Paper Napkin

All's well that ends well

I married a hypochondriac. A lovable, funny hypochondriac, but a hypochondriac none the less.  For the last month he's been dying of colon cancer. He went to his doctor, who ran a bunch of tests, and found nothing wrong. The doctor wouldn't give him a colonoscopy, because it hasn't been 5 years since his last one. So he went to a GI specialist, who scheduled a colonoscopy and an endoscopy.

Now it's not that there's nothing wrong with Aaron. He does have a hiatal hernia, and some issues with his innards. But he most definitely does not have cancer. Nor has he had cancer the other 82 times he's been convinced he had cancer.

So Thursday night we had a prep party. This is where we all stand around in the kitchen while he drinks his disgusting prep liquid, and make poop jokes. Aaron sings a rousing rendition of  "I like to Move It" (see I told you he was funny) and I put the portable DVD player in the bathroom so he can watch Seinfeld during his long stay in the john.

Friday I drove him to the hospital, and picked him up with many happy drugs in his system. I love happy drugs. I wish I had more occasions to take them. Hey, maybe that's why he goes to the doctor so often, so he can have all those procedures where they give you happy drugs. After receiving $1000 in medical bills last month, I need to tell him it would be cheaper to score them on the internet.

Unsurprisingly, he was clean as a whistle in more ways than one. No polyps, diverticulosis, or other UIO (Unidentified Intestinal Objects). After the happy drugs wore off I gave him the happy news.

    "Wow, I thought I was dead."
    "I know."
    "I was sure I had cancer."
    "I know honey. You've been sighing when you lie in bed at night, a lot. I knew you were wondering if your life insurance policy was adequate."
    "Yeah, I was. But, wow, I'm OK."
    "Does this mean we can stop talking about bowel resections and colostomy bags?"
    "For now."
    "Until the next time you get cancer?"
    "Yeah."

I then had to delicately broach the subject of possibly cutting back on his visits to his team of medical experts for a while, because we're going through money like it's water. It sounds a little cold when you ask someone NOT to go to the doctor, but the kids and I need our teeth cleaned, and I really DO have cancer. Nothing to worry about, just some places on my face where I need to have Mohls surgery. My doctor in Ohio told me a year ago I needed to have them done. Yeah, I'm kind of the opposite when it comes to going to the doctor. My epitaph will read "But I'm not sick!" and his will read "Now do you believe me?"

Another slice of our life.

I'm not a lean, mean, highly functioning machine these days. I'm feeling pretty blech and procrastinating a lot. But pretty soon here I'll pull my crap together, and be able to string some thoughts into pithy sentences. In the meantime I am having fun with my new video camera. Sometimes watching videos on other people's blogs makes me twitchy. not sure what that's about, but I think part of it is the time factor, so I promise not to make a video that's more than 70 seconds. I thought I'd film what our drive home is like. The film quality isn't the best, because I was holding the camera over my shoulder, and obviously I couldn't watch the lens angle and the road, and I figured you didn't want a film of my van running into a tree, although ultimately that might be more interesting.

70 Seconds of Life

The drive home from Sheryl on Vimeo.

Steering Clear

This morning I drove the kids to school. We have a "neighborhood" school which means that there's no bus service, because everyone lives within a mile of the school. As I turned on to the street the school is on, it was a day like any other. A bright sunny day. All blue skies, and sunny, with the sun shining sunnily, hanging like a giant gold disco ball in the sky. Did I mention it was sunny?

I stopped at the stop sign, waiting to turn left, as a mother and her child crossed the street.

"Hmm," I thought to myself, "They're not supposed to cross the street without a crossing guard."

I gently pressed the gas pedal and eased into the intersection thinking to myself, "I wonder where the crossing guard is today, that's odd, and OH MY GOSH, THAT IS THE CROSSING GUARD RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY BUMPER, AND IT MIGHT BE A GOOD TIME TO STEP ON THE BRAKE NOW BEFORE I KILL HER."

The sun was so bright, and was right in my eyes, and I totally did not see her standing ten feet from me. Her back was to me because she was, you know, helping small children across the street. Thank the Lord I was only going a half a mile an hour, or my morning would've ended quite differently. I rolled down my window, and began to profusely apologize for ALMOST KILLING HER, and explained, that no, I have no deep seated hatred for crossing guards! Some of my best friends are crossing guards! It was the sun! THE SUN, I TELL YOU! She took it rather well, all things considered.

Emily, who is in the throes of preadolescence, and is embarrassed if I hum in the grocery store, was mortified. But probably not as embarrassed as she would be to see me in one of those orange jump suits on visiting day.

What are you doing New Year's Eve?

I know, I'm behind on my gratitude list. I've been so busy I've barely had time to Twitter! We had an absolutely wonderful Christmas. So wonderful in fact, I think we're going to stay home every other year. We went to church on Christmas Eve, and I love singing carols and hearing the Christmas story read from the Bible. Then we came home and had our traditional breakfast for dinner. I made quiche with hash browns instead of crust, yum! Will woke up at 6:00 on Christmas morning, we opened gifts, puttered around with them. I made red and green pancakes for Christmas breakfast, puttered around until about one when we went over to friends' house to spend the afternoon and have Christmas dinner. 

Then I cooked and cleaned my butt off for the next two days to get ready for the open house we had yesterday. It went really well. Although I'm not sure it was the best time of the year to have an open house since so many people were traveling or sick. But we had a really good time. I served

• Asparagus wrapped in Prosciutto (I altered the recipe and used Pepper Boursin cheese, really added some zing.)
• Chick Pea and Roasted Pepper Salad (I used basil instead of mint, and added 1/2 a red onion.)
• Marinated Grilled Shrimp
• Stuffed Mushrooms
• Buffalo Chicken Dip with tortilla chips
• Christmas Balls
• And these adorable penguin olives, around a cheese-cube igloo.

Sangria for the grown ups and punch for the kids. I like to cook new things, so these were all new recipes. None of them were absolutely fabulous, but they were all pretty good.

Other than making yule log cake for New Years Eve, I'm not doing any extra stuff this week, whew!

I want to wish each of you a happy, happy New Year. Thanks you so much for reading my blog. Especially since I took half the year off. :oP I really appreciate all of you, and am down-right fond of so many of you. Thanks for writing your own blogs; I love reading about your lives.

Oh I'm on to you time. I see you you trying to slip by, so that it's been 10 days since I've posted. You'd like it to be another month before I notice, wouldn't you, you scoundrel.

This morning giant fluffy flakes of snow are flying outside the window. I have filled my children's tummies with pumpkin waffles, and sent them off to school in boots and coats and mittens. The house is clean, and the laundry is mostly done, which means it's clean and sitting in the baskets.

I find myself really thankful these days. The economic news is really scary, but for today, we have a nice warm house. I can take a hot bath whenever I want. Our pantry and fridge are filled with good things. We have extras like internet, satellite TV, and Gameboys, and the occasional tickets to a Nugget's game. There's this place called the public library, where I can go and borrow as many books as I want. Both my parents are still alive. I have a few good friends. I wish I had more, but since having kids, I don't seem to be able to make friends the way I used to. I accept that though. Our family gets along, and enjoys each other's company 90% of the time, which I think is pretty darn good.

So, yeah, I'm doing pretty well. How are you?

V for Vick-tory!

So the lovely Angie of All Adither and Half-Assed Kitchen commented yesterday that her mother in-law sent her and email claiming that rubbing Vicks Vapor Rub on the soles of your feet would quiet a cough. Let me tell you, by yesterday I was so tired of coughing, if someone told me I needed to juggle puppies while eating souvlaki, I would have done it.

So I ran right out and got some Vicks, and treated myself so some extra comfy slipper socks, and went to work. I rubbed the Vicks all over the bottom of my feet and slipped on my new socks. It was about 10:00 and I was coughing pretty badly. In a few minutes, low and behold my cough had subsided.

Now that could be just coincidence, or the placebo effect, who knows. While I was enjoying some cough-free time, I clicked over to Snopes to look up this remedy for soothing a cough to see what they had to say, which is, maybe it works and maybe it doesn't. But! My coughing was practically non-existant, until about 2:00, when I started coughing again, and applied some more Vicks to my feet. Voila! Once again, in a few minutes, my cough was gone.

I still felt a tickle in my throat off and on throughout the day, but I didn't feel that overpowering compulsion to cough-- that feeling that if you don't cough, your body will pop like a party popper, spewing confetti sized pieces of yourself all over the room, AND WHO'S GOING TO CLEAN THAT UP, MISTER?

Of course the real test would come at night, when my cough is the worst. I've been sleeping sitting up, propped up by 8 frillion pillows, in an attempt to curb my cough, so I decided I would throw caution to the wind and try to LIE DOWN (such a luxury!). I applied some more before bed time, and then nestled in my bed. About 15 minutes later the coughing started. Uh oh, I had wanted to report that it was a miracle cure, but no such luck. I piled the pillows back on my bed, and settled in sitting up. And I am please to report that I only woke up coughing once, reapplied, and the rest of my night was quiet.

I also rubbed some on Emily's feet, who has a milder cough, and didn't hear a peep out of her all night.

Hooray for Vicks!

Filler diller

I've got a lot of work to do for a class I'm taking, so most likely I won't be posting this week, and I really don't want to leave that last post up all week, it's just too too sad. So, as per my MO, I will throw up some fluff to distract us. I've got to get my kids in the shower, so it'll have to be something quick. Hmm, let's see... Oh I know, the weird stuff I've bought on eBay! Like most things in my life I'm cyclical about eBay. I go through spurts when I'm never on, and spurts when I buy a lot of stuff. I've been a member since May '03, and only bought 61 items, so you can see, I'm not a nut or anything, but sometimes eBay comes in handy. To wit, in the last month I have bought:

• an incubator. We're going to raise quail for Emily's science fair project, starting from the eggs, which are being shipped from Alaska of all places.
• a tin wind-up toy (which I hope will be an infusion of cheer for a friend).
• 2 pairs of ice skates for the girls, because I already spent their college fund on the lessons, I'm not buying the skates new.
• a half-zip hoodie for Will, because it's the only kind of hoodie he'll wear, and they don't make them anymore, that I can find.
• sheets (1000 count, new, sage) because the other day Will a massive bloody nose in our bed,and it looked like someone was murdered in their sleep. No amount of peroxide and cold water would do the job, so we threw the buggers out.
• a crockpot, to replace the one I used as a petri dish

Bought anything interesting lately?

Bag lady

The kids started school last week, and they all love it. The school is great, and it's only a mile away so we've been walking, which is nice.

Listen dudes, it's been a rough couple of weeks. My brain is doing some weird loop-de-loops, to the point that I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up with an exoskeleton, and a segmented abdomen, ala Gregor Samsa. So while I'm trying to figure out which end is up, I'll be posting fluff. Like this!

Isn't she a beauty? I bought her yesterday, as a bit of retail therapy. I'm very picky about my purses. They must fit comfortably over my shoulder; they must have external pockets. They must be wide, but not too tall; the opening must be big enough so I can see Everything. I like interior pockets, but not too many. I have a lot of stuff, and often a library book, so they have to be big enough to store all my crap. This bag definitely fits the bill. Plus I think with the coloring, I can carry it year round! Hey, while I'm off thinking so much that my brain starts to smoke, why not take a look at my old collection of what bloggers keep in their purses!

Sunset #1

One of the things I've really enjoyed about moving back to the southwest is the sunsets. I grew up in Albuquerque, where they have the most beautiful sunsets. I've missed them so much. No other part of the US has sunsets like this area of the country. Colorado sunsets aren't as dramatic as Arizona or New Mexico sunsets, but I'll take 'em. I snapped this on the back deck, and every time there's a wowzer, I think I'll post it.

I remember many times growing up, when we were driving home, my mom would pull over to the side of the road to watch the sunset fade. Sunsets have a bell curve. They build and build, their colors growing more intense, they crescendo, and then start to fade. Like the sky is making some brief but grand announcement.

Resistance is futile

Hello, hello! Long time no read. Since last we met I did the solo parenting thing for 5 months, packed up our entire house, reunited with Aaron, moved the whole clan to Colorado, and turned 42.

Our house sold to the very first people who looked at it, which is a bona fide miracle. And they actually offered us what we asked, which is unheard of! Unfortunately by the time all was said and done (less improvements, closing costs, and realtor commission) we lost several thousand dollars, but believe me, it could've been worse. Much worse.

Now we live in, what those of you who enjoy ticks and poison ivy refer to as, The Great Outdoors. I am more of a Great Indoors sort of a person, but Aaron thinks he's died and gone to Disneyland. In fact, the mountain? Owns my husband. He's quickly corrupting Emily and Will, who think climbing mountains is preferable to waving at the mountain from the air conditioned living room.

Recently I've come to the realization, while standing in the shadow of the mountain, as it looms large over our recreational activities, like a Borg collective, that if I want to see my family on the weekends, I must be assimilated.

Since I'm really, really out of shape, as well as being unaccustomed to the high altitude, I've been trying to get acclimated by taking the kids for hikes in the mountains where half the walk is uphill. I let Will and Emily set the pace, and decide when we turn around. I have to admit though, the view is pretty nice.

I'm sending you all cookies.

Okay, first of all, you guys rock! Thank you so much for offering ideas about how to embarrass myself, because I got on the treadmill tonight at 9:30, and nothing else, short of a very large sum of money, could have gotten me to walk tonight. So in lieu of sending me buckets of cash, thank you for helping me exercise! I will post a link to my exercise calendar on Saturday night, and you can see 5 lovely gold stars, and what embarrassment I avoided this week.

Second, I have way to much to do tomorrow. Several deadlines for work tomorrow, which I might not be able to (but somehow will)  finish by the time we go to church at 5:00. On Wednesdays I volunteer at the girls' school, and this week I also volunteered to make some apple-laden treat for Johnny Appleseed's birthday. Why? Why did I do that? I mean, come on, Johnny Appleseed? What's he done for me lately? All I had to do was send in an apple with my kid. I was home free, and then I was all, oh wow, I could make apple bread, or apple cookies! I don't even like apples that much. Then on Thursday I have to send in cupcakes for Haley's birthday, so basically if you need me I'll be in the kitchen. I'm dying to go to bed right now, but instead I'm burning the midnight oil, for Johnny.

A rip roaring post you'll never forget!

Sheesh, what a weekend. My house has been filled with children, both morning and night. Thankfully at the moment the house is quiet because my kids are at other people's houses. (Or they were when I started this post. Now they're in bed.) I've been having a lot of anxiety/depression something-or-other syndrome this weekend, which consists of me not thinking about moving, and sighing, a lot. Maybe it's SAD and I need to pull out my lightbox, I dunno. I don't even realize I'm sighing, and then I'll hear myself, and realize I've been doing it all day. It's my go-to outlet for anxiety, I guess. Why am I telling you this?

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Hey, those of you who read my sidebar, do you like the new format for my book reviews, or did you prefer when I posted my mini-reviews of the last three books I read in the sidebar? I just thought this new widget was kind of cool because you can comment on the books I'm reading and my reviews. Of course the downside is you have to click through, which, you know, on the internet is the equivalent of running a marathon or sewing your own clothes.

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I made Jiffy Pop popcorn today, for the first time ever! I have to say it was very anti-climactic after all those commercials in the 70s built it up so.

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Several of you emailed me to ask how I bust my cycle with Haley. I don't know if this will help anyone, but this is how I down-shift my inappropriate anger:

• take a time out
• instead of laying into her, I give a spontaneous compliment about something related (I love how you know exactly what you want, that's really going to serve you well.)
• sometimes I whisper-- it helps me be gentler
• I speak to her like she's someone I've just been introduced to (this little mind game helps A LOT to shift me into polite gear)
• pray
• give her a hug
• if she's doing something to get my goat, I pretend I'm a behavioral scientist studying her in a controlled experiment, sometimes I mentally narrate, just to make myself smile (subject seems to have forgotten how to buckle her seat belt)
• change the subject-- ask her a question about herself, to try to dissipate the tension (What's one thing I could do for you to make your day better today? What your favorite SpongeBob episode? If you could change one thing about our family, what would you change? If you were going to take a trip where would you go?)
• use neutral words. My 4 favorite are: Oh, wow, really, and hmm. I've found these are words that cue I'm listening, and don't cause her to be defensive, or me to be harsh.

There are more but I feel kind of silly sharing them because some of them are just me playing make believe, but they shift my perspective, and get me to view the situation in a different way quickly, which is exactly what I need in order to react differently.

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What? You want to see picture of my kids at the beach? OK. Click to embiggen.

That third one is Will pretending to hang ten.

Here comes a big one!

Haley before she decided that this ocean thing was alriiiight!

My coffee pot hates me.

This morning I woke up with a sore throat. Admittedly this is better than bubonic plague or, say, foot ulcers, or swimming to consciousness and realizing you're in prison. I'm trying to be positive. So I go into the kitchen to make some Spearmint tea (is spearmint capitalized b/c it's the name of a plant? I don't know, IT'S FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING, I'm lucky to remember what the keyboard is for).

I fill the pot with tap water and pour it into the coffee maker, realizing afterward, that we don't drink from the tap because it's well water, and we're never sure if our well has bacteria. I let the water cycle (which I just spelled sysle) through, pour it out, re-fill it with rarefied-fancy water, and pour it in the reservoir thingy of my Gevelia coffee maker, which I have used less than a dozen times since I got it a year ago, and? Nothing happens.

Did I offend it by using low-grade water? By not using it very often? By using it to make tea? Excuuuse me, Miss Dainty Britches Percolator, sorry to offend your delicate inner workings. Listen, since I got you on special for the cost of a venti latte, you can just get off your high-horse, and brew!

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I read the blog of a Jewish rabbi (you know, as opposed one of those Lutheran, or Greek Orthodox rabbis. Wow. It's early) and was amused to see a giant flashing ad for yarmulkes.com. When I clicked on it, I saw this, which I thought was very amusing. Is there a special blessing for the scoring of goals? "Oh, Adonai, please smite the opposing half-back." Don't get me wrong, it's not nearly as bad as half the crap my New Testament compadres are shilling. Jesus is my homeboy, indeed. I'll tell you what Jesus is, tossing his last supper, that's what. Ah well, you can't pick your spiritual relatives.

Maybe next year, I'll grow it myself.

I'm feeling a little better, and I found the USB cord to the camera, so to celebrate I'm going to talk about salad. Hey, you're the ones who told me to post every day, you have no one to blame but yourselves.

Nearly every night I make a salad. I open a bag of lettuce, dump some Caesar dressing on it, toss in a few croutons and call it a Caesar salad. I think because it has a name, and you can order it in a restaurant it's a legitimate foodstuff. I don't know if you're familiar with the form of lettuce that comes in a bag. It's already torn up, very convenient, but recently I realized that it's kinda gross. It's not very fresh, and it always smells a little off. I've known this for sometime, on some level, because each time I'm in the produce section, I try to grab a bag that's further back, you know, where they hide the freshest bags. I've come to the conclusion that I could be Elastagirl, and reach back all the way to Canada, and I would not find a decent bag of lettuce, because lettuce shouldn't come in a bag.

I've been making salad from a bag all this time because I've convinced myself that salad takes too long to make. It's too labor intensive, all that chopping. It's worth it to pay a little more for lettuce that's about to turn slimy any second, to save myself the hours, nay, days of chopping. Salad should only be made by people in vegetable chopping unions, who have representatives on site to make sure calluses are properly cared for, and choppers get their 15 minute break every 5 hours. It's historically one of the largest undertakings in American history: the Northern Pacific Railway, Hoover Dam, salad. Nevertheless, I decided if I got up before sunrise, and set to, I'd have a lovely salad by dinner time.

It took me ten minutes, from start to finish. Just call me John Henry. Since everyone likes different things on their salad, I used this cute tray, so people could pick and choose what they like. There's also a small plate of feta, because my children are weird, and like food that smells like the hallway of a fraternity, in the aftermath of a kegger. The lettuce was actually a little bitter, but still, an improvement over bagged.

This house is clean

Yesterday and today we did a full house cleaning. Cupboards, closets, drawers, the works. Luckily I'm not a pack rat, so there's not a bunch of stuff to throw out. What I am, is messy. Cluttery. I don't pick up after myself very well, and neither do the rest of us. Emily's probably the tidiest member of the family. Aaron's not too bad. Will usually remembers to put away his clothes. Haley and I pretty much leave a trail of junk in our wake. I can't tell you how much I love to have a clean house. My whole being perks up like a puppy. I feel lighter, centered,  my befuddled brain de-fuddles.

Now y'all know, I am all about the systems. And if one system doesn't work, I just move right along to the next. We've been through a number of systems for getting the house clean, and they all work fine. But we need a system that teaches us to pick up after ourselves, because I want the house to stay clean. All the time.  Call me crazy, but I think it can be done.

Here's what we're doing. I bought a box of 750 gum balls at Ye Olde Warehouse (ssshhh, don't tell their dentist). As long as the house stays clean, the kids can have a gum ball whenever they want.  The other reward they receive is that every day the house is clean I put a marble in a jar. When we earn 15 marbles, we'll go someplace special.

On the consequence side, if I see a mess, life comes to a screeching halt for the rest of the day. (A mess is defined as things out of place, and no one in the room actively engaged with said things. Hey, my kids are lawyers, definitions are mandatory.) If a mess is discovered, there is no computer, TV, or friends for the rest of the day. And then the cleaning commences. For as long as it takes to get the house spotless. Once we've done that once or twice, I think we'll realize that's not how we want to spend our day, and we'll start picking up after ourselves. Everyone still has their regular weekly chores (trash, dusting,etc.), so we'll still have to clean throughout the week, but hopefully if we keep the clutter to a minimum, maintenance will be a lot easier.

Wish us luck!

D to the U to the double L

I am trying, my faithful A and C voters, to write 5 out of the 7 days of the week. So far so good. I've been busy, and really don't have much to post or much time to post it, but you said even if it's schlock, so here, have some bullets.

• Today was my last day working at Ye Olde Crafte Store. Which I have mixed feelings about. Ultimately I can be bored for good money, or be captivated for little money, but when I'm bored and poorly paid, I gotta hit the road. It did help us pay a few bills though, and I met some nice people.

• Tuesday Will stepped on a toothpick which went about halfway in his foot. I got it out okay, and called the nurse to see if I needed to do anything special to dress it. She told me to come in, because he was due for his 5 year boosters, one of which was tetanus. Yay! Step on something sharp, let mommy take you to the doctor to be doubly wounded, whee! He was a good sport about it.

• Aaron is going to be switching jobs soon; I'm not sure where he's going to end up. There's not a lot of electrical engineering that goes on out here in the boondocks. He has a couple of possibilities here, and also an interview in Chicago. He's very good at what he does, and I have no doubt people will be offering him jobs right and left, but I am hoping we don't have to move. Even though we're out in the sticks, I like it here. Although I love Chicago too, and ultimately I want him to be happy at work, even if we have to move. There are few things worse than having a job you don't like (at least if you live in a first-world country) other than bad health, or a bad marriage, a bad job is right up there in the top 3.

• My tooth is feeling considerably better, and I go in to get my crown next week. Nothing makes you feel old like a broken tooth. Next I'll forget to pluck my mole hairs, until they grow so long they'll act like cat's whiskers, telling me when a space is too small for me to fit through, and telepathically warning me that the neighbor's Doberman is approaching.

I'll be eating a lot of yogurt this week.

Bright and early this morning at 7:00 am I had a root canal. Whee!

I'd never had a root canal, and didn't know what to expect. Actually, I learned I have a whole mouthful of root canals, they run down the center of every tooth, and what I had today was a root canal excavation. Honestly it wasn't as bad as a filling, because there wasn't as much drilling involved.

When you have a root canal you go to an Endodontist, or at least I did. Endodontists do nothing but clean out root canals. And while I can see the satisfaction you might get from tunneling and clearing teeth roots, like a decay miner (what's decay selling for on the open market these days?) I can't imagine telling people that's what you do for a living. You'd have to lie, and say you were an IRS agent, or a mortician. Why is there so much stigma associated with root canals? Poor little endodontists, just trying to do their jobs, doomed to be the punchline of cocktail-party jokes. ...If you attend very lame cocktail parties.

After they clear the tooth, they fill the canal with something that I believe is a combination of solder and cement. Which they insert with a hot-glue gun. I'm not kidding, it looked exactly like a hot glue gun. Which was kind of cool, although it was a little disconcerting to see wisps of smoke rising from my mouth.

Tonight, I'm not quite as enchanted as I was this morning, because I'm considerably sorer and poorer. So if you need me I'll be over here, with a bag of frozen peas pressed to my jaw. Anxiously awaiting my next Advil, and my next paycheck.

So I really need to post something above last week's complaints. I just typed for about 20 minutes thinking that surely something would come up that would be worth posting. If I just let my fingers run amok over the keyboard, they'd eventually type something entertaining. Mmmm or maybe not. See this is the challenge of being an introvert: words are not my first language. But I wanted to let you know I did not die in a freak window washing accident (I can see the headlines now: "SC J0hns0n, manufacturers of W!ndex, discover Anthrax also gives windows a beautiful streak-free shine!)

So bulleted updates it is! And a few pictures thrown in for good measure.

• I don't think Hawaii is going to be the place for us. The salary is stupendous, which for Hawaii means comfortable, but the island we were going to be living on is really really rural, and tiny. Like you-can-drive-the-whole-circumference-in-90-minutes tiny. There are other reasons too. The housing market is a joke . Half a million dollars for a shack. That's worse than the Bay Area which we left, for that very reason. Also, according to various message boards, and talking to people who live there, there's a lot of hostile feelings toward non-native interlopers, and do I really want to take on that challenge? Probably not.
• Still working toward getting my graphic design business going. (You see how I just slipped in the kind of business I'm starting, without calling attention to it, so that the small business gods won't smite me? Oh, I'm staying under the jinxing radar, baby.) Building a web site, getting business cards, but first trying to come up with a name, which you kind of have to have before you can have business cards and a website. I mean I can't really call it Fill In The Blank Design, now can I? (If you can think of a good name, email me. I don't think the small business gods are monitoring my email, but ixnay on the ommentscay)
• Wake up, swimming, softball, bed; wake up, swimming, softball, bed. This is our life now. See why I have nothing to blog about?
• Except ooo ooo ooo, we're going to see the Lion King this weekend! I have wanted to see it since I saw the cast perform on Rosie about 6 years ago, and now I am!

And now for pictures. My son has bionic hearing, when it comes to the ice cream truck.

WAHM OMG WTH

So, I've decided to start my own business. There's long line of thought-dominoes  that topple across my brain at the thought of it, clicking across my frontal lobe, circling around the temporal, up over the parietal, and finally sliding down the occipital with a Whee-everyone-hold-your-arms-up! whoosh at the end. And then my head explodes in a fountain of fireworks.

Mostly there's a long To Do list, accompanied by a long list of things that must be done before I can start my To Do list, and even more things that must precede those two lists, so I can get ready to do my pre-To Do list list. Meanwhile I'm committed to doing two hours of school every morning, and I enrolled my children in swimming lessons which take place EVERY DAY for two weeks. What was I thinking?!

Anyway, after much thought, I've decided this is the best path for me because,

1. My resume sucks. ("Yes Mr. Interviewer,  I, um, taught school for 6 years about 10 years ago, but I'm looking for a job in another field now, plus I have no formal training! I want a decent wage, but I can only work during the hours my kids are in school. When do I start?!")
2. I want to be able to volunteer in my kids' classrooms, and I want to be home when my kids come home from school. I don't even want to send them to school, so for sure I want to see them in the afternoon.
3. I loved LOVED teaching, but there's too much work to bring home. So I'm starting a business at home, where I can work from exactly 8-3. Hahahaha! I kill me.
4. I like this particular vocation I've chosen (which isn't a secret, I'm just not announcing it at the moment), I think it will pay a decent wage (more that the slave wages of teaching), and I think I'm good at it.
5. I can quit my very dull night/weekend job, which I was going to quit anyway, but having a #5 gives the list more substance.

P.S. Does anyone use Skype? Is it reliable? We have Von@ge which S to the U to the CKS. I think it might be a good idea when I'm canvassing for business, not to be disconnected in the middle of a sentence.

In other news, the search for a school for Will has begun. The first one just seemed kind of dingy, not many windows, decorated in early cinder block, like that. The second school seemed great, but maybe a little too academic. The curriculum is very structured, packed with learnin' aplenty, but not too much recreation. The kind of school where the parents pick a good Kindergarten, so their kids can get into a good college. Yeah, not really my style. Going all day with only 1 outdoor recess? They're four; they need to run around more than they need to learn the capital of Peru.

Book 'em, Danno!

Almost everyday Aaron pokes around Hot Jobs to see what's happening in the job market. It's sort of a hobby, like surfing travel websites, only boring. A few weeks ago, on a lark, he submitted his resume to apply for a really cool job. I have no idea what Aaron's idea of a really cool job is, since I have very little idea what Aaron does for a living. I don't speak FPGA, so it's really just as well it's all top secret, and he can't talk to me about his job anyway. So last night the prospective company calls him, and interviews him, and tells him they're interested in hiring him. And the really cool job? Is in Hawaii.

Part of my mind jumps around squealing like a contestant on The Price Is Right, while another part pops a Xanax, because a volcanic island smack dab in the middle of the Pacific is not a place humans should inhabit. Giant tortoises and mountain goats, fine. Humans, not so much. The expeditionist part flatly states, "We cannot pass up an opportunity to live on a volcanic island smack dab in the middle of the Pacific. Case closed." But the part of my brain that started this entry is the part that says to God, "Dear God, not that I'm complaining, (which I am, but I like to pretend I'm not complaining when I speak to God, and I like to think God humors me) but what is with all the moving, and the packing, and the relocating all over the United States?! Is this some kind of profound something-or-other you're trying to teach me, or you just decided a game of human checkers would be fun?"

For the first 25 years of my life, I lived in the same city, except for going away to college, which doesn't count.  Apparently I'm going to spend the next 25 years hopping from state to state. And you know, seeing as I don't speak to people I don't know, it takes me a while to make friends. And I've sort of decided that this is a season of my life when I'm not going to have a lot of close friends, or be connected to a community (present company excepted, oh kind and glorious internet). Saying that helps me accept what is, without squashing my hope that one day in the future I'll have a juicy and delicious bunch of (face to face) friends, like I've had in the past. And while I would be leaving behind a good mechanic, and pediatrician, at least I wouldn't have the pain of leaving a lot of friends (although our neighborhood totally rocks, and I would miss my neighbors a lot.) Also, moving is kind of addictive. I spend a few years in a place, and think, yup, I'm ready to move on and start over. I get the itch. Aaron has always had the itch. My kids have it too. Every now and then one will ask me, "Mom, when are we going to move again?" Or, "When we move, can we go somewhere that has X, Y, and Z?"

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm thinking this might be a good test case for moving to Ireland. Yes, I know, it has vastly different climate and culture (although it actually rains MORE in Hawaii), but it would give me a sense of how I would feel, living further away from my parents. Of course this is all in the baby, fetal, preliminary stages, and may come to nothing. We have a lot of questions to ask, and research to do, and-- I don't want to say demands, because it sounds so demanding-- specific requirements before we would commit to such a huge move. So we'll see. But maybe I should take a scuba class at the Y, just in case.

Blog ala Mimi

Y'all would not believe how easily influenced my brain is. Now that I've joined Twitter, my brain is in abbreviated mode, and I can barely remember how to write a blog entry. This is also why when I hang out with someone for a while, I start to pick up their mannerisms a little, and when I visit Aaron's aunt in the South, I've gone suthun before the week is out.  So you may have to deal with shorter, more scattered entries for a while.

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Can I say how disappointing it is to go to a restaurant and want to order chicken-fried steak (suddenly I'm embarrassed to admit that) and instead order grilled salmon, and to discover when you get home that the Salmon was MORE calories. Very disappointing. Yeah, I know the salmon was healthier. Tell my butt. (Also putting in another plug for my message board. What, no one out there is trying to adopt a healthy habit? I'm the only one who's weak enough to need support? Is the guilt trip working?)

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I went into the pet store the other day to get bedding for Emily's mouse cage. For those of you following along at home, she went into the pet store to get a guinea pig, she came out with 3 mice. No, I was not thrilled. Then one of the mice died during the winter, and the ground was too hard to bury it, so I wrapped it and boxed it, and put it in my freezer. All winter a mouse was in my freezer. 

All right, I admit it. The mouse is still in my freezer. Because who wants to deal with a frozen mouse? I can't throw it away, and I don't want to bury it. Maybe It'll be the first Cryonic mouse in history!

Denial City, population: me.

Anyway, I went to get bedding for the other thriving, robust mice, who receive weekly vitamin B shots and wheat-grass smoothies to keep them alive as long as possible, and there was a baby, tiny-little-teeny, gray and white, mini-lop-eared rabbit.  It was small. And soft. And my Awww reflex went bananas. I went back the next day, and the next. I thought about what a huge commitment another animal would be. Rabbits live about 8 years. And then I asked myself how I would feel if I went back to the pet store and someone else had bought that rabbit.

And now I'm a rabbit mommy. I pick him up today. (Or her, we're not sure because if the rabbit is that small, just think how small the rabbit genitalia is. Or don't.)  I'll post pics this afternoon. And now I have one more thing I can do while my kids play outside this summer, because rabbits need exercise. Did you know they make rabbit leashes? They do. 

Various and Sundry

I took a peek at the front page of this blog and discovered I haven't written in  over a week. So I guess I should fill this space with something. How 'bout bullets?

• Aaron and I walked into Mega-Warehouse Club the other day, and simultaneously fell in lust with a screened-in gazebo. So we're trying to find the money to buy it, but first we want to redo our back patio with pavers. I have no idea how we will come up with the cash to do all that, but you know the old saying, where there's immediate gratification, there's a way. Maybe we'll set the kids up with a lemonade stand. Or a crack stand.


• Emily is turning 9 on Sunday. Even though I forbade her to get older she is deliberately disobeying me. Kids. I turn 41 on Tuesday. Hold me.


• Will's Godzilla-like fury continues unabated. Fortunately he has days when he is sweet, because I don't think I could take 80 decibels of ranting on a daily basis. I wish I could figure out why he's so pissed. Well, actually I think I know why he's pissed. He's pissed because life cannot be arranged according to his every whim. I just wish I could help him get over it. But I can't, so he continues to LOUDLY lament the injustices of the world. Yesterday for example, the kids and I played a game of Trouble at bedtime. Will lost, and he was apoplectic that we had not let him win.

"But I wanted to win!"

"We all wanted to win, but tonight Emily won."

"Fine! If you don't love me, I'll just sleep on the floor, with NO BLANKET and NO PILLOW." 

"I love you very much.  I think you'll be more comfortable in your own bed, and I don't think sleeping on the floor is going to make you feel better, but you can sleep on the floor if you want to."

"You're not even going to give your OWN SON a pillow?! You hate me that much?!"
(Is this kid a master manipulator or what?)

"Would you like your pillow? I'll be happy to hand it to you." Now he gives me the silent treatment. After about 30 seconds of waiting for an answer I say, "I'll just put your pillow down here (by his feet) in case you want it." (Because if I had tried to give it to him he would have yelled about how he didn't want that stinky pillow.) "Good night son, I love you." 

I left the room, and shut the door, and for the next 20 minutes he proceeded to scream "I WANT MY PILLOW! GIVE ME MY PILLOW!" Formerly I would have given him his pillow, or told him it was right there, and he could reach it quite easily. But obviously it's not about the pillow, it's about trying to engage me in battle, and homey don't play that. SIGH. Well this is, no doubt, the longest bullet point in history.

• I think the girls are leaning a little toward going back to school next year. If their desire to go back to school increases, we'll most likely go ahead and send them. And if that happens, we'll enroll Will in an all-day mixed age Kindergarten. I don't think he'd be happy if I were his only playmate all day, everyday, and I know I wouldn't be happy. Holy moly, what if all 3 of my kids are in school next year, and I can go to Barnes and Noble by myself, anytime?  I'm not sure I can handle it. I might even get a job or something radical like that. *sniff* Linda Hirshman will be so proud. *sniff*


• I've lost my taste for junk food. For the past couple of weeks every time I eat candy or anything just it just tastes so... synthetic. You don't realize what a hardship this is, because how am I supposed to relieve my stress, if my one-and-only-never-fail crutch doesn't do it for me anymore. Is there anything you do to relieve stress that works as well as a cookie?

How many calories does inner turmoil burn?

I'm happy to say that our family is still marching along the road to healthy habits. We're still keeping junk to a minimum, while integrating healthier foods (I can't wait until melons are in season!), more water, and exercise. Aaron is going full steam ahead. He's walking to work, drinking about a gazillion glasses of water a day, and hasn't had any sugar to speak of.  In 2 months he's lost about 25 pounds!  And I, uh... haven't gained any of the 6 pounds I've lost. Woot. I know, I know. Men lose faster than women. Tell my butt.

Yeah, I'm a little conflicted about Aaron's success. On the one hand I really am so happy he's on the road to better health. His weight-related health problems are already lessening. On the other hand I'm grinding my teeth a little because he's doing it so much better and faster (like The Six Million Dollar Man! ) than I am, so I'm throwing myself a nice little pity party. Don't mind me *cough* back here in the *cough* dust!

What I'm saying is, I'd be discouraged and jealous if he were still downing jelly donuts, and now that he's subsisting on lettuce I'm... discouraged and jealous. Don't you wish you were married to me? Better than Spring Break in Cabo! Thank the good Lord I'm 40 and not 20, and have the presence of mind to keep my lips zipped and my snarling beastie locked up.

So I've decided I need to up the ante: eat better, drink more water, exercise more. Because I really don't want to be waving at Aaron's (fine) behind throughout our entire journey. I'd like to close the gap a little, at least. But! (Yes! Another one!) I can't set my sights too high or my inner rebel will throw down, and I'll be eating Ben and Jerry's straight from the carton, with a Dorito chaser.

No wonder I don't exercise much. I need a nap just trying to keep up with my neurosis.

I'm writing about socks. Yes, it's come to this.

These are all the socks that have come to call my laundry room home. And all the laundry is done, folded and put away. What in the world do my children do with their socks?  Honestly, I don't believe in the tooth fairy or Santa, but I am seriously reconsidering my views on the sock monster. I mean, what other explanation could there be?!

I've heard all the innovative solutions: "Just clip each pair of socks together with a clothespin, as you put them in the hamper."  How am I going to get my children to clip their socks together when I can't even get them to put them in the hamper?! Hello! If I could get my children to pick their socks up in the first place, do you think I would have this problem?

I decided to do a longitudinal study of the problem. But I'm not that organized, so I just made one up.

TV or not TV

Next week (April 23-29) is turn off your TV week. I'm not a huge watcher of TV. Many nights I watch 1 show. Some nights I don't watch any. I watch the most when I'm folding laundry. Most often I start to watch something, and then wander off to do something else. CSI, American Idol, King of the Hill, The Sopranos, Spongebob, ...an occasional Whose Line, or Actor's Studio... that's about it.

My kids, on the other hand, watch a lot of TV. They really like it. If the weather is good, I make them shut it off, but for the most part, Nickelodeon or Toon Disney is usually on every afternoon. It's occurred to me a more than a few times, maybe they watch too much. Maybe I should restrict it more. If for no other reason, there's the link between weight problems and TV watching.

A friend of mine makes her kids earn tickets to watch TV. For every 1/2 hour of reading or chores they do, they earn a ticket redeemable for 30 minutes of TV time. Which is a great idea, but keeping track of it all seems too much like work, to me. Our neighbors don't let their kids watch any TV during the week, and limit it to 2 hours per weekend.

One of the only areas where Aaron and I butt heads over parenting is about what kind of DVDs the kids get to watch (the other area is what time they go to bed). He lets them watch some PG-13 movies, which I adamantly oppose. I say, it's PG-13 for a reason. I don't care if our 4 year-old loves Spiderman, I don't want him watching the movie, even if Aaron fast-forwards through the scary parts, which sometimes he forgets to do, because they're not scary if you're 41. I don't want our 8 year-old watching it either, because? Not 13! Maybe if I make a huge issue about it, it'll divert our kids' teen rebellion. Instead of sex or drugs, they'll sneak into R-rated movies. Think it'll work?

I won't make my kids go cold turkey next week, but I probably will cut it down to a show a day (when I tell them, there will be rending of garments and sitting in sackcloth and ashes, and maybe an attempted coup). How 'bout you? How much TV do you, or your kids watch? If you have kids, how do you monitor their TV habits?

Watching with one eye closed.

It's just too terrible to talk about.  Here are some other people talking about it, if you want to talk about it.

Today I organized my bathroom drawers. It seems wrong to be happy about having your bathroom drawers organized while so many are suffering so much. Anyway... I'm sure no one cares, but I organized them according to the way I use things, so I've got all the lotions and soaps in one drawer, all the topical medicines in another drawer, etc. Then I stuck a post it on each drawer until people get used to the new system. I'd much rather have some nice medicine cabinets, but I think this is the optimal solution for drawers.

If you want to bury your head in the sand too, you can leave an organizational tip that's worked for you. Or you know, berate me for being an ostrich.

Sunday in the House with Sheryl

Yippee! The weather was decent today! The sun shone! There wasn't any of that rilly rilly annoying white stuff falling from the sky. ( I love snow as much as the next person, but not. in. April.) I think Spring may have arrived (but I'm not counting my chickens yet).

My parents are not outdoor people. By "not outdoor" I'm not talking about abstaining from camping, hiking, fishing, or skiing. I'm talking about making their forays outside as brief as possible: i.e., never roll down the car window, hire someone else to do the yard work, find the parking place that's closest to the building. Like that. There was some swimming, and my dad golfed a lot, but that's it. I was raised indoors. I had never been camping until I was an adult, and finally took myself, which my parents thought was very weird. Now we usually go camping at least once a summer, and try to take some walks outside when the weather is good.

My kids, on the other hand,  spend every possible moment outside from the time the weather turns warmish in Spring, to the time it turns cold in fall. This year, I really want to spend some time out there with them. Aaron shoots hoops in the driveway every single night, while the kids run around doing whatever they do. I stay in the house. Playing outside doesn't come naturally. Emily has mentioned a few times lately, that when the weather turns warm she wants me to spend a lot more time outside with her. And who can refuse a request like that?

So internet, I turn to you. I need something to do outside. Something that will keep me occupied-- some sort of project-- because if I go outside, just to hang out, I'll be back inside in two minutes. But what can I do? I don't want to sit outside and read. Burying myself in a book seems to defeat the purpose of being outside, although occasionally I suppose it's okay. I'm too short to shoot hoops. Although Emily does it and she's shorter than I am... hmm, maybe that's a possibility. I have to be close enough to the house to watch the kids, so I can't go on a bike ride. Also, I can't go on a bike ride because I don't own a bike (minor setback).

I would love to garden, but I know nothing about it. And when I say nothing, I mean nothing. The brown stuff is dirt, you put plants in it. Beyond that, I'm clueless, so if you're going to suggest I garden, please recommend a very basic book, or website.

I'm open to any and all suggestions... thanks!

Send Advil too.

I'm feeling blechy. Sad, but I'm not sure about what. Overwhelmed, mostly about money. Maybe I need to get a full-time job, or a part-time job that pays better. *big sigh*

Also I'm not sure what to do about school for the kids next year. Will is 5 in July, but we're not sending him to public Kindergarten. These days, many kids aren't starting Kindergarten until they're 6, or a late 5. With all Will's issues about being the youngest, I want him to be the oldest in his class. But we might send him to Montessori Kindergarten.

I don't know whether to send the girls back to public school or keep them in virtual school. I really like virtual school. I like having the kids home all the time, and since all the lesson plans and materials are provided, it's pretty easy (although there are days I'd like to run screaming into the street, don't get me wrong). The girls really like being home. They like having shorter school hours, they like going at their own pace, they even like being home with their brother and me. Still I have a vague feeling of unease about virtual-schooling. But then again, I had a vague feeling of unease about public school, and there were more things I disliked about public school. A lot more. But I have frequently have this conversation in my head:

Niggling voice in the back of my mind: You should send the kids back to public school next year.

Me: Yeah, maybe you're right. But why should I?

NVITBOMM: Don't you think homeschooling is a teensy bit...weird?

Me: I hate to break it to you, but we are weird. Give your aspirations for normalcy a nice burial at sea, and let's move on.

NVITBOMM: Well, they're going to have to go back to school sometime. And the longer you wait, the harder it will be for them to re-acclimate. School is hard enough without adding more problems.

Me: Will it be harder the longer we wait? I'm not sure. Besides, just because they're going to go eventually doesn't mean they should do it now. They'll have to pay taxes eventually too, let's put off the inevitable for as long as we can.

NVITBOMM: They won't be socialized enough.

Me: Yeah, we only have 2 dozen children on our block. Plus gymnastics, softball, scouts, and whatever else they dabble in.

NVITBOMM: Still they need to be in school.

Me: Yeah, you're probably right  ...but why?

NVITBOMM: Look! Something shiny!

Gah, my brain hurts.

Anyway, a few of you commented or emailed me about how I deal with Will's anger and my own, so I'm going  to post about it, but it's a big subject, so I thought I'd pop in and say hi in the interim. Today I'm cleaning out Will and Haley's room, getting ready to redecorate in early Spongebob. Tomorrow I work, and Sunday I hope to dance naked on the beach in front of a large bonfire, please send beer.  Although, since there's no beach nearby, I have issues with public nudity, and it's way too cold to dance naked outside (just ask my 4 year old), I'll probably read or maybe catch a movie. You can still send beer though. What are you doing this weekend?

I wish I had taken a before picture.

I don't know about you, but I cannot fold a fitted sheet to save my life. Also, my children like to make forts out of sheets. Those two unfortunate facts make my linen closet look like a tsunami of 100% Egyptian cotton. I'm sure I'm the last person on the planet to come up with this idea, but just in case there's someone else out there who I can save the trouble of excavating the entire closet looking for matching pillowcases, you can put your linens in huge ziploc bags. Right now I have them grouped by size, but I may run out to get more bags, and put every set into it's own bag. And on the bottoms? Those are comforters! that can stand up! Instantly giving me twice the space! I know, I'm a little too happy about this. I really need to get out more.

Pass me that Sharpie

Hey, I have some pillows that look just like this. What do you think I could get for them? I could open a boutique in Manhattan.

Okay, back to work now. Right after I...

Yesterday a girl with the most enormous boobs came into the store. She was wearing a white, wrap-around bra top (sort of like this, but more revealing) and under it she had on a teal bikini, whose cups were shaped like star fish. Do you know how hard it is not to stare, but find yourself staring, but at least try not to look like you're staring, while giving CORRECT CHANGE? She was a very nice woman, and we had a brief conversation about...something. I couldn't tell you what, because I was too busy ogling her BAZOOMBAS. Thankfully I made no faux pas, like "Cloudy day, do you think it will boobs?" Or "Here's your change, your receipt is in the boobs." And of course it doesn't help that I'm not quite 5 feet tall, and they were just sitting there, right at eye level. I could've put my eye out.

Anyway, now it's Monday, and since I didn't teach much last week, due to the cold from hell, I'm having a very hard time getting back into the swing of things. Instead of teaching, I've been surfing e-Bay, becoming extremely irritated with sellers who bid on their own items. How can this be allowed?! A few days ago I found a purse I really wanted, but the seller kept bidding on it, and I couldn't bring myself to outbid the seller, and now I have to live with the fact that some other woman is walking around with MY pretty, pretty purse. Truly, it pains me. Along with not teaching, and not owning a beautiful handbag, I'm also not doing laundry. And as I did no laundry last week either, all the hampers are overflowing. Next to overflowing toilets, my least favorite thing to have overflow are hampers (most favorite: hearts with joy, closely followed by wallets with twenties).

A round of bullets for everyone!

Things I could have written about lately, and started to write about, but then changed my mind.

• I've had a number of ailments lately including an unbelievably painful pain in my shoulder one night, all night, which inexplicably disappeared like a plane over the Bermuda Triangle the next day. And another weird one that's too gross to mention. What's up, body?


• I  wrote a big long post about Aaron's job, and the possibility of us moving, but it was so dull even I didn't want to read it. The short version, Aaron's funding may run out at the end of next year, so we may be moving again.  I'm not looking forward to moving, but we've moved so many times it's sort of a way of life, (every once in a while Haley asks me when we're going to sell our house) so in a way I am looking forward to it. But if we do move, Aaron would like to move where there's more snow (LOTS of snow). I'd either like to move near my parents where there's NO snow, or to Ireland, where there'd be no parents, and no snow. So what we need to do is to move my parents to Ireland, and Aaron will invent a weather machine, capable of turning all Ireland's rain into snow, and I will invent a pill to make my parents like snow. Problem solved!


• Procrastination. Procrastination comes from the Latin, "pro" meaning expert, and "crastinus" meaning lazy-ass. I can't remember a time in my life when I wasn't a huge procrastinator, but really now, I need to change. The reason I procrastinate, other than the obvious, is that whenever I'm caught up on everything, I have so damn much anxiety. Just free floating anxiety (more than I have when I procrastinate.)  So I prefer DelayLand: riding the Ease Cups and Pirates of the Tarrybean. But now I am caught up on almost everything. I DO know how to stay caught up. I have a system that works very nicely, I just need to deal with the anxiety. Maybe taking meditation breaks or something.


• Hey, on a positive note, we're changing our eating habits around here. Aaron and I decided we would no longer bring any junk into the house, and we wouldn't eat any at work. In addition he gave up sugared soda (he hates diet) and switched to water. We've both been doing the treadmill too. If we have to have junk we buy the smallest portion we can. We're losing weight, but even more important, I think Aaron's cholesterol level will improve.

Dear Mom and Dad, Summer camp is fun.

Yes, hello, I have been doing more than freezing over here, and it did reach 23° yesterday. I was never happier to see double digits in my life-- ready to break out the Bermuda shorts and the Tiki glasses-- practically a heat wave.

What's been going on around here? Not much. This is more of a compulsory, "I'm not dead" post.

I bought a treadmill on eBay, and will pick it up this week. I've joined gyms before, and I just don't use them. I decided the only way I'm going to make exercise a habit is if I do it the minute I get out of bed, and make it as easy as possible. So I didn't buy an elliptical, because I didn't want to depend on my own propulsion. I need something to pull me along. Something that says, you must keep up this pace or suffer falling on your face and scraping your nose.

I also checked some books on CD out of the library, because, what? Am I just supposed to walk for half an hour, without anything to entertain me? Without anything to assault my senses, and distract me from being in the present? Who do you think I am, Thoreau?!

So I will roll out of bed, pee, put on my socks and shoes, and stick ear buds on. Pipe someone's mellifluous voice in my head, and plod along the same 5 feet for precisely 30 minutes, all before my inner-sloth has even figured out I've snuck in some aerobic activity (she's usually groggy in the morning).

That's about it. I've been working a lot, and homeschooling even more. The dog's whip worms finally died, thus ending Poopontherugfest '07. Everyone's pretty happy and healthy. So it goes. Read any good books lately?

The weekend looms large

I haven't paid a bill in a month. When we got home from vacation, I picked up our pile of mail at the post office (two weeks later) set it on the dryer and it hasn't moved since. I've been meaning to, but I hate going through the mail, so meaning to is as far as I've gotten. Then yesterday afternoon our mortgage lender called for Aaron (who hasn't paid a bill in 15 years). Lordamercy, I must confess that scared the crap out of me. So this morning I got up a the butt crack of dawn, took myself out for breakfast, and did not leave the restaurant until all the mail was sorted, and the bills were paid. Whew, that's a load off. Now I am waiting for Emily to get dressed so we can go to the pet store. She has decided to dip into her vast wealth and buy a guinea pig. I'm not too enthusiastic about the prospect, but I grudgingly agreed.

We have a zillion kids in this neighborhood, so I thought it would be fun to have a Valentines party. We'll a have a Valentine themed cake and decorations, make Valentines, and have some kind of a goody basket for them to take home. Making invitations and getting ready for it will be fun, but the actual party may require my own special glass of magic punch. Anyway, this weekend I need to get the invitations done, since the party will be in two weeks. I don't have to work this weekend, so I'm hoping to get the bathroom taped and prepped and ready for painting too. I also need to clean, return my overdue library books, and maybe have a few child free hours all to myself. What are you doing this weekend?

What's goin' on

I'm at the library. I ran out of books, and didn't feel like my standard re-read, Harry Potter. It's been a good week. Really it's been a good couple of months. My Seasonal Affective Disorder hasn't been nearly as bad this winter, and for the most part I've been pretty happy. It finally snowed. And let me tell you, it's about time. You don't know how envious I've been of all you Texas, Colorado and Oklahoma bloggers getting my snow. It's only a couple of inches, but it's the first snow we've had all winter, and I'm so happy it's here!

Emily and I have been learning to knit on one of these. So much easier than knitting needles! If you want to knit, but you find it hard to keep track of all those stitches, this is the thing for you. Next week we're taking a class on how to knit a heart pillow. My sister's birthday is in February, so I'll probably send it to her. It's so easy to do, I knitted a scarf in a couple of days. (One of the many things I need to post pictures of.)

We finally got our bathroom finished, and I can't tell you how happy I am to finally have a bathtub. Now all I have to do is paint. I'm hoping it will start a painting jag, because I'd like to paint the living room and bedrooms too. The new water softener is being installed tomorrow, and is supposed to filter out all the iron in our well water. Our water is YELLOW, and some of our clothes have come out of the wash beyond salvaging. So finally that problem will be solved, hooray! Aaron and I aren't the greatest at saving money, and we didn't want to use credit, so it took us far too long to accrue the 2K we needed to redo the bathroom and buy a new water softener. But in our defense, it's not that easy to save on one salary.

School is going really well. I'm having so much fun doing it, we're thinking about keeping them home next year too. I mean, of course there are days when I blow my top because my well of patience has run dry, but most days I'm really happy I get to spend the whole day with my kids. Virtual schooling is the way to go, I think, because all the lessons are prepared for you, and all the materials are free. The tadpoles we're raising for our science project just arrived in the mail, and I hope they make it to adulthood. The hardest thing about school is keeping Will occupied. He does some stuff with us, but there are times he just doesn't understand why his sisters can't play. My dad just sent him one of these, so that should keep him occupied for a while. Hopefully.

I've gotta go to work now. I may not be around much. Lately I'm not really down with the blogging, yo. But I will pop in to let you know what's happening, so those of you interested in an update, even if it's pretty prosaic, can get a Sheryl fix.

Good morning, er... afternoon

I slept until 11:53 this morning thanks to Aaron, the miracle of ear plugs, and several latent threats the night before, about the consequences of rousing mummy from her slumber. And then when I woke up the house was so quiet. I thought the rapture had occurred, and I'd been Left Behind, but the car wasn't in the driveway. The Christmas tree had been taken down, and the dishes were done.

Someone is getting sex tonight. 

I sat down to play Pacman in total silence. Total silence, that most succulent of fruits, and I bit deeply, and let the juice run down my chin.

There's a certain Zen to playing Pacman. You can't zoom around the board trying to gobble up points in order to hoard extra men, you'll be eaten every time. You must tell yourself, the only life I have is the one I am playing, the only time is now. So between playing Pacman, and no one being home, I feel like I've been on a weekend retreat, the only thing missing is a meditation maze.

That'll Do, Pig.

It's Poetry Thursday. And... something else... What was it now? Ah yes, the end of NoBloPoMo. Just like it says at the back of all those books: the end (and don't let the door hit you in the butt on the way out). Anyway, I used to post poetry here from time to time, but it's been a while. So. I thought I'd post some more today. I like this poem. It gives me hope, and what better reason to like a poem?  If you like its simplicity, and the Native culture it draws from, I suggest you read Leslie Marmon Silko, or (my favorite Native poet) Joy Harjo.

HOW THE MARICOPAS MADE WISHES COME TRUE
By Byrd Baylor

They used to climb to a windy cave
up in the Painted Rock Mountains
It was a place where any wish
was granted.

You had to go alone.
You had to creep through a small dark hole
and sit there facing the light.
You had to hold your right hand out
and think of what you wanted.
It could be anything---
good crops or turquoise
or luck in racing
or someone to love.

But first you had to sit there
in the dark.
Behind you, you would hear
a Whirlwind Person
roaring through the mountain,
coming closer,
wrapping its loud winds
around you.
And you'd feel something cold
in your outstretched hand.

If you ran away in fear
bad luck would follow you forever.
But if you stayed
and weren't afraid
and closed your hand slowly
over that cold
and fasted four days---
you'd have your wish.

Well, naturally.

 

What horrible Edward Gorey Death will you die?

You will sink in a mire. You like to think you're normal, but deep down you really just want to strip off your clothes and roll around in chicken fat.
Take this quiz!

Here's a link to the whole of The Gashlycrumb Tinies.

Day Twenty (Thank God it's almost over) Eight

So yeah, about the Christmas shopping being finished, I only have to buy presents for 7 people, and we don't buy much, so it's not as if I'm shopping for the Walton family reunion (John Boy, I got you that mole remover kit, ordered all the way from Charlottesville!). So it's not such a huge feat, also I haven't even thought about putting up our tree yet.

Tonight I cooked another Turkey. It's so inexpensive, I couldn't pass it up, and I don't have a stand-alone freezer, so I had to cook it tonight. (As Haley and I were peeling potatoes, I was singing this little ditty. Enjoy.) The turkey turned out beautifully, except when I cut right through the aluminum turkey roaster, and turkey grease leaked into my stove, which does not have a removable range top, and in my mind's eye I imagined the whoosh of flames engulfing the kitchen as I cook tomorrow's breakfast eggs, and suddenly a symbol of homeyness and nurturing became the INFERNO OF DOOM.  Yeah, except for that. Hopefully some sopping with paper towels and copious spraying of Windex did the job.

 

Day 27

Good night internet.

P.S. I've had all my Christmas shopping done for a month. You hate me now, don't you?

I'm the Mario Andretti of towel throwing.

8:00 a.m.- Decide that since all the pie is gone, and the leftovers are picked over, it's a good day to start eating healthy. I'll just do it for today.

8:05 - Begin to hyperventilate. How am I going to a eat healthy breakfast without being late for work?

8:15 - Have to get to work, will pick up a skinny latte on the way.

8:20 - Debate whether I should make this a day to eat healthy, because maybe I'm not in the right frame of mind. Maybe I should pick some other goal.

8:29 - No. Will not waiver.

8:30 - The Starbucks in Barnes and Noble is closed.

8:31 - Tear up because Barnes and Noble is closed
8:32 - Tear up because it's ridiculous to cry over business hours.
8:33 - Tear up because it's delusional to think that a skinny latte is a healthy breakfast.
8:35 - Fix mascara.

8:45 - Arrive at work. Walk into the breakroom and have a piece of pie, with self-loathing ala mode.

Brill. Yant.

When I got off work this afternoon I went to see Stranger than Fiction, and I tell you, as I told Aaron, you need to get in the car, and go see it right now (which, carrying out all my emphatic commands, he did at once. Will you be as wise?). It is smart, and funny, and Christologic, and sweet, and seamless, and perfect in every way*, and I wanted to make out with everyone in the cast. I laughed, I cried, I sat there even though I had to pee.

*Well, okay, in one scene Dustin Hoffman's character is reading a Sue Grafton novel, so that made me go, hmm. Nothing against Sue, I just don't think his character would read something like that. But other than that? Deep fried perfection on a stick.

Leftover Day

I've been trying to think what makes a holiday weekend so much better than a regular weekend. Okay, you have the special comfort foods, but I could make those anytime. You don't have to work, but I don't work anyway, except part time, and today, in fact I do have to work, but I still have the scrummy holiday buzz. Hmm, best not to over analyze, must be pixie dust.

Hey, I'm racist and sexist! We were watching football yesterday, and I was once again reminded that I do not like women football announcers. They just get on my nerves, and it has nothing to do with their ability, I just don't like to hear a woman's voice announcing football. I think it's because I assume they're posers, not true football fans, even though my best friend in college majored in broadcasting, and was a rabid football fan, and hoped to get a job doing that very thing (and what difference does it make if they're true fans? They're announcers, not clergy). Also I noticed that you never see black newscasters (except Bryant Gumbell, or Bernie What'shisface from CNN), only sportscasters, and that's really a bummer, because I think they do a great job. Is that the equivalent of saying they've got rhythm? Oh well, if you can't show your warts on your blog, where can you? Hopefully you can forgive.

I've abandoned my current book, Johnathan Strange And Mr Norell. It's well written, but if a book can't spark my interest in the first 130 pages, forget it. I used to be compelled to finish a book once I had started it, prodding myself along, hanging the "surely it will get better" carrot over my head. Let me tell you, they never get better. (Hours I can never get back, spent reading Paradise, On the Road, Ulysses, The Da Vinci Code, and many others.) I have no money for books at the moment, and the library is closed, but I have plenty of books I've never read, so I plucked Black Dahlia off the shelf. (I didn't see the movie after the less than stellar reviews, hopefully the book is better.)

Day 23

We had a great day. We went for a long walk (the kids skated), watched a little football, played games, called friends and family, and had a fabulous dinner. Aaron ended up going to the store for me last night, wasn't that sweet?

Now I'm in an L-typtophan induced coma, and headed for bed. It's black Friday tomorrow and I have to work, yuck. Not really too thankful for that, but I'm not going to think about it. Hope your day was terrific (wherever you live)!

Bless Me Internet, For I Have Sinned

I have broken the first commandment of Thanksgiving cooking. Never wait until the night before to go shopping. The second rule being, don't cook your turkey at 200°. No, that must be first. So I am off to the store. I hope I've waited out the crowds.

Tell me:

Your favorite Thanksgiving dish
Who you're rooting for in tomorrow's game
Where are you having Thanksgiving
Who are you having it with
(and of course) What are you thankful for

I'll start. My favorite dish, isn't actually a dish, it's a bite. That perfect forkful of turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy swirled together with maybe just a soupcon of cranberry sauce.

Under the contractual obligations of my marriage, I must root for the Cowboys.

We're having Thanksgiving at home, just the 5 of us. It will be lovely, but it's times like this I miss my family and friends. A very, very lot.

The thing I'm most thankful for is that I'm more patient,  and less depressed than I was last year at this time. I have more energy, and less anxiety. I know that's sort of selfish, but it's really nice to feel halfway decent most of the time. Also, Aaron and I seem to be coasting on a nice little wave of marital happiness, and that's always nice. Also as the kids get older we can occasionally have an "uninterrupted conversation," that endangered beast that skirts around the dinner table every once in a while.

Well, he's not serving time, but at least he won't be profiting

Woo hoo! News Corp has canceled OJ Simpson's television interview and book deal! I've been trying since last week to find out who the sponsors of the program were, so I could get an email campaign going, but of course all I got was the runaround. I cannot imagine what possessed Fox to think of airing/publishing crap like this, dredging up painful memories, not only for the families involved but for everyone who's lost a loved one at the hands of domestic abuse. Not to mention significantly lowering the bar of ethical standards in the media, and as it is, ants can barely limbo under it.

Now I'm going to go watch the last quarter of the Charger/Bronco game.

Usually I get up in the morning, and get on the net first thing, and I've decided that's a bad decision. I'm much more productive in the morning than at night. By 6:00 all I want to do is veg out. That's the time I need to be clicky-clicky with the mouse, not during my hours of productivity. So if you see a post with a morning time stamp on it, be sure to hurl some nasty insults at me in the comments.

This morning I got up with a cloud of laundry hanging over my head. Two children peeing two beds, two nights in a row, equals 4 mattress pads, blankets,  and comforters, and 8 sheets. Plus I needed to wash our bedding too. So I decided I would haul it all to the laundromat at 6:30 this morning. I'm happy to say it took me an hour to do what might normally take me 2 days. Worth every cent they overcharged me.

We were dead tonight at work. In order to entertain myself I surreptitiously gave people discounts for random attributes, and as I rang them up I'd pretend to say "Wow, it's your lucky day, we're running a coupon for dread-locked Rastafarians buying leather cord." Or, "We give special discounts to perky cheerleaders buying face paint." Or, "My, isn't that sweater set pink, and here's 15% off, for taking that  cat cross stitch kit off our hands."* 

Also I decided I'm making my own wrapping paper this year. I'm going to buy a large roll of plain brown wrapping paper, gold glitter paint, and some cheap foam Christmas stamps, and let my kids have at it. It'll be creative and cheap, and Lord knows I can't do something just because it's pretty, it has to be practical too. Sometimes my mind really irks me. I can never do anything without calculating whether there is a practical benefit commensurate with the effort/money/aesthetic value. Truly, it's a curse. Must be that damn Temperance again.

*And we're allowed to give 40% discounts off one non-sale item, so don't worry I'll be dooced.

"The glass is half empty" is too optimistic

Tonight Will is heartbroken because I told him he couldn't sleep in Emily's bed with her. His heart has been stomped on by gorillas, and chopped in into eensy tiny pieces. Then the gorillas pureed a Heart Smoothie, and drank it, such is the decimation of his heart.

He is SO tired. Weepy tired. Thus, the weeping. And I'm only making it worse.

First, I was utterly heartless, hugging Haley "because you just love her, and are being nice to her, and you think I'm a stupid-head!" Then, after it was his turn to be hugged, and he was still sobbing, I thought it might help if I recounted something happy.
"Hey remember when it was Haley's birthday, and we went to Build A Bear Workshop? Wasn't that fun when you got to stuff your bear, and dress it?"
"Noooo [speech is garbled by a new flood of tears]."
"What?"
"I really wanted a watch instead of a bear, and you wouldn't get me a watch, and I CAN NEVER HAVE ANY WATCHES IN MY WHOLE LIFE."

I think I pulled three muscles in my face trying to keep from laughing, because that would have been CATACLISMIC.

"Oh, well, let's think of when we got to go swimming at the Y, remember that? That was a lot of fun, huh?"
"Yeah. [suddenly eyes brim with tears] But now it's too cold to go swimming, and we'll NEVER GET TO GO SWIMMING AGAIN."
"Okay, the happy memory thing isn't working too well, why don't you try to go to sleep."
"BUT WHAT IF I HAVE A BAD DREAM AND YOU DON'T HEAR ME CRYING?"

I almost burst out singing Look on the Bright Side. Oh, the restraint I've shown this evening.

You're Welcome.

If you're trying to increase your hours on the internet, because you need to improve your keyboarding skills, and if you grew up in the 80's, and you miss low tech video games, here are links to Frogger, and Pac Man. The best part? You don't have to exchange all your baby sitting money for game tokens.

Good Stuff

If you're a Ze Frank fan (and if you're not, that's between you and your therapist), I found 2 clips yesterday I hadn't seen before. History, on the creation of Amazon's wish list, and Use, on how to use your wish list.