Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Happy Thanksgiving

Here are some holiday messages from the employees at The HomeFront Corp. Please ignore the fact that a) I sound like a man. I am, in fact, a woman, but bronchitis is cruel, and b) I have an alarmingly cackle-y laugh.

Other than that, Happy Thanksgiving, my friends.
May your hearts be as full as your bellies.


Fast from bitterness - feast on forgiveness.
Fast from self-concern - feast on compassion for others.
Fast from personal anxiety - feast on eternal truth.
Fast from anger - feast on patience.
Fast from words that destroy - feast on words that build up.
Fast from discontent - feast on gratitude.
Fast from discouragement - feast on hope.

Susan Tassone

Way Back When-esday Works For Me

I don't know the proper protocol for combining two popular Wednesday blog carnivals into one post.

Maybe it's the bloggy equivalent of "crossing the streams" and the entire internet as we know it will collapse. (Quick! Name that movie before you Google it!)

But I'm willing to risk it, because I'm daring like that.


I'm actually willing to risk it because I have muchas prep work to do around here, and I may not be back here any time soon. On the bright side, I have many bickering children to punish with menial labor.

I'll start with Way Back When-esday: The Thanksgiving Edition.

Who: Francie, age 2

When: Thanksgiving, 2001

This was taken in the living room of our little Marine Corps base house down in North Carolina. Although Rob could stand in the kitchen, stretch out his arms and touch both walls, we had some great, packed house Thanksgiving celebrations there. Those are the best kind.

Plus, I love the crazy gleam in Francie's eyes. She still has it, and I hope she always will.

Who: Fiver, age 4

When: Thanksgiving, 2006

This is classic Fiver. He was so proud of the Native American head-dress he made in pre-school, so we took his picture. We asked him to stand up and give us a nice smile, and voila!, we got a cross between Mr. Magoo and Shaggy after too many "scooby snacks."

He's a natural-born eye-closer during pictures. There's one in every crowd.

For more Way back When-esday fun, jump over to Twinfatuation and tell Cheryl I sent you.

Switching gears to the other half of today's post, I'm headed over to Shannon's for Works for me Wednesday.

I don't do many WFMW, mostly because I feel like I don't have too many good secret tips to share. Most of my tips would seriously underwhelm you, I'm sure.

But today, I've got a good one, and if you've done this before, maybe you can leave your thoughts about its effectiveness in the comments.

As you may have heard, we've been coughing our heads off around here, so my mom passed this little tip on to me via my aunt:

If you have a cough that is keeping you up at night, take some Vicks VapoRub and apply it liberally to the soles of your feet.

Yes, you read that correctly. The soles of your feet.

After you slather it on your feet, put on some socks and head to bed. You will not cough and you will be able to sleep.

I am so not kidding. I was skeptical, but I did it to myself last night, and IT WORKS. I did not cough for most of the night (The magic VapoRub seemed to wear off close to dawn.)

I'm not sure of the mechanics, but ancient medicine has long promoted the feet as conduits for healing. I ran my plan by Rob, and he said "Oh yeah. A lot of the ladies at the office swear by this. They say it really works." He's just full of little secrets like that.

All I know is that it worked for me, and I'm doing it again tonight. And I'll be giving Fiver's feet a rubdown as well, because he's got a cough that'll wake up the next town.

And now, I'm off violate my strict no-ironing policy by ironing some table linens for tomorrow. My mother will be so proud.

PS: Just wanted to share one more tidbit in the continuing saga of The HomeFront Thanksgiving of Peril. I was working in the kitchen, and Bun was crawling around after me doing his usual happy babbling. He pulled himself up on the dishwasher, played with the buttons, got bored and crawled away -- no big deal, he does it every day.

But when I turned around, all I saw were bloody baby hand prints all over the dishwasher and the kitchen floor! WTH?!?

I scooped Bun up and turned his hands over to find that he has a little slice, sort of like a deep paper cut, at the base of one of his fingers, and it was bleeding all over. I cleaned him up and slapped a bandage on him, and of course he hates it with the intensity of a thousand white-hot suns.

Not a big deal in the course of things, but I'll tell you what, bloody baby hand prints on a white dishwasher are a heart-stopper, my friends.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Gratituesday: The Double Sickening



I have succumbed to, what my husband tells me, is called The Double Sickening.

Sounds ominous, no?

Basically, what I thought was yesterday's return to good health was all a sham because I have bronchitis.

Rob says that it can often go that way: you get a little sinus/head cold thing, and you start to feel better and you're thinking everything's groovy. Then the really nasty germs come back around like a boomerang to knock you on your keister, and before you know it, you're in the grip of The Double Sickening. duhn-duhn-DUHN!

So instead of boring you all with Day 307 on Emergency Ward 9, I will tell you those things for which I am very grateful:
  • Rob: We have our own family doctor, but sometimes it really comes in handy to consult him at three in the morning. Plus, he is very patient with my occasionally belligerent attitude towards taking lots of medicine. I am going to be a constant joy to him when we are old and in a home.
  • Antibiotics: Can I get an amen for the antibiotics? And can you throw in another one for albuterol inhalers? They make my lungs happy. And while I'm at it, thank the Lord that I live in an age (and a country) where it is possible for me to even have these medications.
  • Family: They are doing the lion's share of the work for the big feast.
  • Self-cleaning ovens: 'nuff said. Now they need to work on self-cleaning toilets.
  • My boy: Fiver is still sick, but he came to me today and told me that when he is big like his Dad, he will take care of me. And he will take me out and buy me a new red car. That's a deal, buddy.

Check out the rest of the grateful folk over at Catholic Teacher Musings.

This Should Come As No Surprise









You Are Apple Pie




You're the perfect combo of comforting and traditional.

You prefer things the way you've always known them.

You'll admit that you're old fashioned, and you don't see anything wrong with that.

Your tastes and preferences are classic. And classic never goes out of style.



Those who like you crave security.

People can rely on you to be true to yourself - and true to them.

You're loyal, trustworthy, and comfortable in your own skin.

And because of these qualities, you've definitely earned a lot of respect.


Monday, November 24, 2008

Raise the Yellow Flag


Well, another one bites the dust.

Fiver woke up last night with fever, chills, and a cough that surpasses coughing and is well nigh onto barking. His temp comes down to 100-101 with ibuprofen, and when he is not napping, he is stumbling around the house, wearing the Glassy Stare of Contagion. This kid hasn't napped since 2005, that's how I know he's sick.

He is under strict orders to breathe on no one and touch nothing. We'll see how that goes.

I, on the other hand, was feeling much better this morning, so thank you for the well wishes. I still have the congestion, but the aches and fever are gone. I got that sudden burst of post-illness energy and used it to scrub the kitchen, so at least that's clean.

I think I have enough of my energy burst left to clean out my kitchen drawers.

What? We all know how integral those drawers are to a successful Thanksgiving Dinner.

Right?




Poor, sad little sick boy


Sunday, November 23, 2008

Turkey? Check. Cranberry Sauce? Yep. The Plague? Got it.

I am sick, my friends, and at a very inconvenient time, I might point out.

The kids have been passing around different versions of the same cold for a few weeks, but this is something different. This might be some kind of plague.

I have fevers, chills, the shakes, weird sinus pain and pressure, and body aches. I have been in bed for most of the weekend, and I am hoping to kick this bug before I have to gear up with the big Turkey Day prep.

Or else my guests will be mighty surprised to find a Make Your Own Thanksgiving Dinner when they get here.

I'm off to take a combination of over the counter drugs that will hopefully help me get rid of this virus. Or at least just knock me out. That's good too.

See you once my immune system kicks in, my friends.

Friday, November 21, 2008

7 Quick Takes Friday

Last week, I was too scattered to add my quick takes to the list over at Conversion Diary. That seems to be a pattern around here lately.

But I'm here now, so let's try this again, shall we?





--1--
I don't understand why my children keep taking my office supplies. Every time I need to grab a pencil or a pair of scissors from my desk, they are gone. And I can just forget about the Scotch tape. I haven't seen an intact roll of Scotch tape laying untouched on my desk since 2000.

These children are not deprived; they have their own scissors and tape and pencils. In fact, they get pencils for just about every dadgummed holiday celebration/birthday party they have at school. Right now, I am looking at no less than ten - TEN - Halloween pencils in my desk drawer.

Apparently, they are purely aesthetic.

And another thing? On the off chance that they actually remember to return my things to my desk, they always put the scissors and pencils in the cup point side up. My desk is totally booby-trapped.




--2--
I should put my retirement fund money into Mr. Clean Magic Erasers, because I am keeping the company in the black these days. It took two of them to get the green marker off my bedroom door. And there is still a faint green tinge when you look at it in a certain light. It's like I'm sleeping in the Emerald City, even though it feels like I'm in Munchkinland on most days.

You will be happy to know, however, that the marker was not a Sharpie. I dodged a huge bullet on that one.




--3--
I don't know if you've heard, but there is this holiday called Thanksgiving coming up. In less than a week. Now would probably be a good time to get myself a turkey, since I am hosting the dinner and all.




--4--
My hair salon freaks me out a little bit.
I go there because my stylist, who used to run her own little place, moved there. And she doesn't charge me as much since I am a long time client.

It's one of those big, fancy salons in the city near us, and I feel so out of place when I go. There is thumping techno-music, "avant-garde" canvases covered in glitter on the wall, professional stage lighting, men wearing more eyeliner than me, people drinking cocktails, women older than my mother wearing skinny jeans with knee high motorcycle boots, lots of DRAH-ma, and lots of dogs. Dogs that are treated like children.

I have nothing against dogs, but I am not used to seeing them all over a hair salon. The owners of the salon have set up a giant gated play area for their two dogs in the center of the salon, and clients are encouraged to bring their own pups for a playdate.

Also? There is a frosted glass door at the back of the salon that is the entrance to the spa. When any of the clients or employees want to enter the spa, they have to do what seems like a secret knock and then they open the door about 1.75 inches and slip their way in without fully exposing the inner sanctum to the rest of the rabble waiting for their color to process. I guess that's why none of the employees are larger than a size 2.


--5--
I think I've become over-sensitive in some ways to Fiver's school situation. I find myself having a hard time lately distinguishing between reactions of justified concern and stark raving lunacy. I can't tell if I'm overreacting, under-reacting, or reacting just right. I'm like the Goldilocks of reactions and I'm starting to get a little batty.


--6--
I finally got Bun in for his nine month check-up, now that he's in the waning days of his ninth month. Apparently, Bun is short for Paul BUN-yan because this child is a big'un. His weight has actually tapered off a bit now that he's crawling and climbing all over; he only weighs 22 pounds. But he is 31 inches tall! He wears 18 month sized clothing. Maybe a blue ox is in order for Christmas.


--7--
While perusing a highly reputable entertainment news outlet (*ahem* "People" *ahem*), I saw a celebrity couple named their new baby boy Bronx Mowgli.
Really? Bronx Mowgli? I mean, I'm not trying to judge here, but what's up with that name? It's great if you are going to be a drummer in a rock band or a boy orphaned deep in the Indian jungle, but what if he wants to be a CPA or something? Hmm.
******************************************************************
Now I must go and start my Thanksgiving planning or we'll be ordering pizza on the big day. Have a good weekend, my friends!

Thursday, November 20, 2008

A Cautionary Tale



Just a note to any of you who may live in a home with toddlers:


If you have just laid the baby down for a nap, and you are enjoying hot coffee and reading blogs on a cold, dreary November morning, always remember that silence + 2 year old = BAD MOJO.

DO NOT assume that just because you have a very mature toddler, who previously has shown little to no interest in markers pilfered from her sister's room, you are safe from Compulsive Toddler Scribbling Syndrome (CTSS).

CTSS can be very destructive, and it's primary symptom is an eerie quiet that blankets the area where a toddler is supposedly watching an educational video. If you ever experience prolonged periods of silence from a 2 year old who is not asleep, do not delay checking upon the child.

You will be glad that you did.

(Not shown are the emerald green lips, hands, and shirt of the latest casualty of an outbreak of CTSS. That'll learn me to brag about laundry right quick!)

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

You May Want to Alert Your Local Media

No time to write tonight. (insert sigh of reader's relief?)

Rob's gone. Again. Another baby's coming. People were busy in February, that's for sure.

I just wanted to let you all know that as of tonight I am completely caught up on the laundry.

A Thanksgiving miracle.

That is all. Carry on.

***Edited to add: As Cheryl pointed out in the comments, it might be easy to read the post above and think that I was announcing another blessed event for The HomeFront. I have to be the MythBuster on this one and say that it's not true. Rob was out delivering someone else's baby. I did say "people were busy in February," but the only thing Rob and I were busy with last February was a newborn Bun!

Way Back When-esday: I'll Have A Blue Christmas

Francie and Fiver, ages 5 & 2, early December 2004


Sometimes, when I look at a picture I haven't seen in a while, every specific feeling and memory of that time comes flooding back over me, and yet I am still able to marvel at the fact that so much time has passed. It doesn't happen with every picture, but it sure does with this one.

This was the year that Rob was called up with the Navy reserves. The year of Christmas (and every other holiday) without Daddy. The year that I hit the skip button every time I'll Be Home For Christmas came on, just so I wouldn't dwell.

It was the day before Thanksgiving 2004, and Rob got a call from the Navy reserve center. I could overhear him as I did prep work for the next day, and when he started asking questions like how long? and will I need any extra vaccinations? and when do I leave? . . . well, some things you don't really need to be told.

The reserve center, which didn't know that this was the first that Rob was hearing the news, said that he would be gone by December 15th. We had two weeks to make a family Christmas, and I hadn't even started shopping yet.

We did everything at an accelerated rate: we bought the first tree we found, we threw the decorations on it, I bought every gift we needed in a one day shopping marathon, we exchanged gifts. All while getting our paperwork in order, packing Rob's bags, making lists of anything in the house that Rob had been putting off doing . . . whatever he could squeeze in, he did.

And then, he left. And Christmas morning came without him, like it does for thousands of families who have loved ones in the military. We had fun, but there was always that gap in the table to remind us.

It's hard to believe that this was so long ago. In fact, it's been a lifetime ago. Two lifetimes, to be exact, Sally's and Bun's. Francie and I have some shared memories that we will pull out every now and then, but Fiver has no recollection at all. A tender mercy, that.

And so at this time of year, we like to remind ourselves how different one year was for our family. And exactly how thankful we are now.

For more Way back When-esday fun, visit Cheryl at Twinfatuation!

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

A, B, C's of Thanks


Laura, the ever enterprising maven behind Catholic Teacher Musings, is hosting her inaugural Gratituesday. She has done it up alphabetically and invited her readers to do the same.
I've got about two hours left in my Tuesday, so here are a few things that I feel grateful for today:
Apples with caramel dip
Bun, and babies safely born
Clothes warm from the dryer
Dimetapp for coughs and colds
Exercise in the comfort of my warm house
Francie and Fiver
Granola fresh from the oven
Home cooked meals
Ibuprofen for infants -- and mommies.
Jelly and toast
Kisses from Rob
Laptop
My Big Redneck Wedding. This show is flat out hilarious.
Naps
Oranges, freshly peeled
Pumpkin muffins
Quiet house. Knock wood.
Robe to keep me cozy
Sally
Trust
Understanding
Visits with friends
Wireless internet to go with my laptop
Xpress checkout at the supermarket
Yawning
Zzzzz . . .
And there are about four hundred more answers for each letter, but my scant three hours of sleep last night are catching up with me.
Must . . . stop . . . blogging . . .
'Night, my friends.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Midnight Rambler

Don't tell Rob, but I am missing his laptop.

And no, that's not some kind of weird euphemism. I really am talking about a computer.

When Rob got his laptop for work, I was very pish-tosh about the whole thing. I'm a little proud of being a borderline Luddite (maybe this is the real root of my lack of affection for Twitter and her cohorts).

I resisted having our tiny television upstairs, I don't know how to text message, and, as a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure I own the first cell phone ever made. It's bulky and it doesn't even have a camera in it. Seriously old school.

Who needs a laptop when they have a perfectly good desktop? So you can hold the computer on your lap, big whoop.

Well, I'll tell you what the big whoop is. The big whoop is having a cool brother who, when he hears that your husband has joined the rest of the world, will hook you up with an insanely excellent wireless internet connection.

That way, when the weather turns cold, you will be able to steal appropriate said laptop and snuggle in your bed, under your warm down comforter, while enjoying your evening computer time.

Instead of shivering in your drafty living room because some Luddite who shall remain nameless is trying to conserve the heating oil for the really cold weather and refuses to set the thermostat above 60 degrees at night.

Wonder who that nutjob is?

Anyway, my laptop Rob is bunking at the hospital tonight, waiting for his chance to catch a baby that is taking the scenic route. His patient has been in the hospital since last night, and when I talked with Rob this evening, she was still only at 2 centimeters.

For those of you who may not know (seriously doubtful given my intelligent readership), this woman is not even close to HALFWAY done. And she has been there since LAST NIGHT. God love her and pass the epidural.

Of course, that didn't make me any more cheerful when I was on the phone with him. After all, I've already been in her shoes (slippers? socks? sweet green backless gown?) four times, and now these feral children have sucked all of the mother empathy right out of me.

Oh, I kid.

I am a wellspring of empathy, but it's hard to tap into that while my help mate is telling me he won't be around for the help part tonight.

Especially when I have one crying about how I DON'T UNDERSTAND HER, and if I had a piano piece to practice that PRACTICALLY BROKE MY WRISTS OFF then maybe I would understand that she COULDN'T POSSIBLY PRACTICE ANYMORE TONIGHT.

Dramatic much?

I have another one who at one point today had a very legitimate coughing spasm. I made the mistake of doling out a cherry cough drop, and now he is walking all over the house hacking away like Typhoid Mary, jonesing for a cough drop, and causing the first one to wail about how she CAN'T CONCENTRATE WITH ALL THE COUGHING.

Then there are the two little ones who cry just for the thrill of it. And who wipe their noses on the bottom cushions of the sofa. (You know you want to come over.)

And I had to do the trash for trash night, which I'm pretty sure is in direct violation of our marriage troth. I'm pretty sure he said that he would love, honor, and take the trash out until death do us part.

Eh, but what are you going to do? Babies come on their own time. I'll just have to retire to my warm bed with a book instead of a computer.

My inner Luddite is so pleased.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Sunday Snippets

Contrary to popular belief, I am still alive. And I have discovered that life goes on, even if I have failed to update my blog since Wednesday.

I tried to get back here on Friday to participate in Jennifer's 7 Quick Takes meme kind of thing over at Conversion Diary. Obviously, even the "quick take" was too much for me to manage, since I posted no takes of any kind.

So I'm subscribing to the philosophy of better late than never, and I am doing some snippets on a Sunday. Not original, but just about all I can manage right now. I'm sure you'll be riveted by this post.

(Oh, and if you aren't reading Conversion Diary, you should. Jennifer is a fantastic thinker and writer with a compassionate streak a mile wide. That combo is pretty hard to find these days.)

--1--
Apparently, I live under a huge rock, because I just looked at my calendar and realized that I have less than two weeks until Thanksgiving. And I am hosting the family Thanksgiving dinner!


The fact that Thanksgiving is right around the corner, means that Advent is nipping close on its heels. And with Advent comes Christmas shopping. And with Christmas shopping comes copious amounts of ibuprofen. Or wine. Whichever. (Oh, but it also means my favorite Christmas music, so that's good.)
--2--
It can be mighty disheartening when your child's principal tells you that she can "mandate changes in the schedule to accommodate your son, but [she] cannot mandate a change in his teacher's attitude." FAN-tastic.


It's hard to know that the teacher thinks of your child as the problem child.


--3--
For those of you fellow Blogger bloggers, what is the deal with Followers? I use a reader, so I'm late to the Follower party. I'm wondering if you like using the Follower feature better, and why?


Also? I've given up on Twitter --at least for a while. It's just too much. I don't update my Facebook account either. It feels good to get that out there.


--4--
Teacher conferences make me nervous. Even when they are for the child who is an excellent student. While listening to the teacher tell us how well Francie is doing, I still managed to pick nervously at my cuticle enough to make it bleed. I mean, I need a Band-Aid stat! kind of bleeding. I may be certifiable.


--5--
I recently received information I had requested from a home schooling program, and I subsequently received a follow-up call from a woman affiliated with the program. She began the hard sell for home schooling pretty much from the word "hello."


I told her my reasons for considering home schooling Fiver, and I also told her that I am a fan of home schooling, even though I don't do it myself at this time. I know many wonderful families who do.


She continued her pitch, and I continued to expand on some of the issues we are facing with Fiver. I mentioned that we were trying to get him a full time classroom aide, to which she replied, "Well, that's good for now, but at some point he'll just become the 'retard with the aide'. Kids are cruel."


What, now, what?!?


I know kids are cruel, but apparently, so are adults. Maybe calling my kid a retard is not the best way to recruit my patronage of your program.


I wasn't even that mad, just amazed. And she didn't turn me off of the idea of home schooling, either.


But still.


--6--
Thankfully, I have rediscovered the fact that kindred spirits can never be underestimated. I had the chance this week to meet up with a friend I have not seen in over a year, but no matter. We picked up like we had seen each other the week before, falling into an easy conversation that spanned the range of topics from the economy to Asperger's Disorder to the guilty pleasure that is Twilight to hiding our reading material from our precocious daughters.


These kinds of friends, they are a balm to me.


Upon closer inspection of this list, I can see just how emotional this week has been. And I have felt it down to my bones.


It is no wonder then, that I have not posted much, since my M.O. has ever been to call retreat from the world when I am weary or sad.


But tomorrow is a new day, "fresh with no mistakes in it," as Anne-with-an-e would say. Thank God for that.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Way Back When-esday: Late Entry

I know I'm behind schedule. What else is new?

There is some heavy stuff going down regarding Fiver, and I've been out of the house all day. So instead of dwelling on certain things which may or may not come about, I'm going to delve into my photo album. Sounds like good therapy to me.

In light of the fact that yesterday was Veteran's Day, and in light of the other fact that I happen to live with one of my all time favorite veterans, here are some pictures of my vet and me way back when we were really young and in love. We're not really young anymore, but thankfully, we are still in love.
Without the jacket, Rob looks like a commercial pilot. Except I don't think they give commercial pilots medals.
Did you know that the Navy has the equivalent of a senior prom? Same posed photos, same food, same DJ, but you don't have to sneak in the booze.

Yes, we were twelve. And Rob had possibly the skinniest neck ever to slip through the dress whites choker collar.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

An Open Letter to Graco ** UPDATED

Updated to add: Graco officially rocks The HomeFront Corp! I contacted customer service this morning, and then I also dropped by the Graco blog where I again mentioned my stroller difficulties and left them a link back here.

The verdict? These people do not mess around. I got emails and phone calls, and by one o'clock they were telling me how to ship the stroller back to them so that could replace the whole durn thing! They have hooked this Mommy up in a big way. They even apologized in advance if they aren't able to match the exact pattern. The only pattern I care about is a seat up front and a seat in back, the rest is just gravy.

So to Lindsay, Amy, Michelle, and the rest of the Graco mavens, I extend a hearty thank you. And I am sure the stores to which we will venture with our new stroller will thank you as well!

**********************************************

To My Good Friends at Graco:

Let me begin by saying how much I enjoy your products. I have been mothering for nine years straight, give or take the approximately two hours each night that I am allowed to lie down in my own bed without a child draped somewhere on my personage, and in that time, many Graco products have found their way into our home. We have always been impressed by their quality and durability.

We have listened to our babies over your monitors, we have fed them in your high chairs, we have transported them in your car seats and boosters, and they have passed many vacation nights in a Pack 'N Play. What I'm saying is that we are fans of Graco. In light of our long-standing use of your products, I'm hoping that you can help us with a problem with one of your strollers.

This letter pertains specifically to the Quattro Tour Duo Stroller. I don't think I can overstate my deep affection for this stroller. I big pink strawberry scented heart this stroller. I know that sounds weird, but you have to understand our family's star-crossed history with strollers.

You see, we have had many strollers in our day. Joggers, umbrellas, full-size, travel systems -- you name it, we've tried it. And what we have discovered is that we must be unfailingly brutal people, because we have broken every single kind at least once. In fact, our garage is where strollers come to die. It's not pretty.

But the Quattro Tour Duo? Oh, that's my ace in the hole. It is so easy to maneuver, the handles are the perfect height for tall people like myself, and it is as sleek as a double stroller can possibly be. It is like the Cadillac of strollers. No, it's like a lim-o-zeen.

And now it's broken, and I miss it terribly. Especially now that I am forced to use an umbrella stroller for the baby while my toddler roams the stores like a rogue agent. She's a broken field runner, that one, and it's better for everyone involved to keep her restrained with the Quattro Tour Duo's five point harness.

I know I have four energetic children, and I know that some of them, who shall remain anonymous, have the strength of ten men when they are seized by a paroxysm of childish rage over the fact that I zipped a coat that should only ever be zipped by a toddler. (It should never, ever, ever be zipped by the mother. Ever. I bring these things on myself, I really do.)

However, that being said, I'm sure you have rigorous product testing and strength trials, right? You must have machines that simulate the constant and punishing kicking inflicted on a foot rest in the throes of a tantrum, correct?

And I'm sure you also have machines that simulate the amount of pressure on a stroller's frame caused by a nine year old and a six year old draping themselves on the side, or possibly even trying to hitch a ride, while said tantrum is occurring because walking fifty feet to the exit of the store is something that no mother should ask of her children.

I'm sure you can see how much I need my Quattro back, so here is the problem I am facing. We have always been big fans of the one-handed collapse feature, but now our stroller refuses to collapse. We cannot turn the handle at all, and believe me, we have tried every which way to Sunday to bend this stroller to our wills. Kudos on the stroller's super strong frame.

My husband did manage to partially fold it up once in the past few weeks, unfortunately I was bent over the stroller at the time and he closed it on my head. I didn't sustain any injuries, but
you can see why we are loathe to try that again. It could be mighty hard to explain to a physician:


So how did you sustain these bruises on your neck, ma'am?
My husband folded my favorite double stroller on my head. Accidentally. Again.
Mm. I see.

Do you have any suggestions for me, my Graco friends? Have other people had this problem? Is there some kind of part we can replace that will bring back the portability of our Quattro? Our stroller is only nine months old, and I need it for at least the next twelve two years.

I am all ears, because I am not joking when I say that I need that stroller with the five point harness operational and fully portable by the Christmas rush.

Thanks for helping a mom out,

Sincerely,

Aimee

Monday, November 10, 2008

Monday, Monday

No, this is not turning into a photo blog. Unless blurry action shots of my kids taken on an abused and fickle camera constitutes a photo blog? No, I didn't think so either.

The weekend took over, and now I am facing another Monday feeling brain dead. So I will leave you with this shot of Bun, which cracks me up to no end.

I hope to return to my usual mediocre content sometime today, but will I? That's a question for the ages, I'm sure.

Wait, what?! You mean Mondays come around every week! Oh, the humanity.

Thursday, November 06, 2008

Forbearance Is A Virtue

Is this what his face will look like when it's his wife looking over his shoulder?


Ready for a Change?

Because I don't want to leave my last post out there dangling for another day, and because I could use some light-heartedness, and because I have no time to write anything original today, I am serving you a piping hot mess of leftovers.

Obviously, I used to do Thursday Thirteens. And then life intervened and now I have come to peace with the fact that everything computer related has become a semi-regular event. Sometimes even less than semi. It's all good.

This was originally published almost two years ago, in December of 2006, but the list is still accurate. Don't judge me as you peruse this list- I was a weird kid and an even weirder adolescent. There are many more shows that never made it to the list: Wonder Woman, Scooby Doo, Charlie's Angels, The Monkees, etc . . .

Once you are done laughing, tell me which shows used to make you race home from school or race through your homework. You know the ones. And if you didn't watch television, then don't tell me. You are obviously too good and well-educated to be reading this anyway. I need to hang around you more often.


Thirteen TV shows that I loved as a kid (and whose theme songs take up too much brain space as an adult)

1. MacGyver: I know I referenced MacGyver in my previous Thursday Thirteen, but my devotion cannot be understated. Since this predated the arrival of the VCR in my parents' house, I used to pray that we would not have to be out anywhere on "MacGyver" night. But why do we have to take him to the hospital? It doesn't look like such a deep cut to me, can't we just put some pressure on it? Besides, Richard Dean Anderson, a hummana hummana hummana . . . .

2. Jem and the Holograms : This show was truly outrageous . . . truly,truly,truly outrageous. I used to watch this in the morning during summer vacation, and wish I was Jerrica Benson. She had it all, folks: - a record company (that someone was trying to sabotage), a super-computer (that could be accessed through her earrings), a hot all-girl band (who apparently hired the same makeup artist as KISS), a dreamy boyfriend named Rio (Rio! Who wouldn't want a boyfriend named Rio, even if he only liked your rock-star alter-ego and didn't know you existed), and best of all, synergy! Outrageous, indeed.

3. The Love Boat : I loved this show for the single reason that my grandmother loved this show, and on nights that I would sleep over at her house, she would let me sit up on her big bed and watch The Love Boat in her room. Really good times.

4. She-Ra: Princess of Power : Basically, this was He-Man for girls, but we all know that Adora could put the hurt on Adam any day of the week. And she had better legs.

5. 3-2-1 Contact : The science nerd in me loved this show, and I always wondered why we never did all those cool experiments in class. Plus, "The Bloodhound Gang" could solve a mystery in about 7 minutes flat, because if "you've got the crime, we've got the time, we're The Bloodhound Gang."

6. Belle and Sebastian : No other show has ever made me want to be an orphaned gypsy wandering the Pyrenees as much as this show. Plus, I also thought a dog with a barrel of "cheer" around its neck would probably come in handy on several occasions.

7. Buck Rogers in the 25th Century : I was not a big fan of space- themed shows, but this was the exception. I mostly wanted my hair to look like Erin Gray's because she was rockin' the 25th century Earth look. (And I am hereby officially conceding to my husband that he has been correct all along about the name of Buck Rogers' robot sidekick, which is Twiki, not "Twinky" like I used to think.)

8. The Great Space Coaster : "Come on board for the Great Space Coaster . . ." This was such a trippy show, but I had the same rainbow overalls as one of the characters, so I was hooked. Plus it had Gary Gnu, and we all know that "no gnus is good gnus."

9. The Young Riders : While all my friends were deciding which New Kid they liked the best, I was obsessing over the Pony Express and the wild west. I used to have a handmade poster in my room that proclaimed this "The Greatest Show on Earth" -- well, that and the circus, apparently.

10. Scarecrow and Mrs. King : The reruns of this show were in my parents' post-VCR era and I used many a hard -earned babysitting dollar to buy blank VHS tapes so that I could watch (and re-watch), and subsequently memorize, every episode of this show. A sickness, I tell you . . .

11. Thundercats : Looking back on it now, this show was virtually riddled with s*exual imagery (yelling "Thunder, thunder, thunder, thundercats, HO!!!!!" while your sword grows to preposterous lengths? Really, Lion-O?), but I never realized it at the time. It gives me hope that my kids will go on to lives as productive citizens, even if they are (inadvertently) exposed to crap in their childhoods.

12. Voltron : My question: when will the team realize that when a strange ship/air freight cargo box lands on the planet, it always houses another Robeast? Oh, and that the Robeast will always go for the Blue Lion first because that is the one piloted by Princess Allura (who was the team newbie and a valuable hostage rolled into one)? Come on, guys, use your heads.

13. Battle of the Planets : OK, I didn't actually watch this (see: my feelings about space-themed shows), but this is a little "seven-zark-seven," "G-force," "always 5 acting as one," love note to my husband.





Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Just One More Thing And Then I Will Shut Up About the Election. I Think.****

***** Edited again (11/6) to address the comment thread:

Auuughh! I knew it! Ye Olde Can of Worms has been opened.

Please forgive me if I get confused, but there are multiple "Anonymouses" (Anonymi?) in the combox. I'm doing my best to keep everything civil and open.

To Anonymous #2 (I think), regarding your comment about liberals and abortion, etc. I do have friends who have suffered through abortions and I do not for one minute believe that they came to their decisions lightly or without tortured grief. Let me re-state that: I do not for one minute believe they decided on a whim to go out and have an abortion, la-de-da. I know they have suffered and I pray for them all the time; that they may find peace, that they can be released from their inner sadness. I love them, I do not judge them, and I only want goodness for their lives. I know they want the same for me.

I agree that it is easier to demonize "the other side", no matter what side you are on. The pro-lifers become crazy, radical, wing nut, religious freaks who are hell-bent on destroying personal freedom, while those who are pro-abortion rights become unfeeling, selfish, manipulative baby killers who only care about themselves.

It is so wrong to do that. Are there people like that on both sides? Yes, and you know that as well as I. Any movement always has its extremists, but I sincerely believe that most people fall in the middle.

You say that Obama himself said that no one is "pro-abortion," but from some of his other comments and actions, he seems to espouse abortion rights far more than he espouses rights to life. The prefix "pro" means that you actively support something. It is more than fair to say that Obama actively supports abortion rights.

He has promised that the first thing he will do as President is to sign the Freedom of Choice Act, and he voted against the Born Alive Infant Protection Act four times. Even when all the language he said was objectionable was removed. Obama has said that he wants abortions to decrease, but he has also said that we will cut funding to pregnancy crisis centers. How does a woman in a crisis pregnancy even have a choice between abortion and the life of her child if she has nowhere safe to turn?

Above all, abortion is a human rights issue, and the most basic one there is. This is not me trying to foist my religion off on someone else; I know atheist pro-lifers. Science says that life begins at conception. There is no other magical point when that child becomes a human, it is human from the get-go. They deserve protection under the law.


To Anonymous #1 (who is the original Anon. from Canada, I believe), I appreciated your courtesy from yesterday, but it seems to have evaporated today. Again, please forgive me if I have confused you with a different Anon. or if the electronic medium of this kind of communication is causing me to see a sneering quality where there is none meant.

I think that you were mainly responding to the other Canadian commenter who disagreed with your take on Canada's view of Barack Obama, but you didn't miss your chance to take a few jabs at the rest of the people who have commented thus far. Regarding the people who voted for Obama, you said you felt that 70% of the highly educated people in America voted for him.

I am highly educated, and I don't think that means I have to abandon my beliefs to vote. To rely on my moral compass in matters of government is not crazy and it does not make me a "right wing radical." I have not disguised my issues with the Republican party in this country.

In truth, I don't feel there is any party in our country that accurately represents my concerns, but I do the best with what I am presented after studying the issues and the candidates, and after prayerful consideration. To imply that I am uneducated because I don't want universal health care (which, by the way, would benefit my husband's career, but I still don't think it's the best way) or some of the other changes proposed by the Democrats is insulting at best.

You say that America will go the way of Canada and other developed countries, and that very well may be our future, but as far as I know, I still have the right to oppose that if I think it's not in our best interest.

I don't know if you'll be back, Anon., since this last comment certainly had a more hit-and-run feel to it, but that's all right because I am feeling pretty done with this conversation. What started out in a friendly tenor has turned into nothing more that a way to snipe at each other, and that's something I don't allow here. I reserve the right to close the comments if I suspect that this is turning into something unkind.


****Edited to address the comment thread:

Well, I did say I "thought" I was done, but it turns out I might not be all the way finished.

Actually, I just wanted to respond to a few points raised in the comments by Anonymous from Canada. (Check out the comments if you can; Anon. mentions lots of interesting differences between Canadian and American politics. And Anon. is courteous, which can be a rarity in the combox these days. Thanks, Anon.)

First of all, I wanted to clarify my statement that "the real praying has only just begun." I apologize if that came across as snarky or flippant, but I meant it in the truest way possible.

I am praying for President-elect Obama because he has an incredibly rough road ahead of him. I have no business judging him as a person, and that is what I pray I might avoid. I love my country, and he deserves, at the very least, my respect for the office he will hold. It's easy to be a Monday morning political analyst and second guess every move made by our elected officials (whether they deserve that scrutiny or not), but not many would be willing to do the job at all.

And I am beyond grateful to live in a country where I can take my children to vote without fearing harm to them or myself, or where I get to express differing opinions at all.

Secondly, on the issue of hope and change, I don't say that my hope is in God just because I don't like Barack Obama's politics. There is so much in this country that needs to be addressed, and sometimes I wonder if Pres.-elect Obama's campaign rhetoric of change and hope may have left the wrong impression with some people. It's not that I don't think we need a change -- Lord knows we needed change way before this election cycle -- but I don't think one human being can deliver it all. I didn't feel that way about John McCain either.

Thirdly, on Anon's comment regarding conservatives being upset about "a few moral issues," I am laying my cards on the table. This was my deal-breaker. Anon., I know you mentioned that in Canada, Pres.-elect Obama is actually seen as a more conservative candidate than in America. You also noted that "he seems to be right in the middle," but I am going to respectfully disagree. Pres.-elect Obama's stance on abortion is the most radical we've ever seen from an American politician, and his ideas about the economy are not that centrist either. That is why I voted against him.

Before we start pointing fingers and shouting "one issue voter!," let me lay some more cards on the table. I really believe, deep down in their heart of hearts, that everyone is a one issue voter. There, I said it.

I think that everyone has that one cause or issue that hits so close to home that they will always weight it a little more than other issues, whether consciously or subconsciously. In America, your "character" as a voter depends on the particular issue to which you cling.

I know that life is a foundational issue. Human life begins at conception. There is no other DNA like human DNA. A baby in the womb is not anything other than human, ever, and as such deserves protection under law. I am not trying to diminish other social justice causes - poverty, war, health care - all of these are extremely important. And all of them mean nothing if you don't have the right to live. That is the filter through which I view politics and my elected officials.

I do hope that once in office, Pres.-elect Obama can bring both sides together. I think that my mood may be caused more by the divisiveness of this campaign than anything else. As I said before, it seems that more people have been nastier with each other this go 'round.

I may have opened a can of worms with this response, and I don't mean just in the respect of offending readers or even losing readers. Many of my friends hold completely different beliefs, but I have to say what I think is true.

I am hopeful, because I choose to be. I know that America is bigger than one person, so I congratulate our president-to-be, I pray for him and his advisers, and I hope that we can all work together for the common good.

I thank you for your comments, especially when you have a different view for me to ponder, I just thought it was time for me to articulate some things. I have a strong vibe that this blog will return to its regularly scheduled programming in the very near future. You know, kid stuff and weirdness from a 30-something mother of four.

Because nothing is more hopeful than kids. Good times.

*********************************************************************


Well, I wanted it to be over and now it is.

Or is it? I have a distinct feeling that the real praying has only just begun.

I haven't turned on the television since early last evening, but I don't live under a rock. I know my candidate did not win, but I still believe that our history has only ever been in God's hands. And our future is there as well. God only asks us for faithfulness, the rest is up to Him.

So that is where I am at. Faithfulness. Full stop.

And now I wish one of my children would do something completely hilarious for me because I could use a laugh.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Quick and Painless?

Rob and I voted this morning after the older kids went to school. When we pulled up to our polling place, the line was already out the door and Sally announced, "I no like voting."

Hmm.

Thankfully, when we got inside, we saw that the line was due more to cramped quarters than actual volumes of people. We seem to have a preponderance of people with last names A-L. The M-Z people zipped right through. I'll let you guess which line we got to populate.

Rob and I got our fancy computer key cards and we exited our voting booths at the same moment. Synchronized voting, pretty cool.

While we were getting everyone zipped into jackets, Sally asked, "All done?" Rob said, "Yep. I know, it seems anticlimactic, doesn't it?"

The poll volunteer chuckled and said, "See? Didn't hurt a bit. Quick and painless."

His comment has been popping into my head at random times this morning, and I started wondering, "Was it? Did it really not hurt a bit?" I don't know about that.

Of course, I know he was just being friendly, making some small talk with his neighbors, but I don't know that this election season has been quick and painless. In many ways, it has been the antithesis. The divisiveness and rancor that has flowed freely, especially around the internet, has been something of which I have never seen the like.

It has been felt in families and between friends, in communities and churches. "I can't believe you are voting for him, Aunt Betty! Yes, well, only an insipid moron would vote for the other guy!"

There have been many evenings where I have read an article from the internet aloud to Rob, and then finished with the question, "What is going on with our country?!" Rob would warn me not to read the article's comments, but I would because I am a glutton for punishment. The hatred that is emboldened by the veil of anonymity is astounding. Things that people would not say to another's face are the first things that are typed under the name Anonymous.

And that is why I have assiduously refused to talk about the election here. I like dialogue, conversation, debate, even a good old fashioned civil argument, but I don't like enmity. And I won't have it.

Maybe that was wrong, maybe I should have been talking about it all along. Maybe I should have been putting my ideas out there and hoping to change a few minds and hearts, although I truly suspect that anyone who reads this blog either a) knows my opinions well, since in real life I talk about the election all the time, or b) is on the same page with me anyway. Preaching to the choir is the phrase, I believe.

I made my decision about my candidate a long time ago, and I have not seen one thing from the other candidate that has made me think for one minute about changing my mind. If anything, it has only distanced me farther.

Whatever happens today, I know that God is still working. He is still in charge of the Big Picture. His Word is still the truth, and in Him my hope rests, not in one man or one political party, but I don't think quick and painless was ever part of the bargain.






(Oh my heart, I just love this kid. He was practicing his pledge for school, and he ad-libbed the last line.)

Saturday, November 01, 2008

To The Beggars Go The Spoils

Well, we made it through Halloween night and now we have enough candy to get us through an apocalypse. And really, what better way to face a hypothetical apocalypse than with candy?

The kids, in case you cannot discern this from my mad photography skillz, were SuperGirl, a pensive Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, a dinosaur, and a disgruntled teddy bear.

But to be totally honest, the kids were most excited about the glow stick necklaces. Humans are powerless to resist the glow stick.

And now I'm off to enjoy a bucketful a handful a modest few two mini Twix bars. Oh, and my extra hour of the day! I plan to use my time wisely by waxing my eyebrows. Talk about scary.

Seriously, Mom? We're doing this whole bear costume thing? Really? Gah.
Nice haul, but what are you kids going to eat?

The motley crew. Not to be confused with Motley Crue. Although it's never too soon to brainstorm for next year.