Last Chanukah, Juliana got the Rachael Ray's 30 Minute Meals for Kids cookbook. We've used it quite a few times with success. (Juliana is particularly fond of the shrimp and angel hair recipe.) She went through it again the other day and picked two new things to try: mini quiches and orange-pineapple smoothies.
Seeing as I was on the couch with my tissue box all day, my mom offered to pick up what I needed at the store. The quiches called for mini phyllo cups but the store only had the long sheets of phyllo dough. I did some research on how to turn those into cups and decided to brave it. I've never worked with phyllo dough before, but that's why I like cooking with Juliana; it wouldn't occur to her not to try something because she'd never done it before. Together, we managed to get four layers of phyllo laid out and brushed with melted butter. I cut them into twelve rectangles and we formed them into little cups in the muffin tin. She filled them with bacon and shredded cheese and spoonfuls of beaten egg. While they were baking up golden, we worked on the smoothies.
Here's what you need to know. David eats apples. That is the extent of the fruits and vegetables in his diet. (Although this winter he did start eating clementines (the citrus fruit, not the toddler) on a semi-regular basis) He will claim that eating potatoes counts. Also, pumpkin pie. Now, I've tried making him smoothies before, but he couldn't deal with the texture. Here's what went into these ones: frozen orange juice concentrate, frozen strawberries, light coconut milk, pineapple chunks, light vanilla yogurt. We whirred it all up and he drank the whole thing! Did I mention strawberries? Pineapple? The words "I never thought I'd live to see the day" actually escaped my lips. (I fully expect him to be 4 inches taller in the morning.)
God knows Rachael Ray drives me nuts. She's a needy talker and I can't get past her lack of neck, but David has tried and liked nearly everything Juliana has made out of this cookbook-- including the four mini-quiches he had for dinner.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Something Kind Of Cool
A few years back, I posted about another little girl named Juliana whose journey was documented on TLC. I was moved enough by her story and experience to write to her family and send a donation. Two days ago, I received a holiday card from Juliana's night nurse, Jeanne. I figured that donating money had put me on their mailing list. Along with the card, I found the following letter:
Dear Janet,
Since the note your wrote to the Wetmore's you may have seen Juliana's documentaries, Born Without A Face and Building a Face. The film crew was here last week filming another update. They were fascinated by the amount and quality of mail Juliana has received, and filmed me reading from several of the letters. As a courtesy, I am letting you know that I read a portion of the letter you wrote, because you expressed so eloquently what many people feel. I did not reveal your name or address and gave no information that would identify you, I just read the part of your letter, the part that says, "I feel like knowing about Juliana and your family has somehow made me more connected to the entire human race. I feels such compassion for her and it makes me a more caring person in general". I don't know the name of the documentary yet, or when it will be aired, but I'm sure everyone watching it will be moved by your words.
I am so amazed that something I wrote 2 1/2 years ago stayed with her and still held meaning. It was one of those little gestures that, truthfully, I almost never take the time to make. But I did and it has come back to me in a powerful way.
Dear Janet,
Since the note your wrote to the Wetmore's you may have seen Juliana's documentaries, Born Without A Face and Building a Face. The film crew was here last week filming another update. They were fascinated by the amount and quality of mail Juliana has received, and filmed me reading from several of the letters. As a courtesy, I am letting you know that I read a portion of the letter you wrote, because you expressed so eloquently what many people feel. I did not reveal your name or address and gave no information that would identify you, I just read the part of your letter, the part that says, "I feel like knowing about Juliana and your family has somehow made me more connected to the entire human race. I feels such compassion for her and it makes me a more caring person in general". I don't know the name of the documentary yet, or when it will be aired, but I'm sure everyone watching it will be moved by your words.
I am so amazed that something I wrote 2 1/2 years ago stayed with her and still held meaning. It was one of those little gestures that, truthfully, I almost never take the time to make. But I did and it has come back to me in a powerful way.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Guest Blogger!
Blog, schmog....who has time for this? Now I am stooping to the lowest of the low. Elissa posted a story her 8 year old started and it inspired me to post the one Juliana is currently working on. (She's 8 as well and went to preschool with Chloe.)
Consider it a guest blogger and not a cop-0ut, 'kay?
Consider it a guest blogger and not a cop-0ut, 'kay?
The Magic Shoes by Juliana
DEDICATED TO ALL GUINEA PIGS
Mia Watson had an unbelievable imagination. She had written stories that had even been published! There was a door in Mia’s room that had never been opened before. Mia loved to make up stories about it. One day Mia went up to her room and saw that the door was open!!!!!!!!! She looked inside saw a pair of ruby red high heels with glitter on them. Mia tried them on. It felt like she was walking on clouds. “Oh.” Mia whispered “I feel like I am floating.” Then she noticed that some of the glitter from her shoe had come off. Now it was circling her feet….
The tornado got stronger and stronger. Finally it lifted Mia of the ground!!!!! Soon the tornado stopped. Mia looked around. If you looked hard, you could see a castle in the distance. The grass was emerald green. Mia was standing in a beautiful garden. She looked at herself. She was wearing a purple silk dress. That’s funny. Mia thought. I don’t remember wearing that. Then it hit her, she had gone back in time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I cannot believe this. Mia thought. I must be dreaming. I can’t be in the time of dragons and knights. And in this time you don’t know what will happen….
Suddenly she heard a small voice. It said, “I can help you”. A little guinea pig crawled out of the bushes. “I am Julia.” The guinea pig said. “And I want to help you.” “Oh will you?” Mia exclaimed. “Yes.” Julia said. “Let’s get started.” Mia saw a trail of rocks and a block of wood that said, HOME in big letters. “Do you think we should follow that?” Julia said sarcastically. “Well duh!” Mia said. So off they went having no idea what was in store for them….
It was not long before trouble started. The two had not been walking for long when the rocks got to a quicksand river. They could see the rocks across the river but, there was no way to get across. “Well that’s a problem.” Julia said. “You think!” Mia said. “Well, there is some wood over there. We could build a bridge.” Julia suggested. “Good idea!” Mia said. “But how can we?” Julia thought about that for a moment. “Maybe we shouldn’t do that.” She said. “We could just jump.” Mia suggested. “Okay.” Julia said. “Great! I will jump with you in my arms. Be careful.” So they jumped. “WOOOOO WHOOOOOO” The girls shouted. When they got across they started to follow the rocks again. They walked and walked.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
I Should Not Be Allowed To Live Independently
I'm not sure where to start this charming anecdote. I think I'll go with the stressful board meeting I attended this morning. The one where I savagely chewed on bagels to keep from grinding the enamel off of my teeth. And to wash down those bagels, I enjoyed about three times as much coffee as I usually have.
Fast forward to just after lunch time when my phone rang. I picked it up with such gusto that I slammed the receiver into my face. In attempting to right my grip on the receiver (and probably in recoil from the blow to my jaw), the phone flew out of my hand with such force that it hit the edge of the kitchen counter, the plastic belt clip flew off in one direction and the phone skittered to a stop on the wood floor. David picked it up and explained to my mom what happened: "Mom just hit herself in the face with the phone, then dropped it." I think it was the everyday, matter-of-fact tone he used that put my mother into such hysterics that she couldn't even speak.
Now you'll excuse me while I go check for a bruise.
Fast forward to just after lunch time when my phone rang. I picked it up with such gusto that I slammed the receiver into my face. In attempting to right my grip on the receiver (and probably in recoil from the blow to my jaw), the phone flew out of my hand with such force that it hit the edge of the kitchen counter, the plastic belt clip flew off in one direction and the phone skittered to a stop on the wood floor. David picked it up and explained to my mom what happened: "Mom just hit herself in the face with the phone, then dropped it." I think it was the everyday, matter-of-fact tone he used that put my mother into such hysterics that she couldn't even speak.
Now you'll excuse me while I go check for a bruise.
Monday, October 27, 2008
A Personal Best
Last night we went to dinner at Red Lobster which is Juliana's favorite place to eat. She has a passion for shrimp scampi which probably dates back to the time I ate my weight in shrimp while pregnant with her. If you asked her to rank her favorite holidays, it would probably look like this: Chanukah, Diwali, and Endless Shrimp. Last night she scored a new personal best and ate 40 shrimp. (I am so proud! Can the hot dog eating contest be far behind?)
Luckily we didn't have a repeat of when she was six. That time she managed to down 34 shrimp. A few minutes after finishing she reported:
"I can feel them swimming around in my stomach!"
followed closely by:
"I have a lot of spit in my mouth."
I whisked her out of the restaurant and into the cold night air which settled her stomach and averted disaster. Now I just need to teach her to binge drink....
Luckily we didn't have a repeat of when she was six. That time she managed to down 34 shrimp. A few minutes after finishing she reported:
"I can feel them swimming around in my stomach!"
followed closely by:
"I have a lot of spit in my mouth."
I whisked her out of the restaurant and into the cold night air which settled her stomach and averted disaster. Now I just need to teach her to binge drink....
Monday, October 13, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Moving On
Ok, so AOL Journals is going to be gone soon. Not sure what I'm going to do....I may transfer over to Blogger or I may just write on Facebook. I assume most anybody who reads is already on my friend list. If you lurk and want to keep reading, shoot me an email (Indy1016@aol.com) so I can figure out what will work best.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Lymph Node Revisited
As you all know, I started with a swollen lymph node two weeks ago. I
emailed my doctor last week and she said that if it didn't resolve over
the next week to come see her. It was still swollen (particularly in
the mornings) so I made an appointment for Friday. Yesterday, though,
I started feeling pressure in the left side of my neck. It felt like
something was pushing on my throat from the inside. It didn't
interfere with swallowing, but it didn't feel normal. I called the
doctor and was able to move my appointment up to today.
My ever-helpful husband is, of course, on the other side of the continent. That didn't help my stress level. I went off to the doctor this morning with the very real feeling that this could a life-changing day. I just knew that whatever I was feeling shouldn't be there. I actually contemplated packing a bag and having it in the car since I was sure there was a good chance they were going to throw me directly into the hospital. (Now before you think I am 100% insane, I did have an incident about 12 years ago when they sent me off to have an MRI of my brain and then threw me directly into the hospital.)
I got to the doctor's office and was so on edge that I literally jumped and yelped when the nurse called me back.
When my doctor came in, I told her my story. She listened carefully, while typing notes into my chart. I love my doctor because I can tell her things like my two self-diagnosis theories: 1. A spider bit my neck and now there is an egg sac growing there which will soon burst open with tiny spider babies and 2. Clearly Lymphoma.
She got up and started to feel my neck. She finally got to the gland I was concerned about. She stopped to feel her own neck for comparison. She felt my neck some more. She then told me, "I am not even close to freaking out about this".
Her plan of action was to give it another week or so and she suggested I take some anti-inflammatories. I couldn't believe her spectacular lack of concern. Why was she not rushing me off for bloodwork or a CT scan? For God's sake, she just gave me another variation of "it's probably viral". Seeing that I was not yet willing to give up my grasp on a dramatic outcome, she did refer me to ENT. She suggested I schedule an appointment with them and then, if things resolved, to cancel it.
As I went to leave, she gave me one last piece of advice: I was forbidden to touch my neck. No poking, no pressing on the gland, no feeling for swelling, no nothing. She then went on to tell me how she once went to her own doctor with (and she used air quotes here) "breast cancer" which was really a pulled muscle in her chest wall that she aggravated and irritated by poking and jabbing to feel the "tumor".
I thanked her and assured her that I'd be the first to tell her "I told you so" when the baby spiders were born. She offered to take one as a pet when that happened. I left and I have no doubt she finished off by adding the "crazy munchausen hypochondriac" code to my chart.
My ever-helpful husband is, of course, on the other side of the continent. That didn't help my stress level. I went off to the doctor this morning with the very real feeling that this could a life-changing day. I just knew that whatever I was feeling shouldn't be there. I actually contemplated packing a bag and having it in the car since I was sure there was a good chance they were going to throw me directly into the hospital. (Now before you think I am 100% insane, I did have an incident about 12 years ago when they sent me off to have an MRI of my brain and then threw me directly into the hospital.)
I got to the doctor's office and was so on edge that I literally jumped and yelped when the nurse called me back.
When my doctor came in, I told her my story. She listened carefully, while typing notes into my chart. I love my doctor because I can tell her things like my two self-diagnosis theories: 1. A spider bit my neck and now there is an egg sac growing there which will soon burst open with tiny spider babies and 2. Clearly Lymphoma.
She got up and started to feel my neck. She finally got to the gland I was concerned about. She stopped to feel her own neck for comparison. She felt my neck some more. She then told me, "I am not even close to freaking out about this".
Her plan of action was to give it another week or so and she suggested I take some anti-inflammatories. I couldn't believe her spectacular lack of concern. Why was she not rushing me off for bloodwork or a CT scan? For God's sake, she just gave me another variation of "it's probably viral". Seeing that I was not yet willing to give up my grasp on a dramatic outcome, she did refer me to ENT. She suggested I schedule an appointment with them and then, if things resolved, to cancel it.
As I went to leave, she gave me one last piece of advice: I was forbidden to touch my neck. No poking, no pressing on the gland, no feeling for swelling, no nothing. She then went on to tell me how she once went to her own doctor with (and she used air quotes here) "breast cancer" which was really a pulled muscle in her chest wall that she aggravated and irritated by poking and jabbing to feel the "tumor".
I thanked her and assured her that I'd be the first to tell her "I told you so" when the baby spiders were born. She offered to take one as a pet when that happened. I left and I have no doubt she finished off by adding the "crazy munchausen hypochondriac" code to my chart.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Having A Doctor In The Family Isn't As Helpful As You Might Think
On Friday, I noticed that a lymph node under my jaw was swollen.
Earlier in the week, I'd noticed a red and itchy spot on my neck where
something had bitten me. I assumed the two were probably connected.
The next morning, though, the swelling was much worse. Seeing as I
tend toward hypochondria anyhow, I quizzed my doctor husband. He, as
usual, was unconcerned. He, as usual, dismissed it as possibly being
something viral. He knows I hate being told that. (Ok, sure, I once paged him at work to tell him I was positive
I had anthrax. That one did turn out to be a virus, actually.)
We had the following conversation over breakfast:
Me: Don't forget about the bite on my neck....maybe some kind of spider bit me. Maybe it was a brown recluse!
Him: They don't live around here.
Me: But this isn't normal.
Him: Does the floor of your mouth feel ok?
Me: (panicking slightly and poking around with my tongue) I think so. Yes. Why? What does that mean?
Him: Just making sure you don't have any sort of infection there.
Me: Well, what symptoms should I look out for?
Him: (without looking up from the newspaper) Difficulty breathing.
Me: (trying unsuccessfully not to shriek) What? Don't say that! That's not funny! Why would you say that when you know you're leaving town tomorrow? What am I going to do?
Him: (finally turning to look at me and speaking in a voice usually reserved for slow children): Do you want me to show you where the 9 and the 1 are on the phone?
We had the following conversation over breakfast:
Me: Don't forget about the bite on my neck....maybe some kind of spider bit me. Maybe it was a brown recluse!
Him: They don't live around here.
Me: But this isn't normal.
Him: Does the floor of your mouth feel ok?
Me: (panicking slightly and poking around with my tongue) I think so. Yes. Why? What does that mean?
Him: Just making sure you don't have any sort of infection there.
Me: Well, what symptoms should I look out for?
Him: (without looking up from the newspaper) Difficulty breathing.
Me: (trying unsuccessfully not to shriek) What? Don't say that! That's not funny! Why would you say that when you know you're leaving town tomorrow? What am I going to do?
Him: (finally turning to look at me and speaking in a voice usually reserved for slow children): Do you want me to show you where the 9 and the 1 are on the phone?
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Three Things
Three funny things David said today:
1. This morning I had encouraged him to change from shorts to long pants as it was quite chilly. By the afternoon, though, it had warmed up considerably. Leaving school he announced loudly, "I am NOT wearing pants to school tomorrow!"
2. Upon finding out that there is a new kid named "Coyote" in his lily-white suburban school, he said to me very sincerely, "I bet he's Native American."
3. Ritu was watching Candy Crowley reporting on the news. David looked at her and observed "That's a bulky lady."
1. This morning I had encouraged him to change from shorts to long pants as it was quite chilly. By the afternoon, though, it had warmed up considerably. Leaving school he announced loudly, "I am NOT wearing pants to school tomorrow!"
2. Upon finding out that there is a new kid named "Coyote" in his lily-white suburban school, he said to me very sincerely, "I bet he's Native American."
3. Ritu was watching Candy Crowley reporting on the news. David looked at her and observed "That's a bulky lady."
Back To School
Today is the first day of school! I'm sitting here in complete silence and I couldn't be happier. David started 6th grade (his last year at the elementary school <sniff>) and Juliana is in third. David has the same teacher as last year as he is in a 5/6 blend. Juliana moved up to a new teacher, but it's the same one David had for 3rd and 4th grade so we were all pleased. Here are the little angels this morning:
As has been our custom on the first day of school for the last three years, a group of us went out to lunch. This year we went to a new Thai restaurant in town. It's a lovely sunny place with those pretty jewel colored pendant lights hanging down. As our group numbered 10, they pushed some tables together to accommodate all of us. I was one of the last to arrive so I ended up at the far end of the table. After we ordered, I walked down to talk to my friends at the other end. There was a long banquette running along one side, so I sat there and chatted until the waitress started bringing the food. I got up to make my way back to my seat and as I stood, my head hit something hard. Turns out that when they pushed together the tables, it left one of pendant lights just hanging over empty space. Well, I shouldn't say empty space; in fact, it was the space my head was occupying when I stood up. I tried to play it off and managed to walk back to my chair without clutching my head with both hands. I'd hit the light with such force that it was still swinging madly on it's wire when the waitress returned and I saw her actually reach up and steady it with her hand. Nothing says back to school like Thai food and a head injury.
As has been our custom on the first day of school for the last three years, a group of us went out to lunch. This year we went to a new Thai restaurant in town. It's a lovely sunny place with those pretty jewel colored pendant lights hanging down. As our group numbered 10, they pushed some tables together to accommodate all of us. I was one of the last to arrive so I ended up at the far end of the table. After we ordered, I walked down to talk to my friends at the other end. There was a long banquette running along one side, so I sat there and chatted until the waitress started bringing the food. I got up to make my way back to my seat and as I stood, my head hit something hard. Turns out that when they pushed together the tables, it left one of pendant lights just hanging over empty space. Well, I shouldn't say empty space; in fact, it was the space my head was occupying when I stood up. I tried to play it off and managed to walk back to my chair without clutching my head with both hands. I'd hit the light with such force that it was still swinging madly on it's wire when the waitress returned and I saw her actually reach up and steady it with her hand. Nothing says back to school like Thai food and a head injury.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
A Vote In Favor Of Online Shopping
Well, I managed to outdo myself today.
This morning I had the chance to go shopping and have lunch with a girlfriend. It was one of the rare chances I've had to be out and about like a grown up all summer long. We went to an art festival where we browsed to our heart's content. Then we did some shopping. You know how some days nothing fits or even looks worth trying on? Today I was having an "on" day. I found things I liked that fit, looked good, and were even on sale. I tell you, I was on a roll. We stopped to have lunch at a nice restaurant overlooking the water. My friend put it perfectly when she described our day as "civilized".
After lunch we decided to continue shopping. We wandered into an Anthropologie type store that I would never usually bother with. But I was on a hot streak! I decided to try on some trendy tops to see if the magic would continue. As I pulled one over my head, the collar sort of flipped and the price tag, which was made of heavy duty card stock flew up and hit me in the face. I checked for damage in the mirror, and sure enough, the tag had sliced the edge of my nostril. I was actually bleeding. And did I have a tissue in my purse? Of course not. My friend offered to get me one, but all she could come up with was a paper towel. The good news is that I managed to not bleed on any of the merchandise. The bad news is that I had to walk back to the car with a wadded up, bloody paper towel pressed to my face.
This morning I had the chance to go shopping and have lunch with a girlfriend. It was one of the rare chances I've had to be out and about like a grown up all summer long. We went to an art festival where we browsed to our heart's content. Then we did some shopping. You know how some days nothing fits or even looks worth trying on? Today I was having an "on" day. I found things I liked that fit, looked good, and were even on sale. I tell you, I was on a roll. We stopped to have lunch at a nice restaurant overlooking the water. My friend put it perfectly when she described our day as "civilized".
After lunch we decided to continue shopping. We wandered into an Anthropologie type store that I would never usually bother with. But I was on a hot streak! I decided to try on some trendy tops to see if the magic would continue. As I pulled one over my head, the collar sort of flipped and the price tag, which was made of heavy duty card stock flew up and hit me in the face. I checked for damage in the mirror, and sure enough, the tag had sliced the edge of my nostril. I was actually bleeding. And did I have a tissue in my purse? Of course not. My friend offered to get me one, but all she could come up with was a paper towel. The good news is that I managed to not bleed on any of the merchandise. The bad news is that I had to walk back to the car with a wadded up, bloody paper towel pressed to my face.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Adventures With Laundry Baskets
It comes as a shock to exactly no one that I am what you might refer to
as clumsy. One of my major downfalls is the seemingly innocuous
laundry basket. This is especially problematic as I do laundry on
pretty much a daily basis. On successive days last week I had the
following adventures:
I was carrying a basket filled with clean, folded laundry upstairs. As I know I have a problem gauging widths with the basket in front of me, I made sure to turn it so that I was holding it lengthwise, thereby eliminating the problem of fitting through doorways. At the top of the steps, I turned to enter my bedroom. I knew I'd make it smoothly into the room so I was moving at a fairly good clip. Turns out that I'd neglected to calculate the need for a larger turning radius with the basket sticking that much further out in front of me. I realized this when I turned to the left but instead of moving effortlessly into the bedroom, I hit the right side of the door frame with such force that the air exiting my lungs made an OOOOOFing sound loud enough for the children to come check on me. By the grace of God, I managed to avoid pinballing myself right back down the stairs. In the midst of all this, I found myself thinking what an extremely effective Heimlich maneuver this would make. (Sure, you're laughing now, but you'll be thanking me when this little trick saves your mocking, black-hearted life.
The very next day I carried a basket of dirty sheets and towels down the stairs. Lesson learned, this time I made sure to hold it the regular way. As I passed by the downstairs bathroom on the way to the washer I decided to grab the hand towel and add it to the load. I shifted the laundry basket under my left arm and side- stepped into the bathroom to reach for the towel. My momentum into the bathroom was halted, yet again, by the width of the basket. Like that claw thingy that Batman throws, the basket had effectively locked me in place. I stretched out my right arm towards the towel. No good. I bent my knees and reached again. So close. No way was I going to let that son of a bitch basket win. Using it to my advantage, I let the tightly wedged basket counterbalance me as I made one final lunge towards the towel. Success! Suck it, laundry basket!! Honest to God, I felt a surge of triumph. At, um, overcoming my own stupidity and lack of spatial ability.
<sigh>
I was carrying a basket filled with clean, folded laundry upstairs. As I know I have a problem gauging widths with the basket in front of me, I made sure to turn it so that I was holding it lengthwise, thereby eliminating the problem of fitting through doorways. At the top of the steps, I turned to enter my bedroom. I knew I'd make it smoothly into the room so I was moving at a fairly good clip. Turns out that I'd neglected to calculate the need for a larger turning radius with the basket sticking that much further out in front of me. I realized this when I turned to the left but instead of moving effortlessly into the bedroom, I hit the right side of the door frame with such force that the air exiting my lungs made an OOOOOFing sound loud enough for the children to come check on me. By the grace of God, I managed to avoid pinballing myself right back down the stairs. In the midst of all this, I found myself thinking what an extremely effective Heimlich maneuver this would make. (Sure, you're laughing now, but you'll be thanking me when this little trick saves your mocking, black-hearted life.
The very next day I carried a basket of dirty sheets and towels down the stairs. Lesson learned, this time I made sure to hold it the regular way. As I passed by the downstairs bathroom on the way to the washer I decided to grab the hand towel and add it to the load. I shifted the laundry basket under my left arm and side- stepped into the bathroom to reach for the towel. My momentum into the bathroom was halted, yet again, by the width of the basket. Like that claw thingy that Batman throws, the basket had effectively locked me in place. I stretched out my right arm towards the towel. No good. I bent my knees and reached again. So close. No way was I going to let that son of a bitch basket win. Using it to my advantage, I let the tightly wedged basket counterbalance me as I made one final lunge towards the towel. Success! Suck it, laundry basket!! Honest to God, I felt a surge of triumph. At, um, overcoming my own stupidity and lack of spatial ability.
<sigh>
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
I Promise!
Where has August gone? Maybe you, like me, have had your time sucked away by the Olympics. You know, where you stay up late watching things that you would never watch if they weren't Olympics? Like, say, water polo? Or women's softball? But I can't blame my lack of blogging entirely on patriotism. I had a few other major distractions like plowing through the Twilight series in a couple of weeks. (I think there is a special place in literary hell for me because I started To Kill A Mockingbird, then put it down 1/3 of the way through to whip through the last three Twilight books.) Also, I may have developed a teeny-tiny new addiction to Facebook. It reminds me of my old days on AOL (all 13 years of them). You can sign on and see if your friends are there! You can chat! Look at pictures! Send those mystery hatching eggs! Superpoke!!
Are those enough excuses? My point is that tomorrow we leave for 6 days in Sunriver and I plan to do a nice chunk of blogging while we're there. So, get nice and comfy there on the edge of your seats.
Now I'm off to update my Facebook status.
Are those enough excuses? My point is that tomorrow we leave for 6 days in Sunriver and I plan to do a nice chunk of blogging while we're there. So, get nice and comfy there on the edge of your seats.
Now I'm off to update my Facebook status.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Juliana's One Woman Show
Over 4th of July, we spent a few days in Seattle. I enjoy traveling; I
like the sight-seeing, the change of scenery and being removed from the
daily grind of meals and laundry. But there is one thing about traveling that makes me never want to leave home: having my entire family in one hotel room. When the kids were younger, it
was mainly about trying to get them to fall asleep with us right in the
room. Many an evening was spent sitting on the floor outside the
bathroom trying to read by the crack of light filtering through the door. Now that the kids are older, we have fights about who has to sleep
together. Often we'll end up with a boy bed and a girl bed. On our
first night in Seattle, we ended up getting a roll away bed so the kids
didn't have to sleep together and so that I could actually share a bed
with my husband. (This of course led to a $20 charge and more fighting
over who had to sleep on the roll away. (That would be David as he is the high
maintenance sleeper in the family.))
That night, I fell asleep fairly early but around 11:30 I was awakened by Juliana making fussy sounds. I got up and checked on her, but the covers were pulled over her head and I thought she was asleep. I climbed back in bed but soon heard her thrashing around and whimpering some more. I got up yet again and pulled the covers back only to find her on the verge of tears saying, "I'm so tired by I can't sleep because of Daddy's loud snoring!"
I stifled a laugh, snuggled with her, and she fell right asleep. In the morning she put on this one woman show to demonstrate her night. How I wish I'd had a video camera. Hopefully the still photos will do the trick.
"This was David"
(gentle snoring)
"This was Daddy"
( loud snoring)
"This was Mommy"
(such angelic sleeping!)
"This was me"
(gritted teeth and frustrated whimpering)
That night, I fell asleep fairly early but around 11:30 I was awakened by Juliana making fussy sounds. I got up and checked on her, but the covers were pulled over her head and I thought she was asleep. I climbed back in bed but soon heard her thrashing around and whimpering some more. I got up yet again and pulled the covers back only to find her on the verge of tears saying, "I'm so tired by I can't sleep because of Daddy's loud snoring!"
I stifled a laugh, snuggled with her, and she fell right asleep. In the morning she put on this one woman show to demonstrate her night. How I wish I'd had a video camera. Hopefully the still photos will do the trick.
"This was David"
(gentle snoring)
"This was Daddy"
( loud snoring)
"This was Mommy"
(such angelic sleeping!)
"This was me"
(gritted teeth and frustrated whimpering)
Monday, July 28, 2008
Quotable Quotes
Juliana, as we entered the large walk-in freezer at Costco: "Now I know what a waffle feels like."
In other news, David has twice now used the phrase "That's what she said" correctly. I am so proud. Of course, it doesn't help that he has a mother who, after spotting a neighbor emptying two water containers, explained to him why it would be both funny and inappropriate to yell, "Nice jugs!" out the car window at him.
In other news, David has twice now used the phrase "That's what she said" correctly. I am so proud. Of course, it doesn't help that he has a mother who, after spotting a neighbor emptying two water containers, explained to him why it would be both funny and inappropriate to yell, "Nice jugs!" out the car window at him.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Relay for Life 2008
On July 12th, my family participated in the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life. Relay is a 24 hour event dedicated to raising money to fight cancer along with taking time to remember those who have lost their lives to the disease and showing support for those who are currently battling it. If you have a Relay event in your area, you should definitely check it out. While some people (like us) pitch a tent and hang in there for all 24 hours, the entire event has an almost carnival like atmosphere. There are games, bake sales, auctions, and all sorts of fun activities to raise money for the ACS. The Relay part of it is that each team tries to have a representative out walking the track for the entire 24 hours to symbolize how cancer never takes a day off. (Our team managed walkers for 21 and a half hours, so um, maybe cancer took a quick nap?)
Last year we participated mainly because our good friend was one of the event co-ordinators. Our team raised a good bit of money and we had a lot of fun, so we were looking forward to this year.
Our family is fortunate in that we haven't been touched directly by cancer. Fighting cancer has pretty much been an abstract concept for us. This year, in the span of about a month, we found out about three people we knew who were diagnosed with cancer. Well, four, if you count Emma. Which I do. One was the grown son of one of my friends, one is a mom who has a son on David's soccer team, and the third is a very dear friend of mine named Susan.
I first met Susan on the old AOL Pregnancy Pal message boards back in 1997 when I was pregnant with David and she was pregnant with her son, Joseph. Even after the board split up (like they always do!) Susan and I have been part of an email loop that has lasted all these years. Although I've only spent time with her in person once, we have a shared history that runs deep.
Susan is still in the process of being fully diagnosed. She has Stage 1 breast cancer and so far, things are looking cautiously optimistic. Susan is lovely, gentle, and even-keeled. She tolerates my sarcasm and evil humor beautifully and I'm sure she spends plenty of time praying for my soul. ;-) Anyhow, Susan, this year I dedicated my Relay experience to you.
Well, not sure if you can read that....but I had her name on my back.
Our event is held at the local high school and as the sun goes down, the track is lined with luminaria bags. Each one bears the name on of someone who has been affected by cancer. Here are some of the luminaria bags made in support of Susan.
And here's one Juliana made. Note the guinea pig with halo and wings.
If you would like to donate to my Relay for Life team, just let me know. Even though the event is over, contributions are still being accepted into August.
Last year we participated mainly because our good friend was one of the event co-ordinators. Our team raised a good bit of money and we had a lot of fun, so we were looking forward to this year.
Our family is fortunate in that we haven't been touched directly by cancer. Fighting cancer has pretty much been an abstract concept for us. This year, in the span of about a month, we found out about three people we knew who were diagnosed with cancer. Well, four, if you count Emma. Which I do. One was the grown son of one of my friends, one is a mom who has a son on David's soccer team, and the third is a very dear friend of mine named Susan.
I first met Susan on the old AOL Pregnancy Pal message boards back in 1997 when I was pregnant with David and she was pregnant with her son, Joseph. Even after the board split up (like they always do!) Susan and I have been part of an email loop that has lasted all these years. Although I've only spent time with her in person once, we have a shared history that runs deep.
Susan is still in the process of being fully diagnosed. She has Stage 1 breast cancer and so far, things are looking cautiously optimistic. Susan is lovely, gentle, and even-keeled. She tolerates my sarcasm and evil humor beautifully and I'm sure she spends plenty of time praying for my soul. ;-) Anyhow, Susan, this year I dedicated my Relay experience to you.
Well, not sure if you can read that....but I had her name on my back.
Our event is held at the local high school and as the sun goes down, the track is lined with luminaria bags. Each one bears the name on of someone who has been affected by cancer. Here are some of the luminaria bags made in support of Susan.
And here's one Juliana made. Note the guinea pig with halo and wings.
If you would like to donate to my Relay for Life team, just let me know. Even though the event is over, contributions are still being accepted into August.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Holding Pattern
I'm thinking we are never going to name this pig. Juliana and I are leaning towards Juniper. David remains adamant about Sparky. I'm getting emails pushing Polly. And there's a disgruntled contingent displeased that Gigi didn't make the list. In the meantime, we're still calling her Smoky (Smokey?) and the good thing about that name is that it has immediately lent itself to a number of good nicknames which, if you were not aware, is eminently important in a guinea pig name. Smoky has already been called Smoky-Dokey-Artichokey, Smokely-Dokely, Smokester and The Smokinator.
In other news, here is my injury of the day: David left the toilet seat up and when I went to put it down, the lid came down with it and banged me on the arm hard enough to leave a nasty bruise. Last week I gave myself a second degree burn on my thumb when I attempted to take a cake out of the oven and managed to position the pot-holder incorrectly. I wonder if anyone would read a blog entitled Injuries Du Jour...
In other news, here is my injury of the day: David left the toilet seat up and when I went to put it down, the lid came down with it and banged me on the arm hard enough to leave a nasty bruise. Last week I gave myself a second degree burn on my thumb when I attempted to take a cake out of the oven and managed to position the pot-holder incorrectly. I wonder if anyone would read a blog entitled Injuries Du Jour...
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