The Very First Thing

Anyone who's been to our house can appreciate our need to renovate the kitchen. It's not just ugly, it's as if someone found a bit of space and dragged in random cabinetry one day. The lower cabinets are not tacked to the wall at all, they're just standing on the floor. Pieces of formica countertop that almost fit rest atop them, held by gravity alone. Upper cabinets are fastened to the wall - just the plasterboard part...not to studs. There's a ragged hole in the ceiling where someone once punched through to get at the shower drain above. Rather than fix the hole, they put in a dropped ceiling. Probably the same person gave all the walls that he could see a single coat of paint. If you move any of the cabinets or counters (which happens everytime you bump into one), you see the unpainted parts. It's delightful. So, when we looked at this house to buy it, we agreed the very first thing we'd do is renovate the kitchen. Riiiiiiight.

In the two and a half years we've lived here, we've had mold remediation done twice (two separate areas), put on a new roof (rip-off/replace), installed a new furnace and hot water holding tank, upgraded our electrical service, replaced the original basement windows with glass block, moved a sliding glass door from the front to the back of the house (and rebuilt the wall where it was at first), refinished floors in the den and hallway, built a new banister for the main stairs, put in a new well pump and installed a new surge tank. You may notice the very first thing we were going to do is not on the list of what we've accomplished so far.

A few months ago, we evaluated our finances and decided we could take out a home equity loan. We'd still have to be careful about the process but we'd FINALLY be able to do the kitchen! I did some research and we selected a loan and went through the mountains of paperwork and eventually got to the part where they gave us a satisfying pile of cash, in exchange for some of our blood and rights to a portion of our house if we're ever carted away. $$$!!

Ecstatic, I sent notes out to the architect asking to finalize the plans. I dug out information we've been saving from contractors and lined up a list of suppliers we'll need to call. Once or twice each week, I log in to our account and admire the balance. Then I log in to my "kitchen" spreadsheet and force myself to observe the difference between the money we expect to need and the money we actually have. There will still be some financial dancing, but we can manage it and we'll be managing it in a wonderful kitchen!

And then, a very nice guy called Steve cut in to my happy-about-the-kitchen dance today. We asked Steve over to look at our basement, in preparation for the coming wet season. I had visions of a couple of guys painting a few vats of sealant down there, and then we'd do a nice fresh coat of paint over it all and there you go. I, it turns out, know nothing about basement sealing. I'll be getting a crash course next week, though, when Steve's gang come by to repair and waterproof the basement. When they're done, we'll have a fabulous drainage system, two sump pumps, a Zamboni drain, a chipmunk waterslide, and all the exterior cracks will have been sealed. Steve says it will take a few weeks to get totally dried out but once it does, we'll be able to finish the basement off with confidence. Oh, and the corner footings to the house won't be caving in, either. So, we won't have a glorious kitchen anytime soon...but at least the house will stay standing while we save up for it.

College Prep

Lunch discussion, over boxed mac-n-cheese and applesauce:

"What if there was a Rama* truck, like an ice-cream truck but full of Rama, that would come on our street?"

"And we'd see it and we'd get some money from Mama and then we'd run out and buy Rama! Right from the truck!"

"And then we'd eat it and go and get more Rama!"

"And the guy would say, 'Oh no! I'm out of Rama! I have to go to the grocery store - I'll be right back!'"

"That would be SO cool!"

*Rama = Ramen noodles, a current lunchtime love. Yellow is the favorite flavor, followed by red, with blue taking a distant third place. Chris won't allow pink into the house - apparently, even fake shrimp flavor comes under the ban.

As Lady Epiphany heads back to University for her first semester in a long time, she's reminding me of allllll the fun (orientation! tuition! dorms! fees!) I have to look forward to when my kids head off for college. Luckily, they won't go for another ten years, give or take. By then, maybe I'll have them prepared to face a bit more than just college food?

Worm Race

Though she seldom bends to peer pressure, my sister-in-law has gone and started a blog of her own, Worm Race. Have a peek, a smile, and post a comment (...or five)!

The Ants Come Marching Two by Two-hundred...

Each spring, we are visited by tiny ants in our kitchen. They come in somewhere behind the sink and are most frequently found on the counter beside the sink or in the dishwasher (how they get IN the dishwasher, I will never know...). We put down ant traps. We rinse dishes before stacking them in the dishwasher. We make sure all food is sealed away. Still, we have ants. Since it's the kitchen, we don't use ant spray but I have been known to zap them with Lysol now and again when I'm disinfecting the garbage container. Want to know what happens when you spray tiny kitchen ants with Lysol? They get wet. That's it. They continue on as they were, being ants, just wet and a little shiny for it. Recently, we've been using a line of bio-degradable, non-toxic cleaners around the house. I happened to be cleaning the counters one day and zapped a set of oncoming ants with the Method all-purpose spray I was holding. Want to know what happens when you zap tiny kitchen ants with bio-degradable, non-toxic, all-purpose cleaning spray? They drop dead. Instantly. The label says "not tested on animals," which leads me to believe the manufacturer might not know just how effective their all-purpose sprays (all three flavors) are at ant eradication. Think they'd want to know?

Someday (like today) her prince will come...

After years of waiting for Just The Right Guy, I'm happy to report that my sister might have found him! A recent trip to his home state allowed her to meet his family and spend a few days relaxing at their cottage. Her reports of the weekend are glowing (as is she!) and she's looking forward to seeing them all again in the fall. Woo-woo!!

*REAL* Money

We took the kids out to one of their favorite stores this afternoon, so they could choose something new to buy with their own money. Before going, I got each of them aside to count their spending money so we'd know how much they had. At seven, Ross is old enough to responsibly carry his own money, if he'd like. Still five, Lars doesn't get the option yet. After the reckoning and before we left the house, the boys compared amounts. Lars had more money overall but Ross had his in his pocket. Upon this discovery, Lars came to find me. He solomnly asked if he could be careful with his own money, too. Not the dollars, his real money - the circle kind.

Oh, for the innocent days when the circle kind was more important than paper or plastic!

Dam it! ...or... More on Chipmunks

At dinner:

"Can chipmunks chew through cement with their teeth?"

"I don't think so, no. Why?"

"Because I've been using the cement we keep under the Carriage Tree to build the dams."

"The Carriage Tree??"

"The one by the Bilco door. The one I sit in like a carriage."

"Oh! That tree. We keep cement under it?"

"Yes, and the round red rocks."

"Of course, with the round, red rocks. Our masonry supplies are very organized. Now, what's this about a dam?"

"Chipmunk dams. I build the chipmunk dams out of cement. It will keep them in their holes."

Parent Satisfaction

Our school district is getting a jump on the amazing heap of paperwork they send home during the first week of school by sending some of it to us in the mail two weeks ahead. The joy! Among the early arrivals is a "Parent Satisfaction Survey" which consists of ten multiple choice and five short essay questions that reminds me eerily of a Regent's exam. I'm filling out the form, with censorship advice from Chris. For example:

Do you feel that your children are safe in school? What steps do you feel may make our schools safer?

My answer: I feel my children are most threatened in school by the presence of potentially harmful substances such as peanuts (instruments of certain death) and berries (choking hazards). I feel that banning such substances from storage and use within a five mile radius of the school would be a strong step towards protecting our children from Darwinistic death.

Censored to: Yes.

How can the Board get people, without children in school, more involved?

My answer: More involved with what?

Censored with: an exasperated (or possibly strangled?) look.

What aspects of the School System provide you with the most satisfaction?

My answer: Summer vacation.

I think Chris would prefer that I refrain from actually submitting a response. Really! Don't ask if you don't want to know. 19 days until school begins and I'm already poised to cause trouble. I really, sincerely, did not want to be That Parent...

P.S. Jury is still out on whether the survey will be sent in.

Vacation, all I ever wanted...

There's nothing like a five year old with a camera for a new perspective on a familiar landscape.
It's that way...

Fossils on the point - still cool!

Are you supposed to eat what's on the menu? Or is the menu supposed to eat you?

Scuba-dooba-here we go-scuba!

Ice Cream! FROZEN Ice Cream!

Scheduled to arrive between 8:00am and 12:00pm on Monday, Refrigerator Repair Guy #4 appeared shortly after 1:00pm. At least he hit Monday. He glanced at the pile of parts sent here by previous repair guys, then pulled open the freezer. When the light didn't come on, he commented that he'd see if he had a new bulb in his truck. I told him not to bother - the lamp is fine; it just doesn't come on when the compressor is actually cooling because something in the switch freezes in the "off" position. I told him (as I've told all the other guys) that the freezer light coming on is the first sign of a defrost. He fiddled with the switch a bit, then disconnected it and disappeared to his truck, returning a while later with a new switch. He installed the new switch, explaining that the REAL problem we've been having is with the light. The switch had malfunctioned, keeping the light on even when the door was closed. The heat from the light was causing the compressor to overwork and eventually shut down to save itsself from burning out. Ummmm....sure. I must have looked pretty scary in my sincere effort not to say something I would regret in court, because he stopped talking about his light theory rather abruptly and turned his attention to the 36 pound pile of parts stacked up beside the fridge (28 lb compressor kit, two freezer drawer rails, 4 lb each). After a moment of consideration, he determined that he would go ahead and replace my compressor anyhow. And that he'd go ahead and install the new freezer drawer rails, too. Because they were here. And, possibly, because he realized that he might be twice my height and three times my weight but I would take him down if he didn't. Smart man. He spent the better part of three hours working on the fridge and I'm pleased to say that our fridge hasn't ever operated as quietly as it does now and, as a bonus, it's been keeping things cold for over 30 hours in a row! It hasn't done that since June! Chris bought ice cream today to celebrate and I'm off to get started on eating it...just in case.

Mailing Lists

For some years now, I have been recreationally tracing the path of various mailing lists - you know, trying to figure out which company has sold my contact information to some new catalog that arrives unbidden. I have a friend who used to sign up for each new thing using a different middle initial so he could figure it out more easily. I'm not that organized, but I do use a different form of my name and will include a company name or title if I'm subscribing to something work related...which is why I'm very curious about the path of a brochure that just arrived, addressed to my home name at my home address, no company name or title: Columbian TecTank, for fire protection water storage tanks. The kind I can rely on to safeguard my liquid petrochemicals and wastewater. It gets more confusing when you consider the fact that my work junk mail trail tends to be electrical device related. Wire, backboxes, watertight connectors, conduit bending tools...but all that stuff comes to my work name, with my company or title attached. Has L.L.Bean's or Pottery Barn joined up with an industrial liquid enclosures gang?

Current Tally

Number of spiders eliminated by myself: 9

• Number that gave chase: 1
• Number that made a horrible crunch: 2 (Location of crunchy spiders: Web-commune installed under the heels of my blue pumps. I wore blue Birkenstocks instead which was less unprofessional than having spider-shoe flashbacks during meetings (sorry, Buddha).)

Number of horrible (but pretty) beetles ruthlessly sprayed off the remains of the only two rose blooms we've had on the new red rose this year: 27

Number of kibbles Pixie missed her water dish with yesterday: 11

• Number of ants who found the cat food: 31
• Number who lived to tell their friends: 0 (For the record, Method spray cleaner (grapefruit or lavendar) works much better as an ant spray than Lysol. Method drops them in their tracks, Lysol just makes them wet.)

Number of days until the refrigerator is fixed: 4

Number of days until my boys get home: 3

Number of days until WTHS 2006: 1!!!!!!!!!!

Trade-offs

I get a week at home on my own!

Pro

1. House stays neat for 24 hours (or more!) in a row.
2. Pixie appears in more parts of the house than usual.
3. Quiet.
4. No bother about cooking.

Con

1. Squish all your own spiders, no matter how large or hairy.
2. Quiet.
3. No bother about cooking.
4. Miss my boys (all three).
5. Miss my boys.
6. Miss my boys.

Four Minutes

The repair man was here exactly four minutes. He listened to my description of the problem over the last few months (fully documented on notecards), collected the model and serial numbers off the refrigerator, and said he'll be back next Monday to install a new compressor. No garbage about my kids hanging on the freezer drawer and bending the rails (which are steel, weigh four pounds apiece, and cannot be bent by 116 lbs jumping on them while suspended - I tried). Not cooling? Funny clicking and rattling with no resulting motor noise? Fan still running? Total defrost? Your compressor's shot.

Thank you, thank you. That's what I said six weeks ago...but what do I know about refrigerators? Well, I know they're really nice to have around in the summer time. Maybe next year I'll get to experience that again!

Wild Thing

A helpful young hawk enjoying a chipmunk for dinner atop the dragon. We hope the chipmunk was very tasty so that the hawk will stick around to enjoy a few (dozen) more!

Headcount, 10:24pm

One down.

Two dozing.

Two wishing they were down or dozing.

Two raring to go!

Thank god neither of those two can drive.

Thanker god we keep cars with manual transmissions.

Drun,k paryt of 7

Most people shrink when their mother-in-law is about to arrive. I rejoice! It generally means a good time will be had by all and I wonder about how to make our visits more frequent. Things I have learned:

1. If it cools down 20 degrees in a day, you still should rdrink water.

2. Id it comes in a box, it's proabably not water.

2. Have I mentioned my in-alws are fun?

4. Cousins too - they can take the train from LIRR and get here in time to meet us at the station by the AAA stadium for dinner. And drinks before. A lot of drinks before. And probably after. I don't know yet butr I'm guessing...

5. Given the choice between going to bed and drinking iwth the rest of us, the kids will pick drinking the rest of us, every time.

6. Chris loves me a lot when rdrunk. (sobre too...)

7. And he looses his phone.

Sooooo...you want to keep something cold?

Two and a half years ago, we moved in to this house. Some of you may recall the hazy happy time we had moving, when we sold in September but couldn't get a new house until December? Well, in the four storage months, our then less than a year old refrigerator (from Sears) was left to rot - the movers spilled soda in the freezer part and then shut the door, thank you very much. A LOT of black stuff grows out of a puddle of sugar water in four months of darkness with limited air supply. A LOT. As I was not up to battling the black goo, we wrote it off (don't even talk to me about the hideous wrongness of the whole move...) and set out to get a new fridge.

On December 5th, we purchased the exact same model as the one that had rotted. They told us we could have it delivered on the 30th. Three weeks, plus the holiday. We slept on it and woke, determined to do better. We ventured over to a new store called The Great Indoors where we found a larger fridge that we liked better and that they could deliver a week sooner. Sign me up! Surprisingly, The Great Indoors turned out to be a Sears derivative and offered the same 12mos no payment/no interest deal if we used our Sears Card, which was great. They could also do the return on our first purchase without us having to go back to the original Sears store. Bonus! And so it was that on Christmas Eve, 2003 our refrigerator was delivered. I will never forget the date or the two weeks we went without a fridge, although it was December in the Northeast, so we were just using the back porch.

Flash forward a year. Our kids get a bit taller and more self-reliant and can open the fridge doors on their own. Every now and then, we find a door left ajar and, once, left hanging wiiiiiide open. Each time, we explained how important it is for the doors to stay Very Closed All The Time and life went on.

Once last year, the freezer door got left open (we think) and everything inside defrosted. We spent a day and a half cooking everything and a week consuming it. Frozen tartlet hors de vours! Pork chops! Chicken! Stew beef chunks! Corn! Peas! Anything not completely lost (ice cream, *sob*) was rendered into a meal or something that could become a meal. We didn't shop for about two weeks and it took a few months to stock the freezer up to my comfort point again.

In May of this year, the same thing happened. Pounds of meat suddenly needed to be cooked and consumed. Ice cream was a gloppy mess. Frozen fruit unfroze and spooged all over the freezer bottom. Totally delightful! (or not...)

In June, we finally ascertained that it's not the fault of the children leaving doors open and called Sears for a service appointment. They scheduled a date three weeks (!!) away saying they were totally booked and couldn't possibly do any better. On the day, their tech skipped the call and was another five days before they could squeeze us in on an "emergency" basis. The tech actually appeared for the second visit, said pish-tosh we don't have a compressor problem, just the rails for our drawer freezer are bent so the door isn't closing right. I was skeptical that a bad seal on the freezer could cause full disfunction of the entire refridgerator/freezer but he's the tech, right? He ordered us two new rails and showed us how to install them - an easy snap-in sort of thing. We paid him for the visit and the rails, which he said would be at our house in two days. Six days later, ONE rail showed up. Two days after that, I called parts to see when the second rail would get here.

Currently, we're in the fifth week of twice weekly thaws and I've stopped keeping anything truly perishable or likely to breed salmonella (100° and humid is not an optimal storage condition for, say, chicken). The third service call is still a week and a half away, the second rail still isn't here, and the supervisor of our regional service center greets me by name when my number flashes up on his caller ID.

Aside from all the regular reasons why this rots (literally), we have guests coming tomorrow. Hopefully they will appreciate not getting food poisoning more than they will not appreciate being served a variety of canned or boxed food where I'd ordinarily offer fresh. Did you know they still make powdered milk? I thought that went out in the '70s...

Things I learned today

Things I learned today:

1. How to make a conference call on my cell phone.

2. My cell phone gets hot when abused. Really hot, like I could cook an egg on it. Which I'm tempted to do because then, maybe, it would stop working and then people couldn't call and frustrate the )&*(^&* out of me.

3. There really is such a thing as "too hot to be naked," and it's happening here in case you'd like to check it out for yourself.

4. Buying a refrigerator from Sears is not a great idea. I'm not sure buying one from anyone else would be better, but I know for certain that Sears is astonishingly unhelpful when something goes wrong.

5. My kids actually are adorable and good! At least sometimes... :P

Must remember...

Adorable and good...adorable and good...adorable and good...adorable and good...adorab...............

Backwords Bug

Ever since Bug began to talk, he's gotten hyphenated words backwards. We repeat the words back in the correct order but he persists in using the reverse order. When he grows out of it, I'll miss these signs of his little boy world:

whitey-tighties

top-tanks

talkie-walkies

Supporting the Solo Grocery Run

My phone, which had been through an entire battery by lunchtime today, rang again. Eyes rolled skyward, I answered bluntly and found my husband at the other end. Phew - not from work! I was about to drop my guard and enjoy the call when I realized he was calling from the grocery store. *sigh*

"Should I get a lot of hamburger meat? The avocado's not ripe so I need a different dinner."

"I don't think it's a good idea. The freezer's not fixed and I'd hate to have more meat spoil. We'll stock up again after the parts get here." I ignore the part about the avocado, figuring all will become clear eventually. My call-waiting beeps and we hang up.

A bit later the house phone rings, another call from the store. "What kind of wild rice do we get? I thought it comes in a box but all they have here is bags. Long grain?"

"The wild rice comes in a yellow box, the size of box mac & cheese. It's down by party couscous (tricolor - very festive)."

"Oh! Right. Not in foreign foods. With the other rice." I hear cart noises and picture his path from imports to domestic carbs. A beat or three after the cart noises stop, he says, "I don't see it. Long grain & wild?"

"No, just wild. Yellowish box. Either on the very top shelf, or down toward the bottom. Around your knees. The only kind of all-wild rice they have," I offer, "We get it all the time! You must remember the box?"

"Welllllll..." There's a pause, then he begins to ask about salsa (which is right next to domestic rice in that aisle. He sounds much less stressed while talking salsa than he sounded about the rice. I think I should be worried.

"We like the lime & garlic salsa. Did you find the rice?"

"Oh! No. But salsa's right here. Lime & garlic store-brand?"

"That's fine. The rice should be toward the bottom. Do you see the party couscous?"

"HERE it is. On the bottom, near my ankles. How will anyone know to buy it if it's down there?"

More phone-support follows, on topics like cereal and baking supplies. I wonder if it wouldn't have been easier to just go myself. I wonder that every single time I don't go on the grocery trip. I wonder if I can use these calls on my resume in case I'm ever out for a telephone tech support position. Anyone who has ever sent her spouse out solo for groceries would probably hire me in an instant.

15 Home Games!

WAHOO!!

You may even be able to see the video clip...

Bling Bling!

I spent my weekend playing in the Hockey Fights MS tournament in Allentown, PA. A few women from my team (the Wings) joined forces with another team that didn't have a full roster (the Blades) and the "Blings" were born. We all had a great time! The Blades and their coach welcomed us warmly - by the second day we were chatting and teasing like old friends. Best of all, I even scored a couple of goals! Much fun!

All proceeds from the tournament benefited the National Multiple Sclerosis Society.

I'm off to Chicago for a few days for work...

A little flood, anyone?

Our usually calm trickle-creek took over the world this afternoon. I can't really say we had rain - it was more like Niagara Falls decided to go on vacation and was passing through our town on the way to DC or something.

The pictures are a little foggy, as I had the camera under a gallon size baggie to keep it dry (it was still pouring out). Thankfully, the creek is at the lower edge of our property. We got some water in the basement but the houses down the hill from us were much worse off. Also, for some magic reason, we're the only house in the road with power. Chris thinks they're afraid I might rewire something if our power goes off. Go figure!

Endangered Monkeys

In case you were worried, monkeys in our backyard need not fear; they are protected by the self-proclaimed (and self-dressed) "Monkey Rescue Boys" who, aided by the dragon, will ensure that no monkeys are lost or stranded. The MRB set off just after lunch, with their father and "some REAL rope."

In case you weren't worried, maybe you should consider it.

Who's crazy?

The gods must be crazy. Either that, or my husband is. "The Gods Must Be Crazy" was on TV and it seems he paused on the channel long enough for it to become of interest to the kids. They spent a good portion of dinner tonight recounting the hilarity for me (I worked in the city today), laughing so hard that tears spilled out and hiccups were had. We may need a copy of our own so they can enjoy repeat viewings without the annoyance of commercials.

No change

I managed to give myself permanent blue hair highlights this week, using cyan ink from my printer (I was trying to fix the printer…it was hot, I was pushing hair off my face…didn’t realize I had ink all over my finger!). After several curious looks and guarded comments (as if they thought I maybe liked odd blue patches in my hair) during meetings yesterday, I resolved to try to fix my hair. So, this morning, I spent half an hour worrying my hair would fall out/turn pink/break into frizzy shards while I colored it, wondering if blue streaks would be better than a hot pink head for an important meeting tomorrow. In the end, it seems I picked a good shade to use – the blue streaks are no longer visible and my hair is exactly the same color as it usually is. Still...while this result is exactly what I wanted, it’s sort of disappointing to go through the whole coloring your hair dance for absolutely no change.

In love, again, some more

I've always thought Sean Connery is fine to see and heavenly to listen to. On recommendation from my Mom, I got "Darby O'Gill and the Little People," a 1959 Disney film, off Netflix. There he is! Sean himself, all young and dreamy! The film is a cute, very predictable Disney, but I'll watch it one hundred times if Sean will be in each showing...

Rafting with Rob

We spent a beautiful afternoon rafting on the Delaware with our friend Rob. We used to (read: before kids) go every year but have missed at least seven summers. This is the first year the kids are old enough to enjoy the trip and boy, did they! Rafting has plenty of adventure with mild rapids, rock climbing, and bus rides (to and from launch points) and just enough relaxation - floating in the river, lounging on a warm rock. Add a bit of food and a whole lot of sunscreen and you have a perfect day!

Lars, hockey guy & birdwatcher

Lars has adopted our enormous guide to North American birds. He carries it around on his tour of the day almost as faithfully as he carries Glubby. The three of them may often be found on the front porch, trying to match the birds on the feeder to pictures in the book. He knows exactly where to find Cardinals, Blue Jays and Canada Geese (although we thankfully haven't got the geese at home - they hang out at the school). He can find the woodpecker section but he's a bit unclear on which woodpeckers we have - usually you can hear them better than you can see them during full foliage. I'm impressed that he's learning to use the index. I'm impressed that he hasn't abandoned the book (it's pretty bulky and heavy). If he hasn't got the tome along when he spys an unfamiliar bird, he will usually tell you a made-up name with great authority. These fictional monikers used to be easy to spot ("largle winged tree bird" or "andoblesson walder") but lately I've noticed the non-names are getting trickier. Today, for example, we beheld the mighty sight of a "banded blackwing wren" and if he hadn't been staring so intently at the 'band-aid' wrapper, I might have missed the jump from reality to not quite. Kids keep you on your toes!

What doesn't kill you...

I made it through the clinic! I didn't require any hospital visits or extra oxygen (although quite a few band-aids and an awful lot of gatorade went to the cause)! I got a nice patch with an acheivement stick for surviving. I plan to get it put on my team jacket so anyone who knows what this clinic is like can be all impressed:


Chris and the kids came to watch the last hour tonight and then we all went out to Rita's for ices after. Yum!

Do not try this at home (it's a waste of good wine)

According to Chris, white wine and club soda do not make a very good poor man's champagne. *sigh* The things he gets up to while I'm out playing hockey!

Self improvement

Since I took up playing ice hockey last year and found that I enjoy it, I've made a point of taking lessons and going to clinics in an attempt to improve my fledgling skating skills. In January, my rink started advertising a week-long power skating clinic for beginner to intermediate skaters. Chris encouraged me to sign up for it and, after consulting the calendar and my bank account, I did. Flash forward seven months to today, the first day of the clinic. It was not as painful as I've been fearing and I did not perish halfway through the first session...but I do have that, "Oh, I'm going to be sore in the morning," feeling. We'll see how I feel on Saturday when the whole thing is over. Is it sad that I'm glad there are a bunch of under 11's in the clinic so that there are at least a few people I can out-skate?

Things to do in San Francisco, part 1

Besides lose your heart...

Tour the Boudin Sourdough Bakery. Who knew watching bread being made could enthrall kids for an hour and a half?


Feed the birds. We did, twice.


Get ice cream at Swenson's. Jody's right, Chewy Crunchy Chocolate was totally the best pick.

Test out a west-coast playground. Good ratings were given by both reviewers.


House hunt. In my next life (or when I have $142M, whichever comes first...), I'm living here:

More words the kids have taught us

Intendo - the handheld version of a video game console which causes you to forget whatever it was you intended to do.

Specific Ocean - the one touching the USA West Coast, right by where the wedding was. As in, "Mama! Come this way! The Specific Ocean is RIGHT HERE!"


Terrorgraph Hill - the one with all the steps and parrots in San Francisco or an amusement park ride Chris would rather avoid.

Boy Scouts, beware

Items found in a large red knapsack the children took along for their hike in the woods today:

Houseshoes, two pair (red & blue)
A Bob the Builder plastic saw
Pokemon Suduku stickers
Pokemon Crackers
Pokemon Notebook (for use in writing down clues)
Baby's bottle & rattle (baby was carried along, wrapped in his blanket)
One blue hockey puck
A Japanese Pokemon Card
The Pokemon Suduku game board
A miniature deck of Old Maid cards
A purple eraser
One large, rectangular, green foam block

Clearly, they were prepared for anything.

Public Displays of Bad Grammar (PDBGs)

Public displays of bad grammar usually annoy me. Today’s example, found in our pediatrician’s office, is much too funny to be annoying:

Were diaper snacks really enough of a problem to warrant a sign?

Sin & Atonement

We're going to a wedding next week and Lars has outgrown the arms on all his dress shirts (further proof that he actually is his father's son). So I took a quick swing by Talbots yesterday to pick one up...and discovered myself smack in the middle of their semi-annual clearance sale. I adore the Talbots sale! I usually live for the Talbots sale but was ignoring it on purpose this year in light of our restricted finances. Alas, fate was looking out for me (or not) and so, in spite of my plan to have the kids look a little stained and patchy this summer, they got another round of very nice clothes at a fabulous discount rate and will therefore be able to look cute and well heeled when required. Please don't even ask about whether or not I stopped to see if there was anything useful in Talbot Petite for myself. Not even if you see me looking cute in flowered pants (deemed "cool" by Ross) that you've never seen me wear before.

As atonement for my sin of overspending the budget, I finally kept my vow to update Playroom. Gone are the toddler toys, broken Happy Meal knickknacks, coloring books with no pages left uncolored, crayons too tiny to use! Game boards are reunited with pieces and cards! Games with too many missing bits are simply missing - if anyone asks about them, I'll consider replacing the game but my feeling is the missing bits have been reassigned because nobody actually likes the game. Playroom actually looks like a room it might be fun to play in again…rather than a heap of things forgotten. Best of all, we’ve got half a year before anyone’s birthday so there’s a chance the stuff level might stay manageable for a while. I’m off to bet Chris how long it will be before the kids make a wreck of the room again… :)

From the backseat

"Mama, look! My knee!" I glance back and see that, where yesterday there was a skinned knee, today there is a scab. My five year old is stroking it lovingly with one finger, a dreamy sort of look on his face. He sighs and says, around his thumb, "It's at my favorite part...scabby!"

From the other side of the car, my seven year old pipes up, "Check this out! Here and here! [indicates small scar on his own knee and then a current scab on his arm] - I've been scabby for SEVEN YEARS."

Happy Birthday!

We celebrated Chris' birthday last night with dinner at a fantastic restaurant near our house. We hadn't been in before but will surely go again! In addition to fabulous food and excellent service, it's the sort of place that's at once formal and comfortable, making it a perfect spot to enjoy a special meal. Many, many, many thanks to Bibliofilly for coming over to stay with the boys while we went out!

I couldn't be more proud!

Some kids use sidewalk chalk to make hopscotch or four-square boards. My kids use sidewalk chalk to make a hockey rink:

Risking arrest

Chipmunks are cute! Really, isn't this guy adorable?

Adorable, until you meet his 87 siblings and discover they're all living under your house. Then you start to think cuteness is more cute from a bit farther off. Someone told me to scatter mothballs around to ward them off but the exterminator said all that does is make your place smell funny and potentially poison children, pets, and your water supply. I keep hoping the hawks (yes, we have hawks) will notice the wealth of food and start hanging out here more often... but I think the chipmunks know about the hawks and have based their operations under the porch for a reason. After a bit of internet research involving exterminator sites, Cooperative Extension sites, and personal pages of others who have survived a chipmunk infestation, I've determined that the most effective way to get rid of chipmunks is to actually get rid of them. This means trap them and then either take them miles away to some other field or kill them. One website shows instructions for how to hook up an Electrocution Pad to your Have-a-heart trap - a rig that gave me a giggle. Why go to the trouble of using a Have-a-heart trap if you're going to fry the catch? So, this morning finds us with a small trap (sans electrocution set-up) in the front yard, baited with peanut butter. Considering the number of times the "peanut note" was sent home this year, I'm wondering if we're risking arrest having peanut butter in a cage trap on the front lawn. What if, rather than a small rodent, an allergic child is hypnotically drawn to the globby brown, peanutty goodness? If you hear sirens coming from our neck of the woods, send Epi-pens and bail.

Breakfast discovery

"Mama, sweeted wheat puffs* stick to your skin. You put them on your face and when they're done sticking, they fall off!"

"What do you do with them then?"

"You pick them up and you put them in your MOUTH."

"Do they stick to your tongue?"

"Ummmmm, no."



*'sweeted wheat puffs' = store brand honey smacks

Skating with the Devil

Although we remain a family of Sabres fans (well, except for Ross, the Rangers fan - traitor!), the kids jumped at the chance to skate a clinic with an NHL player...even though he was a NJ Devil. At least he was rooting for Edmonton to win the Cup! They're the two #20s in the picture, Ross in gold, Lars in red.

We interrupt this school day...

Periodically, a notice will come home from the elementary school informing us of a potential danger in the neighborhood - a bear, a person sighted too often where they shouldn't be, peanut butter sent to the school. Today's note bore the news that the Police were called on Friday to remove a person found "sunbathing in an inappropriate manner" on the back fields at the school. The notice contains an apology that we were not told on Friday (the timing was such that a message was not able to be crafted before dismissal) and an assurance that no one was in danger at any time during the incident or arrest. I think I'm more disturbed about the bear than the topless sunbather. To the best of my knowledge, nobody has ever been killed by an angry boob...

The mow-lawner

"That guy cutting the grass has a REALLY big mow-lawner! Look!" I glance out the car window and see that yes, in fact, the landscape service guy is riding around a somewhat modest lawn atop a very large tractor-type mower. "Do you think he will come to our house next? If we stop and ask him with our polite words?"

"Polite words are always a good idea but, in this case, I don't think they'd be quite enough. It looks like landscaping is his job, so he probably won't do work at our house unless we pay him for his service."

"We should stop and ask him. Don't you want a mow-lawner guy, Mama?"

"I already have three "mow-lawner" guys, little one. You, your dad, and your brother!"

"But Daddy says I can't do the mowing yet."

"You'll be big enough sooner than you think. Until then, you can keep helping with the trash and the dishes."

"Am I still the luckiest boy?"

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"That's what I think, too."

Wild Things

Ack!

Unexpected help (from Pixie) has caused a random template change and loss of all my links and whatnot on my sidebars. I haven't got time to fix it right now and Pixie is napping, blissfully unaware of what she's done. Note to self...cat using keyboard as a step up to windowsill: BAD.

Everlasting fun

Then (Christmas 2001):



















Now:

Lovely language

"hole bowl" = colander. As in, "I'll get the hole bowl so you can wash the grapes for my snack."

...and pretend you said, "...

"...and pretend that was my robot you were talking to."

"You know you were speaking to MY robot? And you saw what happens, he does this and then his web comes out from here and goes like this and it's so long that he floats away and you can't catch him. So you have to put on your jet-shoes and then you caught him and he's floating with his feet up here and you have to jump down and so you SWOOOOP like this and you go HUHWWAH - WOOOOOAH and then he jumps back and it's like he's flying."

"YEAH! I AM SO COOL! When I do all that stuff! And pretend you said, 'WOAH! You are so cool!'"

How to treat a splinter

"Dr. Mama! I have a splinter in my hand!"

"Come into the kitchen and I'll take it out - there's better light." [CLOMP-CLOMP-CLOMP] Lars appears in the doorway clad in shorts, t-shirt, and winter boots, a wooden sword stuck down the back of his shirt, Glubby (his yellow bear) dangling by a ribbon from one wrist. He sticks the splinter hand out toward me as he enters, then abruptly stops and yanks his hand back.

"Do you know what I need? To cool me and help with my splinter? And it's a big splinter, see?" He purposefully shows the heel of his hand but keeps it close to his chest.

"That is a pretty big splinter, Little. What do you need to cool you?" I manage not to snort and to keep a mostly somber face.

"Cake," he declares, eyes on the freshly baked good on the counter. "I need cake to cool me." I have to turn around so he can't see my face and hold my nose to keep from bursting out laughing!

Luckily, there's a portable phone sitting right in front of me. I pick it up and dial my mother, holding out the phone to Lars. "Here, ask Grandmoo about your cake," I say, and pick up the tweezers to deal with the splinter. There's a chance she'll agree with him but it's more likely that using the phone will distract him from the cake altogether (or at least until after dinner). The splinter is easy to remove and my mother is delighted by the call. She totally misunderstood what Lars had to say and he, as expected, forgot what he wanted to ask in the middle of all the explaining he was trying to do.

As soon as the splinter was out he shouted, "Goodbye! I love you! I have to go and fight the dragon!" down the phone and hung up, racing out of the kitchen to catch up with his brother in the yard. At the front door he paused and called, "Oh! Mama! Thank you for getting out the splinter!" The door slammed behind him and I heard the clomping on the porch get fainter and then louder again. "Oh and Mama," he said through the screen, "I even thank you even though you forgot to give me my cooling cake." I guess he didn't forget after all!

Overdue vacation post

We spent Memorial Day at the lake with Chris' family with lots of cute kids and lots of things to do wtih boats:

Karen needs...

While randomly clicking from blog to blog today, I encountered a meme that actually made me laugh and I decided to try it for myself. Here’s what you do: Enter your FIRST name followed by the word ‘needs’ into a Google search. Read and copy the Title for the first 15 search results (sans repeats). You might be surprised to find what you ‘need’ - things you never knew you needed before! I found that:

1. Karen needs to Grow Up!
2. Karen needs a New job
3. Karen needs Cardio Strength Circuit Training
4. Karen needs Professor Pelvic (to) Practice(-s) His Thrusts
5. Karen needs a World Gospel Mission Following God’s Call
6. Karen needs a Msg. from Karen’s Nana
7. Karen needs to Search and dedicate herself to someone special
8. Karen needs a therapist
9. Karen needs a Jack
10. Karen needs a Data meeting in Porterville with Lew Jump, Tony Caprio…
11. Karen needs a Free Range Librarian
12. Karen needs Kiwis Graphics Business Website Templates
13. Karen needs Better Homes & Gardens
14. Karen needs Loans 101
15. Karen needs The WB – Talk

The blogger I picked this meme up from “added an add’l hoo-rah-rah” and squished all her needs into a single paragraph, which reminded me of Julie Berry’s (like the fruit) Vocabulover’s challenges and made me appreciate the meme even more. In the name of random silliness, here’s my “meme-agraph”:

According to a Msg. from Karen’s Nana, Karen needs to Grow Up and get a New Job! If she keeps running the World Gospel Mission Following God’s Call, she’ll become the poster girl for Loans 101; she’d surely do better designing Kiwis Graphics Business Website Templates or writing articles for Better Homes & Gardens about how to Search and dedicate yourself to someone special. Jack may not think Karen is a reliable authority on the topic, especially not after the Data meeting in Porterville with Lew Jump, Tony Caprio… but what can be done? All that Cardio Strength Circuit Training really prepared her for Professor Pelvic to Practice His Thrusts. Her therapist maintains that if Karen returns to work as a Free Range Librarian, The WB will Talk for sure!

Tonight's lotto numbers are...

As long as I'm not winning lotto, Heather had better be the one to hit. Following a week (a WEEK) of uncomfortable labor, she contracted a UTI which turned into a kidney infection which led to an exciting day in the ER today. Well, exciting if your idea of excitement includes hours spent in a split-back gown wondering if you will be reported because your cell phone keeps going off... I must admit our dish session was fun but the venue left a little to be desired. Next time, we'll have to try for manicures or martinis or maybe both (we should be so lucky)! It's less fun when your chats are interrupted with hunting down your sister's (heh...) nurse and lobbying for breast pumps, pain meds, and food. Food? She's hungry? Uhhhh, yes. Eight hours later, the nursing mother is, in fact, hungry. Now that we're pretty certain surgery is not on deck for today, could she please have something to eat? So, certainly next time, food. And drink. ha-HA!

P.S. The result of the week of painful labor is a beautiful baby girl!

No known cure

Most of WNY and many WNY ex-pats are having the now all too familiar feeling of major sports loss. The first Superbowl gave us the virus and every near-win since has caused flare ups. WNYers are historically tenacious (you have to be to live through the winters) and I remain hopeful that the elusive cure (no doubt an actual win) will be discovered in my lifetime.

Third Round, Game 6 or; A Great Way to Keep My Kids Still for a While

Ross had a great day at school. Lars did all his schoolwork and helped clean up his toys. Chris made dinner. I did the banking and cleaned up after dinner. Why the bursts of industry? Hockey. It's all about hockey. The Sabres are in the third round of the playoffs and Game 6 is on now. After a disappointing game Sunday, the Sabres are down, two wins to the Hurricanes three. They have to win tonight or they're done for the season. The hope in our living room is tangible; you can smell possibility (or maybe that's the new lavendar cleaner?). We're about to end the first period ahead by one (score is 1:0, Sabres). The kids will head up for bed, maybe to have sweet dreams and awake to news of a win...

Update: WIN! 2-1, Sabres in OT. Game 7 on Thursday!

Library Renegade

As a kid, I loved the library. I lived close enough to our local branch to walk over on my own and did so often that I knew each house along the route by heart. Sadly, at some point in my teens, the library turned into a research facility and then dropped out of my life altogether as my paper-writing days waned. I’ve tried to reignite the glory days, testing libraries in each new place I’ve lived, but have always been disappointed. This branch has hours only an unemployed person could possibly use. That branch has staffers specially trained to make you feel guilty for borrowing materials if you look even remotely moneyed enough to be able to buy your own. Eventually, I gave up and did exactly that, leaving the libraries of the world to those less fortunate than I and pretty much filling up all the wonderful, floor-to-ceiling bookcases that lined two rooms of our house. And then, we moved.

Without fabulous built-in bookcases, the 23 boxes of books we had were stuck without a home. Our few portable bookcases filled up fast. We diverted five boxes of paperbacks to a neighbor in the old street. Two more were liquidated at a garage sale in the new ‘hood. The remaining twelve boxes are stashed in the spare room, a cardboard reminder that we really shouldn’t buy any more books.

For a time, magazines sufficed. We signed up for a few publications, read them and recycled them and reveled in having something to read that didn’t require shelf space. After a while, though, we realized something was missing, namely books. We missed reading books.

So, in the name of being frugal (both financially and in terms of storage), we visited the library in our new town….and there was MUCH rejoicing.

Our new library has useful hours. The staff are polite and helpful and generally seem happy that people are using the library. Best of all, you can access your library record on-line and reserve books – the library will call when your reserved items are ready to be picked up and you can swing by to get them. The only thing that might make me happier is if they delivered.

For two years, we’ve been exemplary library patrons. We’ve had the odd fine but we’re generally very prompt and typically feel a mix of shame and sheepishness when returning something late and paying a fine….until now. You see, I’m in the middle of a rather weighty tome that came with a very short borrowing window as a lot of people have holds on it. Also, because of the holds, you can’t renew it. I’m enjoying the story and there is no way I’ll be done by the due date, so I figured I’d return it and just buy a copy. I can probably loan my copy out to two or three friends and might even read it again myself – it would get quite a lot of use. I mentioned my plan to a librarian friend, bibliofilly. She looked at me incredulously and said, “Just don’t return it. Really, it’s not like the fine will crush you – it’s only ten cents per day.” This from a librarian? A directive to willfully not return a book on time? Riiiiight.

I’ve been stewing on it, though and, in thirty-two minutes, I will officially be a library renegade. My heart is already pounding a bit. I know when the book is due. I know where the book is. I’m just not bringing it back! I am sitting here specifically NOT leaping into my car with the book to get to the library before it closes. Worse, I’m going to take it out of state at the weekend. Chris can speed all he wants…if there are flashing lights in the rearview, it will likely be the literary police looking for my overdue book.

Spring Thaw

As the world warms to spring, so do the depths of our freezer. Yesterday we discovered a no-longer frozen ice-cream soup and some slightly thawed bricks of other things, prompting a Stern Lecture on how the children are not to go in the freezer unattended until they are at least ten years old. At least! We tossed the spoiled ice cream, cleaned up the stickiness and firmly closed the freezer, figuring the meat hadn't defrosted enough for any horrible things to spawn. This morning, a freezer check revealed the entire contents of the freezer unfrozen. Still very, very cold but all pliable. UGH. The good news is that I usually let the frozen stores wane in spring and summer, when it is unlikely that weather will prevent a weekly shopping run. The bad news is that I still had a good two weeks of meat stored and now it's all got to be eaten or at least cooked before I can refreeze it. Anyone have a good recipe for cooked chicken or cooked maple-flavored breakfast sausage? We'll do something with the beef this week and I left the chops I just stuck in there last night, figuring they were never frozen in the first place. I'm considering installing a siren that will blare if the freezer door is open. I think it would be less annoying than periodically having to cook everything all at once.

The seven days of Mother's Day

On the first day of Mother's Day, my true love gave to me: A full-garden Roto-tilling spree!

On the second day of Mother's Day, my bug love gave to me: A sequinned jewelry box, hand painted with pictures of me (and an island...)!

Also on the second day of Mother's Day (because we were just too excited), my little love gave to me: A lovely purple orchid in a black pot with a "cracky crack here, see?" (this plant selected particularly for the interesting noise made by the plastic pot when you play with the crack in the edge...)

Still on the second day of Mother's Day (but we CAN'T wait!), my two loves gave to me: A self decorated cookie with lots of frosting so you can share with me (and me!)

On the third (phew!) day of Mother's Day, my true love gave to me: a beautiful white orchid ("it goes with my purple and you really can't wait, Daddy!")

On the fourth day of Mother's Day all my loves gave to me: a trip to the garden center to choose plants for the newly tilled gardens (no, thank you, I do not want an apple tree...).

On the fifth day of Mother's Day my true loves gave to me: Chinese take-out dinner so we could use our new hashi.

On the sixth day of Mother's Day my NHL hockey team gave to me: a second-round playoff victory!!

On the seventh day of Mother's Day (and the only one actually celebrated by most other people) we'll have blueberry pancakes, we'll plant in the gardens, we'll lunch on leftover Chinese, we'll finally eat the cookie, we'll enjoy both the orchids, and I'll put some golden rings in the box meant for jewelry...

New Things

This has been my week for trying new things. Among the most memorable:

* Making mint juleps. What a production! Quite fun, but too much work for any other reason than a Kentucky Derby party.

* Riding an MTA NYC bus. In fourteen years of living and working in here, I've always used the subway but a co-worker insisted that the bus was the way to get from where we were to where I needed to be, so I gave it a go. I must have had a "new guy" look (despite work outfit and briefcase) because the lady next to me thought that I was a tourist and kept pointing out landmarks.

* A frozen and then thawed Cadbury Creme Egg. This was an experiment to see if buying a load of them on sale at 25 cents each was going to be a good idea. The thawed version was tasty, but the freezing/thawing process makes the fondant center much more solid (think Whitman's creme centers) than the never frozen version. I prefer Creme Egg centers runny, so will stick to buying only as much as can be reasonably eaten during Creme Egg season. Please note there is no danger to the Cadbury company finances as my normal seasonal consumption probably ensures the regional guy here does pretty well.

* A deep-tissue massage. It was not a very relaxing massage to get although I felt good afterwards, as if I'd just completed an invigorating workout. I will probably not have another - I'd rather play hockey to get that just-worked-out feeling and have a relaxing massage.

* A Starbucks Mochacino. I usually order the Frappacino - a frozen confection with whipped cream and caramel that can't even pretend to be coffee. It was sort of cold, though, and I figured maybe the hot version would be equally sugary and good. Alas, the mochacino tries to hard to be coffee but misses by having too much goop in it. I don't like goop in actual coffee.

What new things did you do?

This is why I can't buy pants.

I was all happy about gaining some hockey weight until I started outgrowing my pants. Shopping, always a favorite hobby - especially when sanctioned by actually needing something rather than just going for a recreational jaunt - has lately been more an exercise in frustration than anything else. On each attempt, I've selected items one size larger than what's in my closet and gone to try them on. Uniformly, they fall to my ankles. Discouraged by the gulf between two sizes and disappointed that I won't be able to justify the pretty new skirt, I'll go get the item in the size I usually wear...just to imagine wearing it. Lo and behold, TOO BIG. The next size down from that, the smallest size in the store, also turns out to be too large. ??? I've gained enough weight and bulk to pop buttons off my waistbands at home, but can't hold up pants a size smaller in the store? At last, official word that I am not psychotic: 0 is the new 8 - The Boston Globe.

There is some satisfaction in being able to order from L.L.Beans and Land's End kids' catalogs, where a shirt in Girls is usually considerably less expensive than the identical shirt in the Womens section. I'm not much for "skorts" though, and it would be nice have a choice of prints other than pastel daisies...

Six weird things

This meme-based episode brought to you by Epiphany Alone and the number 6, as in six weird things about me:

1. I can split my toes as in making the "Live Long and Prosper" sign or saying "Nanu-nanu" to someone from Ork.

2. I can't fall asleep if my feet are cold.

3. Certain kinds of alcoholic drinks, Robitussin, and Mon Cheri cherries make me sneeze uncontrollably.

4. I am obsessive about cleaning my ears because I had a cat who either liked ear wax or assumed I was her kitten and therefore it was her duty to keep me clean. If I missed even one morning with the Q-tips, I'd find myself with a cat tongue in my ear the moment I sat down somewhere. Eeeeeew!

5. I put cream in the bottom of my mug first and then pour the coffee on top of it.

6. I can remember minute details about books I've read once, but can see a movie multiple times and still not be able to tell you who was in it or what it was about.

Just before the school bus comes, I usually collect the mail. So, I went out today and found an ants’ nest in the mailbox - thousands of our favorite tiny kitchen variety, complete with eggs. I got some bug stuff and sprayed the nest until nothing more was wiggling and went inside to wash my hands, where I found my younger son sitting in a halo of what might have been cat hair. When I curiously brushed at a few pieces on his shirt he said, “I didn’t cut my hair with my homework scissors, Mama.” Oh, really? With a resigned sigh, I steered him upstairs to repair the damage as best I could. He still looks a little patchy but it’s better than it was. After a quick run through the bathroom with the vacuum, I sprinted back downstairs to answer the phone…it was my neighbor calling to say my older son was at her house because, of course, between the ants and the haircut I totally blew off the school bus.

UGH

Mmmmm...Kleiner Feigling

Fig vodka: at once more damaging and less awful than you expect, and the little purple bottle hat is really just too cute.

Shiny Things

"Mama! You're here! Daddy is saying I have to find his wrenches but he let me take them and I had five shiny things and I counted them right over here but now I need Ross to help me find them and we were playing hide and go seek and I was doing hiding behind the shed but I didn't have any shiny things there and then I stood on this stoop and I had five but they were in my hands (clasps hands) and we went on this path to the other woods and I was running here (runs here) and then I only had one shiny thing missing from my pinkie (waggles pinkie) and it must be here (flings arm outward in arc toward woods) and then I got them off the porch and I had FIVE. And they were SHINY. And, I had five. Ross! Help me find them! We were over here!" (runs off toward the woods again)

My advice: don't ever try to reconstruct half an hour of playtime in the woods with your five year old. If you've lost something smaller than, say, a house, you have no hope of finding it. Have a drink with your mate to calm them down about it and just buy another set of sockets.

School monster

At parent-teacher conference in the fall, we learned that our first-grader was having trouble remembering to raise his hand to be called on; he'd just blurt out the answers to every question. It turned out that he didn't think raising his hand worked very well because, when he did, the teacher never called on him. She was trying to give the other kids a chance, since she knew he knew the material. That was our first indication the class wasn't quite his speed, but we didn't realize how bad things were until notes and calls describing the sort of behavior one assumes are the result of horrible parenting started coming in daily. I'll be the first to tell you our kid isn't TV Perfect (and we're not exactly the Cleavers) but he's very rarely awful and what the school described was waaaaay past awful - more like completely mortifying. Active behavior, noisy outbursts, running around in circles, crawling around on the floor, singing, and other forms of general classroom disruption were reported. No amount of asking, pleading, or reprimanding would get him to calm down. When his level of frantic activity would get disruptive enough, a classroom assissant would be called in to take him on a "calming" walk around the school. If he still wouldn't calm down, the principal would be enlisted to offer a stern but supportive word and suggest a new tactic for trying to get our son to sit still. Phone calls would be made, sometimes the teacher asking what we do to calm him down "when he gets like this at home" (note: he NEVER gets like that at home), sometimes putting our son on the line so we could try to talk him into a more cooperative mood.

Months of meetings and phone calls with the teacher and principal have followed. They implore us to work with our child to help him understand how important it is for him to sit still and pay attention to his teacher in school. We ask them to understand that the pace of the class is slower than what he's used to and ask if he might be allowed to do something productive or mildly educational, like visit the library, instead of just being walked around the halls like a skittish horse. He's not a bad kid; just really, sincerely, deeply, bored. His kindergarten class was small and filled with overactive smart kids. The teacher was thankfully energetic enough to keep up with them and, when they'd slammed through the official curriculum by Christmas, she started working on more advanced things. In consequence, he's covered most of the first grade work already and isn't mature enough to sit patiently, day after day while the other kids learn it, as his current teacher seems to expect. Seriously - what first grader is?

After what feels like hundreds of attempts to encourage different behavior from our student (god forbid the teacher should change her method at all!), we've resorted to flat-out bribery. Our "plan" includes small, almost daily bribes (a special snack after school, watching an extra period of hockey, having a friend over for dinner...), medium bribes (a movie, a special outing) for whole good weeks, and maxi-bribes which generally involve the whole family and a trip of some sort. The first maxi-bribe was a visit to Momo & Opa's and a live NHL hockey game. The next will be Disney World, in a few weeks. Another trip is planned over Memorial Day weekend. These are trips we'd planned to take anyhow, so we're sort of shamelessly reclassifying them as rewards for good days at school. As is always the case, bribery is less than effective when the recipient of the bribe suspects he'd get the booty anyhow. We have, however, possibly achieved equilibrium. Every now and then, our cherub will voice a desire for this or that, adding that he's sure it's something a boy would get, if he was well-behaved at school. In this way, we've gotten about three weeks in a row with minimal comments or complaints from the teacher.

Just as I was starting to think we might squeeze out the last couple of months until vacation in this manner, another mid-morning call came in from the school. A cheerful sounding woman identified herself as part of the behavior management team and said they'd been observing students in my son's classroom and that they'd be interested in having my son participate in a new program. She then launched into a description of the autism program, which made me balk. My son is at home with anyone. He talks to people, animals, trees, himself, his toys. He sometimes makes a three way conversation with himself and each of his hands if he wants to discuss something and can't find willing other parties. He is demonstrably empathetic. He is clearly not autistic. As it turned out, his empathy and ease talking to everyone and everything is exactly why they want him - they wanted him to be a peer model in the autism classrooms! Worried that they'd get him into the special classroom and he'd start behaving like a loon, I talked to the psych team about the problems he's been having. They were SHOCKED that nobody had contacted them about it. AMAZED that the enrichment teacher hadn't been brought in to devise special projects to help fill his time. HALLELUJAH!! At last, I feel like we've found people who can help make a comfortable place in the school for our kid. What a relief!

Rider revealed

We returned to the park today, on instruction from the new rider so he could, "get in some practice on just two wheels." Chris was smart enough to suggest bringing a camera, so we have some better pictures of the feat. The funniest pictures are behind the camera, though. Who knew it would be impossible to rollerblade after having spent the last year learning how to ice skate?!? I can't tell you how much I wished for some edges on my wheels!