Art on the Cheap

When we went to the National Gallery with my aunt a few weeks ago, our last stop was a stroll through the gift shop. My eye was drawn immediately to the Arts and Crafts tiles they had on display. I wondered how we'd missed that exhibit, and the best we could come up with is that it was in town when my mom was in chemo as she's the most likely to notice what's coming into town. (I pay very little attention, which is pathetic, I realize, but honestly, I count on mom to tell me when something I would want to see is coming.) Browsing through the items for sale I fell in love with just about everything, but ended up only getting a book of 30 postcards featuring Motawi tiles.

The furniture in our bedroom is mission style and I've been going this way and that regarding art in there because of it. I have Monet prints that used to hang over our bed (before we had real furniture) and I just was never happy with how they looked. So, looking at the postcards, I had sudden inspiration. With a quick trip to Michaels for frames, I was in business.

And thus I present to you, the bedroom art:

 Left:

 Middle:

 Right:

Happy.

New Shoes, Whose Shoes?*

I am a sandal-holic. I admit it freely. And not just any sandals...UGLY ones. Yes, I rock the Birkenstock. It's hands down the best part of being a stay at home mom - not having to wear work shoes. Still, every year around this time, as it starts to get wetter and chillier, I think to myself, "Self. You should get some shoes for winter." And every year around January, I'm still pulling on thick wool socks and rocking the 'stocks. 

And every year my mom and sister die a little inside when they see me. (And maybe Tim, too. Though he may also just simply not notice what I'm wearing on my feet.) It's not that they're fashionistas, it just seems they expect me to be one.

A couple of years back, right when I started the whole mom gig, I traded in my Birkenstocks during the winter for a low heeled boot. This was necessitated more by the fact that my new jeans were about an inch longer than I would usually wear them and, rather than hem them or roll them, I just got taller shoes. Problem fixed. But they were a pain to deal with because, hello? Heel. And also? Not slip on - you have to put everything down and zip them up and you can't wear the thick socks you were wearing around the house because they're a completely enclosed shoe so you need a more normal sock and that's not enough for schlepping around the house all day in the winter and, well, I just honestly can't walk long in even an inch of heel because the balls of my feet start to die.

Thus ended the boot. But I gave it the better part of a year. I really did try.

This spring I bought some cute flats for $20 at Target. I think I wore them four times before I donated them because they ate my heel. In fact, I still have the last remnants of the blisters from my last expedition in them trying to heal on my right heel.

This afternoon, while splashing around the car to get the kiddo into his seat and grumbling about how icky Birkenstocks feel when they get wet (cause it's really not pleasant), I determined that I was going to get some winter shoes this year. And so I have ordered these.

They may be too preppy. And I'm not entirely sure what you wear with them...do you wear socks? Do you not? I'm kind of thinking not, but I don't know. You obviously can't wear thick socks. Or white ones. Trouser socks? (Which, of course, I'm out of because they all died shortly after I quit working and I just embraced the fact that I didn't need them and have never replaced them.) Help?!

Now all I need are some new jeans and I'll be set for the winter. (My old jeans are fine, they're only about 18 months old. Except for the whole I don't actually have to unbutton or unzip them to put them on or off. Which is a good thing, mind you, but they're baggy to the point that they look really stupid. And also instead of being about 1" too long, they're about 5" too long because of how far down they slip. Thus, new jeans. Maybe I can find some for shrimps this go-round. )

*It's a riff on Fox in Socks, if you were wondering. "New socks? Two socks. Whose socks? Sue's socks! Who sews Sue's socks?" and so on and so forth.

Thoughts On Parenting

Our pastor came to our MOPs group this morning, as he does the first or second meeting each year, and spoke for a bit about parenting from the premise that he had set out to have the same conviction for parenting as he did for pastoring as he did for his marriage and as he did for life in general, all based on the Great Commandment (Love the Lord with all your heart, soul, and mind and love your neighbor as yourself.)

He then laid out the following principles in support of this:
1) Relationships -- you can't parent out of information, you parent out of relationship. Healthy relationships start with us. In our marriages and with our friends and mentors. We should create rules that encourage relationships.

2) Faith - Yes, you should make your kids go to church. But it needs to be consistent in your life as well. Families need to be in church together. Kids need to see their parents growing in faith over their lifetime, so they understand the continuous process of growth that they should be seeking. Also, faith shouldn't be simply defensive - geared toward making them "good kids", but it should be offensive, geared toward raising people who will go out and change the world.

3) Trust - If you say no, mean no. And don't make yourself the consequence (your anger, frustration, disapproval, etc.). If you don't mean it, don't say it. If you do say it, keep your promises.

4) Words - Encourage your children. Every day. Teach your kids to dream, because a dream can help you look beyond a circumstance. Hold others sacred - make your household a place of respect to everyone, even (or especially) those who annoy you.

5) Forgiveness - The home should be a place where forgiveness is given and also  a place where it is asked for. Don't let your parenting be a reaction to how you were raised, even if where you came from was horrible. Forgive your parents and raise your children from a clean slate. Avoid making vows of "I will never do that" based on past hurts - it only perpetuates the cycle.

Above all, be purposeful about the principles that guide your parenting.

I thought it was really well put. And while most was not new, there were a few things to chew on, and others that were timely reminders.

The Horns of a Dilemma

Rubber? Meet road.

There is a book I want to read and now, having two options, I am seriously on the fence about how to purchase it. See, I know I'm going to love it. I know I'm going to want to read it multiple times and bask in the joy of this particular prose flowing over me. The books in this series are not normal books with standard book pages all uniformly machine cut. They're that slightly off-white, thicker paper with the raggedy edges that make you feel less like you're reading a book and more like you've got a long letter from an old, dear friend in your hands. And I wonder if having it on the Kindle will do it a disservice.

Is the whole experience of the book going to be ruined by not having the nubby edges of the paper to run my thumb along as I read it? Am I going to miss the feel of the paper as I flip pages, greedily consuming the story? Will it somehow suck away a part of my enjoyment in the words to lose that tactile experience that has been a part of the previous episodes?

I just can't decide.

The Wee, Small Hours

I woke with a start this morning, heart racing, mouth dry, vestiges of whatever nightmare creature was chasing me still hanging fuzzily around the corners of my eyes as I squinted at the clock. Stealthily, I slid a toe over toward Tim's side of the bed, knowing that that contact would help steady things. And he wasn't there.

It wasn't late enough for him to have gone to work, so I jolted even more awake and slid out of bed to go see if I could find him. Not in the guest room. None of the lights looked like they were on downstairs, but that was my next destination, but I figured I'd peek in on the kiddo on my way past. And there, snuggled into the double bed that's still in that room, was Tim.

It being a work day today, last night was my turn to handle the baby if he woke. But honestly? I didn't hear a thing. Apparently it was bad enough that Tim decided to sleep in there. Which is now a trend of the past several days that is going to need to be nipped in the bud (though we're perhaps a tad past the bud at this stage) soon. It's his teeth - I know this - but the problem is that he also gets used to having someone in there and you have to start all over with the idea of him being ok sleeping through the night on his own.

I tried going back to bed but could tell it wasn't going to take. So I came downstairs to read some and check my email. And now it's late enough that the coffee should be brewing any minute now on its auto-timer. I guess Tim's not making his carpool today, since I haven't heard any stirrings.

And I feel bad. When it's Tim's nights and I hear the boy, I give Tim a nudge so he can go deal with it. And I totally expect that he'll do the same on my nights. Normally he does. But last night he didn't. So now, the fact that I slept deeply, at least for a little while, for the first time in several days means that I've hosed up his hours for the week.

Wife and mother of the year candidate, right here.

Does Not Inspire Confidence

On Tuesday, the doodle and I saddled up and made our way to the dentist's office for my semi-annual cleaning. He'd done pretty well on previous visits so I figured he'd hang out and color and life would be good. The visit was a bit overdue since in mid-August we got a note saying that our dentist had retired for health reasons (he'd had a heart attack 2 years-ish ago, and the dental practice was too stressful) and sold his practice. Pushing aside not understanding how being a dentist is stressful (though maybe it was the whole "own your own business" thing, which is certainly stressful - I guess I see all those comfortable, reclining chairs and think, how bad can it be?), I was skeptical about the new dentist. Not sure why...probably because change is scary.

So anyway, when I finally got around to making my appointment, I just took the earliest they had rather than trying to figure out when I could bestow the child on a neighbor. And he did great. And the appointment itself was great, other than the whole "you have two "pre-cavities" that we should just go ahead and take care of before they get deep."

Ok. Fine. So I set up an appointment for that on my way out and I was thinking next week but they were like, "How about Thursday at 9:15?" And I said yes, thinking that I had a friend who was likely to be able to take the kiddo (cause watching mommy get her teeth cleaned is one thing, watching mommy get fillings is another) as she's home most of the time as well.

But of course, she was busy on Thursday.

So yesterday we saddled back up, this time with the stroller and several books and other toys, and made our way back to the office. And we were about five minutes early but right at our appointment time, a new assistant came and took me back for bite wing x-rays. Now, I wasn't sure about this, because I had them in the spring and I'm not used to doing x-rays more than once a year, but I figured maybe they needed them for the fillings so ok, fine. (This clues you in that I've never really had fillings...I've had one other round of "pre-cavities" taken care of -- no numbing, no muss, no fuss. Ten minutes tops.) Then we were put back in the main waiting area. Twenty minutes later, as it was clear that my native was getting restless, I poked my head in the window and asked for an ETA. I was told another 15 - 20 minutes. At which point I was rather unhappy...so I asked what the hold up was. The hygienist was busy with another cleaning.

This was nice, but I still didn't really understand what that had to do with the price of eggs. So I asked why that mattered, as I was there for fillings and there was a pause and confused looks on their end. So I pointed to my chart (which was sitting on their desk) and noted that I had already been in, two days ago, for a cleaning. They looked, nodded, and I was taken back...and also slightly taken aback. Because apparently they thought I was late, even though I had been early.

Dear Right Hand, today we will be doing fillings on Beth. Signed, Left Hand.

So when the dentist came in, I asked him to look and indicate with his pick thingy which teeth he thought he was supposed to be working on, because I didn't actually trust them not to make this even more of a debacle and give me fillings in perfectly good teeth at this point.

He was distraught and apologetic. And he also went right to the correct places that I remembered from Tuesday. So I let things proceed.

And it was ten minutes, maybe fifteen, and I was done. Though I will say it's the roughest filling I've ever gotten and I'm not sure what, if anything I can or should do about it.

I'm using it as an excuse to eat almonds.

Growth

For the last year or so, I'd been on the hunt for a growth chart for the doodle. You know the thing, you stand up against it and mark your child's height at various intervals. But I was running into trouble finding something cute. Honestly...there weren't a whole bunch of options out there to begin with, and they all seemed rather bland to me. So, I enlisted my sister and her embroidery machine to make one instead. And it's darling.

It starts with Elmo, then proceeds to Bob and Larry, then on to Mickey Mouse, and ends with Spiderman. And the doodle just adores it. He stands up against it almost every time he passes by and we make a big show of leveling out his hair to see where he is. But after the first couple of days I realized we'd need some kind of rule for how often we actually whipped out the marker - so we decided on the 1st of the month.

When he scooted up to it this morning, my heart cracked a teeny bit when I noted that he had shot up another 1/2 inch. (Since July (when we started marking) he's been averaging about 1/2 an inch a month and, while I'm thrilled that he's growing (obviously)...he's turning into such a big boy!) Looking at my finger on the measuring tape and exclaiming with him about how tall he was getting, I looked at his long legs (he's a leggy little boy) and pulled him into my arms. He wrapped his arms around my neck and snuggled into my shoulder, and that little crack in my heart sealed right back up.

He may be my big boy...but he's always going to be my baby.

A Little Random For A Tuesday

I probably could string together a post on any of the following, but honestly, I meant to hit a few of them last week and never did. So...the random.

• Tim's company just sent out all their new health care options for next year. And by "all their options" I mean "their single option." That's right. Welcome to Obama-care, ladies and gents. Cause you now have no options.
• One of the big pretenses of the single health care option is "proactive health management" where they provide incentives for you to be healthy - with special notes that obesity and diabetes are national crises. With the underlying feeling being that people who have these two issues will not be tolerated/covered. It's a bit concerning as one with a family history of both (and, oh yeah, medical causes on both, not just gluttony, though no one really seems to admit that sometimes people get fat for reasons beyond their control.)
• The above two irritate me so much that I now remember why I didn't end up posting on them...I just have nothing positive to say, and there's really no point in getting worked up over it since it can't be changed.
• I went to Jen's jewelry open house on Friday and scored some Christmas gifts for my mom. It was a lovely set up and fun to see her for a few minutes. Even if the kiddo wanted to get down and touch everything.
• My mom's sister was in town visiting last week. I took them downtown and the 4 of us went to the National Gallery. I haven't done both wings in a good while and it was a lot of fun. The doodle seemed to enjoy looking at the pictures - and he seems to like the same things I do, which is nice. I'd hate to think I was raising someone who actually thought there was artistic merit to Roy Lichtenstein's work.
• The last was mostly kidding..though I will be the first to admit that Pop Art does nothing for me. I am mostly drawn to Impressionists and the Hudson River School, myself.
• The doodle did really well with a full day (and no nap) at the museum. He had a tough next two days as he recovered, but ...small price to pay for not annoying the other guests.
• I'm starting to really like the every-other Friday off thing Tim has going.
• Even with the longer other 9 days that necessitates.
• Today I am off to the dentist for a cleaning. Whee.

The Current Guaranteed Giggle At Our House

Sir Topham Hatt Has A Scary Round Head

Saturday, our trip concluded with the whole purpose of the exercise: a surprise visit to A Day Out with Thomas (the Tank Engine) at the Strasburg Railroad. We got up with the doodle awoke, had breakfast, got ready and checked out of the hotel, then toodled the 45-ish minutes to Strasburg from Hershey. Our Thomas tickets weren't until 11:15, so we figured getting there around 9:30 we could do all the other stuff first and then leave for home shortly after the Thomas ride.

We hadn't actually told the kiddo what we were doing. So as we drove, he asked what we were doing now, and we told him it was a surprise. Then he grinned hugely and said, "I get cake! And presents!" And this is what comes of having a little boy who is in love with Curious George. Because when Curious George gets a surprise, it's a surprise party. So clearly every surprise is a surprise party. We spent the bulk of the rest of the drive explaining that the surprise was his present. But he didn't really get it.

Still, as we got close, we went over some tracks, and that brightened his life. And then he saw the trains...and it was like the heavens opened so that joy could flood down upon us. He didn't even realize Thomas was there, he was perfectly happy just to get to ride a train. Any ol' train would do! But when he saw Thomas, he was so excited he could pretty much only jump up and down and sputter.

First up was the enormous tent of merchandise. If there is a Thomas flavored item that they did not have for sale, I will eat Sir Topham's Hat. It was insane. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your perspective) the prices were really no different than anywhere else, so all I got him was a travel mug (which I'd never seen elsewhere) and a Day Out t-shirt. But that was at the end of the day, because I sure wasn't going to cart it around - I just wanted to scope out the goods.

From there, we decided to get his picture with Sir Topham Hatt. So we stood in line for about 20 minutes, winding this way and that, before entering a train car where Sir Topham awaited. I expected a fat (padded or otherwise) bald man in a suit...instead, we were greeted with this:

So we set the kiddo on the steps in front of him, or, I should say, we tried to set the kiddo on the steps in front of him. But there was shrieking like you have never heard before. And tenacious clinging to my neck accompanied by sobs. So we left. As we did so, the photographer whispered, "Thank you for not trying to force the issue." And I had to wonder, are there really parents who are going to torture their child - even after a 20 minute wait in line - and try to make them take a photo when they are clearly almost apoplectic? After that thought, I also had to wonder...does anyone else notice the startling similarity between Sir Topham and the Pringles man?

Separated at birth? You decide...

So, after that, we did the little mini-train and the model train store and went and got a funnel cake (so he did get his cake, after all!) And then it was time to get in line for our ride on Thomas. And as that little blue engine chugged past, the little boy's eyes were as wide as saucers as he told us how he was riding on Annie and Clarabell (the two passenger cars Thomas usually pulls) and so on, and so forth. We climbed aboard and then Thomas pushed us backward down the rails for about 10 minutes, then stopped, then started chugging forward back to the station. For the adults it was...$1 a minute. For the kiddo, it was heaven.

We decided to see what the line for a photo with Thomas was - and that moved like a well-oiled machine. And our photo turned out quite well, I think (it's now my profile pic on Facebook, if you know me there). From there, it was another little kiddie ride, then we went ahead and went on the longer train ride (45 minutes on the usual Strasburg train). And honestly, I think if we'd just done that, he would've been perfectly content. As it was, it was like icing on an already iced ice cream cake.

Busses and Chocolate

Tim has been off this week and so while we spent the first bit of the week at home (and I still utterly refuse to use the word "staycation" - except I guess I just did, but whatever) with a fun day with the larger family (Monday), a trip to the zoo downtown (Tuesday) and a random day rattling around the house and being semi-productive (Wednesday), yesterday we packed up our bags and headed for points north.

I am working on reminding myself that Vacationing the Sleepy-way (kind of like training dogs the Woodhouse way, for those who grew up on PBS like I did) is not a bad thing, that it is, in fact, relaxing. And that I should not be freaked out that we had not yet left the house at 10:30 in the morning. (Actually, I think we were out of the house at 10:19, so we did beat 10:30, but really.) As Tim pointed out, there was no traffic. I might have replied that yes, in the middle of the freaking day that tends to be the case. Regardless, we deposited the doggie at my mom's and then headed even further north to Gettysburg.

My thought, on choosing Gettysburg, was based on vague recollections from previous visits that included lots of wide open space to run, cannons and monuments to climb, and other semi-child friendly things that would not bore the old people. We arrived just in time for lunch (or just after the optimal time for lunch, but before the melt-down of epic proportions because the two year old is hungry, dang it!) and hit the Gettysburg McDonald's. I highly recommend this establishment. First, it's McDonald's, so the children in your life will get a cool toy and nuggets of pressed white meat that they claim is chicken. The adults will get their usual preference along with the standard dose of heartburn. However! If you have recently been cooped up in a car for about 2.5 hours, they have a most excellent (made so by being incredibly clean) play area (inside!) for anyone under 48 inches. (On seeing this sign, Tim made sure to point out that there was something I was actually too tall to participate in. I might have hit him.) Once said foodstuffs were consumed, we headed back to the Battlefield Visitor's Center.

And my how that's changed since I was last there. (Granted, it's been...15 years? But honestly.) We debated our options and the tolerance of a two-year-old who had napped a bit on the way up but who we felt probably needed to be treated a bit like you'd treat a box full of potentially unstable material prior to thorough examination by a bomb unit. So we decided on a trip out to Eisenhower's house (and farm - we were putting a lot of stock in the, well, stock, to entertain the kiddo). We chose well. Because you get to ride a bus out there. Can you fathom the joy of riding on a bus? It was as if we had entered the throne room of the Queen and were being addressed by name and told we might, should we so desire, call her Liz. Honestly, if we could have simply ridden the bus for the next several hours, the kiddo would have been fine.

So we bounced over to the house in the bus, the doodle yakking away (loudly, despite several attempts to get him to hush) and I had that nagging suspicion that the over-the-shoulder indulgent smiles we were getting from other bus riders were not so much in the "Oh he's adorable and reminds me of my <insert relation here> that isn't here with us" and more along the lines of "Really? You brought your two year old? Have you lost your mind?" But we sat in the back, away as much as possible, and you could still hear the tape so...I'm going to say we weren't all that annoying.

Once there, they shuttle you into the barn for a little babble by the Park Ranger. This was great as there are tractors in the barn and a tractor is right next to a bus ride in the joy that it brings the doodle. So he exclaimed loudly about the tractor and how he wanted to ride it and was it like papa's tractor until Tim took him to run under the crab apple trees until it was actually time to go into the house. Inside the house, the Park Ranger babbles considerably less and there is lots to look at, which meant that every two seconds, we had the following conversation:

Him: What's that?
Me: That's a <insert item> owned by President Eisenhower (Or Mrs. Eisenhower if it was hers).
Him: Oh...what's that?

Rinse. Repeat.

But he did enjoy it - particularly when he realized that he an Mamie share a deep and abiding love of all things pink.

We wandered the grounds briefly after the house tour, then hopped on the bus! for our return trip. At which point we drove to the parking lot of the old visitor center and rambled among the cannons and monuments clustered there until it was clearly time to head hotel-ward.

Since I was trying to plan ahead, our hotel is actually in Hershey (about an hour more north) as it was our destination for today. We stopped at Chili's on the way then found the hotel and the doodle hit the hay while Tim and I found our way to the free wi-fi and hung out for the evening. I will say, I heartily recommend the Hampton Inn in Hershey should you ever be up this way. (Of course, the Hampton Inn is my hotel of choice, honestly. Given my druthers, I'll pay the bit extra that you do there in order to get the way above what you pay for quality I feel you get there. The one in Hershey though goes even above what I've come to expect from a Hampton Inn. It's just delightful.)

This morning after our breakfast downstairs, we headed off to the Hershey's Chocolate World. It's about as awesome as that sounds. It being after Labor Day, Hershey Park is no longer open on the weekdays, but the Chocolate World is still open 9-5, and it was plenty to occupy us for a slightly extended morning. We first hit up the 3-D History of Hershey movie. This is basically an excuse to have singing and dancing chocolate bars of all varieties jumping out of the screen at your for 30 minutes. Along the way you also find out that Mr. Hershey started out selling caramels, sold his caramel business for $1Million in order to buy up every farm in this area he could (for the milk cows, you know) in order to start his milk chocolate business. I'd say, all things considered, he did the right thing. During the extravaganza of singing and dancing chocolate, you also get sprayed with water, snowed on, and immersed in bubbles falling from the sky...so kind of like the Revolutionary War exhibit at Mount Vernon, but with a happier subject matter. And you get a handful of chocolate as you leave.

Next up was a "chocolate tasting." This is a bit of a lecture (made fun by having "live satellite feeds" from a jungle explorer who is a cross between Inspector Gadget and The Librarian...basically just really goofy) about where the cacao comes from and how the plants growing around it influence the tastes you get from it. Then you actually taste the chocolate (look, listen, smell, melt on tongue) and it actually does have different notes. The best part of this for the doodle was being encouraged to "froth" the chocolate milk (our first taste) by blowing bubbles in it with the straw. Surprisingly, that does actually make a difference in taste (it's considerably better frothed...so no more telling your kids to stop!)

Then we rode the factory tour ride - this is a cute little "It's a Small World" meets Hershey's type ride - complete with annoyingly catch song that haunts your for the rest of the day! (We actually did this twice, as it was a big hit with the kiddo.) This walks you through the process of chocolate from bean to bar - and it's really well done and rather interesting. (Plus it's the one free thing - so it's good to do a few times to get that free chocolate at the end and make you feel like you're getting your benefits!)

Each ride/exhibit/whatever dumps you into the largest chocolate-based gift shop you have ever seen. So of course, we ended up buying quite a bit of chocolate. Is it different than what you can get at the store? Some - might be size or packaging. But basically the novelty is that it's from the factory. What can I say...we were there, it was there...now it's coming home with us.

At that point, we took the sugar-hyped-but-still-rubbing-his-eyes kiddo back to the hotel for a nap...currently on-going. I think after nap may be some time at the hotel pool before supper (seriously considering seeing if we can just have a pizza delivered) and bed.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow is the whole point of this little wandering extravaganza...our Day out with Thomas. Choo-choo!

A Week of Kindling

So I've had my Kindle a bit over a week and have read several things on it. By and large, I love it. But last night I hit a snag that is probably more common than people will admit and it made me pause. See, I was reading a relatively suspenseful book. And what usually happens when I hit a point in a book where I just have to know how things turn out (because I can't stand hanging in through a book, only to find a completely unsatisfactory ending), I flip to the last couple of chapters, see how it turns out, then return to my previously scheduled reading.

This does not ruin it for me. It does, in fact, make it more tolerable.

I also flip to the end if I'm stalled out and slightly bored and trying to figure out if it gets better.

Yes, I'm a chapter flipper, I admit it.

But as I searched for how to do this on the Kindle I was hit with a wave of panic. It cannot be done! There is no "skip ahead a bit, Brother Maynard" button anywhere on there. Sure, you can hit the page turn button a hundred thousand times in quick succession, but that's just not the same. (Plus I'm guessing the next page button really isn't designed for such treatment.)

So, ok, maybe the Kindle will make an honest reader out of me...but I don't have to like it.

The only other snag I've hit, and this is much less annoying (in comparison) is the lack of page numbers and chapters. I get that the "page" on the kindle isn't the same size as the page on a book and so they can't use the same numbers, blah blah blah. But apparently I draw comfort from knowing I'm on page x of y and that there are only z more pages til I'm finished and so on and so forth and the little percentage status bar isn't cutting it for me.

Even with that? I still love the thing. It's just not going to replace a real book any time soon.

Happy Labor Day

The laboring around the Sleepy home is drawing to a close.  Tim has mowed. I have cleaned. The doodle is playing.

Now for a trip to the pet store for new fish and my folks over in the evening for a grill extravaganza.

No Good Deed...

There are days when I honestly believe the #1 problem with teaching is the students. I swear to you I have the biggest crop of whiners this term that I have ever encountered.

I was generous to one student whose program worked but was implemented essentially completely wrong. And by completely, I mean that had you ever done this in "the real world" people would assume you didn't understand how to code. But since they had the right output and they kind of demonstrated what I was looking for them to demonstrate understanding of, I only took off one point. Next day? Nasty gram in my email ripping me up one side and down the other about "inconsistencies between what I want things to be and the rubric." Because they misunderstood why the ONE point got taken off. So I explained further. And erased the part about how I felt like going back and giving them the grade they earned according to the rubric. Cause honestly, they *should* have gotten about a 50%.

Another student whined and complained All. Week. about how they didn't understand how to use the particular coding structure we needed to use in this assignment. Could they come to office hours? No. Could they send me their code and we could go back and forth over email? No. So they did it a different way. I reminded them that they needed to do it the required way and sent all but the answer to them with explanations. Insert more complaining and veiled threats with the turned in project. Which used the proper structure. Really? You got it to work the right way with the right structure and you're still kvetching?

I guess I should just be glad they care about their education? Or at least, they care about their GPA...not sure they actually care about *learning* anything.

So There We Were

Friday night, I got my Kindle. And little beams of light descended from the heavens and I heard an ethereal "AhhhOooooAhhh" sound (no, not like a dog whining, think angelic chorus) and I set it up and downloaded a book or four (really it's like 20 - but I only paid for 2 of them) and it was good. Of course, I had to go to a meeting Friday night as I've signed up to help with AWANA at church, so I didn't get a chance to actually read anything til much later in the evening.

The AWANA helper meeting was...about as useful as any of these meetings ever are. I guess if you don't know how to do anything more complicated than make sure you leave the house with clothes on every day, then a meeting like this would be useful. But for the rest of us, it really is just a waste of time. Please...just send an email! I want to volunteer, I do! But if you're going to make me sit through 3 hours of mind-numbing insanity, the likelihood of me signing up again diminishes dramatically. On the other hand, it was nice to realize that, despite all the other changes over the last 25 years, AWANA still has the same impossible to sing, tuneless theme song they had when I was in it. So there's one less thing to go memorize.

Saturday dawned clear and sunny and Tim was off to work. The doodle was less than excited with this eventuality as he looks forward to Saturday mornings with daddy. Still, we went out and ran errands (got the dog groomed, that kind of thing) and ended up with the relatively firm thought that we need an aquarium. I kinda sorta think I know where I'll put it - and I'm not thinking a crazy-big one, just something small with a few pretty tropical fish in it. Honestly, we're considering GloFish, cause they're super neat and bright. And really, what's not to love about a genetically engineered fish?

I read The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake Saturday night while Tim played XBox. It is...a very odd book. The story is interesting, but you keep waiting for the author to get to the point. And she never really does. At the end of the day, it's like a drawn out vignette about a girl with a strange (and basically useless) special ability and an incredibly dysfunctional family. She starts the book with both and by the end, she's really not any different, other than being older. Honestly, I'm so boggled by the non-plot that I can't really decide if I liked it or not...because really, to decide that I did or didn't like it seems like an awful lot of unwarranted effort. The most notable thing, is that by the end of the book, my day-old Kindle had developed a rattle.

Apparently Kindles are not intended to rattle. So I shot an email off to Amazon about what to do and went to bed.

After church on Sunday, I got an email from Amazon saying that they only deal with Kindle concerns over the phone (this in direct contrast to the website that clearly states that you should contact them via email to save time) so I dialed them up and with amazing ease had a return label and a shipping tracking number for my replacement.

I also ended up making a Mary Kay delivery for my sister (since having no feet makes it tough to get out and about to do such things) while Tim went to her house to help my brother-in-law move all the furniture out of their dining and living rooms. Because, clearly, when you have someone break both their feet, this is the time to decide to get hardwood floors installed. (I do kind of see the decision making process, it just also seems like one more big pain in the midst of a whole bunch of other big pains currently going on.)

Monday was errands with the doodle. It's all kind of a blur - so that must mean nothing scintillating happened. Which I guess is good given yesterday.

Yesterday, at about 8:15 am, I arranged with my sister that I would drop the doodle at a friend's around 11:30 then go to her house and pick her up in her van and take her up to get her food surgery. Her hubby couldn't do it as he needed to be home for the floor installers. Who were coming at 10. Questioning the timing of this, specifically how one rolls a wheelchair out of the house when the floors have been ripped up, there was a hmmm, then a comment that since they hadn't called yet, they were probably going to be late anyway, so it would work out. I decided after we hung up that I should probably go get ready anyway.

As I was putting on my makeup (around 9:20) my sister called back. The floor people were there, could I come now? Sure. Why not? So I did a slap-dash job of my hair, threw clothes on the kiddo and we drove down to her house. She has a spare carseat for her car, so I transferred the kiddo to that, and we took her car up to drop him off at my friend's house for the day about 2 hours earlier than I'd planned. She was cool with this, thankfully. Then we toodled up to my mom's house to drop my sister's dog. And after sitting in the driveway chatting with mom (with the car running) for a bit, we took her to the hospital to get her all set. I hung out til my folks came (after my mom's doctor appointment) then headed home.

This was the most mini-van driving I've ever done (my sister's car is a mini-van.) Previous to this, I'd been thinking that our next car should probably be a mini-van. Now...not so sure. While I was more comfortable driving it than I have been in the past for little jaunts here and there it's still just awfully big...and it's hard to see all the various corners. And while there was only one near issue (that I didn't mention to my sister, so let's keep that on the down low, shall we?) It was an issue that wouldn't have been an issue in my VUE. Plus, let's be real...with just one kid (even if we do end up with one more) do we really need a minivan? Moot point, and all that, as for now my car is doing great. But it's something to mull.

I got back to my sister's house, switched cars, hit the post office and the library briefly and then zipped to pick up the doodle at the sprinkle park near my friend's house (she was there, obviously). He didn't even notice I existed for the first 30 minutes I was there. Mama can't compete with the sprinkle park, apparently. But it was good that he had fun. Then he needed to eat, so we came home and he had dinner and while Tim ordered pizza for us, I scooted upstairs to change the laundry I started before dashing out of the house in the morning.

Only to find the washer full of soapy water and soggy clothes. We fiddled a bit, then Tim added "call repairman" to his list of evening to-do items. They said they'd be here between 8 and noon today. He just called (it's 2:30) and said I'm next on his list, so he'll be here in about an hour.

At the end of the day, my sister's surgery went well. They were able to do the repair without any bone grafts. The hardwood got installed and my brother-in-law is pleased with how it looks (no one else has seen it). The washing machine man is, at least, still coming today. I got my new Kindle (yesterday evening). And other than being incredibly cranky all day so far, the doodle is no worse for wear. For these small things, may we be eternally grateful...but for now, I'm feeling wrung out and in need of a few days of peace.