1 turkey + 5 gallon bucket + 1 recipe brine = a very delicious bird
12 total hands + new door + a little brawn = bedroom moved up upstairs
6 adults + 1 little boy + 1 dog + 1 cat = fun visit
1 exhausted woman trying to have 1 actual vacation day out of the week off = pictures next post.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
The big update
Wow, so the deal is actually materializing. We are moving out, and up, and closer to work and to a residential area. Check, check and check. Verbal agreement turned into paper, turned into verbal acceptance of counter offer, along with sale of their own home actually happening which turns into this deal actually being for real. Now we wait for a few initials here and there, and it's all set into motion.
Of course I am too superstitious to throw a party just yet - appraisers and attorneys and banks all have to do their things without encountering any serious obstacles first...then, once we have identified both closing dates, we can get silly.
Here's how I foresee it (hopefully) happening: we close on the new house approximately end of September, then about 3 weeks later, we close on this house. This allows a nice chunk of time to make the move less stressful, as well as the enormous relief that we won't be carrying 2 mortgages until who-knows-when.
And now, a pictorial summary of our housing since we were married in 2002:
Our apartment in Oneonta (formerly Tim's icky bachelor pad) is now seasonal rentals for the local summer tourist attractions - I was so happy to find this site because the only snapshots I have of the place were pre-digital and I am waaaaay too lazy to scan. It's the same landlord, and I am pleased to see she kept some of the same colors we painted. It's looking cute (despite those window treatments). Ah, those were fun days. We really got that place spruced up. Rent was cheap. The place had issues, but for the time, it was great. We had the downstairs apartment(pictured first).
On December 30, 2003, we closed on our first and current home. It used to look like this on the outside, and we shan't speak of the wallpaper and other horrors inside:
We have re-done every thing since - every room inside, and everything outside, and in between. I'm not exaggerating one bit:
And soon, we will be living here - in a brand new, cape-cod style (love), open plan custom contemporary with wrap around deck on a gated 1 acre lot. Gated, as in enclosed with fence all around, with gates and stone entry pillars and sidewalks. And a gazebo. With power. I'm sorry, what? No, that's right. You read that right (I'm talking to myself here too - I have to say that over and over and I still hardly believe it). Some of the features are insanely custom (= quirky), but the finish quality of it all more than makes up for it. And have I mentioned we are getting a very good deal?
Note there are a few steps down and more sidewalk right where Tim and Sam are standing (they're not actually giants compared to the house). The building to the right is the garage, and the gazebo is behind the house. Yes, the garage has its own little matching deck. A little strange, but cute. That's the sort of thing I mean with insanely custom - I would have just opted for a bigger garage. Who knows. Might be a good spot for a band though. You can also make out a small section of white fencing to the left, behind the house. Well, I'm exhausted. Tim is at a poker game. Sam finally fell asleep (he took a long nap at preschool so he was bound to be a late bird tonight).
Keep us in your thoughts in the coming week, in hopes that everything will continue to go somewhat smoothly...
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Read my late night thoughts
I'm having some trouble falling asleep tonight. We've had a busy couple days, and I have to work in the morning, so I'm anxious about getting to sleep, but at the same time, I hate waiting in bed for sleep to come.
My throat has been feeling funny all day. I think I'm coming down with Something. I'm not surprised, as I haven't been taking very good care of myself recently - I can blame it on a number of things, but, well...you know.
It's not all bad though. We've had some recent activity in trying to sell our home. No offers yet, but spirits are high at the moment, and in my opinion, you gotta ride the waves, or it's no fun at all.
As I was drying the tub tonight, I realized that I might be a little crazy. After all, I'm drying the tub in preparation for another house showing. Got that? Bone-dry: We all took showers. I went last. Afterward, I stood inside the tub and dried the whole thing with a microfiber towel thingie. It's shiny. Maybe I've seen too many episodes of "Sell This House." Maybe my true calling is home staging.
Here's the way I see it: The market is slow. Buyers can be fickle right now. They don't have a sense of urgency and so they have time to be more critical. There are things about our home we can't control, such as location, age, and size. We can, however, control how it presents itself. I try to put myself in the buyer's shoes. If I'm looking at several homes, with comparable amenities and price points, I'm more likely to form some kind of attachment to the one that seems most cared for, most well-appointed, and clean. And if all things are equal? I'll take the one with the shiniest tub.
So, besides the obvious cleaning, de-cluttering, and de-personalizing, here's some details I have focused on since our house went on the market - you decide if I am indeed crazy:
-All sinks and fixtures shiny and...you guessed it - dry.
-I also waxed our tub. With car wax. It helps it stay cleaner longer.
-Paint on scuffed walls has been retouched.
-Asked my realtor do the hotel-style toilet paper fold, because I forgot
-Dish rack and sponge and dish soap stashed away (sparse counter top)
-Fresh cut flowers (from the property)
-Lemons and green grapes, arranged in a bowl for the kitchen table
-Perfect towel folding
-Handles, knobs, and hinges polished
-"Where's their TV?" Mwahahaha. What TV? We only read, mostly from the Western canon. OK, OK maybe not so much...I'm just closing the doors of the armoire. But it was enough to make a visitor wonder where the TV was.
-I go through every room and ask, "Might someone mistake this for Pottery Barn?"
Clearly, we are far from it, but it's a good guiding question. I'm not even trying to make you laugh.
-My good friend is pet-sitting the kitty. Traces of our feline pet are obliterated.
-I don't just make the beds - I style them.
-Toys are a fact. We have a child. I won't disrupt his life. But, they are clean, organized and contained in one area of the family room, and in his room. No toy migration is tolerated during this period.
-Plants are perfectly angled to maximize their planty goodness. I don't know what this really means, but I know it when it's right.
-I asked my husband to cut some wood, randomly, on his table saw, because it makes the basement smell good and crafty. As in craft-oriented.
-I looked up some articles on the psychology of colors and home staging. Yellow is cheerful and supposedly puts people in a shopping-positive mood. I have potted marigolds, as suggested.
Finally, this may be determining piece of evidence in my crazy trial: Someone of the Catholic faith, Superstitious Italian Sector, (and not in my family!) told me that St. Joseph is supposed to be the go-to Saint for home selling. Don't you love how there's a Saint for every problem? You're supposed to place a St. Joseph statue in your home or on your property. I put my mom on the case. She produced for me her very own St. Joseph figurine. Of course she did. He is nestled discreetly on my bookshelf near the front entrance. Should I put on my own restraints, or are you sending someone?
My throat has been feeling funny all day. I think I'm coming down with Something. I'm not surprised, as I haven't been taking very good care of myself recently - I can blame it on a number of things, but, well...you know.
It's not all bad though. We've had some recent activity in trying to sell our home. No offers yet, but spirits are high at the moment, and in my opinion, you gotta ride the waves, or it's no fun at all.
As I was drying the tub tonight, I realized that I might be a little crazy. After all, I'm drying the tub in preparation for another house showing. Got that? Bone-dry: We all took showers. I went last. Afterward, I stood inside the tub and dried the whole thing with a microfiber towel thingie. It's shiny. Maybe I've seen too many episodes of "Sell This House." Maybe my true calling is home staging.
Here's the way I see it: The market is slow. Buyers can be fickle right now. They don't have a sense of urgency and so they have time to be more critical. There are things about our home we can't control, such as location, age, and size. We can, however, control how it presents itself. I try to put myself in the buyer's shoes. If I'm looking at several homes, with comparable amenities and price points, I'm more likely to form some kind of attachment to the one that seems most cared for, most well-appointed, and clean. And if all things are equal? I'll take the one with the shiniest tub.
So, besides the obvious cleaning, de-cluttering, and de-personalizing, here's some details I have focused on since our house went on the market - you decide if I am indeed crazy:
-All sinks and fixtures shiny and...you guessed it - dry.
-I also waxed our tub. With car wax. It helps it stay cleaner longer.
-Paint on scuffed walls has been retouched.
-Asked my realtor do the hotel-style toilet paper fold, because I forgot
-Dish rack and sponge and dish soap stashed away (sparse counter top)
-Fresh cut flowers (from the property)
-Lemons and green grapes, arranged in a bowl for the kitchen table
-Perfect towel folding
-Handles, knobs, and hinges polished
-"Where's their TV?" Mwahahaha. What TV? We only read, mostly from the Western canon. OK, OK maybe not so much...I'm just closing the doors of the armoire. But it was enough to make a visitor wonder where the TV was.
-I go through every room and ask, "Might someone mistake this for Pottery Barn?"
Clearly, we are far from it, but it's a good guiding question. I'm not even trying to make you laugh.
-My good friend is pet-sitting the kitty. Traces of our feline pet are obliterated.
-I don't just make the beds - I style them.
-Toys are a fact. We have a child. I won't disrupt his life. But, they are clean, organized and contained in one area of the family room, and in his room. No toy migration is tolerated during this period.
-Plants are perfectly angled to maximize their planty goodness. I don't know what this really means, but I know it when it's right.
-I asked my husband to cut some wood, randomly, on his table saw, because it makes the basement smell good and crafty. As in craft-oriented.
-I looked up some articles on the psychology of colors and home staging. Yellow is cheerful and supposedly puts people in a shopping-positive mood. I have potted marigolds, as suggested.
Finally, this may be determining piece of evidence in my crazy trial: Someone of the Catholic faith, Superstitious Italian Sector, (and not in my family!) told me that St. Joseph is supposed to be the go-to Saint for home selling. Don't you love how there's a Saint for every problem? You're supposed to place a St. Joseph statue in your home or on your property. I put my mom on the case. She produced for me her very own St. Joseph figurine. Of course she did. He is nestled discreetly on my bookshelf near the front entrance. Should I put on my own restraints, or are you sending someone?
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Birthday Party!
Saturday we had Sam's 4th Birthday Party. His birthday fell on Monday the 24th.
We had 8 children under 5, plus a baby girl - I guess that's 9.
We also had a Spiderman pinata, and that was a big hit.
It was chaotic at times, but everyone had fun, and the meltdowns were brief and controlled.
The cake was home made by yours truly to go with the Spiderman theme - red velvet cake with blue frosting (not just any frosting - this was cream cheese, mascarpone cheese, and whipped cream). The whole cake was devoured...which is good news, because as of today, I am officially off the Sugar Train.
While tearing open gifts, Sam screamed, "This is the best birthday EVER!"
So even if he's only had four of them, I'll still take it.
We had 8 children under 5, plus a baby girl - I guess that's 9.
We also had a Spiderman pinata, and that was a big hit.
It was chaotic at times, but everyone had fun, and the meltdowns were brief and controlled.
The cake was home made by yours truly to go with the Spiderman theme - red velvet cake with blue frosting (not just any frosting - this was cream cheese, mascarpone cheese, and whipped cream). The whole cake was devoured...which is good news, because as of today, I am officially off the Sugar Train.
While tearing open gifts, Sam screamed, "This is the best birthday EVER!"
So even if he's only had four of them, I'll still take it.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Spring to Summer
Though it's a bit of an awkward shape and has some 'old house' issues, I love our living room. Last Sunday, I spent the morning dusting and swapping out some wintery stuff (like heavy drapes) for lighter, more summery accessories. My m-i-l gave us a big conch which works very well for this. I don't have a lot of tchotchkes because I was never much of a collector, and I don't have a lot of larger decorative items because generally speaking, I'm too cheap to buy them - instead I spend a lot of time rotating what I do have and trying to make them coordinate in different ways. It's like a fun decorating puzzle.
I added semi-sheer light cotton drapes for the season (Target). I think they lift the room and make it feel pretty and more seasonally appropriate:
Two summers ago we had some loose stones in our chimney reset, and we are lucky that the mason who originally created it 20 years ago lives a few houses up the road. He's retired and aging, but very skilled. For a ridiculously low hourly rate (as long as my husband agreed to do the heavier lifting and dealing with the scaffolding...which was fine by me - the dude is like 150 years old and the thought of him teetering near our rooftop was rather unsettling) he fixed the chimney and re-did our crumbling back steps to match. The same stone work surrounds our pellet stove inside - our mason friend told us it all came from the mountain behind our house. Even cooler.
Here's the chimney (before we re-did the deck). You can see the newer mortar is much brighter...all those stones had to be taken down, cleaned, and re-set.
Here's the back steps. The walkway (which is done now, but in progress here) is new too...there was old rotting decking there before, which we removed, and Tim added the pavers. He's so awesome. He really really is, and I adore him. Even though he doesn't clean up after his messy projects. He just figures things out and does them - from plumbing to carpentry to electrical stuff. If I were on my own with house issues such as we've had, I'd either a) moved into a condo, b) called my daddy and cried, or c) put a tarp down and called it a day. Permanently.
I'm proud to announce that I did some minimal weeding today (I hate yard work). I think maybe if I get really cute gardening gloves, possibly with matching gardening clogs, I might do it more often. We'll see. Anyway, in the scheme of all the overdue landscaping that needs tending to around this place, it's nothing, but it was satisfying. I also trimmed and tacked to perfect length the new drapes pictured above. Even more satisfying. Here's some cute floral pruning gauntlets. Yes. I think if I could ask, "Now where are my linen pruning gauntlets?" I might find myself doing yard work more often.
I let Sam play outside for about half an hour with no sunblock so he could make some vitamin D for the week - they really overdo the sunblock at preschool even though I wrote "only as needed" in his file...perhaps I should have been more specific: Allow him to be outside without sunblock for the first 5-10 minutes, then apply, and only May-September months. I suppose with multiple pre-schoolers to track, my request might be kinda picky. Then again, considering the tuition, they should be feeding him caviar...
He's finally more interested in non-scribble coloring and writing letters now too - all in all, he's slowly getting to the 'capable of entertaining self for extended periods of time' stage, which I've been waiting for, it seems, my whole life. One of these weekends I'm gonna count how many times I hear "Mommy". Just for kicks.
Hopefully his more consistent independence will allow us to actually do a little more outside this summer (ok, that was a lame excuse...whatever). Last year's garden was an epic fail, but I have high hopes for this summer. Not that I fret - if something doesn't do well, I don't try to slueth it out (is that even a legit term? Again - whatever. You know what I mean). No, I can't deal with trying to mitigate pests and diseases...I'm just not interested. My mantra is that if a plant can't survive under my basic care (water and sun), it just wasn't meant to be. I will really relish my 2 tomato crop...I'll let you know the day they are picked.
I added semi-sheer light cotton drapes for the season (Target). I think they lift the room and make it feel pretty and more seasonally appropriate:
Two summers ago we had some loose stones in our chimney reset, and we are lucky that the mason who originally created it 20 years ago lives a few houses up the road. He's retired and aging, but very skilled. For a ridiculously low hourly rate (as long as my husband agreed to do the heavier lifting and dealing with the scaffolding...which was fine by me - the dude is like 150 years old and the thought of him teetering near our rooftop was rather unsettling) he fixed the chimney and re-did our crumbling back steps to match. The same stone work surrounds our pellet stove inside - our mason friend told us it all came from the mountain behind our house. Even cooler.
Here's the chimney (before we re-did the deck). You can see the newer mortar is much brighter...all those stones had to be taken down, cleaned, and re-set.
Here's the back steps. The walkway (which is done now, but in progress here) is new too...there was old rotting decking there before, which we removed, and Tim added the pavers. He's so awesome. He really really is, and I adore him. Even though he doesn't clean up after his messy projects. He just figures things out and does them - from plumbing to carpentry to electrical stuff. If I were on my own with house issues such as we've had, I'd either a) moved into a condo, b) called my daddy and cried, or c) put a tarp down and called it a day. Permanently.
I'm proud to announce that I did some minimal weeding today (I hate yard work). I think maybe if I get really cute gardening gloves, possibly with matching gardening clogs, I might do it more often. We'll see. Anyway, in the scheme of all the overdue landscaping that needs tending to around this place, it's nothing, but it was satisfying. I also trimmed and tacked to perfect length the new drapes pictured above. Even more satisfying. Here's some cute floral pruning gauntlets. Yes. I think if I could ask, "Now where are my linen pruning gauntlets?" I might find myself doing yard work more often.
I let Sam play outside for about half an hour with no sunblock so he could make some vitamin D for the week - they really overdo the sunblock at preschool even though I wrote "only as needed" in his file...perhaps I should have been more specific: Allow him to be outside without sunblock for the first 5-10 minutes, then apply, and only May-September months. I suppose with multiple pre-schoolers to track, my request might be kinda picky. Then again, considering the tuition, they should be feeding him caviar...
He's finally more interested in non-scribble coloring and writing letters now too - all in all, he's slowly getting to the 'capable of entertaining self for extended periods of time' stage, which I've been waiting for, it seems, my whole life. One of these weekends I'm gonna count how many times I hear "Mommy". Just for kicks.
Hopefully his more consistent independence will allow us to actually do a little more outside this summer (ok, that was a lame excuse...whatever). Last year's garden was an epic fail, but I have high hopes for this summer. Not that I fret - if something doesn't do well, I don't try to slueth it out (is that even a legit term? Again - whatever. You know what I mean). No, I can't deal with trying to mitigate pests and diseases...I'm just not interested. My mantra is that if a plant can't survive under my basic care (water and sun), it just wasn't meant to be. I will really relish my 2 tomato crop...I'll let you know the day they are picked.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Rushed summary with no humor or sarcasm
Lately I feel like time runs out on me every day. What worries me most is that I'm not even indulging in my usual procrastination, making it kind of ridiculous to blame myself. Much of it has to do with my job, which, at times, is unbearably busy and I feel guilty that I am not doing work on weekends. Yuck.
I really needed a quick getaway. This weekend Tim and I used up the remaining 6 of our Comic Strip Live tickets (our first trip is another story). We had invited both my brothers and their girlfriends, but in the end, my youngest brother wasn't able to go, so I offered the tickets last minute to 2 old friends who are in the NYC area. We all knew one another in college, and I hadn't seen one in 5 years, the other in 10 years, and the two of them hadn't seen one another in nearly 10 years as well...so it worked out to be a nice little impromptu reunion.
We had a great meal at a french bistro on the Upper East Side before the show. The show itself was very funny - we saw Judah Friedlander (of 30 Rock) as well as Chuck Nice and Sherrod Small (you might remember then from Best Week Ever if you were into that). After, we were all pretty beat and went our separate ways. We are so old and weak. Tim and I stayed midtown and slept in.
The next day, we sort of killed some time having a late (very late) breakfast, and met Alex and his girlfriend Melissa again at the Museum of Modern Art. We had tickets to the Tim Burton exhibit (which ends this month). That was really quite good, and I'm glad I caught it.
We headed back to Grand Central in the late afternoon and had dinner with my parents (Sam was with them over that past 24 hour period, in case you were wondering). We were going to spend Sunday night at my grandparents, but, aching for our own bed made us decide to just drive home. We got in about midnight last night.
We also have a new kitten, who thanks to a couple of visits from my friend Allison, did not die of loneliness or hunger in our absence.
So clearly, I owe you a couple of better organized posts here, but I just wanted you to know what was up in the meantime.
Peace out, ass clowns.
I really needed a quick getaway. This weekend Tim and I used up the remaining 6 of our Comic Strip Live tickets (our first trip is another story). We had invited both my brothers and their girlfriends, but in the end, my youngest brother wasn't able to go, so I offered the tickets last minute to 2 old friends who are in the NYC area. We all knew one another in college, and I hadn't seen one in 5 years, the other in 10 years, and the two of them hadn't seen one another in nearly 10 years as well...so it worked out to be a nice little impromptu reunion.
We had a great meal at a french bistro on the Upper East Side before the show. The show itself was very funny - we saw Judah Friedlander (of 30 Rock) as well as Chuck Nice and Sherrod Small (you might remember then from Best Week Ever if you were into that). After, we were all pretty beat and went our separate ways. We are so old and weak. Tim and I stayed midtown and slept in.
The next day, we sort of killed some time having a late (very late) breakfast, and met Alex and his girlfriend Melissa again at the Museum of Modern Art. We had tickets to the Tim Burton exhibit (which ends this month). That was really quite good, and I'm glad I caught it.
We headed back to Grand Central in the late afternoon and had dinner with my parents (Sam was with them over that past 24 hour period, in case you were wondering). We were going to spend Sunday night at my grandparents, but, aching for our own bed made us decide to just drive home. We got in about midnight last night.
We also have a new kitten, who thanks to a couple of visits from my friend Allison, did not die of loneliness or hunger in our absence.
So clearly, I owe you a couple of better organized posts here, but I just wanted you to know what was up in the meantime.
Peace out, ass clowns.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Lazy is the new awesome
If you are still reading my blog, I thank you for your patience and unwavering faith that I would post once again.
We are nearly into the second week of June, and there's been a lot happening here...I won't go into much detail because I am a little low on creative juice levels necessary to make our fairly ordinary life sound impressive and exciting, so I'll just give you a brief run-down.
Sam's 3rd birthday party was fun - our friends with kids could not make it, but he didn't seem to mind and had had a blast. The Batman theme worked out well too.
The following weekend I began my last graduate class (5 Saturdays, 9-5). Three left! Then I can be the Mac Mommy with the M.A. and the S to the izzle, cause I'm the sha-zizzle. Or so I believe.
In the meantime, Tim has been busy trying to finish our back deck, and putting together the cedar play set Sam received as a gift from his Grandpa and Grandma "L."
Here's some pics!
Finally, I learned from my recent physical that I am/was vitamin-D deficient. This may have contributed to many of the troubles I've been experiencing the past year, and so about 10 days ago, I started mega-supplementing, and I'm happy to report that I am feeling pretty amazing. Sure, weather is probably helping, but it's also a big relief to know that what I was feeling and experiencing was not "all in my head."
And most recently:
Tonight our Weber grill (yea, I name dropped because now I officially hate them and Weber SUCKS) burst into flames. I'm not even trying to be dramatic. It really did...it was its season debut and we just wanted to grill up 3 little hamburgers. But NOOOOO....
Flames were shooting out of the valves and such, not a typical flare-up. Tim had to put it it out with the fire extinguisher. The knobs melted and I was really afraid the tank would blow, but he acted pretty quickly...we're not sure what the problem was. One of the burners went out last summer, and Tim suspected a valve defect, but now it's hard to say how much more might have been really going on. It's too bad, really, it was a sweet housewarming gift from Tim's parents. We'll have to shop for a new grill...I'm hoping we can wait until the end of the season for a better deal, but this means a whole summer with no grill, which kind of sucks.
Tonight was supposed to be a get-together of sorts here in town for a group of people I used to work with...it's also Alumni weekend, and that factored into the theme of the eve to some extent as well. After weeks of talk, most people backed out as of this afternoon. It is kind of disappointing, but, on the upside, I don't have to clean. Instead, I'm heading out with my friend Allison for some wine and mischief.
I'm off to get pretty...will check in again soon. With new shoes too. Really.
We are nearly into the second week of June, and there's been a lot happening here...I won't go into much detail because I am a little low on creative juice levels necessary to make our fairly ordinary life sound impressive and exciting, so I'll just give you a brief run-down.
Sam's 3rd birthday party was fun - our friends with kids could not make it, but he didn't seem to mind and had had a blast. The Batman theme worked out well too.
The following weekend I began my last graduate class (5 Saturdays, 9-5). Three left! Then I can be the Mac Mommy with the M.A. and the S to the izzle, cause I'm the sha-zizzle. Or so I believe.
In the meantime, Tim has been busy trying to finish our back deck, and putting together the cedar play set Sam received as a gift from his Grandpa and Grandma "L."
Here's some pics!
Finally, I learned from my recent physical that I am/was vitamin-D deficient. This may have contributed to many of the troubles I've been experiencing the past year, and so about 10 days ago, I started mega-supplementing, and I'm happy to report that I am feeling pretty amazing. Sure, weather is probably helping, but it's also a big relief to know that what I was feeling and experiencing was not "all in my head."
And most recently:
Tonight our Weber grill (yea, I name dropped because now I officially hate them and Weber SUCKS) burst into flames. I'm not even trying to be dramatic. It really did...it was its season debut and we just wanted to grill up 3 little hamburgers. But NOOOOO....
Flames were shooting out of the valves and such, not a typical flare-up. Tim had to put it it out with the fire extinguisher. The knobs melted and I was really afraid the tank would blow, but he acted pretty quickly...we're not sure what the problem was. One of the burners went out last summer, and Tim suspected a valve defect, but now it's hard to say how much more might have been really going on. It's too bad, really, it was a sweet housewarming gift from Tim's parents. We'll have to shop for a new grill...I'm hoping we can wait until the end of the season for a better deal, but this means a whole summer with no grill, which kind of sucks.
Tonight was supposed to be a get-together of sorts here in town for a group of people I used to work with...it's also Alumni weekend, and that factored into the theme of the eve to some extent as well. After weeks of talk, most people backed out as of this afternoon. It is kind of disappointing, but, on the upside, I don't have to clean. Instead, I'm heading out with my friend Allison for some wine and mischief.I'm off to get pretty...will check in again soon. With new shoes too. Really.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
May in full force
I have a love-hate relationship with May. I love it because:
- It's the month Sam was born.
- Though Spring arrives in April, it's not that pretty until May.
- With that, the weather is usually fantastic.
- Other important birthdays too - both my brothers and my mother in law.
- The academic year comes to an end and usually winds down some of my work.
- Sandals.
- Along with Mother's Day and all the birthdays, I stress. It feels chaotic.
- It signals that summer clothes season is here - I stress that nothing will fit, and stress that I'll feel bad about myself for not getting all skinny in time for summer. Again.
- The lawn has to be mowed, and we have a completely obscene amount of lawn. Not that I personally mow it, but I detest that it needs to be done. By Tim.
- May comes up and then just goes really fast...the first week has already flown by and I have barely planned for Sam's birthday.
- I generally don't like the beginnings of ends...summer will end at some point, you know. Then we'll be back to the misery of winter before we know it.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
He had to walk there
Yesterday morning my mom and I visited my Aunt, who just lost her sister on Thanksgiving, and her husband on Monday morning. It has been a rough week for my family and especially for her. Anyway, I was reluctant to bring Sam , but my husband and my mom thought that it would be ok, and thought that people would be happy to see him. So I brought him. And they were right.
On our way to my Aunt's house I explained to Sam, "Aunt Josephine is going to be sad, she's going to be crying, so if you want to, you can give her a hug." He didn't say much, and our visit was quiet and uneventful. He looked at her a lot, but was generally shy.
On our drive back home last night, as we do at some point each day, we recapped the morning's events. This was part of our conversation:
Me:
And after Zizi Josephine's, where did we go?
Sam:
To see the train - Zee Jofeen was crying. Why she was crying?
Me:
Because she was sad.
Sam:
Why is she sad?
Me:
Um. Well because she misses someone.
Sam:
Who she misses?
Me:
She misses Uncle Joe, she misses him a lot.
Sam:
Where he go?
Me:
Well, he had to go far away.
Sam:
Where he go far away?
Me:
To a special place.
Sam:
How did he get there? Who drive him?
Me:
He didn't drive there.
Sam:
He had to walk there.
Me:
Yes, he's resting there now, at the special place.
Sam:
He is walking around there.
Me:
Yes, he's walking around.
Sam:
When he coming back?
Me:
He's not coming back, he has to stay there. That's why Zizi Josephine misses him. He's very far away.
Sam:
He is far away, walking around there.
Me:
Yes, but he is happy and soon Zizi Josephine won't be too sad anymore and she'll feel better.
Sam:
She won't be sad.
That's about the best I could do in talking about death with a two year old. I think he did better than I did.
On our way to my Aunt's house I explained to Sam, "Aunt Josephine is going to be sad, she's going to be crying, so if you want to, you can give her a hug." He didn't say much, and our visit was quiet and uneventful. He looked at her a lot, but was generally shy.
On our drive back home last night, as we do at some point each day, we recapped the morning's events. This was part of our conversation:
Me:
And after Zizi Josephine's, where did we go?
Sam:
To see the train - Zee Jofeen was crying. Why she was crying?
Me:
Because she was sad.
Sam:
Why is she sad?
Me:
Um. Well because she misses someone.
Sam:
Who she misses?
Me:
She misses Uncle Joe, she misses him a lot.
Sam:
Where he go?
Me:
Well, he had to go far away.
Sam:
Where he go far away?
Me:
To a special place.
Sam:
How did he get there? Who drive him?
Me:
He didn't drive there.
Sam:
He had to walk there.
Me:
Yes, he's resting there now, at the special place.
Sam:
He is walking around there.
Me:
Yes, he's walking around.
Sam:
When he coming back?
Me:
He's not coming back, he has to stay there. That's why Zizi Josephine misses him. He's very far away.
Sam:
He is far away, walking around there.
Me:
Yes, but he is happy and soon Zizi Josephine won't be too sad anymore and she'll feel better.
Sam:
She won't be sad.
That's about the best I could do in talking about death with a two year old. I think he did better than I did.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Tales from the cold
I'm suffering from a miserable cold, passed on from my husband. I even called him a big baby about it, and as karma would have it, I'm about to be the biggest Waaaa this side of the Hudson.
What's not to love about a cold? You sound miserable, so everyone is nice to you. People suddenly care about you getting sleep and rest and eating well. And for the most part, people leave you alone, keeping a safe distance from your germy aura and all your germy possessions.
But alas, lonely and phlegmy is the cold sufferer.
A few observations about having a cold:
It always amazes me that one nostril can be completely clogged, and yet drip.
Burning, watery, and sensitive eyes make you look like you are outrageously high.
I get excited about those few moments in the day when my sinuses break up and I can get a thorough nose-blowing. Feels great for about 2 minutes after, then you clog up again something fierce.
Trying to fall asleep at night is a joke. Somehow, you manage, but it really hurts in the morning.
Blowing your nose in your hand in the steamy hot shower is gross. But it's soo good. You do it too, don't front.
You feel a little like your Great Aunt [fill in old-fashioned name] with all the little tissue wads in every pocket.
I completely lose my sense of smell, and therefore, most of my sense of taste. I know 2 people that claim they can still taste just fine. Freaks! If you are one, reveal yourself...you are lucky indeed...or you are liars.
What's not to love about a cold? You sound miserable, so everyone is nice to you. People suddenly care about you getting sleep and rest and eating well. And for the most part, people leave you alone, keeping a safe distance from your germy aura and all your germy possessions.
But alas, lonely and phlegmy is the cold sufferer.
A few observations about having a cold:
It always amazes me that one nostril can be completely clogged, and yet drip.
Burning, watery, and sensitive eyes make you look like you are outrageously high.
I get excited about those few moments in the day when my sinuses break up and I can get a thorough nose-blowing. Feels great for about 2 minutes after, then you clog up again something fierce.
Trying to fall asleep at night is a joke. Somehow, you manage, but it really hurts in the morning.
Blowing your nose in your hand in the steamy hot shower is gross. But it's soo good. You do it too, don't front.
You feel a little like your Great Aunt [fill in old-fashioned name] with all the little tissue wads in every pocket.
I completely lose my sense of smell, and therefore, most of my sense of taste. I know 2 people that claim they can still taste just fine. Freaks! If you are one, reveal yourself...you are lucky indeed...or you are liars.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Team Bride
On my drive home from work, I was listening to *my girl* Terry Gross interviewing the writer of the new film Rachel Getting Married, which is supposed to be the un-wedding movie in terms of its more serious plot line. I may or may not see it, but something the writer said struck me - in explaining how she came up with the story, she pointed out that the 'preparation' of the bride is something that has been with us for thousands of years, across all cultures, and the women involved become fully immersed in helping the bride with this big step in her life. It was really a lovely and sweet observation.
My commute is the only time I have to space out a little and think creatively these days (don't worry, I still manage to keep the car on the road). It's often where ideas for the blog, for work, or for taking over the world are born. Most (ideas) don't survive the trip, but in the meantime, they keep me from cursing the gas gauge. Even before today's program, brides were on my mind because of a recent rash of nuptials among my friends and colleagues, so I've been looking at a LOT of wedding pictures.
In most wedding photos, the bride is by far the most interesting subject. This is expected - she spent weeks (months) planning the details: from the major visual of the dress right down to the shade of lipstick. Even the most modest bride knows the spotlight won't ignore her that day. When the writer talked about the preparation of a bride, I naturally thought back to my own experience. I caved to nearly every pressure to follow tradition: the church, the flowers, the dress, the bridesmaids, the reception, and so on. That said, I don't regret our 'big wedding' because it was fun and whirlwind and we were surrounded by people we love. And yet, I've never been able to completely turn off the little voice that suggested eloping, escaping, and getting married somewhere far away and unique with no stress and no frills. I'm certain these are not uncommon internal debates among brides, but I do wonder how common it is to still be thinking about it six years out.
Thanks to that random radio commentary today, I went back to a few months before our wedding, and I remembered how each woman in my life joyously contributed to the ritual of preparing me to take my own big step - my grandmothers who came to my fittings and told me about their wedding day, my fretful mother that wanted it to be perfect for everyone, my mother-in-law who wanted whatever Tim and I wanted, my bridesmaids that hung on my every silly directive, my girlfriends that called weekly and asked if there was anything I needed, big or small, the flower girl that practiced her walk, and even the seamstress who made me feel like a model. I had a team, really. If there's one thing that now tips the scale and turns off that little voice, it's realizing that in preparing to be a bride, I, along with these women, took part in an ageless tradition, and I am grateful for having had the experience.
My commute is the only time I have to space out a little and think creatively these days (don't worry, I still manage to keep the car on the road). It's often where ideas for the blog, for work, or for taking over the world are born. Most (ideas) don't survive the trip, but in the meantime, they keep me from cursing the gas gauge. Even before today's program, brides were on my mind because of a recent rash of nuptials among my friends and colleagues, so I've been looking at a LOT of wedding pictures.
In most wedding photos, the bride is by far the most interesting subject. This is expected - she spent weeks (months) planning the details: from the major visual of the dress right down to the shade of lipstick. Even the most modest bride knows the spotlight won't ignore her that day. When the writer talked about the preparation of a bride, I naturally thought back to my own experience. I caved to nearly every pressure to follow tradition: the church, the flowers, the dress, the bridesmaids, the reception, and so on. That said, I don't regret our 'big wedding' because it was fun and whirlwind and we were surrounded by people we love. And yet, I've never been able to completely turn off the little voice that suggested eloping, escaping, and getting married somewhere far away and unique with no stress and no frills. I'm certain these are not uncommon internal debates among brides, but I do wonder how common it is to still be thinking about it six years out.
Thanks to that random radio commentary today, I went back to a few months before our wedding, and I remembered how each woman in my life joyously contributed to the ritual of preparing me to take my own big step - my grandmothers who came to my fittings and told me about their wedding day, my fretful mother that wanted it to be perfect for everyone, my mother-in-law who wanted whatever Tim and I wanted, my bridesmaids that hung on my every silly directive, my girlfriends that called weekly and asked if there was anything I needed, big or small, the flower girl that practiced her walk, and even the seamstress who made me feel like a model. I had a team, really. If there's one thing that now tips the scale and turns off that little voice, it's realizing that in preparing to be a bride, I, along with these women, took part in an ageless tradition, and I am grateful for having had the experience.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
A Family Phonetics Lesson
U.S. born children of immigrants are often referred to as first generation. Their children are second generation. I never was quite sure how we stacked up - our dad immigrated but our mother is first generation. When my brothers and I were born ('75, '83, '85), most of the living family members were immigrants, so I suppose if pressed, I'd go with first generation.
For me, growing up in a tightly knit Italian household was as joyful as it was frustrating. Of course, this is an adult realization. It's a little obscured when you're a teenager.
For every ridiculous, unfair, superstitious, racist, and nonsensical comment or directive, there was also unshakable family unity, unquestionable love, an abundance of physical affection, and very very little pretense - or silence, for that matter. Everyone knows just about everything and says just about everything and there's no reason to feel awkward about it. Occasionally this complicates matters in adulthood, but most of the time, it's a complete comfort.
Oh, enough of the grandstanding. Here's where I make fun of the people I love:
American English: I'm going to Poughkeepsie.
Italian Aunt/Grandma/Relative: Wha? You go a Poo-KEEPS? Why?
AE: I don't want to take a bath yet.
IAGR: You gettin da bat-tub. You deesgust.
AE: I need a toothpick.
IAGR: I got toot-peeks in da cabinet.
AE: That will be $13.35 please.
IAGR: Turrteen Turrdee Five. Here you go.
For me, growing up in a tightly knit Italian household was as joyful as it was frustrating. Of course, this is an adult realization. It's a little obscured when you're a teenager.
For every ridiculous, unfair, superstitious, racist, and nonsensical comment or directive, there was also unshakable family unity, unquestionable love, an abundance of physical affection, and very very little pretense - or silence, for that matter. Everyone knows just about everything and says just about everything and there's no reason to feel awkward about it. Occasionally this complicates matters in adulthood, but most of the time, it's a complete comfort.
Oh, enough of the grandstanding. Here's where I make fun of the people I love:
American English: I'm going to Poughkeepsie.
Italian Aunt/Grandma/Relative: Wha? You go a Poo-KEEPS? Why?
AE: I don't want to take a bath yet.
IAGR: You gettin da bat-tub. You deesgust.
AE: I need a toothpick.
IAGR: I got toot-peeks in da cabinet.
AE: That will be $13.35 please.
IAGR: Turrteen Turrdee Five. Here you go.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
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?
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?
Sunday, August 24, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, August 4, 2008
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:
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.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
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.
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