More about Me

I feel like so far this year (2010) I have talked a lot about me. My goals, my past year, my plans for the coming year, etc. Well might as well keep up the trend in an attempt to even out how often I talk about the kids.

Last weekend I realized how little Wii *I* have been able to do. I looked at WiiFit and it told me it had been 29 days since I had last logged in. It is just an issue with time.

I remember a few years ago while on maternity leave a woman lamenting on Oprah that she didn't have time to work out. Oprah brushed her off and said, "you just don't want to, if you wanted to, you would make time" and then she brushed her away as though she didn't matter.

I was so offended by her attitude towards this woman. Here was Oprah, a woman who had never had children, with enough money for personal trainers and private gyms and chefs placing judgement on a harried mom who said, "I am up multiple times a night with my baby, I work, my husband works, I have an older child who needs to do homework, I am exhausted."

As someone who well understands the physiology of exercise and how it DOES make you feel better, I understand the need to exercise and how it will lift you out of a funk. But there has to be time. There are times in us normal people's lives where we ask where is the extra time? It doesn't exist. Carving out time for you? Just not going to happen. Weekends? That's the time I get to spend with my family, it's precious.

Within the last few weeks, Skadi has started sleeping better. I hate to jinx this but in 6 nights, she has slept solidly through 4 of them. And each of those 6 nights she has slept in until 7am. This is huge. We might be on to something here...

Last Saturday in honor of this new string of successes, it dawned on me that I could get up 40 minutes earlier than normal and jump on the Wii Fit.

I dragged myself out of bed at 6am Monday morning and actually had a lot of fun!

Tuesday morning was more dragging, but knowing something fun was out there.

By Wednesday and Thursday I was jumping out of bed. And this morning AB didn't have to work, so his alarm didn't go off. And the notion of staying snuggled in bed did cross my mind.

Then I got up and did my Yoga and biked 3.5 miles and waved at all my Wii family and friends with Lucky running by my side.

I am hooked.

Goals update

January is done!

Closet is organized and linen closet is done too!

I admit to planning the January goals as low hanging fruit, but they are two things that I am truly thrilled to have done.

I have two weeks left in January and so I have decided to add a bonus item.

I debated between two things - my son's walk in closet that is bigger than my own and somewhat more of a play room. Truly it is a fabulous space and the kids use it as a hide out routinely. It has boxes and stuff all over the floor. It needs organized.

Then there is the stack of stuff and boxes in the Master that needs put somewhere.

I am going to be totally selfish here and admit that the Master "put away all the stuff" has won. My reasoning here is that I organized my linen closet and was made aware of two empty shelves there. And with the Master closet organized it appears as if there is a few shelves in there too.

I have places to put all that stuff still in boxes and stacked randomly!

I figure I better tackle that one before that space disappears.

When the halo is present...

I whine a fair amount about my crazy little redhead. How her moods change with the wind... How she has yet to routinely sleep through the night... How she was *that* kid in daycare for some time... And occasionally regresses back there... How completely emotional she is... And totally irrational...

But there is a side of her that not many people see.

The side when the halo is centered perfectly over her head and nothing buy pure joy radiates. Those days - as she approaches age three - are becoming a wee bit more common.

I got a beautiful bracelet for Christmas and Skadi is still quite proud of it. Daily she comes in and asks if I have my bracelet and not only that, but then she helps me put it on.

These bracelets aren't the easiest things to put on even if you aren't a klutz. Skadi very meticulously brings the end around and sticks it ever so perfectly in the clasp end. She is amazingly patient with it. Her tiny fingers are perfect at the task and she decreases the time it takes me to get the bracelet on by at least two thirds.

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I complained the other day to AB that I haven't been taking enough food to work with me. I am usually starved by the late afternoon. Skadi has decided to do something about this and recently every morning while picking out the after school snacks that go in my bag (that VargasGirrl made me that is the perfect size and shape for all the stuff I haul to work and daycare outside my purse), she has also grabbed me a granola bar and puts it in my purse.

"For you mommy," she tells me.

And wow that granola bar has been my saviour lately.

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This evening we were playing Skadi's favorite game - hide and seek. She loves to play in teams. Normally it is she and daddy against Leif and me. But this evening we changed it up and I got to hide with her in her favorite ever hiding spot - under the covers on my and AB's bed. She got the giggles, which made me giggle. But I finally got her to be quiet.

In a hushed voice she says, "mommy?"

"Yes Skadi?" I whisper back.

"I think you are beautiful," she whispers.

Talk about melt my heart!

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Skadi is also an incredibly compassionate little girl. In fact, her teacher at daycare has marvelled about this. When a child is hurt, Skadi is the first one there saying, "you okay?" and offering an icey. This happens at home too. When I recently crushed my toe, Skadi was the one there patting my back and bringing my iceys.

A mystery of sorts

One night when I was at my mom's house we were sitting around the table eating a nice dinner when I suddenly felt my face get warm. Then it got hot. Then it got itchy.

I contemplated a Benadryl, but since I wasn't having other symptoms I held off out of fear it would zonk me out since I had had a glass (or two) of wine as well. The itching persisted a little through the evening, but went away about morning.

New Years Eve we were at my brother in laws house with pizza and beer in front of us. A few slices of pizza down and a half a beer and the heat came back, then the itching started.

I had thought things had resolved and we were back home. I made a fabulous dinner of chipotle short ribs in my new Le Creuset Dutch Oven (LOVE that thing) and wouldn't you know that my face swelled, got read and started itching.

At that point the swelling was new, but still no breathing issues. I itched throughout the night and that morning when I woke up to my swollen face I waited anxiously for the doctor's office to open so I could phone in.

Thankfully they fit me in early in the day and the doctor (a new one at my usual office) didn't really have to ask me what was going on, why I was there. It was quite obvious.

We chatted about the obvious. Affected areas being face and neck, no torso or leg involvement. Obvious hives and itching. Ruled out detergent. (I had thought it an option since we had been at my mom's and I had washed our clothes there.)

Truly I didn't care what it was, I just wanted it to go away. I declined the offer for blood work and jumped on the steroid and antihistamine.

I expected the meds to wipe it out quickly. Much to my surprise, it lingered. It lingered while AB and I worked as detectives to try and deduce what was causing this.

I don't really have allergies per se at this point in my life. At age 18 I tested positive for everything INCLUDING the negative control, when I had skin tests. And at that point, yes, I was allergic to everything. But slowly over time my allergies abated and I don't even experience seasonal allergies.

So a food allergy? Seriously?

I was a touch skeptical, I asked if he was sure it wasn't rosacea. The doc repeated, "you have hives and frankly I am surprised you aren't having breathing issues".

Sigh.

We have come up with some suspects and eliminated them from my diet and reintroduced suspect food slowly.

I have ruled out wine. (Thankfully, that was one of the first things I decided to rule out.)

I have ruled out pork. (An unlikely allergen, but I can say it isn't active in me.)

I have ruled out gluten or wheat.

Likewise milk and dairy.

Also ruled out seafood.

What have I not ruled out?

Yeast is on the fence. Most of the time I get no reaction, but there have been occasions that have made me wonder.

Chocolate.

And the big one, the one that I have eliminated for just over a week and the one that AB thinks it is... beef. Beef is the only food that I have consistently eaten prior to each of the attacks. Beef... wouldn't be as bad as gluten. But when you live with a BBQ loving husband... well let's just put it this way, it's what's for dinner. Often.

I haven't done the strict elimination test since I haven't had anaphalactic reactions. More just messing around trying to figure it out.

The doctor suggested that we do blood testing if I get a positive response, after the steroids and antihistamines. Of course, there is also the chance it is also a fluke and I will never get another response off anything. We can hope!

Reveling

For the first time since we moved in, my closet is organized.

Truly I had huge plans for this closet with shoe cubbies and shelves galore when we moved in. But stuff got stuffed in there and forgotten about. Yes, sad to say, for nearly 10 months.

Like I said before, life just kept moving on, not paying any attention to the fact that my closet was unorganized.

I spent about an hour and a half on Sunday. Really, I know, that was all it took! I had anticipated 6-8 hours.

Now that it is done I kind of just want to hang out in there.

I take my time getting my clothes out in the morning because I am not worried about what I might be stepping on or what might fall on me.

Organization, once finished, is a serious destresser. A nearly cathartic feeling comes over me when I walk in my organized closet.

I am thinking the linen closet can be tackled in two evenings while the kids bathe.

Welcome 2010

I have never been a huge fan of resolutions. I am not really sure why, but I don’t really remember ever making “New Year’s Resolutions” even as a kid. Maybe it’s because if I labeled it such, it was bound to fail simply because of the failure rate of resolutions.

A few years ago thanks to a suggestion from a friend, I embarked on a new concept. Goals.

Goals strike me as a much more forgiving concept. You can strive for your goals hard, and never quite make them, but the important thing is you tried, right? See so much more forgiving than resolving to do something!

2010 brings the return of the goals since I dropped them off big time in 2009 while we packed up our house and moved.

As usual, my goals are going to be home based. I realize I could make goals that have nothing to do with the house, but this year more than others I need the home based goals.

We bought our new house this past year and life kept moving along. Life didn’t seem to want to stop and give me a chance to unpack, set up, settle in or simply to make my new house a home.

Sure, it’s our home. But as I look around I don’t find that homey home home feel. It needs stuff, it needs attention, it needs paint, it needs organization. And I wonder routinely (and a touch concerned-like) if I will ever get a house to a point where I don’t feel like I am working on it all weekend, every weekend. I eventually want days where I can just cook and do laundry and sit around my perfectly decorated, exactly how I want it home. I need to work to get it to that point.

A new year seems to me to scream organization. It’s cold outside, so naturally I look inward. Straight in to the guts of the house. And if my house has guts, they are located in the Master Closet and Master Bath Linen Closet #2.

(Yeah, I had to get that in there… my previous entire house had only one linen closet and now I have TWO in the Master bath!)

I had grand intentions when we moved into the new house of not letting my Master Closet plummet to the depths. But plummet it has. There are clothes on the floor, a few boxes that haven’t been unpacked and clothes hanging up that I will never, ever, ever wear again.

We have a Goodwill pick up arranged for January 15th where we are getting rid of a few very large items and I would like a few boxes of clothes in there as well.

My closet IS January Goal #1.

The closet must be cleaned out, clothes and shoes sorted through and boxed up for surrender to the needy. Have you noticed me wearing old clothes the past two days? If so, I will tell you why… because I am going with that 6 month rule! If I haven’t worn it in 6 months it is moving on! And well, there are a few things in there that I don’t want to have to place the ax to, so I wore them this past weekend. But that’s our secret, right?

Once the closet is cleaned out and clothes and shoes organized there are a few things I will need to buy. I bought a key hanger from Target and used it for belts at the other house and now I want it. And since I am not going to go and ring the doorbell at the old house with a screwdriver in hand, it will require instead a trip to Target. Same for the hooks that I hung purses on. I need a place to hang my purses.

The biggest problem with BOTH of these plans is where to put the hooks and belt hangers? See our Master Closet has LOTS of shelves and built in things. Great, right? Yeah, but someone forgot about the purses and belts! This is something that will have to be figured out.

January Goal #2 is my linen closet. I never really emptied and organized anything. When we moved out of the old house I just took the organizer bins that held everything and put them in a box. Then I took them out at the new house and haven’t done anything with them. The linen closet needs purged and organized.

Neither of these tasks are large or time consuming, but both are things that NEED to be done and will contribute to my peaceful calmness I attain from having organized bits in my house. I can do these things while the kids bathe, and it isn’t going to impact my weekends or our budget (that is recovering from a holiday trip) adversely.

I have vague thoughts on the coming months… but of course AB wants buy in on anything very large or major. Organizing the closets brings only a sigh of relief from him that I am not going to be waving paint chips around or barking orders.

-We want to transform our wine closet from being a non-descript closet with cases of wine on the floor into a welcoming walk in closet with a wine rack and other miscellaneous things. Cost estimated at about $300 and two solid days of work.

-Pull outs-ville. Love my pull outs in a few of the kitchen cabinets. Love my big (recently organized) pantry. Cannot for the life of me figure out what to do with our spices. And we have LOADS of spices. We had in mind what we wanted – those hidden cute little pull outs nestled in next to the stove – but since we aren’t redoing our entire kitchen for spice racks, I had to go back to square one. Or at least to Google. And I found these:

Ready to be installed pull outs that hold spice bottles! And that will fit PERFECTLY in the current spice jamboree cabinet that is 10” wide and each pull out is 3” wide. In theory, we can fit three in the cabinet side by side by side. Cost estimated at about $400 for hardware and two days of my husband’s time whining and moaning. But a large payoff is anticipated.

-Dining room. Have the table, have the buffet/china cabinet. Must paint. Must, must, must get rid of the swirly 90’s stenciling done over the doorway and the maroon curtains and light fixture. Cost anticipated at about $500 including color consultation with a friend who has been newly annointed with the label interior decorator. I will have a nicely painted, color coordinated front of my house. I will.

-Play Room. Oh my. This is a big one. AB wants to rip out the carpet and put in bamboo flooring. The carpet is awful and AB has a deep seated need to put in a floor. It is a very square room and will be a great place to start. The needs for this room though are endless. An organizing unit for toys, a TV/entertainment center, a sofa or other seating… we would use this room more as a family if it were more organized/user friendly. This goal has so many layers to it.

-Outdoor area. We have been talking about what we need as far as an outdoor living area and are working on reaching consensus. It will be a big one, but one that I know we will enjoy and use based off of the success of our pergola/patio at the other house. We need this outdoor living area in this house and presently we have nothing that works for this. I expect this will be a multi-month project this spring.

-Master Bedroom. Our Master Bedrooms have never been anything to get excited about. We need paint and storage space and something nice to sit in. And frankly, I just need all the boxes lined up under the window unpacked. Of course then I need somewhere to put the stuff, which means some type of storage thing. I am thinking about a long bench for under the window with storage underneath. I could use two of them – one for the library too – anyone seen anything like this?

Farewell 2009

I am no numerologist, but I like numbers. I like good numbers like 8 (my favorite) and 4 and multiples of such. Odd numbers have never been my friend. And I truly find it just perplexing that the two best things that happened to me were born not only on odd numbers, but on prime numbers. My sister loved the number 3 and so it should come as no surprise that I despised the number 3. The only thing worse than 3 is squaring it or even worse than that is raising it to it’s own power.

Given this, I expect the year 2027 to be a bad year only because 2009 really left much to be desired.

To this point in my life I can’t look back on a year in general and say, “that year just really sucked”, except for 2009. Because really, when I look back on junior high and high school and while I may not have liked them – they never held a candle to the complications of adulthood.

2009 was the year my mom faced the battle of her lifetime with an evil foe – cancer. And it wasn’t an easy cancer (like my squamous cell carcinoma on my nose that also occurred in 2009), nope my mom’s cancer is one of those nasty, rare cancers where little research has gone into it – cholangiocarcinoma or cancer of the bile duct. If you are faced someday with getting to select a cancer, don’t pick this one. It is evil. It is one of those cancers that is something like a lottery, no clear indication what causes it or why a person was selected which probably makes it harder to swallow when the unlucky recipient has been very health conscious for so much of her life. Negative cubed.

Life… ‘tis not a fair venture.

2009 was the year of my daughter’s terrible twos which was repayment for all those times I marveled that “Leif didn’t have terrible twos!” Don’t ever utter such proclamations or karma will bite hard.

2009 is the year one of our closest friends battled lymphoma, my best friend in Colorado’s dad was ill with pancreatitis for months, she was laid off her job and it seemed that everyone around us was affected by illness or hardship in some way.

2009 was also the best year in my and AB’s respective careers.

2009 brought us a new home and all the joy and frustrations that accompany that venture. The whole moving thing… all the boxes… wondering if boxes will eventually unpack themselves… wondering if the trash can may be the best place for all the boxes… selling the house we brought our babies home to… learning how to navigate stairs… sweaty or frozen nights trying to figure out how to heat a two story home comfortably… and a whole new “To Do Someday” list. Despite all the frustrations with the moving process it is still far better than the cramped, too small, ineffective house we moved from.

2009 was the last full year before Leif will enter “real school” aka kindergarten, thanks to the decision we made to give him another year to mature. 2009 also brought mostly all kudos from people who agreed with this decision but was not void of criticisms from those people completely unaffected by this decision who felt the need to tell us what is best for our child and on occasion still take that opportunity to nip at it. But that’s part of parenting – listening to the people around you who you love and respect and then coming to the conclusion that is right for your family and moving on without regret. (Even if that regret is in not socking someone in the face for their comments…)

2009 brought a year of little sleep coupled with lots of middle of the night hugs and loves from a tiny little red headed girl.

2009 was my 50% year with yeast based breads. One failure for Easter and one success at Thanksgiving.

2009 was a year of reconnecting on Facebook and sudden realizations of why certain friendships were dropped so long ago. As well as some ponderings of why I would have let some friendships drop off because they are truly one of a kind. And can’t forget those paralyzing moments of seeing ex’s faces on my Suggested Friends lists… then a little bit of curiosity that comes up and forces you to click on them and “just see” how miserable they have to still be. Followed by the reality that they look darn happy. But mostly it was a year of wow – everyone I knew in high school, for the most part, really rocked it and are doing superbly as well.

2009 was the year I found out the boy I had a major crush on in junior high, died at age 37.

2009 was the year I became a touch obnoxious (or obsessive) with my iPhone.

2009 was the year of the Wii and AB’s and my first foray into trying to figure out how much is too much for a 5 year old.

2009 was the year of wondering if we will EVER see another good movie? Star Trek saved us from just assigning a big, huge NO as the answer to that question.

2009 was a most frustrating year with my 86 year old grandmother who should not be driving, nor living at home by herself. It has required patience and a sense of humor approaching her repetitive statements, her stubbornness, her paranoia, and reconciling them with her lucid moments. It is hard to understand how a person can believe that those people who surround her and love her the most, would be identified as so horrible in her mind.

2009 brought a decent sushi restaurant to the area (blocks from our home) and not only that, but it has become my kids’ favorite place to eat. Umm yay! Want a guarantee that my kids will eat and enjoy the food? Then let’s go for Japanese. 2009 – Leif loves miso soup.

2009 was the year my son first questioned whether Santa was real or not… but has not yet asked where babies come from. Phew.

2009 brought weeks… maybe months… of debate over vehicles and many declarations about “not buying new” and trying to reconcile our need for a large towing vehicle with the current “go green” mentality. When we got over it all, 2009 brought us a shiny new 2010 Toyota Sequoia along with a hefty car payment that is painful after years of no car payments.

2009 introduced us to a new church that felt amazingly like home.

As I type this out I look at all the good. All the blessings. All the love. All of these things that goes along with the sadness. The despair. The knowledge that I cannot move mountains.

But I can hope and pray and look towards a bright 2010. Because that is what we do, we persevere. We lift up and move forward. We do what we can full of love.

Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda...

I always used to wonder why airlines overbooked. I mean, really, who misses flights? Do that many people cancel at the last minute, or are there that many people who just forget, or just biff it all together?

Way back when my flying experience was close to nill, or amounted to a trip every few years (my family all lived nearby), flying was a BIG deal. Something I looked forward to in a way. The thought of not being 110% prepared never crossed my mind.

I suppose now that we fly a few times a year (Leif has redeemed frequent flier miles twice now), and I travel on occasion for work, flying isn't something I look forward to and is more commonplace. We know what we can take, we know how to negotiate airports with small children, flying just isn't something we get worked up about.

And now I know how a flight can get missed, because I did it.

See we were waiting in the long line at Delta the other day where a single person was manning the counter. We had checked in our 24 hours in advance and were there to check our loads of luggage (two car seats and three bags for the four of us). We stood in line about 20 minutes and finally got to check our bags.

AB, Leif and Skadi were on one confirmation and I was on another (with no bags) because I redeemed miles for my ticket. We get the luggage checked as I searched and searched for my ID.

I felt that pit in my stomach as I thought to the day before.

I had picked up the kids early and run to the bank to deposit two checks. I wanted more cash so that I could leave the housecleaner a tip. So I slipped my ID into the teller canister with my checks and deposit slip. My cash, ID and receipt came back in an envelope and two suckers as well for the kids. I tossed the envelope in my cup holder and unwrapped the lollipops for the screaming banshees occupying the back seat.

We got home and I scooped up the stuff and went in and finished getting us ready. I cleaned out my scary purse - getting rid of the crumbs in the depths and all the piles of change that I know can be a magnet for a rescreen.

That morning AB came down the stairs and announced, "well that was a near miss! I changed my pants and forgot my wallet was in the other pants!"

I rolled my eyes at him because that would have been JUST like him to lose his wallet on the day we were leaving.

We got in the car and left.

So when I felt that pit of my stomach at the Delta counter I knew exactly where my ID was. It had slipped out of the envelope in the car into my cup holder.

And we had taken AB's car to the airport and mine was at home.

T minus 45 minutes until lift off, could I make it? AB, Leif and Skadi headed through security hoping we could secure a bump (just in case) because that would mean a free ticket and a reprieve until the next flight in case I didn't make it back.

I ran to the car and jumped in and started driving while I should of how this could have happened.

I should have checked my purse when AB commented on nearly not having his ID. I never don't have my ID in my purse though, but why did I not check for it?

I had no problems zooming home at 5mph over the speed limit. I ran to my car and saw my ID and jumped back in. I pulled into the airport with 10 minutes to spare, I was going to make it.

Then the phone rang and AB announced I had 40 seconds. Actually "nevermind, they just closed the door. We missed our flight."

The tears came immediately. I missed our flight? AB had opted not to get on without me.

We made our way to the counter while AB did his best to argue that we would have made it had they not decided to leave early to no avail. We were supposed to all be through security by the time it indicated on the ticket and I hadn't made it.

Rescheduling for the next day was going to run a hefty $842 per ticket for the next day and there were no mileage tickets. We briefly contemplated jumping in the car and driving, but were then presented with the option of rescheduling for Christmas morning at a modest fee. We took it.

And that... is how you miss a flight.

I spent a lot of time kicking myself, while alternating with knowing that things happen for a reason. There was a horrible storm in Colorado wreaking havoc with the roads we were to drive. Maybe we narrowly missed a car accident? My kids' noses were running like fountains - maybe we spared my immune compromised mom from illness? My mom wasn't feeling well after her chemo, maybe it was better that we scootched our trip two days on both the arrival and departing?

Things happen for a reason and I am choosing to believe that we were meant to spend Christmas eve in our home.

Skadi and I put the Christmas tree back up this morning and redecorated it (after Lucky had knocked it down a few days before). I have shrimp bisque on the stove simmering and fresh Dungeness to go steam. And a Christmas eve service to make it to with our friends - our local family.

And the kids are watching Santa make his way around the world knowing a stop at their house is planned. Last minute trip out for Santa gifts (Skadi declared a need for a train from Santa - apparently THIS is what she has been asking for at each Santa sitting) and stocking stuffers was a success. We will drag kids out of bed and put their stockings in their hands on the plane.

And we will be thankful for what we have and that we are on our way to be with our family.

Tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile...

Last year I delved into Christmas music – what does it for me (John Denver) and what does not (Band-Aid). After ranting to one of my high school turned Facebook friends about Christmas music I thought of another bitty pet peeve of mine.

Certain Christmas shows.

I like the vast majority of Christmas TV including all the classics and even a few of the new ones - Like "Shrek the Halls". “How The Grinch Stole Christmas” and “The Polar Express” tops my list simply because of the message.

Believe.

I can quote The Grinch like no one’s business, but my favorite line is:

“It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes, or bags!”

And I love to shop. I even love to Christmas shop.

But despite someone else’s meanness, the spirit of Christmas remains and will always be strong and present. It’s a notion that I WILL instill in my kids. My kids WILL be 80 years old and still hear the bell ring and not because they are getting senile.

We are Christians and so the core meaning of Christmas to us, is that Jesus was born. And despite the above two movies not being religious centric, it delves at what it means to anyone to hold your beliefs. No one can take them from you and furthermore that the spirit of Christmas resides within us.

My pride swelled the other night after reading "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" to Leif and he said (without prompting) - "it means that Christmas will always come no metter what".

And it is nothing anyone can ever take from you sweet boy.

Now let’s venture over to the dark side.

The shows my children will not be watching:

Mickey Mouse Clubhouse Christmas episode anyone? Or frankly how about any of those kid shows where the kids have to rescue Santa for Christmas to happen. I am fine with all the Dora, Diego, Little Einsteins, etc., shows that on every other day of the year they have missions and puzzles to do to make something happen. Fine. But don’t tread on Christmas. Don’t even IMPLY that Christmas may not come if Santa isn’t rescued. Don’t tell my kids that they have to chose which tool to use to rescue Santa and if it is wrong the entire world will suffer a fate of no Christmas. Or at least don’t do this if you expect me to let my kids watch.

Ok, so as an adult I am taking it to an extreme and embellishing just a little.

You get it, this is what yanks my chain and you have seen the many numbers of exhibits of this on TV.

My kids WILL look back when they are 80 and remember that their mom believed in Santa as the spirit of giving and generosity and they will understand this if I have to pound it into them. Their stockings will always be filled – just like my stockings have always been filled.

“Welcome Christmas while we stand, heart to heart and hand in hand.”

Believe

Earlier in the year Leif came home from school with a question in mind… is Santa real?

Or he phrased it more like, “Isaac said that Santa is just your parents dressed up. Is that true mommy?”

Easy and very truthful response.

“No, neither mommy or daddy dress up like Santa. Aren’t we the ones that take you to see Santa at the mall? How could we dress up and be next to you?”

Ok, so maybe I took his question too literal. So I backpedaled a little.

“Not everyone believes in Santa Claus, but I do and I hope you do too. I truly believe that Santa is the spirit of giving,” I went on honestly.

Leif assured me that he believed in Santa and I dropped it there after half pondering talking to the kids’ teacher (Isaac is an older child in the class) and considering speaking to Isaac’s dad at work just to give him a heads up that his son is spreading fibs – I also pondered keeping Leif in a bubble, but that isn’t terribly feasible and I am sure CPS would be onto me quickly.

The other day after seeing Santa at school Leif came home and had this to say:

“It wasn’t a normal Santa though, something weird was his beard and it wasn’t real hair,” he said.

“What do you think about that?” I asked him probing gently.

“I think it was just someone dressed up to be like Santa,” he said. “And you know what? All the kids in line in front of me asked for pencils, but I asked for the Batman Wii game!”

“Why did all your friends ask for pencils?” I asked him perplexed.

“Well they must have asked for pencils, because it’s what they got,” he said.

“Did Santa give you a Batman Wii game?” I asked.

“No, he just gave me a pencil too,” Leif said.

We went to the mall the other day for a quick trip and noted that there was no line for Santa… and the kids actually looked alright! No huge obvious stains. Leif wasn’t in Christmas themed clothes, but he looked nice enough. Skadi had her Christmas dress on (like she does many days lately), though she had navy blue tights with flowers on – so did not match the Christmas dress – but she had her boots on, so it wasn’t horrid. We jumped quick into the very short line.

As we stood there a grin grew on Leif’s face.

“Mommy, look!” he said. “It’s the NORMAL Santa!”

And both kids beamed after hanging with Santa for a few. He was a good Santa too – more friendly than the prior year’s grump. And he did look, “normal”.

I guess I have a few years left while his measure of the real Santa resides in whether or not there is a fake or real beard.

On being happy

For the first time in my career here at the lab I have had two things happen - I scored the top level on my annual review and I have been thoroughly happy doing what I do daily. It was truly a banner year for me at work. (Wish I could say that about other areas... but, we will take what we can get and continue praying for success in the other.)

My stats:

I racked up over $3M in funding last year.

I have two journal articles in the works, two more scoped for the coming year. (My directorate doesn't tend to publish, so this is big.)

I am working on a dissertation style report with a few "grey beards" at the lab.

And I was selected by both product lines to pilot a new program.

I posted on FB sometime around Thanksgiving that I was thankful that I had a job that after having a week off, I was happy to go back to it. And this isn't a reflection on my time at home with my family!

There are people all over the US without jobs - my best friend in Colorado being one of them. I truly am lucky to have a secure job AND be happy in it.

I tend to do a lot of varied things in my position. I do a fair amount of project management. I have my own projects I am PI (primary investigator) on. And I routinely get tapped for odd jobs - like the report above.

A number of the old timers at the lab are retiring and they carry around a vault of information in their heads. Information that would be horrible to lose. One of the older managers in my directorate got funding to do an info dump out of his and a few of his colleagues heads. He selected me to lead this effort with him, organize it and get it into a form of a report and out the door. It requires a lot of solitude work in a cavernous style computer lab whereby I listen to people talk and take notes, I take things they write, I refine it and compile it in a sensible fashion (or I hope to). Very dissertation style (300 pages plus) save for the fact that it isn't my research, and I don't have to edit it! Instead I have money to pay an editor. It is truly one of the more fascinating things I have done at the lab - and I am learning an absolute ton.

It's things like this that I love. But are also my downfall.

My downfall into why I was not promoted this year despite my stellar review.

It's called a niche. And I don't have one. I have the reputation in my team / group / directorate / building as someone who is versatile. Can work on nearly any project doing a multitude of things. I work as a chemist, a nuclear physicist, an engineer, a manager and a writer. But I can't put my finger on a single thing where I am an expert.

I am a Jane of all trades.

In many environments this is a sought after quality. And though I have not gone without a charge code in the past few years that I have embraced my Jane-ness... this is still something that is not valued for promotion in my group.

I am missing that check box that says I am an expert in a narrow area of science. That I am the lab go to girl for X.5.3.2.1. Instead I have the reputation as someone who is easy to get along with, good to have on a project and gets things done.

While I was hanging out in the cavern the other day an old friend of mine came by to visit. I worked with him on the first project I worked on at the lab when I was a post-doc. He was always a huge advocate for me and took on a mentor role for awhile.

No one else was in the cavern and he immediatly jumped into that area, "so what's up with your career this year, you get promoted?"

I told him no and why and he went on to cite the injustices of the world - or at least those of our management. He cited all the reasons why I was being gyped /abused / neglected, etc.

I finally had to jump in - in an effort to prevent myself from being made feel bad for something I didn't really feel bad about to start with.

"You know J," I told him, "I got an in-grade promotion that basically amounts to two nice raises, I got a great review that my managers read off to me and I am REALLY, REALLY happy doing what I do everyday. I have two kids who need me, I am not a superwoman, I can do my job easily and do it well. I am happy."

As a goat, climbing comes naturally to me. It is hard sometimes to see others zoom past me. But when I step back and look at what makes me happy? My work does. Keeping my team members together and employed, keeping my clients happy, and knowing that I am the go to person not because I am the only one who can do that work, but because the people want ME to do that work.

For the first time in my career, I am really happy.

Mina is back!

That’s right, Mina the elf made his/her return right after Thanksgiving.

I was quite impressed with Leif that he remembered the elf, remembered the routine AND the rules. I purposely hadn’t filled it in his/her name on the line in the book because I wondered if the same elf would return each year, or if the kids would latch onto a new elf being assigned.

When I suggested that it might not be our old elf, Leif latched onto this in a not so great way.

“It’s BOOK!” he cried. “Cate’s elf came to our house instead, I know it! I am going to tell her that her elf came to our house!!”

This had disaster written all over it and AB and I both sensed it simultaneously as we both jumped on the “you know, it looks like the same elf” and AB was busy saying, “I think it is Mina again!” (Thank you AB for remembering the dang elf’s name.)

We then all settled on agreeing that it was in fact Mina visiting us again and reviewed the rules (for the less rules inclined member of the house…) and Mina went about her way observing the kids’ every move and then flying all the way back to the North Pole every night to report to Santa.

There was the one day when Mina played a HUGE trick on the kids and went back to the EXACT SAME SPOT as she had been the morning prior.

And then there was the morning where Mina hid in a really, really hard spot for a 5 year old and he was certain that Mina was spending a little extra time up with Santa reporting how wonderful they had been the day before.

Mina has been helpful to me in more ways than just keeping the kids behaving slightly on the better than bad side. Leif normally comes and complains about every.single.thing that Skadi does that isn’t to his liking. Well lately he just goes and tells Mina so that she can pass it on to Santa. Wheee!

Skadi isn’t so good with the rules yet. One morning Mina was hiding in a particularly hard spot for Leif – like umm, right in front of his face as he went into the bathroom. He had given up finding her and here Skadi came running carrying Mina and squealing, “I FIND MONA! I FIND MONA!”

Yes, she calls her Mona.

Mina (or Mona) is a funny elf and hides in hilarious spots. Like hanging from Daddy’s dinner table chair. There was much concern all through dinner last night that Daddy might accidentally bump Mina and not get any Christmas presents. The kids both determined that there is no way that they want Mina to sit on their chairs as that is too big of a risk.

And then there are the crazy concerns:

Skadi: “What if Mona knocks the chair over? And it makes a loud noise? And she hurts herself? And she no come back?”
Leif: “OR she can’t fly back to tell Santa we were good!”

And the things I hadn’t really thought about:

Leif: “Mina is going to be so lonely when we go to Colorado! She won’t see us and what if she tells Santa we just went away!?”
Me: “Well maybe Mina will come to Colorado.”
Leif: “How will you pack her, you can’t touch her?”
Me: “Well maybe she will leave and fly there the same night.”
Leif: “But what if she can’t find us?”
Me: “We can make sure to tell her exactly where we will be.”
Leif: “How will she know where grandma and Bompa live?”
Me: “I will tell her the address.”

And then there is the just plain cute:

Skadi: “I want Mona hug me.”
Me: “We can’t touch Mina.”
Skadi: “I want a hug her.”
Me: “Well let me talk to her and see if she will accept a hug as nice.”
Skadi: “I love Mona.”

Truly this has become one of the funnest things to do around the holidays. I recommend the Elf on the Shelf – or even just buying a little elf and doing it yourself without the guidance (and commercialism) of the book.

My two readers

So Leif brought home a book the other day from school to practice reading sentences. He hasn't been so into reading to this point - dyslexia may play a role, or just lack of interest. Somehow though his teacher managed to psych him up for "a challenge". She took me to the side and encouraged me to just let him read a page or so at a time as he tires easily when reading.

That first night he sat down and read the book. He was so proud of himself!

And we are so proud of him. I have always been a reader and I just love that a whole new world is opening up to my little boy.

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The flip side is Skadi who is much more like me as a kid with books. Leif enjoys books, but Skadi loves herself a stack of books. And lately she wants to do the reading.

I spent the other evening laughing out loud while she read a book to me. It amazed me how she had every word on the page memorized PLUS! The plus being all the silly things I say on any given page. There is one book "Hug" with only one word in most of the book. Well you have to ad lib there. And then the few pages of "Where the Wild Things Are" that have no words... well you have to add in there too. I had never thought about the fact that the spoken words are associated with the page and not words on the page.

About midway through I stopped giggling and just listening. Apparently my lack of giggles didn't go unnoticed...

Skadi: "why the surly look on your face?"

Me: (surprised) "What?"

Skadi: "why the surly look on your face?"

Me: (Laughter.)

I still have no idea where she heard that, I certainly don't use the word "surly".

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As Skadi was "reading" one of her books there is a snake on a page.

Skadi: "Yikes, a snake!" she recites. "I don't like snakes I step on them".

And I hate to say that she isn't joking.

Over Thanksgiving break she and Leif and I went out for a walk (where I snapped the picture in the new header that I had to change to black and white because Skadi was wearing a purple shirt and Leif a yellow one - but it works black and white).

Skadi was bringing up the rear through the field while Leif and I examined a dead snake. Surely Skadi had to see us there. Right? RIGHT?

NM: "Umm Skadi watch where you are walking!"

Of course she stops dead ON the snake.

Leif: "SKADI! You are stepping on the snake!"

Skadi: (slowly looks down, screams and runs the rest of the way to the park.)

She talked about stepping on a snake for days.

Skadi's new bedroom

She wanted "pink and pink and pink and pink and blue". We compromised with pink and pink and green and green and periwinkle.

AB thought he was going to lose it doing the pink. The addition of the green provided a nice balance though.

He kept asking while painting why we didn't do "tester quarts". Umm because was there going to be ANY pink that was suitable??

Skadi however, loves her princess room.



Once finished she immediately had to get on her Cinderella garb and play.

She CAN be a total sweetheart at times.

This should be proof and I will come back here and remind myself how sweet she can be.

My miniature INS agent and her earrings

The question of the week from Skadi has been “are you American?”

We went to the grocery store where she piped up and asked the checker, “are you American?”

She has repeatedly asked me if I am American and everyone else around her, including her daycare teachers who have assured her repeatedly that they are at least, legal to work in the US.

AB had his mom on the phone and held the phone up to Skadi to say hello. No hello from her, instead my mother in law heard, “I am Skadi Jeanne C-----, an American. Are you American?”

-------

We put up the Christmas tree (or rigged it up as the case was) and decorated it on Sunday.

I no longer have to worry about the kids eating the little metal hooks used to hang ornaments.

Nope, now I only have to worry about my American daughter shoving them through her ears so she can have “beautiful earrings!”

When she failed to succeed (thankfully), and about the same time I realized what she was doing, she handed the object in her hand to me and asked me to put her earring in her ear.

I got my ears pierced when I was five and after I had repeatedly asked for them. I am setting the same goal with Skadi. Two and a half years to go (at least).

My week

Thanksgiving is my week. After about my first year at the lab I started saving my personal holidays to use during Thanksgiving, whereby I could then supplement these two days with 8 hours of vacation time and wa-la... a full week off with minimal expense on my part.

Thanksgiving is my second favorite holiday of the year and one that I really enjoy prepping for. I remember back to 1st or 2nd grade when the neighborhood boys came to get me for sledding one Thanksgiving day and I declined the offer in favor of cooking with my mom.

I enjoy puttering about the house, working on small projects, improving little things, thinking about Christmas presents and prepping for the big meal. Or little meal as the case may be. We always cook more food than we can possibly eat because it is thoroughly impossible to make a traditional Thanksgiving meal for just a few people.

This time around I hadn't taken much time to plan for my week. Many factors playing into this... first the plan to host Thanksgiving for my mom and stepdad and then that not working out. The second is work. I have never been so busy and overwhelmed with work. Third is the kids, they keep me hopping. Fourth is that this year is just moving by so quickly that I am still (despite the fridge full of groceries) having trouble believing that Thanksgiving is really here.

I did think ahead enough when we found out my family wouldn't be visiting to declare it a good time to paint Skadi's room. So we are tackling that. (Pink, green and periwinkle with flowers. The pink is done.)

Aside from that the plans are:
-Make jerky (aka pemmican) with Leif (done and it turned out superbly).
-Clean the fridge (done)
-Dermatologist appt (done and I have the wounds to prove it)
-Cook/bake (will start with cranberry zin sauce tomorrow)
-Entertain children for six days straight.
-Check work e-mail multiple times a day (ongoing)
-Keep checking my phone for signs of work distress (ongoing)
-Empty (and quit paying for) the storage unit (still need to inform AB of this one).
-Christmas shopping started and/or done (good start)
-Photo for the Christmas card (working on tomorrow)
-Abandon town for the snowy hills this weekend for a day of sledding/scouting ski areas/retreating to nature.

You will notice a number of different things on this list from previous years. The work aspect... cannot seem to abandon it all this year. And the Christmas shopping (normally nearly finished by now) and the photo (normally with cards in hand at this point). Also there are fewer projects.

This year there is more simple struggle to stay on top of what is at hand as opposed to undertaking new things.

Skadi McBeaners

Fishies

Every pool of standing water has fishies in it. The sink has fishies. As does the toilet bowl. As does the bathtub.

Fishies, you should know, are any floaty things.

Shreds of toilet paper in the toilet? Fishies.

Strange floaties in the tub? Fishies.

At first it was kind of cute, but now it is bordering on a strange compulsion.

"DON'T FLUSH THE TOILET ANYONE!" she screams. "THERE ARE FISHIES IN THERE!" (And she looks SO serious as she eyes us all directly and points at the bathroom.)

And it is highly traumatic if you ignore her pleadings. So for now we tiptoe around and wait until she is out of earshot to flush the toilet.

"THE FISHIES ARE GOING TO BITE ME!" she screams. "DON'T LET THE FISHIES BITE ME MOMMY!"

And then we fish out every little bit of shmutz out of the tub as she points to each one individually. Specks really.

("Who do you want to ask, the *speck*? There's no one here!")

Not sure where this came from since we just recently went to the aquarium where she saw ACTUAL fish in the water.

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The Witch Costume

Back about mid-September or so I picked out a fabulous (inexpensive) witch costume for Skadi. It was perfect. Purple and pink tulle with stars and I paid a little extra for the matching tights.

Then it arrived and was deemed to be highly offensive.

Would NOT wear it. Would NOT touch it.

She would get a little brave and talk about the witch costume. We would pull it out... and then quickly return it to the hiding place when the screaming hysterics would start.

I gave it up and she wore Leif's bug and tiger costumes on Halloween.

But something happened this morning and not only did she ask to see the witch costume, but she (*gasp*) put it on.

Then she modeled it for pictures.

And wore it to school and proclaimed the entire time that it was Halloween.

Her teacher, Miss Kaitlynn, was the one who broke the news to her that it was no longer Halloween and so right then and there she stripped the costume off and handed it to me to take home.

I got at least one wear out of it!

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Speaking of stripping

I can't keep clothes on this girl.

She comes home and strips down to "nakey bum" status. She and her dolls. No one wears clothes. I have a great picture of Skadi practicing her Mardi Gras greeting at the park the other day.

I thought maybe for awhile this was limited to home, but apparently not. In order to fall asleep Skadi needs to strip herself down to her panties for nap.

I am optimistic that someday the importance of clothes will become apparent.

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Skadi speaks

"her" (Everyone is a her.)

"Papernose" (Kleenex/facial tissue)

"warm legs" (Leg warmers)

"You hurt my feelings." (What it says. This is the standard reply to anything she doesn't want to hear.)

"Weifer" (her brother)

"Not you" (aimed to me most often)

"You are not nice at all." (Again, reply to anything she doesn't want to hear.)

"Chicka maow maow" (??? Frequent statement.)

"Coca" (You are coca. Her name is Coca. My dolly is Coca. Coca is my friend. Etc.)

"GO WAY CAT!" (Ever since Lucky thought Skadi was trying to play with him and batted at her, she no longer trusts him anywhere near her.)

"Freya here." (The chosen animal who should reside next to her at all times. Either chosen or she has learned to keep Freya near to prevent her from chewing on her dollies - who are all named Coca.)

"I share this with Coach Brett, I need a baggie." (Breakfast on Monday morning.)

"Tonia did it!" (4th Branch teacher who is highly coveted for her hair styling skills.)

Back in the saddle in a sense

When I was hired on 7.5 years ago I was told all about the glories of travel.

When I started my team bought me a laptop and an international plugs kit. And I started dreaming about the places I would go with my international plugs kit.

My laptop is a boat anchor somewhere and my international plugs kit is still shrink wrapped.

The team I joined at the time talked real big... but then when it came down to it, the more senior staff got the international trips and got to specify who went along. (And it was never me.) And I got stuck with trips like to DC (a few times) and New Jersey and Bloomington, Indiana and Seattle and Lincoln, Nebraska.

All actually were quite cool with the exception of Lincoln. I was a lone buff awash in a sea of red. I was verbally attacked at lunch as a representative to DOE about my not funding them (I was a junior scientist at the time and completely perplexed). And my host's idea of a good evening was to take me out for Scottish dancing. And I was 3 months pregnant with Leif and still nauseated.

But aside from that trip, all my work trips have been very interesting and good for me. I discovered that I really like Washington DC. I discovered that New Jersey was truly beautiful and that you should always plan to BYOB to dinner as some counties do not serve alcohol in restaurants. Bloomington was a fun little college town and Seattle... I always love going to Seattle. My visit back to Reno was also good in that it grounded me and brought Reno back down to it's proper 4500 foot resting spot instead of remaining high in what once was to me.

I have been lucky that during those periods of time when I don't want to travel, I have easily gotten out of it. Like for the first year and a half to two years after having each child. Skadi is now 2.5 and this stint of no travel is up.

There is something appealing to me about occasional travel. I couldn't do it on a very regular basis. But I like the anonymity of travel. I like escaping to the big cities and eating good food and maybe taking in a show. I even actually enjoy going out to dinner by myself. One time in DC I went to the opera - my only opera - and saw Placido Domingo as lead in Idomeneo. I like the quiet escape of a nice hotel. Of watching whatever I want on TV. Of picking a restaurant without compromise. A quiet serenity.

I don't like leaving my family. I really don't like flying. And I don't like worrying about who will be there if something goes wrong at home.

So, it's good that I don't travel regularly. But every once in awhile? It's a treat.

I am headed back to DC this Sunday. For me it is kind of a neat trip and a first in that I am not representing other people's projects. I am representing my projects.

In taking a tally I have learned that the vast majority of my coworkers under this program will also be going. Not only to the same review, but on the same flight there and in the same hotel and at least one of them is on my same flight back. There will likely be about 10 or 12 of us. And this bums me just a tad because it means I don't get my little bit of anonymity on this trip. And that I may have to compromise on dinner sites. (I was always glad I never had to travel with one coworker on my first project here - his favorite place to eat - every.single.night - was rumored to be Applebees.)

Three nights. I did the good lead scientist thing and contacted another one of my clients to let her know I was going to be visiting the area and she jumped on meeting up. So all in all, I am most excited about day three of my visit where she is taking me to tour around her headquarters and meet her people. Leif hopes I may get to go on a sub. I explained (again) the whole confined space entry thing, but did promise to bring him something back from the Air and Space museum.

Is it just me...

or is foul language making more of an appearance lately?

Actually I know it isn't just me because we had this conversation at book club the other day.

One friend mentioned walking along with her daughter who is practicing her sounding out of words and she notices she is sounding out words in the parking lot. V-a-n and then s-t-op. And then she quickly works to divert her daughters attention when she sees a bumper sticker at eye level with the f-word. See what a prude I am with cursing, I can't even type it on my blog!!

I didn't even scream it when that 8 lb frozen cinder block of a roast fell on my toe the other day.

A coworker a few years back told me that he was in the car with his 8 or so year old daughter who said, "dad, they spelled organs wrong on that bumper sticker!" To his horror it was "orgasm", not organs and all he could do was agree with her that they were silly and had spelled it wrong.

I thought about it today as I was driving home listening to XM radio and was reminded that they are not subject to fcc regulations. Must be better about thinking about what song is on.

Then a few days ago we were out shopping at Costco and the language coming out of the guy behind us in line! I want to say he was oblivious to those around him, but truly, I didn't get the impression he even cared.

Naughty language to Leif and his friends is saying "stupid" or "hate".

And I get busted for "stupid" pretty frequently. Apparently I think a lot of things are stupid.

I am just going to sit and enjoy this stage for a little while...

Reprieve... issued by Daddy

I think it might be something about daddies and their little girls' hair. My mom said that my dad always liked my hair long as a little girl.

I was ready to give Skadi's hair the big chop. A short little bob or something.

Then AB looked at me like I had lost my mind.

And he reminded me how much she loves having the option to do her hair "fancy fancy".

And he mentioned something about the holidays and pictures.

And we compromised at a "good trim".

She lost about an inch.

I think Leif lost about the same despite my asking for a "light trim with longer on the top" and I would have appreciated the front being somewhat straight... but I suppose I can fix that.

To cut or not, that is the question!

I remember my mom's voice so well as she complained about my hair.



"If you don't keep your hair tied back nicely, you will have to cut it off," she would say.



And I would cry.



Because I really, really, really wanted long hair. Short hair would make me look like a boy and I wanted nothing to do with looking like a boy. Ever.



So I would keep my hair pulled back and brushed, until the next time, which was usually just a week at most away. My hair was a long battle with my mom.



Skadi has just recently decided that she doesn't want her hair in "ponies". For awhile there I got away with hauling hair bands into daycare and letting them tackle it since she wouldn't allow me without serious bribery.

(The result of bribery is below... "if you don't let me do your hair, we won't get to go to the pumpkin patch with Cate." I know... I shouldn't threaten anything I am not willing to follow up on, but it works.)





This is contrary to this past year and a half or since she had long enough hair to stick in itty bitty ponies. She loved having her hair done.

And she loved having it done in wacky ways too.



And she has beautiful hair if she would just let me keep it brushed all the time, like this:


But this is a rarity. It is most often coated in some unknown substance (usually yogurt or snot).

And it just looks bad after a day at daycare. Oh who am I kidding, it looks bad after an hour at daycare. Even her school pictures where I braided her hair in French braids, the pictures taken a mere 30 minutes after drop off show a different picture from the neatly groomed little girl I dropped off.

I am thinking the scissors are going to meet the hair this weekend. I am actually taking her in to get it cut and I am angling for a shortish cut. I thought I might have to convince her, but so far she is on the bandwagon to cut her hair.

She even said, "like a boy hair?"

I replied, "no, not that short" envisioning myself at her age and how that would have sent me over the edge.

"Oh," she replied quietly.

"Unless you want it like a boys," I told her reminding myself that boys are wearing their hair longer these days. I let Leif's get pretty long and scraggly between trims and if he didn't inherit AB's AND my fine straight hair, I would let it get longer.

"Ok," she said.

I am taking that as indifference on looking like a boy or not...

Learning in progress

I am certain that as a teenager he won't make a similar mistake.

Leif: (Crawling all over everything in Skadi's daycare room, being highly obnoxious.)

Me: "Leif stop it."

Leif: (Rolling around the floor and taking apart the mats in Skadi's daycare room, being highly obnoxious.)

Me: "Leif, I said stop it. Stand up."

Leif: (Climbing onto a table and standing up. Oh and being highly obnoxious.)

Me: "Get off of that now. The next time I tell you, you are losing your Wii privileges, do you understand?"

Leif: (Sheepishly nods while I talk to another parent.)

Me: "Let's go guys."

Leif: (Walks out of the daycare room and crawls onto a table and jumps off.)

Me: "That's it, you are done. No Wii privileges."

Leif: "But mom! I didn't hear you! I was ignoring you and plugging my ears to you while you were saying no Wii privileges earlier!"

This is Halloween

We are holding our first Halloween party this year!

I expect it will be very different from every other get together we host. I am expecting the same people that usually come over and who we celebrate with. Maybe a few new ones (apparently they like to RSVP at the last minute?).

One main difference is that *I* am dressing up. Yes me. And AB too. I waffled on this. Waffled a lot. I thought about being a witch - easy enough and a black dress is always flattering. Then Leif started selecting costumes for me (Boba Fett anyone?). AB got in the mix too (Slave Princess Leia... thanks for at least the vote of confidence honey). Skadi, sigh, which makes me a touch guilty, thinks I should be a purple witch.


What it finally came down to is that some wee little part of me has always loved Princess Leia. Leif loves Princess Leia. My husband likes her too. I was never Princess Leia as a little girl... nope, I was Gene Simmons instead.

And then I got to thinking that this may be my one and only chance to go as something that matches my son (who is Captain Rex the Clone Trooper). And Leif is digging that thought big time. Leif match mommy? What a great idea! He picked out the Ventress costume for me, but I had fear about pulling it off. We settled on Princess Leia.

AB soon jumped on board and ordered a Jedi robe. And Skadi will likely be a bug. (The witch costume has been nixed and should never return to her sight.)

Our party will have a number of firsts... AB and I in costume. My dad is visiting. And then there is the food.

Yep, you see right. Mummy hot dogs. Hot dogs wrapped in Pillsbury crescent roll strips. Not exactly the fare you might expect to eat upon showing up at my house!

Add to the list cocktail dog spiders (also using Pillsbury crescent roll strips). Witches purses (ok, those will be yummy, though not terribly gourmet). Chicken wings. Sandies that look like witches. (Yes I totally could make sugar cookies... or not - hey take a look at my schedule between now and the party!)

You get the idea. Things that kids will not only eat, but find cool. (Hopefully.)

I guess my reason in posting this is almost a sort of warning to the friends who are attending... don't expect fancy! An apology to the parents for all the mass produced, but very fun, stuff that their kids will eat. And a declaration to the effect of let's just all have fun and forget about calories, high fructose corn syrup, etc. And I should also say that even though my son knows all the words to, and will ask repeatedly for "This is Halloween"... he has not seen "The Nightmare before Christmas". Though it is my favorite Halloween movie and I have been so tempted.



What you get in return? A night with friends. Worn out kids at the end of the night.

And maybe most importantly, one more wear of that Halloween costume!

Have a Happy Halloween!

The purge urge

I don't think I am a packrat. Or I tell myself I am not.

My grandmother, she is a packrat.

My mom is not.

I think I fall somewhere in between the two. I keep a big plastic bin in each of the kids' closet and I put special things in there. Their class pictures, copies of their school pictures, milestone momentos (first name printed for the first time, first shoes, going home outfits...). I toss things in on a not terribly regular basis.

The other day my husband commented that we needed more book shelves. We kind of do. But his idea is to LINE the office.

Umm what? So that all our creased back, mass market books are on exhibit to everyone?

I like having SOME books out. I have a good sized stack that is unread, I want those out. We have a few hardbacks that are nice to display. I have a few that mean something to me (like Hans Blix's book with a nice sentiment to me and his autograph in the front). My favorite books are up there and so are AB's.

But every single book I have ever read? Please don't make me put them out. I could use more bookshelfs for stuff... not books. Not to mention that I want to impart some sense of style into our home and lining one wall with cheap bookshelfs is not my way to achieve that. Sorry honey.

We have been hauling boxes from storage and unpacking them.

You might guess that a recent load was boxes upon boxes of books. I actually started making a stack of books to get rid of through either exchange at the used book store or donating to Goodwill.

It hasn't stopped there.

I wore a pair of shoes to work the other day that I have owned for about a year. They are cute, but kill my feet. I avoid wearing them because they hurt. This has prompted me to put a box in my closet and to start putting stuff in the box for Goodwill.

AB came home the other day with tales of a coworkers highly successful garage sale. That might work too.

The next goal is to put a box in every room of the house, particularly as I unpack boxes. Stuff that doesn't work, we don't like, doesn't have a function? Goes in the box. Those lamps with no lampshades? In the box. Ancient camera equipment? Box. Books that were bad the first time around? See that box over there?

Then the boxes, once full. (Or mostly full.) They will go away in search of new homes.

The professor pedestal

I can never remember what I have and haven't blogged about. I did a quick search and it doesn't appear that I hit on this topic... and it should have been fairly recent.

A few months ago or so I was walking down the hall at work when smack in front of me was a face from a different time and place. I stopped her.

"Are you Mary Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah?" I asked her (she has one of those many syllabic last names that I finally mastered after months of practice).

She looks at me blankly in her very mousey all too familiar way and says yes.

"I was in your Inorganic Chemistry class at CU back about 1993 to 1994," I told her.

"Wow," she replied, "that was a long time ago."

"Yes," I said trying not to say something snarky about making me feel old, "I am sure you don't remember me, it has been awhile."

She admitted that she didn't remind me and then asked what I was doing here. I told her I went on from CU (after she gave me a sucky grade in Inorganic Chemistry) to get my Ph.D. in physical chemistry and then came here for a post-doc and was hired on permanently. She asked me what I did here and I did my best to impress her. Then I asked her what she did - "oh, I am a contractor, just trying to get hired on permanently".

You know how your college professors are up on a type of pedestal? How you admired them from afar... ok, I went to a college where classes of 250-500 people weren't terribly uncommon. They stood up there all knowledgeable and experienced-like and you couldn't help but put them on a pedestal. Even the bad ones.

Or in Mary's case... the really, really bad ones.

Our Inorganic class for majors was six students taught by mousey Mary Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah and much complained about by myself and the five other students. It was an optional class for majors and wow did it suck. Wow.

We learned how to make slime.

I learned how volatile ether is while working in a hood with another girl. She was using a flame and I was using ether. And the entire hood flashed. (Our TA should have known better.)

I remember my final project was to synthesize something and one of my final characterization steps was Phosphorus NMR. Mary Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah asked me why in the world I would use P-NMR to see if my substance had formed. I remember looking at her wondering if this was a joke? "Umm, because if my substance goes from signal to no signal than I will have functionalized the protons next to the P," I remember saying. And she seemed surprised and said, "yes, that would work!"

Of course she had to run it for me because I didn't have access to a P-NMR as a student. She... ahem... was supposed to run it for me.

Still I held my professor up on a pedestal until recently.

That pedestal? Crumbled.

It cracked when she told me she was trying to get hired on permanently. Then it collapsed under its own weight when she started asking me for work.

And I remembered her as a professor. And I remembered how she never ran my sample from my final project. And I remembered how she gave two B's and four C's out to her class of six senior chemistry majors. (I didn't get a B.)

And work?

Really sorry Mary Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah. I am funding myself and I am able to keep my project teams funded through continuing resolution this year, which is a first EVER. (Anyone notice I haven't whined about continuing res this year??) But no, I will not be picking you up on my projects.

And maybe I derive just a wee bit of pleasure from this.

Skadi update

One of the hardest times with many kids is that Terrible Two’s stage. Leif would be the exception to that, the two’s was a fabulous time with him. He just hit the “terrible” time later than normal… he hit the “Terrible Threes”.

We are officially half way through Skadi’s Terrible Twos. She can be terribly trying sometimes. But the flipside to this is that for all the rotten-ness, there is the complete opposite to balance it out i.e., the incredible joy and amazement she brings. Not to mention the giggles.

A Potato?

One of Skadi’s favorite things to do is to style my hair. Of course she usually likes to redo it after I just get done styling it. On those days she asks to do my hair when I am not expected to show up somewhere looking halfway decent I let her at it.

This is a genetic trait… I remember styling my mom’s hair most evenings while sitting in front of the TV. My sister and I would argue over who got to sit behind her on the couch with a brush and rubber bands and barrettes in hand. Hopefully the whole spitting in the hair part (since my mom wouldn’t allow us to use water) is not genetic and Skadi will not read this until she is old enough to know better.

She is a little brutal with the brush. It tends to make a “whack” sound as it connects with my head at the roots. I spend a lot of time saying, “ouch, gentle please!” Oh and should you think that AB escapes this torture because I had very little hair… think again.

Skadi: “Would you like a high pony so you can dance?”

Me: (A high pony tail is a requirement for dancing?) “Umm, ok.”

Skadi: (Pulling my hair all over the place.) “Oh, you have a potato in your hair.”

Me: “A potato?? Is that what you said?”

Skadi: “Yes, you have a potato in your hair.” (She says this so matter of factly.)

Me: “Where Skadi?”

Skadi: (Major pinch to the ear.) “Here.”

Me: “That’s my EAR!”

Skadi: (Giggles.) “Oh, okay!”

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Miss Opinionated

Skadi: “Mommy, I no yike this song!”

Me: (Ok, that’s fine, so Angel Eyes is a touch slow and isn’t her style, I hit to skip song button.)

Skadi: “Mommy, I no yike this song either!”

Me: “What, you don’t like John Hiatt?”

Skadi: “I no yike John Hiatt mommy.”

Me: “Ok.” (Searching the car for anything but that one cd that has been in the cd player nonstop
for a few years because the kids like it. Ah ha! Queen! I pop that in.)

Skadi: “Mommy, I no yike this icky song.”

Me: “Skadi, EVERYONE likes ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’.”

Skadi: “I NO YIKE IT MOMMY!”

Me: “Fine.” (I hit the XM Radio button.)

Skadi: “Mommy! I YIKE this song! Crocodiles!”

Me: “Noted, you DO like Elton John’s Crocodile Rock.”

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Uses for boxes

While I am on the Skadi topic I should note that a few weeks ago? Found the binkies. Three of them, stuck in a box in Leif’s closet. You may remember that she had thrown them away herself… or at least I could have sworn she did. Apparently she threw one away and put the others in safe keeping? They hit the trash before she could see them.

Oh and speaking of boxes…

Me: “Skadi do you want Tinkerbell panties?”

Skadi: (Playing and ignoring me.)

Me: “Ok, here’s your Tinkerbell panties, please get dressed now.” (Freaky thing that Skadi and Leif are about at the same ability and willingness to get themselves dressed. Oh wait… wrong. Leif still insists regularly that I dress him, not that it happens. Skadi refuses help.)

Skadi: “NO MOMMY!” (Picking up Tinkerbell panties.) “I NO WANT TINKERBELL PANTIES!”
And with that she walks to her closet, pulls out a shoe box, opens it up and puts the panties in the shoebox and puts the shoebox in the hallway and walks back in her room and resumes playing.

Me: “Ok then, I guess YOU get to pick out your panties.”

The makings of an entrepreneur?

Me: "Leif, you still have money left over from Seattle, we should decide what you are going to do with it. Is there anything you still want?" (Fully expecting him to cite the coveted Batman Lego Wii game.)

Leif: (Thinking for a minute.) "Actually I think I want to buy another piggy bank."

Me: "Another piggy bank? Why, don't you like yours?"

Leif: "I want another piggy bank so I can get more money! I saved enough money for the trip to Seattle, if I have two piggy banks I can save enough money to go to Australia!"

Skadi speak - pronouns

I am raising a feminist.

Everything Skadi refers to is a "her". Her dolls are naturally "her". The dogs are (rightfully) "hers". The cat (wrongfully) is a "her".

Even Leif is a "her". Any unknown person is a "her" as well.

Taking it to another level...

If there is a couple on TV, like say Giselle (the princess) and Edward ("that guy") on Enchanted - it is "that's her daddy". Princesses looking for true love? They are looking for "hers daddy" and it is very disturbing in this path to finding their true loves, I mean "her daddy" because Skadi will lament (with her hands open and face up), "hers can't find her daddy!"

I think I need to ask her about AB and I...

A chilly weekend

It was the perfect weekend to stay in and get stuff done. And that was exactly what we did!

After being gone last week there was a ton of laundry to do, lots of Ikea goodies to assemble and set up somewhere and lots of food to catch up on preparing.

There isn't much need, in this day and age, to "put up food for the winter". But it seems to be a fall ritual that AB and I have fallen into. Every fall we make buckets of spaghetti sauce. The goal is to get about 50 cups prepared and frozen, which gives us about enough for a dinner use every other week. There are a ton of varieties of spaghetti sauce out there, some very inexpensive. So some people probably wonder why we would spend a weekend making spaghetti sauce?

Because it tastes so much better. And I know exactly what I put in it.

Green chili isn't so easy to find. But AB started making green chili every fall long before we even lived together. In fact, I remember his first batch when he lived in Spanish Towers in Boulder with his roommate. It was so freakin' hot.

And I think it gets hotter every year. And every year he swears to control it. And every year I sweat through it. And many unsuspecting green chili tasters have come to despise AB at his annual chili cook off at work.

This weekend was no exception. He swore he was going to make a "medium" and a "hot" version. There was nothing "medium" about the chili that resulted this evening.

I made a big pot of red chili on Saturday night. Mine isn't nearly so involved since this is one staple I make that is based off of cans.

Still on our list for this fall is our second batch of spaghetti sauce, pumpkin breads and chicken pot pies. Nectarine pies have been done, 20 cups of spaghetti sauce complete, a few GALLONS of green chili and a couple dinner servings of red chili.

This weekend has been one of my most productive weekends in a long time. I told AB that I look forward to being moved in and settled so that I don't feel as though I have to work on that every weekend. But he asked me if that would ever happen. Would I ever feel as though my house was decorated and each room complete?

Maybe, but I don't envision it happening terribly soon.

I jumped off course on my monthly tasks to address each room. September was to be the garage. And it has been, and still is. And because the garage isn't terribly fun, I haven't been a rallying force behind AB on this one.

I also had planned to paint Skadi's room. And I really would like to pick out colors in the next week and then maybe tackle that either next weekend or the weekend after that. Skadi is excited for it, she asks for her walls to be painted "pink, pink, pink, pink and blue" (the ceiling is the blue one). The time has just been short though. Still I would like to get to this sooner rather than later as things start amassing in her room.

This morning Leif (since he had lost Wii privileges) spent a good portion of the morning helping me put together our new dining room table. He is getting to that age where he can be a real help. And he even seemes to enjoy it. It took us about an hour and AB's assistance at one point to lift the table tops and flip the table over, but we did it.

The table came from Ikea and addresses me "need" for a table where I can seat more than 4 people. You never know what you are going to get from Ikea. Some stuff is super and some is utter crap. Must to my amazement, the table (despite not being my first choice in stain) is super. AB even likes it and I admitted that ignoring the price, it is probably nearly exactly what I would have aimed to buy had I had 5x this much to spend.

"No tablecloths," AB said. "I like the wood. I want one of those runner things too before you put anything in the middle, I don't want it getting scratched up."

Fully extended it would have to sit diagonal in our dining room. With the leaves it seats "10 people", though I suspect it is more like 12-14. I also bought a bench to go on one side instead of chairs. In fact, I haven't purchased chairs yet because for now I can seat 4 on the bench if need be (ok, four kids or four of my friends with skinny butts), three of anyone else. Then I can walk the four dining room chairs from the other table over. The matching Ikea chairs weren't terribly comfortable and emitted an air of cheapness that the table did not. I hope to buy some chairs that might dress it up a little and blend the style of the table with the rest of the furniture in the front two rooms.

Piles of laundrey done, table put together, a few boxes unpacked, Skadi's room organized and summer clothes put away, food made... it was an eventful weekend!

Walked right into that one

In the car on the way home Leif said something funny.

Me: "I sure am lucky that God gave me you instead of some other kid who isn't nearly so funny!"

Leif: (Silent for a little while.) "God gave me to you?"

Me: "Yes, I believe you were picked just for daddy and me."

Leif: "God put me in your belly? How did God put me in your belly?"

Me: "Umm, well" (Stammering and deciding to ignore the later question.) "Yes and no."

Leif: "Then you lied?"

Me: "No, I didn't lie. I believe that God picked you to be in my belly and to be my little boy."

Leif: "Oh ok. I don't remember being with God. How long was I with God?"

Me: "I don't know." (Wow, this is tough.)

Leif: "Where was I hanging out with God? In the sky?"

Me: "In God's kingdom."

Leif: "So I went from God's kingdom, then he decides I move from his kingdom to your belly and then I come out at the hospital?"

Me: "Umm, yep, I think so."

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Me: "I had the weirdest conversation with Leif today."

AB: "What was it?"

Me: (Repeat the above first two lines.)

AB: "You walked right into that one and I cannot help you at all!!"

One of the many reasons I love my son

Leif woke up this morning and there was some change in his bed. I am sure it fell out of AB’s pocket the night before when he read stories. Leif was not so convinced.

Leif: “MOMMY! The tooth fairy came!!”

Me: “What?” (It was still early.)

Leif: “The tooth fairy came, see!” (He holds up the 42 cents he found in his bed.)

Me: “No, I don’t think so. You didn’t lose any teeth yet, I bet it fell out of daddy's pocket last night when he read to you.”

Leif: “Check mom! Look in my mouth and see if I lost any teeth last night!”

Me: “Nope, I don’t see any missing.”

Leif: “Oh, I bet she just decided to check in and prepare me.”

Me: “That’s probably it.”

A Conversation with a Seattle Starbucks Barista

Me: "I would like two kids chocolate milks with ice and whip."

Barista: "Do you want a flavor in those?"

Me: "A flavor?" (Thinking this is unique, I have never been asked about a flavor on chocolate milks before... would Leif drink a raspberry chocolate milk?)

Barista: (Looking at me like I am an idiot.) "Yes, a flavor, do you want a flavor in those."

Me: "Nope, just chocolate milks please."

Barista: "Then yes, you do want a flavor." (Rolls her eyes.)

Me: "You mean chocolate counts as a flavor in chocolate milk?"

Barista: "Yes, it does. Otherwise it would just be milk." (She says as she picks up two hot cups.)

Me: "Chocolate milks please, not hot cocoa."

Barista: (Doesn't pay attention.)

AB: "Why is she starting hot drinks?"

Me: (Shrugs.) "I have no idea."

Barista: (Rings up hot cocoas.)

Me: "If you are going to make those hot, would you make them 100 degrees please."

Barista: "Since it is a kids' drink we don't make them as hot."

Me: "I know that. I order a few a week during the winter, which is why I also know that my kids will whine if they aren't 100 degrees since you never listened to me the first time around when I said CHOCOLATE MILK WITH ICE!"

Barista: (Picks up the cups and writes a HUGE 100F on them and slams them to the counter. HUGE eye roll) "Anything else ma'am?"

Me: "A grande non-fat pumpkin spice please, two oatmeals with brown sugar only, a pumpkin loaf and a brewed coffee."

Any surprise that my latte was super heated, my oatmeals had everything BUT brown sugar? Of course how can you get back at me with pumpkin loaf and brewed coffee? Those were the only things I ordered that came as ordered.

I am a HUGE Starbucks fan. You kind of have to be in Washington state and especially given that we have a number of spots, even in our smallish town, where there are Starbucks in stores and freestanding on the same blocks. My kids know Starbucks and learned about Starbucks long before they ever learned about McDonalds.

Don't act like *I* am the stupid tourist who has no idea what I am ordering.

(Stepping off pedestal now.)

Or maybe this is my favorite...

This one was a complete accident. But so very perfect. Now I will go to bed.

My favorite

I didn't get a ton of great pictures this weekend. And so many of Leif have him with the cheese grin. But I did get this one and it's my favorite from the entire weekend I think. More later, but just this one for now because I am tired.