Before The Storm

Work has been too busy for me (and a lot of others) the past 2 weeks, but it should peak sometime in the next 10 days - of course I love it in part because it's what my job is all about...it would just be nice to have it be paced out better instead of ridiculously intense periods followed by really slow ones. To add to the chaos, I'm also facilitating a course on Monday nights, picked up 2 day sections of Freshman Seminar on Tuesdays and Thursdays respectively (which start next week and I have only 2 weeks of prep done, teeheehee), AND and I'm nervous about starting research and getting my thesis done by December under the overly excited and possibly overbearing guidance of a newly crowned PhD who seems SO excited to be a PhD that she might just drive me to beat her senseless. We'll see. Regardless, the next 16 weeks are expected to be awful.

My mother recently predicted that I'm going to let Sam be in diapers until he's 5. She said exactly, "I know you - you're not gonna get that kid trained till he's 5 years old!" This was after a brief conversation about his inconsistent willingness to sit on his potty or the 'big toilet.'
It wasn't an argument really, but I pointed out that I wondered what evidence she had about my toilet-training abilities seeing as Sam is my first child, and accordingly, the first child I've ever attempted to potty train. That got a laugh.
She believes I'm being too easy on him. This from the woman that still does both my brothers' laundry. I don't see any reason to defend myself here: he's not ready, and when he is, it will happen. I have 33 more months until he's 5.

From Insulted to Disturbed

Putting aside McCain's offensive judgment on this for a moment, the more I'm learning about Alaska's prom queen, the more disturbed I'm becoming, especially as a mother.

From Wikipedia:
"On April 18, 2008, while in office as governor, Palin gave birth to her second son and fifth child, Trig Paxson Van Palin, who, as prenatal genetic testing had shown, has Down syndrome.[87] She returned to the office three days after giving birth.[22] Her decision to have the baby was applauded by the pro-life community"

This child is 4 months old. Not only an infant, but one with special needs - and this crackpot not only returns to her gubernatorial seat 3 days after birth, but is now choosing to essentially be absent from this baby's life before it can even ingest solids. And she's pro-life....figure that one out.

I don't judge moms that return to work after having a baby, willingly or not. I went back too. Our country's policies on maternity leave and early childcare programs are horrendous -sadly, many moms don't get adequate leave and most of us have to go back to work prematurely.
But being a state governor, then the VP nominee, and then potentially in office...these are not 9-5 positions....these are 24/7, 365. She must know that. She's putting her political career ahead of a four month old infant that needs its mother more than anything - a wealthy mother that can easily take indefinite time off and ensure that this child has the best chance...instead she'll let a team of nannies and staff do the job. A disturbing and heartless choice.

Maybe rich moms with maids and nannies can identify with her 'drive' to succeed. I am not sure how the rest of us could. She's not a suburban hockey mom, she's an egomaniac with big hair.

Palin Comparison

Yep, it's a play on words, my smarty-pantsies.

McCain's VP pick is the thinnest, most deplorable veiled attempt to woo those remaining (and a little bit nutty) Hillary die-hards.

AND, as far as I'm concerned, McCain isn't picking a VP based on experience or wisdom or 'readiness', he's brazenly exploiting the Minority Card for votes: oh, so you've got the first African American nominee? Well I'll just pick a woman then. Ha ha!

How cheap. How condescending.

Many smart women who were on the fence will see right through this. Easy to see why he really doesn't get it.

Of course I want a woman as a Pres or VP one day, but not a conservative. If the Dem nominee weren't Obama or even Hillary, I would STILL take an old white male democrat a million times over.

At least we can be sure Biden will mop the floor with her (and mess up her bun).

Excerpt from NY Times Bestseller List

for September 30, 2026



HARDCOVER NONFICTION

• I Was Right All Along, C. Ludden


• How Our Son Earned A PhD by age 18, Ludden & Ludden


• Handbag Hobags: Inside the Very Bradley Prostitution Scandal, A. Green


• 50+ and Still Getting Carded - The Beauty Guide, Green, Ludden & Partners Press

Back to the present:

I'm planning to take Sam to the Fly Creek Cider Mill sometime this fall. I told him about it tonight after booktime, and how they make apple juice and we could pick apples right from the trees. He added, "and peppers - we can pick the peppers, they are hanging on the trees! And I can eat them!"

He had peppers on his mind because I wore this necklace today - he calls the stone a pepper. He knows it's not really a pepper, but every time I wear it, he says, "That's a pepper. On your neck. I'm gonna eat it!" and he moves in and pretends to eat it.

Pastooli night

Tim had to work tonight so he couldn't watch Sam while I went to class. It was sort of a scheduling blunder. Thankfully, my parents happened to still be around, and they offered to stay longer, until one of us got home.
The best thing about mom taking over the kitchen when I'm gone is that she makes dinner (and makes extra for leftovers), cleans up, sweeps, and leaves everything tidier than it was before. I think it's part love and part subtle criticism of my cleaning skills. Whatever, it still works to my advantage.
She planned to make pasta & fagioli (it's pronounced FA-GEE -O-LEE. The corrupt but more familiar pronunciation is pasta fazool, which makes it sound totally unappetizing to me). Before I left, she was building the anticipation for Sam, describing the dish to him. She asked him, "So what do you think? Are you going to eat pasta & fagioli?" and Sam announced, "I like pastooli. I'm gonna eat it!"
Pastooli. How cute is that?

Brain Snacks

I almost didn't write tonight, but I can't skip an entry so soon into my new challenge. I teach a class on Monday nights, which makes me unavailable for snacking from 6-10pm. Easy night there. My students this session are generally tolerable, but tonight one of them (Mr. Puff My Chest When I Talk) was convinced that a handout was incorrect. He preceded to call it ridiculous and made up. The handout simply outlines some numbers, and it is accurate. I assured him that it is correct and offered him a calculator. He let it go, but he kept his chest puffed the rest of the night. He looked physically uncomfortable, really. I hope he was. I can't deal with people who question common knowledge and widely accepted principles. Can't you just hear them?

"Where do they get these numbers? No one asked me!"

"I don't know about all this gravity business - I just know stuff falls"

"If smoking is so bad for you, how come my grandma smoked 2 packs a day and lived to be 95?"

"All these doctors - they don't know anything. My cousin cured his cancer by eating turkey jerkey"

Sigh. I went straight to bed when I got in, but after 20 minutes or so, my mind is still racing and I hope typing will wind it down and get it into its pajamas.

Pajamas were difficult to include in Sam's routine tonight as well- Tim left me an email describing the evening. In brief, Sam asked to skip his bath and wanted to lie on the floor. He made Tim lie with him, ordering, "close your eyes, daddy". The phone rang and Tim left the room and talked to Allison for 5 minutes - when he returned Sam was out. Completely. Tim took these pictures.

He's never fallen asleep anywhere but a bed or his crib - not even a sofa. He must have been exhausted.

In house news, progress has been agonizingly slow. Today they started siding around the front door. The center is siding (as pictured), but the sides of the porch will be cedar shakes (faux) in an accent color called hearthstone (khaki).

My brain feels slow now and ready for PJs.

Beginning tomorrow, I will be taking another grad course on Tuesday eves. I'll be gone from 4:30-10pm, adding another night of easy snack-avoidance. I'm not too happy that I'll be busy 2 nights in a row (leaving Tim to take care of Sam), but it's for the greater good.
Let's be ghost.*
*Peekskill lingo ca. 1992 for "Let us disappear now, so as not to be seen, akin to vaporous spirits vanishing into the dark night." We used both phrases all the time.

The Key to Saturday

Tim's work schedule has been brutal this summer, often leaving me feeling like a single mom. It's not something he has much control over, so I try not to be resentful and too whiny (me? whine?) but after endless weeks of it, I'm done, fried, irritated, and anxious for things to fall into a better pace stat.
Yesterday was just like most Saturdays this summer - Sam and I were on our own all day long. We do have a lot of fun, from the playground to running errands to whatever, but let's get real: he's 2 and we live in rural east Boringville... you thought I was going to call it something else didn't you? Something about a big fat bee doing the naughty? Well, we can call it that too in our heads, I won't tell.
You just can't have a total blast every day, and being in rural east Mumbletruck with no neighborhoods or sidewalks, we mostly have to drive to do stuff. Grr. Anyway, Samuel had a cranky morning and then decided (against my counsel) to skip his midday nap. This situation never turns out well: I depend on his daily nap to shower and do things that require my focus and attention, and I get very frustrated when I don't get this precious 90 minute reprieve. Sam in turn gets cranky and demanding for the rest of the afternoon which leads to a lot of time-outs. OK, so you get the idea, we're both Waaas and it's only 3pm. He ate his snack, and I suggested we go play outside for a little while.
We have a new back door with a new lockset/lever. It's the kind that is unlocked from the inside even if the outside is locked - you know, the STUPID kind designed to complicate life. I opened the door, helped Sam down the steps, and promptly locked us out. It's about 3:15 and Tim wasn't due home until 5:30.
I tried not to think about it for a while. We watered the garden, checked the mail, and rolled around on the lawn. I soon realized that the kitchen window was open, so I set up a ladder and was able to open the screen - yes! I decided against squeezing in, however, because I didn't think I could clear the faucet - the lovely Kohler faucet that was expensive.
We can't easily go for a walk ever because we live on a 55mph road. I walk it myself, but would never ever walk it with Sam or the stroller. Our property actually forms the corner of a state highway (the 55mph) and a nice gravel road called Calder Hill...Calder Hill is a nice walk, but it's steep and not toddler friendly. Before I had Sam, I would also walk an area across the road where there's a river access to the Susquehanna, some rough paths, and the town's transportation department equipment, sheds, etc. I haven't walked there with Sam because (and this is the truth) I have secret fears that maybe it might be polluted - it looks ok, but there's grown-over areas where people have dumped stuff, there's old culverts, rusty things, and so on.
It had to be almost 4 o'clock and Sam was bored and asking to go inside and play blocks. I put unfounded fears aside and walked Sam across the street and down toward the river. We stuck to the main paths and it was ok-ish. He really liked seeing the bulldozers and dump trucks. When we got to the access, someone was launching a boat, so we watched that. As we made our way back, we climbed the gravel mounds. Sam was totally into this - he would try to scramble up, only to slide back down and kick up dust and make noise. Of course during the fun, Fretful Mother kicked into gear and I freaked out that 1) he didn't have sunblock on and it was HOT, and 2) we might be breathing in too much rock dust, so I coaxed him down and we continued back to the house.
We were probably gone about 45 minutes...but I had no idea what time it was. We played in my car....I let Sam twist and push every knob and lever and climb from front to back to front to back. Yay. He asked me for water several times. What a bad, bad mommy. No water for her thirsty, sunburned, toxic-dump frolicking child. We had the garden hose of course, but I'm going for drama here. We were laying under the maple (I think it's the one Tim calls maple) when Tim finally pulled up. It was 5:36.
True to form, Tim never told me that he put a new spare key right in the garage. Even if I suspected that we might have a spare, I never would have looked in the place it actually was.

I had a feeling

Something about their wise and smiling expressions and their classic, clever design made me wonder recently if Duplos could be Lefties. This morning, I had no more doubts. They must have received the 3am text (yes, they carry cell phones), and worked together all night to find crayons and paper to make this sign. What a fun surprise! I had to take a picture. I must mention that a few have likely been influenced by our conversations and have become even more concerned and wise than the rest, thus being for Nader/Gonzalez - but clearly, they realize that in a broken and corrupt system, sometimes the next best thing is the only option.

Sam asked me what they were holding. He's too young for politics, so I explained that his little guys are very smart and industrious, and their deep patriotism enables them to recognize the need for sweeping change. He responded, "can I sweep with the broom, mommy?" He loves doing that, for about 5 seconds anyway.

So if McCain picks Romney, the opposition is going to be CryptKeeper/Dracula '08. I haven't thought about which toys in this house might be for uh that side, but I'll round 'em up for questioning. I suspect the dinosaurs, on account of their age and tiny brains.

One More!

Sorry for the 3rd post of the day, but I just saw this, and I think you need to be as outraged as I am - this is absolutely distressing and disgusting, particularly when it comes to disabled children. I was shocked to learn it's still legal in some states.

The school officials and other 'family values' groups that still support this archaic, stupid and ineffective method are monsters. Period. Just another of dozens of reasons our educational system is going down the drain fast.

http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/08/20/corporal.punishment/index.html#cnnSTCText

I attended school in Italy from 1980-1983 - at the time, the teachers there were permitted to hit students. The boys were hit the most, sadly...and how much does that promote further aggression? Please don't get me started. Anyway, I was smacked once, across the face, for whispering to my classmate while the teacher was talking. I told my parents when I got home. Despite the fact that they both grew up in the corporal punishment era AND I had the occasional spanking at home, they were livid that someone other than a parent would dare lay their hands on their child. They visited with the principal, and they forced her to sign an agreement that I would never be hit, or they would contact a lawyer. Obviously, I don't know how much legal leverage they would have if such a situation developed during that time, but they still made an effective point.

And Some Love

Top 10 Things I Like About Oneonta, NY

10) It’s pretty from a distance
9) Water Street (I’ll take the good with the bad – regardless, it’s unique)
8) SUNY Oneonta
7) Autumn Café
6) McLaughlin’s Shoes: old fashioned and Gordon is so nice
5) Both diners
4) The birthplace of GL & P, Inc. (Green, Ludden & Partners – telling you what’s hot and what’s not since 2001)
3) The Green Earth
2) Student influence
1) It's where Tim & I met (awwwwww - shut it)

Hate List for the O-peeps

Top 10 Things I Hate About Oneonta, NY

10) Razzle Dazzle’s hours – 9am to 2pm: seriously??

9) Oh look, another tanning salon!

8) 7, 135 dollar stores and counting

7) An hour from Albany, an hour from Binghamton, and an hour from Utica. Ugh.

6) The Eichler’s Seasonal Country Tree

5) J.C. Mini Penney & The Southside Small

4) Brooks BBQ: you know deep down it’s kinda gross

3) Franklin Mountain, mostly in the winter

2) Walmart Super Center

1) People who call it Onee-Ah-Na

Sometimes Nature is Off the Mark.

This thing was crawling - well, no -it was heaving itself across our front walk. It's some kind of caterpillar, clearly...but this big? Tim said he never saw one quite this size and shade of green and with this particularly weird tan-colored fuzz head. He pays much more attention to nature than I do, and therefore knows everything about it. For example, I know maybe 5 birds for sure: bluejay, eagle, pigeon, crow, and uh...parrot. Do chickens, ducks and turkeys count as birds I recognize? I'd probably recognize a vulture, but only if they're the kind that look like the creepy cartoon ones with the ring around the neck. He knows birds like sparrow and cardinal and lots other ones I can't think of.
Anyhoots, back to this monster: it looked like a tropical space caterpillar. At least, this is what I think a tropical space caterpillar would look like. A pregnant one. If The Very Hungry Caterpillar eventually turns into a beautiful butterfly, this one is the Food Addicted Morbidly Obese Caterpillar that eventually turns into Mothra.
I asked Tim to scoop it up and put it on the road. I went back inside. The inevitable happened. Tim said it made a loud pop. Mean? Meh - it could have made it to the road all on its own anyway, right? And who knows - it may have indeed been a space caterpillar, the actual first one about to reproduce on Earth and take over, so we might have just saved mankind.

Note: we later discovered (thank you Google the Great) it was a polyphemus moth caterpillar, known to feast on a variety of trees including maples (we have several on our property). It would have turned into a rather large so-so looking butterfly (or mothra). I had a moment of guilt thinking I had Tim place it where it would meet its doom, but the truth is that I don't really like butterflies. Sure, they're pretty when fluttering around at a distance, adding dreamy ooh and ahh to the scenery, but upclose they are big ugly scary bugs in fancy costumes. yikes.

2nd Friday Post

I won't do that too often, posting multiple times in a day...you'll think I'm enjoying myself too much, and that would take away from my cold and deep facade.

So Tim bought some used Lego-Duplos from Ebay to add to Sam's collection. They arrived today. After dinner, he opened the package, filled up the sink with soapy water and washed them (good). I was coming down the stairs when I heard a sound I couldn't quite make out...I get to the kitchen and Tim is drying the Legos IN THE SALAD SPINNER.

That's all.

I've ruined it!

Well, not really. It's more like prevention. I was asked to delete my last post about the bologna heist because it's an open case and people (including people who might read my blog) talk...that's what Tim says, anyway. I suppose he has a point, even IF it's a case of pilfered meats. I hate when that happens (when he has a point). If you had a chance to read it, lucky you, but keep it to yourself. The bologna must be surrendered!

Silly Rainy Monday

It has been raining steadily all morning. Sam and I ran some errands earlier (including a stop at my newest corporate enemy, Rite Aid...more on that in a future entry), then we got home and were were like soooo bored. We took some silly pictures, then we looked at them on the computer. Sam likes doing that - we talk about the pictures, what's going on in them, and blah blah. Fun stuff. Plus I sneak in an e-mail and weather check. He's playing in his room at the moment - but don't worry, we're both upstairs, and I check on him between crashing or shattering noises.

Look at our feet. Whose are cuter? C'mon! I know, Iknow, the ones without the flip flop tan lines.

The pics from the playground are from Saturday.

Wheee said D

To E, F, G





If you know what comes next, you can understand why it might be driving me MAD. Yea, I'll beat you to the top of the coconut tree, and then I'll take your CD and smash it and you will CRY.





It's actually a really cute CD and Book, Chicka Chicka Boom Boom - a gift from Sam's aunt and uncle...and no one is smashing anything and making anyone cry, that's my lyric. Basically it's all the alphabet letters animated and singing as they try to fit up in a coconut tree. Of course they fall, because they're letters and they have no common sense. It's very catchy, however, and Sam loooooves it, he loooooves it so much he likes to hear it over and over, particularly track 4, which is sung by little kids. So this is the problem...I can't get it out of my head, and I hear it when I'm falling asleep. Skit skat doodle doot flip flop fleeee! Tell me WTF happened to me? Wait, that last line is mine too, sorry.



Siding work continues on the house and it's looking very good.
The picture of Sam in the pool is a little old (early June), but I really like it and it coordinates with the Chicka Chicka Boom Boom colors. Strange, you say? Maybe you don't post your pictures with color coordination in mind, but some of us super cool people do - pay attention, maybe you might just wake up a tiny bit cooler tomorrow morning.

Siding!

They started to put up our new siding today - it looks great so far. Um...I don't have much else to write about for today. Peace and Love.

When we was fab

Maybe you remember this George Harrison tune - as cheesy as the song is, you have to admit the title says a lot, doesn't it? I was thinking about vacations today and how our budget is too stretched to travel this year, which in turn made me remember one of our best vacations. In 2005, Tim and I were wealthy (in relative terms) and child-free. We flew out to Seattle, rented a car, explored the Olympic Peninsula, and ended in Portland - the weather was gorgeous, the scenery even more so, and we just had a great time. We even talked about moving out there, however, as you can see, it didn't quite go that way. We haven't made it back yet, but we talk about it often.

The memory of this vacation has become sort of a turning point for me, a landmark along the way...I think it's really the last time we were carefree and full of energy and felt pretty invincible. We were fab. That's not to say we're not happy now - with Sam, life is the most joyful it has ever been. I guess I'm just stating the obvious that our life, like everyone else's, is nothing like it used to be. Every now and then I miss driving on a strange, new highway with no obligations, appointments, or limits. Maybe it's not the highway per se, but that feeling. Sigh.

Alive with dirty balls

My parents were in town Sunday night to do some repairs in their rental property, and they camped out in one of the empty apartments. In the morning, I headed over with Sam to hang around and chat while they fixed leaky faucets, sticky locks, and so on.

To my surprise, my mother hadn't packed their espresso maker. Yes, my freak parents take a stovetop espresso maker when they travel, along with the ceramic demitasses and spoons. It's not because they're trendy boomers-turned-coffee snobs: they're just Italian and have been drinking espresso over 'American' coffee for decades. On a recent trip, my grandmother joined them, and she brought a thermos of fresh espresso - somewhere along the highway, she decided it was time for a little treat, and poured espresso for everyone, into demitasse, AS my dad drove. Can you picture a speeding Camry, full of Italians balancing espresso cups?

Back to the point - they wanted coffee and I was sent out to get it. While I try to generally avoid McDonald's in my adult life, one is literally a 30 yard walk from the rental, so it was the quickest option for coffee. I'm waiting online and notice that this particular McD's has one of those kid 'fun zone' areas with the multilevel climby thingies and the nets and the chutes and the ball-filled chambers. It's HUGE and takes up the entire front of the building. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.
I'm still waiting when a group of kids file in (looks like a day camp troop?) and they beeline to it. This thing was suddenly alive - it's flexing and shifting along to accommodate all the little bodies twisting around inside it. Hard bass house music would have worked well, as it seemed to be breathing in rhythm. A family with toddlers show up, and they join in. I was suddenly horrified - not at the toddlers, but at the thought of how disgusting this thing could potentially be! I am not a germaphobe mother (I refuse to abuse antibacterial products when warm soapy water works for nearly all situations), but this is an exception...let's think about this:

• unlike hard surface playground equipment, indoor 'zones' are not exposed to rain and sunshine, plus they're made mostly of nylon and canvas stretched across the frames, with lots of nooks and crannies and ball pits
• Most toddlers are in diapers, and sick toddlers drip snot and whatever else at a pretty intense rate
• Older kids are not in diapers, but they're not very reliable hand washers
• Overly excited kids sometimes puke. Or sometimes they spit for fun.
• Poop can escape from diapers. You know it. I know it. I bet those plastic balls know it too.
• I doubt McDs employees are required to take everything down at night and wash it. I'm sure no one has ever wiped down each ball in the ball pit.

I guess what I'm saying is that if poop or puke presents itself somewhere in the fun zone, it's staying in the zone, until of course it rubs off on its visitors and gets to travel to new and exciting places.

Clearly, if your kids have played in one of these and they didn't come down with the plague, you might think I'm being ridiculous. That's fine. I can't guarantee that Sam won't EVER be using something like that - I know I won't be able to avoid it forever, and who's to say that one of his grandmas wouldn't sneak him in for secret fun against his pain-in-the-butt mother's wishes. I know this and I accept it. I'll just try to not think about poop smeared plastic balls.

Dings and Cobs

My mother-in-law is visiting this weekend from NC. This morning we took Sam out. As we settled into our seats she noticed my cd audio book (David Sedaris' newest novel, a gift from my friend Allison). As some of you know, I'm a huge Sedaris fan and you can imagine me running my mouth trying to explain his writing and blabbing that I saw him live last year (with Allison, also a devoted fan) and had one of my books autog--and then I backed into her car. Yep, I backed right into my mother-in-law's car in my own driveway...brilliant. I just forgot she'd parked behind me (sort of perpendicularly behind me) and I simply fell into habit and backed up barely paying attention.

My car has virtually no damage, but her rear driver side fender has a lovely ding. It's not that bad, really - probably less than $1,000 that will be covered by our insurance, but I still feel like a jackass. A ding-bat, really. She's not angry at all and kind of laughed it off to make me feel better. I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that they don't have a huge deductible.

So the day progresses and it's dinner time...we had tilapia and awesome fresh-picked sweet corn from the farm store down the road (Pie in the Sky for my local peeps). Sam hadn't had corn on the cob yet, but he mastered it right away. After he cleaned the kernels he was trying to eat right through the cobs!

Not sure what adventures tomorrow will bring with Grandma in town - will report anything amusing.

The Man of Steel

Let me introduce you to our newest family member - Superman. You probably know him from the movies and such, but you might be surprised to know that he's quite different in person. He's really short - like maybe 7 inches. He's totally ripped in a creepy steroids way. He's always smiling but rarely responsive. He can't take care of himself, but then again, he's plastic so he doesn't require all that much care. Sometimes his polyester cape smells strange. That said, he's Sam's best pal. Superman accompanies us almost everywhere, everyday: the store, the playground, the pool, and even just playing outside. If he's accidentally left behind, Sam will talk about him and how he's 'waitin' and 'i see him when we get home'. Superman sleeps in Sam's crib, takes a bath with him, and sits on his placemat at meal times.