story is fast paced and exciting - the pages simply fly by. While the book itself is published by a Christian publisher, and there are definitely Christian themes, it's not a hit-you-over-the-head-with-salvation type of Christian novel (in fact, there's very little Christianity in it -- it deals with the Catholic church in much the same way that the DaVinci Code did - and I don't think anyone would classify that as "Christian fiction".) If you like suspense that dabbles with the supernatural, this is a fantastic read.

I received this book for review by the publisher, Waterbrook Press.

Book Review: Regret Free Parenting

2011-07-25T15:31:00.000-04:00

My sister sent me this through the Amazon Vine program because, apparently, I have too much angst about my parenting. (Her words.) This is fine, I'm all about reading parenting books - I figure I can learn something. In this case, I'm so very glad she sent it, because it is hands down the best parenting book I've read.

The main focus behind the book is becoming an intentional mom (and yes, really, it's much more geared toward moms. Dads could read it and get something out of it, but it really is designed to take some of the angst out of being the best mother you can be and all the second guessing that goes into that.) By intentional, the author means that we don't parent by accident or happenstance, but that we set up goals for how we want our kids to turn out and then parent according to a plan to meet those goals.

She also gets into how to be intentional about affirming and knowing your child, developing their emotional intelligence, developing respect (both ways -- they respect you, you respect them), the difference between being intentional and being controlling, and, what I think I loved the most, being intentional about depending on God as a parent. The author is both a psychotherapist (LCSW) and a Christian, so she merges psychological knowledge with Godly, Biblical advice and the result is something that just makes sense. It's also challenging and had me reevaluating places where I know I've been letting my intentions slip and just coasting. And I don't want to be a parent who seems detached and disinterested.

Even if you've read other parenting books, I highly recommend this one if you still feel there are things you could do better.

Internet Killed the Book-i-o-store

2011-07-22T14:43:00.000-04:00

Borders is closing its doors.

This is sad on many levels. First amongst them is that in the immediate vicinity of my house we have only a Borders. The next closest bookstore is about 30 miles away, which I'll grant you is not terrible, but I'm just not going to drive that far, realistically. I'm hoping that Barnes & Noble will realize that we no longer have a bookstore locally and open up (hey, maybe in the same store - it's a great bookstore location!) a branch here. (You know, it just occurred to me - we do have a Books-A-Million nearby...but it's in the mall. There's very little that's going to entice me to try and park at the mall, so really, it might as well not be there. Plus, Books-A-Million always seems so...junky.)

That said, today I zipped over after my eye doctor appointment (more on that in another post at a later date) to see what there was to see on the first day of their closeout prices. Everything is 10% off. Some things are 30% off, and a very few things are in between. But honestly? The discount they're giving as part of their closeout is still more expensive than Amazon. And that right there is, I think, the crux of the problem.

Unless someone needs a book immediately (and honestly, how often does that really happen?), it's worth your time and money to just go online. Even if you end up paying cheaper shipping (though seriously, how hard is it to get over $25 on Amazon to get free shipping? I never seem to have trouble managing that.), the cheaper prices online are worth the few day wait for your product.

So while I'm sad to lose a place to browse books and drink coffee, I can't honestly say it's going to impact my book buying habits much. Honestly, I've probably been largely to blame for the failure of Borders (and people like me - not just me individually, mind you. I buy books, yes, but not on that large a scale. Though Tim might actually disagree with that statement.) Over the past five-ish years, I've used the bookstore as a place to go and browse and flip through or read a chapter prior to purchasing online. Because to me, price is still king, and for whatever reason, the brick and mortar stores just aren't willing or able to match (or hey, beat!) the online price.

And now that I'm a Kindle junkie (I admit it, I'm a convert), there's even less reason to go and browse because I can download a sample before I buy. Plus, with Kindle, all I have to do is buy a bigger hard drive as I accumulate more books, hard drives are considerably easier to store than bookcases.

Farewell, Borders. I will miss you. Just perhaps not as much as I would have a few years ago. And I'll see you again before you're completely gone, in the hopes that what's left on your shelves will be 1) marked down in a more "going out of business" style and 2) worth buying after being miserably picked over.

It Is Hot

2011-07-21T16:35:00.000-04:00

I know, I know, it could be worse, blah blah blah. But it's 98 out there and with the humidity feels like 115. That's freaking hot, I don't care where you live.

Now, that said? The fact that I whine about the heat does not mean I don't care about the troops. I get that it's hot in Iraq and it's dangerous and so on and so forth, but can I just say that the new Facebook viral status message about the heat is really annoying? I'm grateful that there are people willing to go to hot places and be in harm's way so I don't have to - that really doesn't have anything to do with the fact that what I want to do more than anything else in the world right now is strip naked and lay on an iceberg.

Thoughts on Cheaters

2011-07-20T15:41:00.000-04:00

CalTech Girl posted a link to this article on Facebook yesterday. I had a rather long bunch of thoughts typed out in a comment on her link and then decided to delete them and just comment here, instead. Not sure why other than I really couldn't get all my thoughts out in one little comment box and didn't feel like spamming her link too much.

The article (if you're not interested in going over to read it) is the first hand account of someone who makes a relatively good living (around $60K/year) writing papers for college students. In other words, facilitating cheating. I'm not really sure how you get to the point that you have such a lack of moral fiber that you're willing to undertake this as your "career", but the author of the article is certainly not alone. There are numerous websites out there that offer this service - and more (for other types of assignments, not just papers) - so it's not as if one person quitting (which the author says he is) is really going to make a dent.

What was interesting to me is that this person feels that the faculty are really to blame for students cheating. I can sort of see the point, though I disagree completely, as he's never had a student inform him of their expulsion due to unoriginal work (though I tend to doubt that doesn't mean no one's been caught - they just simply failed to inform their cheat-provider of the situation, and really, why would you? When you're dealing with the poo-storm that comes from academic integrity investigations, I'm guessing an email to the person who helped put you in that situation is really going to be low on your to-do list priority.) Should there be more rigorous checking for cheaters though? Frankly, I'm torn.

In the programming classes I teach, I have at least 2 students each term who turn in work that they pay for. I know this because I know the top three places they're likely to go to place an order for their assignment and I watch the "recent orders filled" pages and compare the dates with the assignment wording and then download the solution myself in the 30 or so minutes that it's available to everyone online who's watching that particular thread. So I know that for between $20 and $50, people are cheating in my Java class. I turn each and every one of them in and give them a 0 for the assignment. I've only had one person fight me on it, and they didn't win. But honestly? The effort that takes takes away from productive work I could be doing and part of me doesn't see the point. Sure, someone will graduate without actually having learned what they're saying they've learned. And that's irritating and wrong, there's no two ways about it. But that person is also never going to get (or if they do get, hold) a job in the field. They don't have the skills. And that's going to be imminently clear when their employer first gives them an assignment. At which point, that student's life is going to suck more than would ever be caused by any little academic tap on the wrist that the administration chooses to give.

I hate knowing that my choosing to skip 2-3 hours of tracking down cheaters a week is contributing to an influx of morons into the job pool in my chosen profession. I don't like the fact that this person who has a nice smile and manner may beat out someone with better programming skills for a job initially because it looks like they're both equal in terms of knowledge because they bought their way to a grade. But the effort required to catch someone who goes that far out of their way to cheat is over and above what I have the time and inclination to do most days. When you parcel out my paycheck to an hourly rate, if you really take an honest look at my hours, it's well below minimum wage. You don't teach because you want to make millions. You teach because you love teaching and you love knowing that you've made a positive impact on students who actually want to learn. And at some point, teachers realize that they have to let go of wanting to impact every student - because there are, most likely, always going to be cheaters. If someone wants to find a way around actually doing their work, they're going to find it.

I think that most faculty are doing what they can to clomp down on cheaters while still focusing on the more important part of their job: teaching.

To me, the people who provide these "services" are the ones truly in the wrong. To say that they're simply filling a hole in the market is the same as saying drug dealers aren't to blame for kids who get hooked. If you took all the drug dealers out of play, there would probably still be some people desperate enough to find a way to get high, but you'd cut the population down by a huge margin, I suspect. In the same way, if these people with no ethics whatsoever were to develop a shred of conscience and get out of the business of making cheating easy and cheap, there would be less of it going on. Some people would still find a way, sure, but more of them would make their way to the faculty offices and lay it out and say, "Hey, I need help." And then teachers could do the job they want to do instead of all the babysitting that we end up doing.

"So, What's Next?"

2011-07-19T14:33:00.000-04:00

This seems to be the #1 question on the minds of everyone I've mentioned finishing my PhD to. It kind of makes me laugh - because honestly I don't have a ton of plans. I have ideas, certainly, but foremost among them is taking a little bit of a break from having huge expectations hanging over my head. It's pleasant to sit and realize that I really don't have anything that I *should* be doing just now.

Today has been a laid back day all around. In addition to my own lack of pressure right now, the kiddo pulled a stunt this a.m. that he's done a few times previously and I have had it with this particular behavior. So he's reaping some consequences and our plans for a trip to the library and to play at a friend's house have been canceled. We will probably still hit up soccer camp this evening, but that's going to be it for today. It's actually been really nice.

Soccer camp has, so far (and ok, fine, it's only been one night) been quite a lot of fun. The coach is very well suited to working with this age - he's just the right blend of silly and authoritative and he puts the skills into things that kids can understand. I'm very pleased - and the huge grin that the kiddo wore for the whole hour and fifteen minutes was exactly what I was going for when we decided to sign him up for this. I'm still on the fence about soccer in the fall in a true season type set-up. We're going to see what he/we think at the end of this week and go from there.

Is There a Doctor in the House?*

2011-07-18T10:43:00.000-04:00

Why yes, yes there is.

*No, not a medical doctor. Still making my students call me Dr. Sleepy, by gollly.

Oh Insomnia, I Have Not Missed You

2011-07-15T15:04:00.000-04:00

Last night was not a good night in the Sleepy home.

When Tim and I headed up to bed, it was after several scream himself awake interrupts already having been deal with, so we knew the doodle would not be staying in his room for long. So I climbed into bed, turned out the light, and lay there. Waiting. And inexplicably keyed-up.

The longer I lay there, the more keyed-up I got.

Tim drifted off to snore-land. And then I heard the pitter patter of little feet go right by our door, down the stairs, around, and down the basement stairs. So I got up to follow, wondering what he was up to. I made it to the top of the basement stairs as he either woke up or woke up enough to realize that we were in bed already. Commence terrified screeching that was nigh-unto hyperventillating.

I really don't need a sleep walker. I really don't.

But I think we might have one.

So I gathered him up, soothed him, and tried to put him back in his bed. No go. So I tried the bed on the floor of our room. Still no go. So I put him in the middle of our bed, got his toes tucked (he's very particular about how his toes need to be tucked), and climbed back into bed, thinking I was now surely tired enough that I would drop right off.

Not so much.

Remember this? Well, that is what occurred, except that I did actually get pushed out of bed completely once and almost completely several other times (I managed to catch myself at the last minute before falling). It was not what I would term "restful".

I guess in some ways it might be good that I was having trouble sleeping, it made it much less annoying when all I could do for most of the thing was hum to myself, "There were three in the bed, and the little one said..."

Bits and Bobs

2011-07-14T15:57:00.000-04:00

I have tickets to see Harry Potter on Saturday. I'm quite excited about this. I had thought to re-read the books before Saturday, but I really only had that thought yesterday and, while I did manage to suck down book 1 yesterday, I decided I didn't need to inhale the others quite that fast. So I may still add them to my "re-read this summer" pile, but I'm not going to force it.
Instead, I started No Good Deed, something I downloaded for free on my Kindle a while ago. So far it's really neat, though a bit of the premise reminds me of a TV show that I never really watched because it seemed vaguely stupid - I think it was called Early Addition? Anyway, in this book, the main character takes photos, but he gets pictures of things that are going to happen in the future and then he tries to fix things. But that's not really the focus of the book, so I'm ok with it. Like I said, it's good, and I'll likely finish it this afternoon or evening given how things are moving along.
My defense is scheduled for Monday at 10 a.m. If everyone prayed that went well, I'd appreciate it.
Also on Monday, in the evening, the doodle starts soccer camp. I'm kind of excited about this for him. Hopefully he'll enjoy it - he's pretty jazzed about the prospect now. I'll let you know after our first night how it goes.
I'm a little peeved at our lawn guy. He lives in the neighborhood, so I'm guessing he drives by to see how the front looks to determine if he should come mow. But the back grows WAY faster than the front and is, currently, a jungle. Making it really hard to play out there. But he hasn't come to mow because the front looks fine. I'm trying to wait til I'm less annoyed to call, because I thought we had signed a contract for him to come WEEKLY, not whenever the heck he decided our lawn needed mowing. I mean, I guess it's fine since we only pay when he comes, but I'd like to be able to put the pool back out and maybe leave it for a day rather than fill and dump and fill and dump so that he can actually mow. Cause if I leave it out, I guarantee he'll come. And then not mow the back cause the pool is out.
I should make Tim call. Everyone knows he's the nice one between the two of us.
A friend from college who is a serious math nerd posted a little tidbit about triangular numbers (vs. squares) and seriously blew my mind. I have never thought of square numbers actually forming squares (visually). I'm still chewing on this concept days later.
Project Runway is starting up again soon. I'm really rather stoked about this.
That's about it, honestly. I'm sure I could ramble on about other things, but, well, books to read and so forth.

It's Not Paranoia If You're Right

2011-07-12T08:49:00.000-04:00

Yesterday evening I had to go to the dentist for a quick check up 1-year post surgery (though I'm closer to 18 months post-surgery) on the gum biopsy that my dentist had decided I needed. On the positive side, I have beautiful teeth, there is no indication that there was ever any type of cyst there and everything looks as normal as can be. So that was good.

On the not quite so positive side, the child had a massive, on the floor kicking tantrum while they were doing my panoramic x-ray, so I think we're all glad that I don't have to show my face in there again in the foreseeable future.

Exploring the reason for the tantrum after we got back in the car, he decides that it's because he's hungry. As he did manage to pull it together and be good for 90% of the visit, I decided that I would go ahead and give him the very specific dinner he asked for and we went off to Panera for a grilled cheese sandwich.

While we were sitting there, him devouring his sandwich as if he'd not eaten in three days and me sipping some iced tea, the older gentleman (let's say mid-50s as a guess, not old, but not my age) sitting diagonally from us smiled and made a few little comments about the kiddo. I answered in my polite but brief way that is designed to make the person talking realize that conversation is not really what I'm about. But the man persisted. I didn't want to be outright rude (well, ok, I did. But I was raised better than that.) So we chatted for a few minutes about this, that, and the other thing and I started to feel like it was a one-way interrogation.

So I began making things up.

Honestly. I don't know whether it's me being incredibly suspicious and paranoid and this was a perfectly nice person just trying to have a conversation or if there was something weird going on. It got me thinking about the society we live in.

Growing up, my sister and I ran tame on our block. Our family knew all the families on both sides of the streets with kids in anywhere near the same age range. We knew which houses were ok to go to and which to avoid (there were really only 2). We also ran tame in the canyon that ran behind our backyard and led, after a rather steep descent, a gully, and an ascent, to the neighboring mesa. (How, with my abject fear of snakes it never occurred to me to be scared of running into same while playing out there is simply a testament to the protection of God, because I never saw any, though I know they were there.) Even still, the idea of not talking to strangers was firmly ingrained in my brain - it's just that there weren't a whole bunch of strangers to worry about.

Now? The idea of striking up a conversation with a random person at Panera makes me look for some wacky ulterior motive. Especially when they start in with questions about being from this area (though really, normal question), whether the kiddo is our youngest (again, pretty normal), and so forth. So was he just being friendly or am I right that it was odd?