You'll be glad to know that I maintained my lengthy streak of hitting my head on the "overhead" (embedded in head?) compartment on the flight home. This time, instead of standing up directly under it, I somehow managed to whack the side of my head against it.
********
On the flight home, Juliana finished her book. I watched to see if she would need some help from me to choose her next activity, but she closed up the book, announced "Ok, now I'm going to do my thinking", propped her chin on her fist, and stared off into middle distance for a nice long while.
********
Who are these people who order tomato juice on airplanes? Do you know anyone who drinks tomato juice in real life? Why, on planes, does it suddenly become the drink of choice? I have such an irrational hatred for these people that even I am baffled by it.
There's only one way to drink tomato juice. First off, it has to be V-8. Secondly, it needs to be poured from its original container into a glass jar. Then it has to sit in the refrigerator until thoroughly chilled. Then you have to spend all day at the beach. Then you can enjoy a nice big glass. I'm not being unreasonable here; it's just that there is a process that needs to be followed. Oh, and did I mention that the refrigerator needs to reside in my grandparents' apartment in Florida? And that it needs to be somewhere around 1978? Is that so hard to do?
I've tried drinking V-8 other times and other ways and it doesn't work. When I was pregnant with David and all vegetables disgusted me, I thought V-8 was the answer. Nope, couldn't even gag down one glass of that viscous nastiness. And don't tell me that what I need to do is drink a Bloody Mary. Christ, how can you drink anything with "Bloody" right in the name? Not to mention TOMATO JUICE. I feel a little queasy even staying on this subject for so long.
Look, if you're thirsty on a plane, drink something cold and quenching. Like
a soda. Like normal people do. Tomato juice is just going to make you
thirstier. Plus, it's made from squished up TOMATOES. Why the hell would you drink that? And
for God's sake, when it inevitably spills on your lap, you are going to
look like a crime scene exhibit. Also, I secretly pray for turbulence when I see people drinking tomato juice on a plane. Wouldn't it be better for you to have a nice glass of orange juice? Look what you get in return: A healthy dose of vitamin C and the added bonus of helping me in my quest to become a better person.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Canada Wet
The good news is that I didn't trip and/or fall in any airports on our way home yesterday. No, I decided to go with my second favorite air travel activity which is liquid related. Just as walking with Juliana carries a certain risk, so does sitting next to her on a plane. Unless you observe constant vigilance, there is going to be some mopping up in your future. Before the drink cart even came around, we'd determined that she had a faulty tray table. It wouldn't return to it's upright and locked position without a huge amount of force (something the woman sitting in front of Juliana was thrilled to discover) so I told Juliana that we would share mine. I was secretly pleased by this turn of events because it allowed me to micromanage her drink with minimal fuss. She chose Ginger Ale which sounded so good that I decided to have some as well. Also, that way we could share one can between us which limited the amount of time we engaged in the drinking portion of the flight. I poured us each some ginger ale and let me tell you, it was as crisp and refreshing as could be. I kept her drink level fairly low but she didn't question me. I felt good enough about the process to go back to my New Yorker. What I had overlooked was the fact that my tray table had its own fault. Unbeknownst to me, it was more of a ramp than a platform and my drink (which was fuller and thus heavier) slowly slid down the surface and tipped over into my lap. You can imagine how graceful I was as I tried to scoop ice out of body crevices all the while being strapped to my seat and wedged in by the tray table. I got up and went to the bathroom to try and dry off. I went back to my seat and reported that it looked like I had peed my pants. Juliana cracked up. I mock-glared at her and pointed out that I didn't think it was too funny. She responded with, "But Mommy, bathroom things just always seem funny. Haven't you ever noticed that?"
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Thanksgiving This And That
Look at me blogging at you from Detroit! We're here visiting my in-laws and the trip was nice and uneventful. Well, except for in the Detroit airport when I stepped onto the moving walkway and turned to say something to Ritu at the same time. Much teetering and windmilling of arms ensued, but I managed to stay on my feet. Let's face it, I should just be banned from airports.
**********
David seems to be inventing his own slang. This morning he looked at the clock and exclaimed, "Oh my Snappalachian State, it's 6 AM!" What is he, somebody's gay hillbilly grandpa?
**********
We've been reading All of A Kind Family which features a Jewish family living on the East Side of New York City in the early 1900s. I read them when I was a girl and the kids have enjoyed them. Juliana, in particular, is delighted by any mention of Judaism in books or movies, so this has simply captivated her. The all-of-a-kind part refers to the fact that there are five sisters in the book....Ella, Henny, Sarah, Charlotte, and Gertie. The kids can remember that Henny is a nickname (I really wanted to use the word "soubriquet" there. Pretentious, much?) for Henrietta, but they keep having a mental block about what Gertie is short for. David asked me, "What is it again? Gertaline?"
**********
Yesterday my friend and I were at Border's choosing things to sell at our synagogue's Chanukah fair. Border's lets us buy things at a discount, sell them for list price and keep the profit. We go through the entire store and select a collection of books and gift items with a Jewish slant. This includes Jewish cookbooks, fiction by Jewish authors, kids stuff and pretty much anything that we think might appeal to our members. As we go through the store, Border's employees offer to help us, but they are often stumped at the entire concept of Jewishness. Here is an actual exchange I had with a Border's employee when she saw I had this book:
Border's Employee: Is that a humor book?
Me: Yes.
Border's Employee: Oh. Because I didn't think that George and Laura were Jewish.
Me (speaking slowly): Yeah, see, that's what makes it funny.
**********
David seems to be inventing his own slang. This morning he looked at the clock and exclaimed, "Oh my Snappalachian State, it's 6 AM!" What is he, somebody's gay hillbilly grandpa?
**********
We've been reading All of A Kind Family which features a Jewish family living on the East Side of New York City in the early 1900s. I read them when I was a girl and the kids have enjoyed them. Juliana, in particular, is delighted by any mention of Judaism in books or movies, so this has simply captivated her. The all-of-a-kind part refers to the fact that there are five sisters in the book....Ella, Henny, Sarah, Charlotte, and Gertie. The kids can remember that Henny is a nickname (I really wanted to use the word "soubriquet" there. Pretentious, much?) for Henrietta, but they keep having a mental block about what Gertie is short for. David asked me, "What is it again? Gertaline?"
**********
Yesterday my friend and I were at Border's choosing things to sell at our synagogue's Chanukah fair. Border's lets us buy things at a discount, sell them for list price and keep the profit. We go through the entire store and select a collection of books and gift items with a Jewish slant. This includes Jewish cookbooks, fiction by Jewish authors, kids stuff and pretty much anything that we think might appeal to our members. As we go through the store, Border's employees offer to help us, but they are often stumped at the entire concept of Jewishness. Here is an actual exchange I had with a Border's employee when she saw I had this book:
Border's Employee: Is that a humor book?
Me: Yes.
Border's Employee: Oh. Because I didn't think that George and Laura were Jewish.
Me (speaking slowly): Yeah, see, that's what makes it funny.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Hot Pockets
I know I promised pictures of the kids from Halloween, but hey, I also
promised to be a reliable blogger. So far I am 0/2. Let's just move
on, shall we?
One of the things that has most impressed David about being in 5th grade is that his classroom is in possession of a real live microwave. And not only do they have a microwave, they are allowed to use it at lunchtime. This, apparently, ranks right up there with a Nintendo Wii as the coolest thing ever.
Now, David is my child who eats next to nothing. For years, every day for lunch I packed him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Maybe once every six weeks I could throw in a bagel and cream cheese without upsetting the delicate balance. (Once I tried giving him a cheese sandwich and when I asked him how he liked it, I was told, "Mom, don't you EVER do that again!") This summer David discovered the heavenly goodness that is Nutella. Sure, it's tantamount to giving him a chocolate sandwich, but it has some protein and fiber and, most importantly, it's not peanut butter and jelly.
This fall, David began talking about Hot Pockets. In return, I ignored him. The Hot Pockets talk continued. Did I not understand how cool it was to be able to take a Hot Pocket to school and wait your turn for the microwave? It's so rare that he wants to introduce any new food, that I finally relented. And bless his little heart, he knows his culinary limits and he told me he'd best try the first one at home to see if he even liked it. He asked for the Four Cheese kind since he was sure any of the other ones would be too spicy. The day I brought them home, he tried one and deemed it delicious. On the one hand, I was happy he had tried something new. On the other hand, a Hot Pocket? Are you kidding me?
I let my kids choose hot lunch at school once a week. Juliana will at least get a salad or carrots along with her entree, but David eats nothing in the way of fruits and vegetables except apples and the occasional grape (under duress). According to him, all the apples at school are "rotten". (Also, according to him, this one kid knew a kid who dropped his hot dog and it was so rubbery that it bounced back up and hit him in the eye. If you could see how sincerely he tells this story, you would die from cuteness.)
I debated with David for awhile over whether or not a Hot Pocket would count as his hot lunch for the week. As much as he wanted the Hot Pocket, he wasn't quite willing to give up the pizza or nachos in return. Finally I had a rare stroke of Parenting Genius. I told him that if he wanted to have a Hot Pocket and a school hot lunch each week, he would need to introduce a new fruit or vegetable into his repertoire. He immediately got up from where he was sitting, marched to the refrigerator, took out a baby carrot and put it in his mouth. I watched in stunned amazement. I could not have been more surprised had he opened fire with a shotgun. He chewed twice, gagged, and spit the carrot back out. So much for that breakthrough.
Eventually he agreed to eat bananas. He also said yes to oranges. The other night at dinner when I put apple slices, an orange wedge, and a few circles of banana on his plate was one of the most satisfying moments of motherhood. And all thanks to Hot Pockets.
And here, for your enjoyment is Jim Gaffigan's routine all about Hot Pockets.
One of the things that has most impressed David about being in 5th grade is that his classroom is in possession of a real live microwave. And not only do they have a microwave, they are allowed to use it at lunchtime. This, apparently, ranks right up there with a Nintendo Wii as the coolest thing ever.
Now, David is my child who eats next to nothing. For years, every day for lunch I packed him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Maybe once every six weeks I could throw in a bagel and cream cheese without upsetting the delicate balance. (Once I tried giving him a cheese sandwich and when I asked him how he liked it, I was told, "Mom, don't you EVER do that again!") This summer David discovered the heavenly goodness that is Nutella. Sure, it's tantamount to giving him a chocolate sandwich, but it has some protein and fiber and, most importantly, it's not peanut butter and jelly.
This fall, David began talking about Hot Pockets. In return, I ignored him. The Hot Pockets talk continued. Did I not understand how cool it was to be able to take a Hot Pocket to school and wait your turn for the microwave? It's so rare that he wants to introduce any new food, that I finally relented. And bless his little heart, he knows his culinary limits and he told me he'd best try the first one at home to see if he even liked it. He asked for the Four Cheese kind since he was sure any of the other ones would be too spicy. The day I brought them home, he tried one and deemed it delicious. On the one hand, I was happy he had tried something new. On the other hand, a Hot Pocket? Are you kidding me?
I let my kids choose hot lunch at school once a week. Juliana will at least get a salad or carrots along with her entree, but David eats nothing in the way of fruits and vegetables except apples and the occasional grape (under duress). According to him, all the apples at school are "rotten". (Also, according to him, this one kid knew a kid who dropped his hot dog and it was so rubbery that it bounced back up and hit him in the eye. If you could see how sincerely he tells this story, you would die from cuteness.)
I debated with David for awhile over whether or not a Hot Pocket would count as his hot lunch for the week. As much as he wanted the Hot Pocket, he wasn't quite willing to give up the pizza or nachos in return. Finally I had a rare stroke of Parenting Genius. I told him that if he wanted to have a Hot Pocket and a school hot lunch each week, he would need to introduce a new fruit or vegetable into his repertoire. He immediately got up from where he was sitting, marched to the refrigerator, took out a baby carrot and put it in his mouth. I watched in stunned amazement. I could not have been more surprised had he opened fire with a shotgun. He chewed twice, gagged, and spit the carrot back out. So much for that breakthrough.
Eventually he agreed to eat bananas. He also said yes to oranges. The other night at dinner when I put apple slices, an orange wedge, and a few circles of banana on his plate was one of the most satisfying moments of motherhood. And all thanks to Hot Pockets.
And here, for your enjoyment is Jim Gaffigan's routine all about Hot Pockets.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Guinea Pigs Are Cuter Than Kids
Happy Halloween!! No pictures of the kids in their costumes yet, but here's one of Spots frolicking in the pumpkins.
(By the way, has there ever been a more gloriously unnecessary feature than Snapfish's Red Eye Before/After button? Nothing funnier than clicking it and watching your loved one's eyes intermittently glow red. It's more like a Before/After the Exorcism button.)
It's been just about a year since we became guinea pig owners (I KNOW. I can't believe we've kept them alive this long either.) and we debated long and hard on how to best celebrate. We finally came up with the perfect solution. Usually, the bedding in their cage is a mixture of aspen and paper litter. We toss handfuls of Timothy hay in there every day as it is key for their little digestive process. In general, the cage looks like this.
To mark this special occasion, we decided to fill their entire cage with Timothy hay. It would sort of be like you filling your entire bedroom waist deep in peanut M&Ms.
Here's Spots in the hay.
Such a camera whore, that one. We'll have to add that to her list of nicknames. (Which include: Spotty, Potty, Spotster, Spaz, Spazzy, Spottykins, Spotarama, Pottykins, Spotty Pig, and The Pig Who Does The Spot Trot.)
They loved the hay. They climbed all around, then burrowed into it. Eventually they even made a little tunnel. Here's Spots, cleverly camouflaged.
Is that cute or what? Here's her little Spotster Bum sticking out of the hay.
And check out how good Emma (aka Emmers, Emma-coo, Emma-cootiepie, Emmykins, Hem-Hem, Fatty-coo, Fatty Pig, Fatty Fat Fat, Tiny Bison, Sweet-Tooth Pig, Chubby Pig, Chocolate Bar) looks! Not tilty at all!
(By the way, has there ever been a more gloriously unnecessary feature than Snapfish's Red Eye Before/After button? Nothing funnier than clicking it and watching your loved one's eyes intermittently glow red. It's more like a Before/After the Exorcism button.)
It's been just about a year since we became guinea pig owners (I KNOW. I can't believe we've kept them alive this long either.) and we debated long and hard on how to best celebrate. We finally came up with the perfect solution. Usually, the bedding in their cage is a mixture of aspen and paper litter. We toss handfuls of Timothy hay in there every day as it is key for their little digestive process. In general, the cage looks like this.
To mark this special occasion, we decided to fill their entire cage with Timothy hay. It would sort of be like you filling your entire bedroom waist deep in peanut M&Ms.
Here's Spots in the hay.
Such a camera whore, that one. We'll have to add that to her list of nicknames. (Which include: Spotty, Potty, Spotster, Spaz, Spazzy, Spottykins, Spotarama, Pottykins, Spotty Pig, and The Pig Who Does The Spot Trot.)
They loved the hay. They climbed all around, then burrowed into it. Eventually they even made a little tunnel. Here's Spots, cleverly camouflaged.
Is that cute or what? Here's her little Spotster Bum sticking out of the hay.
And check out how good Emma (aka Emmers, Emma-coo, Emma-cootiepie, Emmykins, Hem-Hem, Fatty-coo, Fatty Pig, Fatty Fat Fat, Tiny Bison, Sweet-Tooth Pig, Chubby Pig, Chocolate Bar) looks! Not tilty at all!
Monday, October 29, 2007
This Should've Been A Much Cuter Post
Thursday night we went to our school's Halloween Carnival. Juliana won a round of the Cake Walk which meant that she got to choose from a selection of store-bought cakes. (For health reasons we aren't allowed to bring in homemade baked goods to the school.) She chose for her prize a small 4-inch cake frosted in the brightest of green and decorated to look like Frankenstein. She was so proud that she cradled that cake in her arms all around the carnival for the next hour. I didn't have my camera with me that night, so I made sure to take pictures of her eating it the next day. Her friend Shannon had spent the night so we all dug in for a mid-morning snack. (You can see David pouting in the background as he hadn't finished cleaning the guinea pig cage.)
As she'd been so cute carrying it around the night before, I tried to re-create that missed photo opportunity by having her hold it with the uncut side facing out. Cleverly, I neglected to ensure that the dome was attached tightly to the cake plate.
But no worries here! We just turned the upside down dome into a bowl and ate it like that!
Much face-scrubbing and tooth-brushing followed.
For lunch that day, we'd been invited to a birthday party at a Chuck E. Cheese type place. Juliana ate three slices of pizza, drank two glasses of root beer and had a piece of birthday cake. After lunch she told me that she felt cold, but quickly decided to go on a little ride called The Frog Jumper. After that she just wanted to sit on my lap for awhile. She perked up and ventured into the play structure, but soon came flying out asking me to take her to the bathroom. She went up the stairs like a shot and by the time I followed her into the bathroom, she was already in a stall. I called in to see how she was doing and she burst into sobs saying, "I think I have diarrhea and it's.....it's.....it's.....GREEN!"
In retrospect, I learned that perhaps filling my child full of crap then letting her ride anything with "Jumper" in the name isn't the best idea. (And yes, I am QUITE aware that it all could've come out the other end and been a lot worse.)
Even more importantly I learned that despite spending a number of hours in her digestive tract, that green frosting didn't lose even the slightest bit of intensity. God knows you can't get that same sort of craftsmanship from something home-made.
As she'd been so cute carrying it around the night before, I tried to re-create that missed photo opportunity by having her hold it with the uncut side facing out. Cleverly, I neglected to ensure that the dome was attached tightly to the cake plate.
But no worries here! We just turned the upside down dome into a bowl and ate it like that!
Much face-scrubbing and tooth-brushing followed.
For lunch that day, we'd been invited to a birthday party at a Chuck E. Cheese type place. Juliana ate three slices of pizza, drank two glasses of root beer and had a piece of birthday cake. After lunch she told me that she felt cold, but quickly decided to go on a little ride called The Frog Jumper. After that she just wanted to sit on my lap for awhile. She perked up and ventured into the play structure, but soon came flying out asking me to take her to the bathroom. She went up the stairs like a shot and by the time I followed her into the bathroom, she was already in a stall. I called in to see how she was doing and she burst into sobs saying, "I think I have diarrhea and it's.....it's.....it's.....GREEN!"
In retrospect, I learned that perhaps filling my child full of crap then letting her ride anything with "Jumper" in the name isn't the best idea. (And yes, I am QUITE aware that it all could've come out the other end and been a lot worse.)
Even more importantly I learned that despite spending a number of hours in her digestive tract, that green frosting didn't lose even the slightest bit of intensity. God knows you can't get that same sort of craftsmanship from something home-made.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Speaking of Rain
If you listen to any sort of mainstream radio, you've probably heard
the Rihanna song Umbrella. I don't mind Rihanna (they play a lot of
her songs on Radio Disney--which reminds me--nobody Named That Tune on
my birthday post!) but Umbrella was always just a big whatever to me.
Here's a link to it.
Then one of our local radio stations started playing an acoustic version of it by Marie Digby that showed up on her Myspace page and then Youtube. (Yes, I know it was a little controversial because people thought she was an unknown and she turned out to be an unknown with a recording contract.) Here's a link to her video. I can't even tell you how much I love this version of the song.
Then one of our local radio stations started playing an acoustic version of it by Marie Digby that showed up on her Myspace page and then Youtube. (Yes, I know it was a little controversial because people thought she was an unknown and she turned out to be an unknown with a recording contract.) Here's a link to her video. I can't even tell you how much I love this version of the song.
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