Another picture-less post, I think.
Today was the big day, the Virgin Mary day. I had the Virgin's eye view of everything, including pounding feet dangerously close to me and my Jesus and whose underwear was peeking out of their leotards as they were rolling across the floor in costume. It was an amazing experience, though. The house was packed for the sold-out performance, and the show this year is phenomenal. I'm not saying this because my daughter believes herself to be the star of this show or because of my own divinity in it--it's a mind-blowing, expectation-exceeding celebration of the power of dance. I exaggerate very little when I say that when you see this show, you will laugh, you'll cry, you'll find yourself bopping in your seat and reassessing whether you're too old to take up salsa or ballet or jazz. You will sing Andrea Bocelli for weeks. The Company there makes dance look both breathtakingly athletic (a fact that I'll admit has often been lost on me in other dance performances I've seen...) and accessibly doable. This is just really accessible dance...it draws you in. I wish I could spread this gospel to everyone I know!
Melia, who was Jesus, is 6 months old, and Oh My Jesus, was it divine to hold a baby for almost two hours! She was perfect for the first act--googly and gurgly and captivated by the lights and activity in front of her, if a bit, um, sweetly popcorn smelling with her breastfed-baby poop in her diaper. She spent most of the time fooling around with a small spoon with a purple rubbery cover over the bowl and at our most visible moment, waving around a Tweety-Bird rattle, something I doubt the original Jesus did. But I think this is okay, since yesterday's Mary was chewing gum through the show. The job of the Virgin Mary in this show is to sit. People dance raucously in front of her (making it a very real question whether Mary is permitted to kind of rock out with them, since it's hard to not feel the beat, or whether Mary is supposed to behave as if in a stable in Bethlehem 2,008 years ago). She could make eye contact with the audience at times. She could peek toward the wings to see if the baby's father was still there. She could gaze in love for 2 hours at her baby, which is truthfully what I'd be doing if I just gave birth to this 6 month old in my arms.... I did a combination, sometimes bopping a bit to the music, sometimes watching the dancers and smiling, gently stroking the head of my baby, and trying to keep my "newborn" quiet and calm. Melia, for her part, let out some happy shrieks, cried a little and had to be replaced with a fake baby for 30 minutes before being returned to me as a "gift" from one of the members of the procession, and then was able to take her bow in the front of all of the other performers. I don't think she questioned too much where her attention should have been up there.
A Frances-ism:
* (we're driving in the car, just the two of us) "How do you think that God was created?" I try to craft some answer, taking into account that maybe she's not looking for deep theology or wanting something too complicated, about how He just kind of "Was", he wasn't created. And she interrupted saying, "You know what I think? I think it was probably like in Barbie Mariposa, when there's this sprinkling of all this glitter and swirling sparkles and then there was the fairy. I think that's the way God was created."
We ate the grossest gummi soda bottles today. Absolutely foul. Who comes up with this stuff?! On the plus side, I had a real moment of pride in Frances. I was at the self checkout and couldn't find the scan code for bulk candy on the computer there, so I asked Frances to run over to where the candy bins were and see if she could find a four-digit number on them and tell it to me. I expected nothing. Truly. And she did it! It bothers Walter and Ollie to no end that she still basically gets to unschool, but here's some proof that maturation happens all by itself.
Ollie and Walter both read their book club books for this month, Key to the Kingdom by Garth Nix. I don't like the name Garth Nix--it sounds like the name of an author that would just not appeal to me, and I know that probably the only thing worse than judging a book by its cover is judging a book by its author's name (whose last name is Nix, though?). But they both seemed to like the book. And I'm proud of them for reading it with some pressure in 2.5 days, when I know it wasn't a book that they were originally very excited about. Before that, Ollie had just finished _The Ghost's Grave_ by Peg Kehret and two days before that, _The Prince and the Pauper_, a book that he seems to have absolutely loved. Funny comment: "I think that Mark Twain is a really good author and everyone should read books by him." It must have been the way that he said it that struck me as funny, because it had a tone that suggested he didn't know that yes, this is a wildly popular writer and has been for a little while.... Tonight I started reading _Red Badge of Courage_ aloud. We had listened to it on CD a little while back, and they didn't want to finish it, even though it's pretty short. But they're getting into the Great Illustrated Classics version. It's a timely choice because they are going to Pamplin Historical Park at the end of the month for a program on the Civil War. I'm wondering how it's going to compare to Gary Paulsen's Civil War book for Ollie--also on the mixed feelings of a very young person who finds himself in a tough and frightening circumstance. Independently, Ollie is rereading the Book of Three. I'm not much of a re-reader myself, but both Ollie and Walter do quite a lot of it. Chalk it up as many different kinds of readers, I suppose. Walter's still on his Great Illustrated Classics binge--6 new ones for Christmas.
Final thoughts on New Years' Resolution: No need to achieve all of them (or start to do it) on January 1st. It's fine to start working on a resolution at any point, right?! So mine is to curb, if not end, what I refer to as "spillover." That unpleasant phenomenon that you are probably familiar with if you've read this blog over the past few months: where the vessel that is my brain and schedule-manager simply overfills and starts pouring stuff out of the top. I don't feel, like many do, that the hole is out the bottom. It honestly feels to me like responsibilities just can no longer fit and off they go. So anyway, I intend to wear a watch, to carry my calendar constantly, consolidate to simply one calendar and not a print one, one on the computer, and "I'll check in my email when I need a reminder", and never, never succumb to that uniquely non-employed occurrence of totally losing track of what day of the week it is. Commit to less. Prioritize more. Ask questions when I have them. Hide it better if I screw up. Carry more in my car at all times to hedge. And did I mention obsessing about my physical calendar more? Add this to my "No Fines in 2009" library resolution, and it just may be a Whole New Nancy!
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
I am wiped out. It's the middle of Poinsettia week, and it leaves little room for anything else. Tonight's rehearsal was incredible and was over in a timely fashion. I forgot to check to see if I needed to be the Virgin Mary tonight, so I wasn't. I was an audience member. There was also a photo shoot for Richmond Parent magazine, so Frances was able to have her diva moment.
The new computer came today, so I'm really excited to check it out more tomorrow. And we're way behind on our book club book for Friday, so I better hone my whip-cracking skills. Keys to the Kingdom by Garth Nix is the book. They're about halfway through in 1.5 days. It's pretty thick. They aren't necessarily as happy with it as they would be reading it at more of a self-chosen pace, but I dropped the ball and didn't realize that oh, this Friday is the meeting, not next. I've had a big problem with that since the break!
Ollie and I read half of a book called _It Happened In the White House_, which is about pets, children, weird events, ghosts, burnings, repairs, renovations, and all sorts of other things that have happened to Presidents and their families while living in the White House. I figure it's a good inauguration countdown read, not to mention how much this thing has cost me in fines because I didn't renew it three weeks ago. So we darn well better read it!
The new computer came today, so I'm really excited to check it out more tomorrow. And we're way behind on our book club book for Friday, so I better hone my whip-cracking skills. Keys to the Kingdom by Garth Nix is the book. They're about halfway through in 1.5 days. It's pretty thick. They aren't necessarily as happy with it as they would be reading it at more of a self-chosen pace, but I dropped the ball and didn't realize that oh, this Friday is the meeting, not next. I've had a big problem with that since the break!
Ollie and I read half of a book called _It Happened In the White House_, which is about pets, children, weird events, ghosts, burnings, repairs, renovations, and all sorts of other things that have happened to Presidents and their families while living in the White House. I figure it's a good inauguration countdown read, not to mention how much this thing has cost me in fines because I didn't renew it three weeks ago. So we darn well better read it!
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse...Kerry and Ollie came home today with a headset to play PS3 Live with. And it's free. Right now, Ollie is talking with God knows who from South Carolina while they are blowing apart a bunch of Germans. Ollie claims to be the unit's best sniper, but I'm not hearing confirmation. And now and then, someone he's playing with will say something like, "Man, this dude never stops talking, does he!" I can see that not only will our life never be the same again, but I may never see my family again....
Walter has reached level 66 or something like that on Runescape today. I worry that older kids are on there picking on him, since they still seem to call him a "Noob" all the time, even though he's been playing for months. He claims they aren't, although a band of Level 118s were ganging up on him earlier. When I wonder who Ollie is talking to on Call of Duty (right now he's yelling, "I definitely killed more than zero people!!! I know I killed more than zero people!--words I never thought I'd hear when I held that sweet tiny baby in my arms 10 years ago...), I just have to tell myself that Walter has over a hundred "friends" on Runescape. I just hope that they are constantly being vigilant not to give out any identifying information.
Christmas is officially put away. The tree is hauled off, the wreaths are in the attic, the lights are all out of the yard. Our yard is raked--for the first time this season--and the dead mole is out of the driveway. The house actually looks pretty cute, if I do say so myself.
Bye bye, tree.
I am off to read me some Twilight. I'm entranced. It has been a long time since I've read something that completely sucked me in to a point where I couldn't put it down to go to bed because I was absorbed in its world and couldn't wait for the next turn in what was happening. It's a pretty amazing book.
Walter has reached level 66 or something like that on Runescape today. I worry that older kids are on there picking on him, since they still seem to call him a "Noob" all the time, even though he's been playing for months. He claims they aren't, although a band of Level 118s were ganging up on him earlier. When I wonder who Ollie is talking to on Call of Duty (right now he's yelling, "I definitely killed more than zero people!!! I know I killed more than zero people!--words I never thought I'd hear when I held that sweet tiny baby in my arms 10 years ago...), I just have to tell myself that Walter has over a hundred "friends" on Runescape. I just hope that they are constantly being vigilant not to give out any identifying information.
Christmas is officially put away. The tree is hauled off, the wreaths are in the attic, the lights are all out of the yard. Our yard is raked--for the first time this season--and the dead mole is out of the driveway. The house actually looks pretty cute, if I do say so myself.
Bye bye, tree.I am off to read me some Twilight. I'm entranced. It has been a long time since I've read something that completely sucked me in to a point where I couldn't put it down to go to bed because I was absorbed in its world and couldn't wait for the next turn in what was happening. It's a pretty amazing book.
Friday, January 2, 2009
This is the Final Weekend!
We have this local furniture store, Haynes, where it is always The Final Weekend. Everything will be reduced! You will never see prices like this again! This is the Final Weekend!
Well, right now this is the final day of our holiday break. It doesn't mean absolutely everything in the grand scheme of our somewhat relaxed life, but it does feel like the end of the time that I had hoped to make the most of with our family--playing board games, making crafts, watching favorite movies, etc.
It's been mostly good. We did a lot of that, just not enough. And it really isn't as if Kerry will never have time in the evenings or we won't have some free time. But it is going to get hairy for a little bit here. It just hit me that this coming week is the hell week for Legend of the Poinsettia rehearsals. And it's also the week of prep for Frances's first mock gymnastics meet, which is unfortunate since she'll be missing a lot of gymnastics this week! I was planning to let her just show up late to these rehearsals up until the dress rehearsal, but now she has an opportunity to be in a photo shoot for either the local Richmond Parent magazine or the national Parents magazine (I was unsure which one was meant), and I know she'd get such a kick out of that. So we're back in high gear right away, then off into mock meet season for gymnastics, spelling bees, and field trips.
Last night was just the kind of night I dreamed this entire break would be. The boys and I taught Frances to play Uno (she won her second game, which was a huge boost!) and Blokus (which she taught to her friend Claire today), and then we played a round of Sight Word Bingo, a current favorite. My goal is to play a round or two of this Bingo every day, and hopefully those words will start to sink in. Then the boys and Kerry and I played a harsh game of Monopoly. In the interest of having the game end in a timely fashion, seeing as we started at 9 p.m., we all made some rather liberal trades, but Walter won, probably for the first time ever, and he won in a huge landslide. Ollie's heyday as the reigning champion is over, and it has been humbling for him. He thought he was invincible (or that we would never catch on to his cheating...).
And speaking of Ollie...poor Ollie in some ways. I've seen a lot of him over this break. This is the kid with no friends. I don't really know what to do about it other than to hope that he'll have more opportunities in the future to attempt to keep a new friendship or to learn constructively from his mistakes. He just does a lot of this, um, constructive learning, and it's kind of been the story of his life. One of these days, the body of knowledge he supposedly should have built by his so-called trials and definite errors will perhaps serve him well. Or maybe boys just don't have friends. It's hard to tell. And what's funny is that it's Walter who I always think of as the AS tending one, the one who has some deficits in social reading and functioning. He's off now with the Starks, after having spent the morning on Runescape with his cousins in Florida and his friends here (he supposedly has a Runescape friend list of over 100, whatever that means).
Right now I'm putting some audio CDs onto my computer to tranfer to the iPod, since the Henrico County ones are due tomorrow and today I have some free time on my hands to return them. We never did finish the last two CDs of Eragon, even though Ollie at one point described this as "his second favorite book ever." Hmmm...he loved it so much he didn't care what happened in the last 50 pages! We also have two CDs left of 11 with the Mysterious Benedict Society, a book I would best describe as "Not all that." I was mildly hooked on CD 1, and by the time we got to the middle of CD 2 I was struggling to pay attention to a story that was pretty flat. I don't think Ollie cares too much, either. Why do books have to be so freaking long? This is coming from someone whose PhD focus was very heavy on Charles Dickens and other novels of, well, Victorian length. But books, especially these variants-on-a-theme children's fantasy adventure novels with a "special" protagonist (the child who doesn't realize he's a secret agent/brilliant genius/mythological character/dragon rider-tamer-owner/genie/wizard), would do well to cut their length to about half of their current average. When I read them...IF I read them...I hear a commentary in my own head of blah, blah, blah as they go on and on with description or scenes that are just plain boring. This isn't my genre, but geez, I love books that are tight and full and keep you wanting more but also feeling a sense of accomplishment. Is it too much to ask? This Mysterious Benedict Society book might well have been a success with us if it had kept itself to, say, 5 or 6 CDs at most or 280 pages.
My resolutions for this year:
1. Lose my temper less. Live each day more as if I'm privileged to have been given the children that are here with e.
2. Find a better system for getting my library books back on time. Have I mentioned that I love Henrico, which emails me a few days before books are due to let me know that my time is just about up? In contrast to Chesterfield, which emails me a week or two later to let me know how naughty I was. My motto: "Fewer Fines in 2009!"
3. Find more time in my days for what I most want to do. I think regular people call this Prioritizing. I am finding myself thinking, "Well, now how in the hell do other people find the time to read 2100 pages of vampire books?" And the answer is probably something like: If I spent less time blogging or less time playing Yahtzee or less time on the phone or less time watching History Channel, then I'd suddenly find I had that time for 2100 page vampire trilogies. Or maybe that's no where I want to spend my time after all. But I want to feel a better sense of time usage and honesty with myself about what I'd rather be doing with the 24 hours I've been given in each day.
4. Find contentment where I am. I'm always looking at moving or revamping or whatever. I would like to be more goal-focused. What are my overall goals for my life now? And then hold these time-suck musings on moving across town or to a farm or to Roanoke or Boulder up to my touchstone and see how well they fare. If it's not in line with a clear mission statement, out it goes before whole days or weeks go by in fantasies, budget calculations, and market research.
5. Develop a higher sense of self esteem. I feel pretty useless lately, like I have no skills that anyone would really want. I know that isn't true, but I also can't seem to prove it, especially to myself. I feel qualified only to sit at home with my own children, being critical of how I'm even doing that. I want to feel like a competent person who has made life choices, and I want to feel that just because I don't have a good line on my resume from it right now that it's not a waste of my life or a waste of potential. I want to live my potential within the scheme I have currently chosen for myself.
6. More attention to the developing needs of Frances and Rutledge. It's so easy for me to think heavily about schoolwork for Walter and Ollie, but these two are so ready for higher interaction, if I could only find the time and energy. Today Rutledge was working in a maze book for the first time and he was awesome. He also used scissors for the first time, and he was enthralled for almost an hour cutting along lines in a Kumon book and assembling pictures he had cut out. Frances had a great reading session this morning and got all the way through The Foot Book on her own as well as nearing the end of Box 1 from Hooked on Phonics. I don't want to push her, but I dont' want to ignore her, either.
Finished today: _Shipwreck!_ by Gordon Korman. Great little read. We're eager for the second volume!
Finished the other day: _A Girl Called Eva_. Awesome WWII book. I hope to find more like it.
Well, right now this is the final day of our holiday break. It doesn't mean absolutely everything in the grand scheme of our somewhat relaxed life, but it does feel like the end of the time that I had hoped to make the most of with our family--playing board games, making crafts, watching favorite movies, etc.
It's been mostly good. We did a lot of that, just not enough. And it really isn't as if Kerry will never have time in the evenings or we won't have some free time. But it is going to get hairy for a little bit here. It just hit me that this coming week is the hell week for Legend of the Poinsettia rehearsals. And it's also the week of prep for Frances's first mock gymnastics meet, which is unfortunate since she'll be missing a lot of gymnastics this week! I was planning to let her just show up late to these rehearsals up until the dress rehearsal, but now she has an opportunity to be in a photo shoot for either the local Richmond Parent magazine or the national Parents magazine (I was unsure which one was meant), and I know she'd get such a kick out of that. So we're back in high gear right away, then off into mock meet season for gymnastics, spelling bees, and field trips.
Last night was just the kind of night I dreamed this entire break would be. The boys and I taught Frances to play Uno (she won her second game, which was a huge boost!) and Blokus (which she taught to her friend Claire today), and then we played a round of Sight Word Bingo, a current favorite. My goal is to play a round or two of this Bingo every day, and hopefully those words will start to sink in. Then the boys and Kerry and I played a harsh game of Monopoly. In the interest of having the game end in a timely fashion, seeing as we started at 9 p.m., we all made some rather liberal trades, but Walter won, probably for the first time ever, and he won in a huge landslide. Ollie's heyday as the reigning champion is over, and it has been humbling for him. He thought he was invincible (or that we would never catch on to his cheating...).
And speaking of Ollie...poor Ollie in some ways. I've seen a lot of him over this break. This is the kid with no friends. I don't really know what to do about it other than to hope that he'll have more opportunities in the future to attempt to keep a new friendship or to learn constructively from his mistakes. He just does a lot of this, um, constructive learning, and it's kind of been the story of his life. One of these days, the body of knowledge he supposedly should have built by his so-called trials and definite errors will perhaps serve him well. Or maybe boys just don't have friends. It's hard to tell. And what's funny is that it's Walter who I always think of as the AS tending one, the one who has some deficits in social reading and functioning. He's off now with the Starks, after having spent the morning on Runescape with his cousins in Florida and his friends here (he supposedly has a Runescape friend list of over 100, whatever that means).
Right now I'm putting some audio CDs onto my computer to tranfer to the iPod, since the Henrico County ones are due tomorrow and today I have some free time on my hands to return them. We never did finish the last two CDs of Eragon, even though Ollie at one point described this as "his second favorite book ever." Hmmm...he loved it so much he didn't care what happened in the last 50 pages! We also have two CDs left of 11 with the Mysterious Benedict Society, a book I would best describe as "Not all that." I was mildly hooked on CD 1, and by the time we got to the middle of CD 2 I was struggling to pay attention to a story that was pretty flat. I don't think Ollie cares too much, either. Why do books have to be so freaking long? This is coming from someone whose PhD focus was very heavy on Charles Dickens and other novels of, well, Victorian length. But books, especially these variants-on-a-theme children's fantasy adventure novels with a "special" protagonist (the child who doesn't realize he's a secret agent/brilliant genius/mythological character/dragon rider-tamer-owner/genie/wizard), would do well to cut their length to about half of their current average. When I read them...IF I read them...I hear a commentary in my own head of blah, blah, blah as they go on and on with description or scenes that are just plain boring. This isn't my genre, but geez, I love books that are tight and full and keep you wanting more but also feeling a sense of accomplishment. Is it too much to ask? This Mysterious Benedict Society book might well have been a success with us if it had kept itself to, say, 5 or 6 CDs at most or 280 pages.
My resolutions for this year:
1. Lose my temper less. Live each day more as if I'm privileged to have been given the children that are here with e.
2. Find a better system for getting my library books back on time. Have I mentioned that I love Henrico, which emails me a few days before books are due to let me know that my time is just about up? In contrast to Chesterfield, which emails me a week or two later to let me know how naughty I was. My motto: "Fewer Fines in 2009!"
3. Find more time in my days for what I most want to do. I think regular people call this Prioritizing. I am finding myself thinking, "Well, now how in the hell do other people find the time to read 2100 pages of vampire books?" And the answer is probably something like: If I spent less time blogging or less time playing Yahtzee or less time on the phone or less time watching History Channel, then I'd suddenly find I had that time for 2100 page vampire trilogies. Or maybe that's no where I want to spend my time after all. But I want to feel a better sense of time usage and honesty with myself about what I'd rather be doing with the 24 hours I've been given in each day.
4. Find contentment where I am. I'm always looking at moving or revamping or whatever. I would like to be more goal-focused. What are my overall goals for my life now? And then hold these time-suck musings on moving across town or to a farm or to Roanoke or Boulder up to my touchstone and see how well they fare. If it's not in line with a clear mission statement, out it goes before whole days or weeks go by in fantasies, budget calculations, and market research.
5. Develop a higher sense of self esteem. I feel pretty useless lately, like I have no skills that anyone would really want. I know that isn't true, but I also can't seem to prove it, especially to myself. I feel qualified only to sit at home with my own children, being critical of how I'm even doing that. I want to feel like a competent person who has made life choices, and I want to feel that just because I don't have a good line on my resume from it right now that it's not a waste of my life or a waste of potential. I want to live my potential within the scheme I have currently chosen for myself.
6. More attention to the developing needs of Frances and Rutledge. It's so easy for me to think heavily about schoolwork for Walter and Ollie, but these two are so ready for higher interaction, if I could only find the time and energy. Today Rutledge was working in a maze book for the first time and he was awesome. He also used scissors for the first time, and he was enthralled for almost an hour cutting along lines in a Kumon book and assembling pictures he had cut out. Frances had a great reading session this morning and got all the way through The Foot Book on her own as well as nearing the end of Box 1 from Hooked on Phonics. I don't want to push her, but I dont' want to ignore her, either.
Finished today: _Shipwreck!_ by Gordon Korman. Great little read. We're eager for the second volume!
Finished the other day: _A Girl Called Eva_. Awesome WWII book. I hope to find more like it.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
I am doomed for the New Year. I forgot to eat my blackeyed peas today. But I have to say, I don't think I've ever missed a year, and I've had some years that have just sucked to high heaven. Maybe it's time to tempt fate a little bit. Maybe I didn't eat them because I wasn't home, but I was just informed that they were at the party we went to this afternoon, so I have no excuse. As usual, my ADD self didn't notice half of what was served--I just took in the vague impression "lots of food."
I couldn't believe that Rutledge managed to stay up until midnight last night. That's not entirely correct, actually, He went to bed around 8, but then woke up again at 11:30 and came downstairs and watched the ball drop with us. Frances had all the best intentions of staying up, but she was down by 9. The rest of us worked on the four model rockets for the launch today, built half of an Erector "Battering Ram" carnival ride (with the nifty power-tool that came with our one set), played Blokus, and watched a marathon of shows on the History channel about Instruments of Torture. All in all, it was our traditional New Years Eve.
This morning we had to be up and functional too early to go to an annual model rocket launch. Last year our record for 2 for 2 in losing rockets. This year went much better. I think it portends well for our luck in the new year. The first rocket we launched was our "safe" rocket--the big shiny one that didn't claim high altitude. It had a lovely flight, then descended beautifully right into the top of a very, very tall tree, where it hung by its shock cord, taunting me for the rest of the morning. The second one was the pencil, and it also went up rather nicely. Then the nose cone completely separated from the body of the rocket, which came down without incident. The nose cone, however, carried aloft by a merciless wind, sailed off with its orange and yellow parachute over the trees, over the top of the Morningside Assisted Living facility, and into the great unknown. Three times...three times I picked through every piece of landscaping at Morningside, and I interviewed an elderly resident who was sitting outside and claimed to have seen no parachuting nose cones, but all to no avail. I must declare that rocket a loss. Our third rocket, which we dubbed "The Duct Tape Express" because it fell apart before it even started its flight, came down separated from its nose cone as well, but all was recovered. It went on to have two or three flights, but by the time all were done, its fragile build had suffered fatal wounds; it should not fly again. Our fourth, The Gnome, was extremely tiny and performed much better than expected. Alas, the greater Richmond area seems to be experiencing a model rocket engine shortage, especially of the smallest multi-stage A engines, so we only had an engine for one flight. It returned home ready to perform another day.
All in all, our record stands at 50% for today (25% if you count that the Hi Flier has made its final flight). Next year I predict a 75% success rate. I sense we're on a roll.
Lunch was spent with friends at their house. It was without incident. And I learned there what I will spend my B&N gift card on: the Twilight trilogy. I've never been a fan of vampire books, but non-vampire genre readers have insisted that it is a must-read they never would have suspected. And who would not be intrigued by LDS bloodsuckers? I can't wait to go out tomorrow morning to take care of this errand!
Immediately after, we headed to another New Year's party at another friend's house. This one was in Woodlake, and we met one of our newer neighbors and were able to swap stories about our favorite ill-spirited dog-walkers here. This couple is inexplicably hateful, and when they aren't actively pissing me off, I really do feel sorry for them because something awful must have happened in their life to make them so unpleasant and unable to just live and let live. They're the type of people who feel they must walk around with a notebook and take notes on all of the real and potential covenant violations at every house in the neighborhood, who scowl and refuse to say hello when you pass them, and who pointedly inform you as they go by that whatever you are doing is displeasing to them or not allowed. My children quake in their shoes when they see Mr. S. and his Westie. This party had more food than I think I've seen just about anywhere, and the kids had a great time running around outside in the freezing cold weather with their friends Jackson, Adam, Grant, and a collection of new faces. Frances had a whole girl posse to play with. And Rutledge was, as usual, loudly protesting the unfairness of being treated as if he was, well, three. The fellow gets absolutely no respect. He is a big boy (Sissy told him so!), and yet no one will let him have a fair turn with the Wii, no matter where he goes. We heard about that loud and clear, in a style that can only be described as Three-Year-Old-Up-Past-Midnight.
I am going to have to wait until tomorrow for any kind of cogent Year in Review kind of post or any serious resolution making. It has officially been 2009 for 24 hours now, and I am ready to spent the next ten hours or so sleeping!
I couldn't believe that Rutledge managed to stay up until midnight last night. That's not entirely correct, actually, He went to bed around 8, but then woke up again at 11:30 and came downstairs and watched the ball drop with us. Frances had all the best intentions of staying up, but she was down by 9. The rest of us worked on the four model rockets for the launch today, built half of an Erector "Battering Ram" carnival ride (with the nifty power-tool that came with our one set), played Blokus, and watched a marathon of shows on the History channel about Instruments of Torture. All in all, it was our traditional New Years Eve.
This morning we had to be up and functional too early to go to an annual model rocket launch. Last year our record for 2 for 2 in losing rockets. This year went much better. I think it portends well for our luck in the new year. The first rocket we launched was our "safe" rocket--the big shiny one that didn't claim high altitude. It had a lovely flight, then descended beautifully right into the top of a very, very tall tree, where it hung by its shock cord, taunting me for the rest of the morning. The second one was the pencil, and it also went up rather nicely. Then the nose cone completely separated from the body of the rocket, which came down without incident. The nose cone, however, carried aloft by a merciless wind, sailed off with its orange and yellow parachute over the trees, over the top of the Morningside Assisted Living facility, and into the great unknown. Three times...three times I picked through every piece of landscaping at Morningside, and I interviewed an elderly resident who was sitting outside and claimed to have seen no parachuting nose cones, but all to no avail. I must declare that rocket a loss. Our third rocket, which we dubbed "The Duct Tape Express" because it fell apart before it even started its flight, came down separated from its nose cone as well, but all was recovered. It went on to have two or three flights, but by the time all were done, its fragile build had suffered fatal wounds; it should not fly again. Our fourth, The Gnome, was extremely tiny and performed much better than expected. Alas, the greater Richmond area seems to be experiencing a model rocket engine shortage, especially of the smallest multi-stage A engines, so we only had an engine for one flight. It returned home ready to perform another day.
All in all, our record stands at 50% for today (25% if you count that the Hi Flier has made its final flight). Next year I predict a 75% success rate. I sense we're on a roll.
Lunch was spent with friends at their house. It was without incident. And I learned there what I will spend my B&N gift card on: the Twilight trilogy. I've never been a fan of vampire books, but non-vampire genre readers have insisted that it is a must-read they never would have suspected. And who would not be intrigued by LDS bloodsuckers? I can't wait to go out tomorrow morning to take care of this errand!
Immediately after, we headed to another New Year's party at another friend's house. This one was in Woodlake, and we met one of our newer neighbors and were able to swap stories about our favorite ill-spirited dog-walkers here. This couple is inexplicably hateful, and when they aren't actively pissing me off, I really do feel sorry for them because something awful must have happened in their life to make them so unpleasant and unable to just live and let live. They're the type of people who feel they must walk around with a notebook and take notes on all of the real and potential covenant violations at every house in the neighborhood, who scowl and refuse to say hello when you pass them, and who pointedly inform you as they go by that whatever you are doing is displeasing to them or not allowed. My children quake in their shoes when they see Mr. S. and his Westie. This party had more food than I think I've seen just about anywhere, and the kids had a great time running around outside in the freezing cold weather with their friends Jackson, Adam, Grant, and a collection of new faces. Frances had a whole girl posse to play with. And Rutledge was, as usual, loudly protesting the unfairness of being treated as if he was, well, three. The fellow gets absolutely no respect. He is a big boy (Sissy told him so!), and yet no one will let him have a fair turn with the Wii, no matter where he goes. We heard about that loud and clear, in a style that can only be described as Three-Year-Old-Up-Past-Midnight.
I am going to have to wait until tomorrow for any kind of cogent Year in Review kind of post or any serious resolution making. It has officially been 2009 for 24 hours now, and I am ready to spent the next ten hours or so sleeping!
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Tonight I went somewhere I hope I never have to go to again: a memorial service for a 20 year old who took his life on Christmas Eve. I never met Nick, but I play tennis regularly with his mother, who is a wonderfully lovely woman. She's also the yoga instructor I go to when I manage to make it to a yoga class. She also had a small business selling tennis clothes, which she just liquidated this past summer, and she is always so amazingly generous with helping us as customers, letting us take clothes home to try on so that we aren't putting them on while we're dripping with sweat at the club. So when I heard the news about her son, my heart just about bled for her. And I'll admit, one of my first reactions was some anger that anyone would make her hurt in this way, particularly at Christmas, with a pain that will stab hard again every year at this time.
The memorial service was both heart-wrenching and inspiring in many ways. There were probably 300 people there, and at least half of them were friends of his. He had a ton of friends, friends who clearly loved him very much. The slide show playing before the service and the pictures that were everywhere through the funeral home spoke of a little boy who was deeply loved by his parents and siblings and who was surrounded by people who cared about him. I don't think there was a dry eye in the place as his "crew" of friends (just like my dh's in high school) came up one by one to tell a (clean) story about him. Clearly he was quite a character and kept his parents on his toes--full of mischief and just fun to be around. Over and over I heard person after person from all over his life, from the headmaster of the school he attended in middle and high school to his neighborhood and college friends to his own family saying that he had an incredible laugh and was kind and generous to an extreme. I kept thinking that I hoped that these would be the kinds of things that people might all say about my own children when they are his age.
Even though I didn't know him, my reaction came deeply from being a parent myself. And what struck me so deeply was that I have no idea what made him feel that he had no other way to find peace, but no matter how "mischievous" a child might be, no matter how many sleepless nights he might bring his parents, hundreds of hurting people sitting there tonight were a loud, strong testament that parents, siblings, family, friends--they are resolutely and absolutely not better off without this person here with them. And it also brought home to me that the kids who stand out, for whatever reason, whether it's because they find all kinds of mischievous trouble or have the zany ideas or are always thinking of others and perhaps not covering their own ass--they're the ones that we all remember and just love. It made me reaffirm that no matter what my kids do, no matter how "difficult" their teen years might be, no matter how much they may end up standing out in whatever way, they are still deeply, wildly loved and I hope that they will constantly know that. Judy, Tony, and the rest of their family were such manifestations of that kind of love.
My resolution after tonight is that I know it isn't entirely realistic, but I want to live with my children in a way that I would have no regrets. If, God forbid, their lives were cut short for some reason, I want to feel like I have given my best with them and have been kind and forgiving and loving. I want to always see them as the gift that they are, perhaps as an imperfect gift, as a gift that will surely give me many more sleepless nights and worries and trials, but as something entrusted to me for a limited amount of time (no matter what, they will one day not be under my primary care). I also hope to bring more patience to this job of parenting. I can't expect it to be easy, but it's so important to keep your eyes on the big prize--that you love these people more than anything, that the more "character" they have, perhaps the even more lovable they are, and I want them to know that. It was just a very sobering week processing something that was both not so close to me and yet so very close to all of our lives.
I am seeing such a change happening lately with Walter and Ollie. It's also sobering. I can easily say things like, "Oh, they are more than halfway to leaving home now," or "It's been longer since they've been born since when they will be in college," or "Only a little over 5 years until they have a learner's permit!" But really, they are becoming people we can do things with. Tonight we played real Scrabble for the first time. They needed a lot of help this time around, especially because their spelling skills aren't that great, but there they were playing. They can play Trivial Pursuit if the game is multi-leveled. We can play Risk and Stratego and highly competitive games of Monopoly. I can start thinking about Ollie reading the history books I get for myself (today I used my B&N gift certificate and got a National Book Award winner about the Dust Bowl and that Pulitzer winning _Founding Brothers_). It's exciting, but it also makes me realize that it might not be long before they are going to be far more their own people and probably less open to my agendas. They are starting to be responsible enough to look after siblings while we're home and busy. They can change diapers, put clothes on toddlers, and help make their own food. I know that the whole point of parenting is to help them become independent people, but it is hard to accept that those formative years, the primary time of influence from me is rapidly coming to its conclusion. Have I done enough? Have I harmed them for life? Have I fulfilled my obligations? Have I done the best job that I could have?
We also did most of the work making the four model rockets we bought this week tonight. The original plan was to launch at a different site from the last one we did, where we lost both of our rockets, so I let them get some more very small, high flying ones. Now it turns out that the new location is going to be locked this week, so we are back at the old spot. I'm afraid that Ollie's little "Hi Flier" and Walter's wee little "Gnome" are going to never be seen again. I made sure that Rutledge and Frances's rockets were larger and less lofty, since I'd like to bring a bit of our investment home with us for once! This also made me eschew some of the choices that had things like a helicopter propellor to bring back the nose cone separate from the rocket, which comes down by parachute (how much do you want to bet that we'd come home with a nose-less rocket?) or the one that had two space shuttles that come off the sides and 'glide' back to earth. Simple was the name of the game for me. I also decided that there were going to be no badges given out for choosing a kit with a Skill Level higher than 1 and that no one was going to banish me to the Space Loser Camp if we got ones that required no sanding, painting, or complex construction at all. Here's our progress so far: the Pencil, the Gnome, the Hi Flier, and the Chrominator.
This is what my van looks like. People are always climbing over seats, changing positions to be near someone or away from someone. And Rutledge is almost always screaming about something. The grumpy face here is one of his old standbys: "I want Toke! Give me Toke!" (That's Coke, for those who actually pronounce their /k/ sounds.) The big outing today was to B&N to use our gift certificates from Grandma. Ollie got The Hobbit on audio CD, a Monk book (from Monk the TV show), and an Elvis cookbook. I got two history books and the Percy Jackson series--yeah, I know it's a kid's book, but I want to read all of them myself. I still have quite a bit left on my card. Rutledge got a counting book featuring dogs, a Kumon cutting book and a mazes book, and a stuffed gold dragon. Walter got Marley and Me and I can't remember what else. And Frances got an American Girl kit where you design t-shirts for your doll and a hairstyling kit with a blond wig with pink and blue hair extensions. She has been saying lately that she wants long hair. I don't know...whaddya think? Given that she yanked out a whole pile of that hair with a brush when she got home, I'm not sure it's such a great idea.
I've always loved finding these kinds of photos when I download things from my camera. We get the typical pictures of people's fingers or the roof of the minivan, but then there are these fascinating little photo shoots:
Poor Bilbo in his jail.
The memorial service was both heart-wrenching and inspiring in many ways. There were probably 300 people there, and at least half of them were friends of his. He had a ton of friends, friends who clearly loved him very much. The slide show playing before the service and the pictures that were everywhere through the funeral home spoke of a little boy who was deeply loved by his parents and siblings and who was surrounded by people who cared about him. I don't think there was a dry eye in the place as his "crew" of friends (just like my dh's in high school) came up one by one to tell a (clean) story about him. Clearly he was quite a character and kept his parents on his toes--full of mischief and just fun to be around. Over and over I heard person after person from all over his life, from the headmaster of the school he attended in middle and high school to his neighborhood and college friends to his own family saying that he had an incredible laugh and was kind and generous to an extreme. I kept thinking that I hoped that these would be the kinds of things that people might all say about my own children when they are his age.
Even though I didn't know him, my reaction came deeply from being a parent myself. And what struck me so deeply was that I have no idea what made him feel that he had no other way to find peace, but no matter how "mischievous" a child might be, no matter how many sleepless nights he might bring his parents, hundreds of hurting people sitting there tonight were a loud, strong testament that parents, siblings, family, friends--they are resolutely and absolutely not better off without this person here with them. And it also brought home to me that the kids who stand out, for whatever reason, whether it's because they find all kinds of mischievous trouble or have the zany ideas or are always thinking of others and perhaps not covering their own ass--they're the ones that we all remember and just love. It made me reaffirm that no matter what my kids do, no matter how "difficult" their teen years might be, no matter how much they may end up standing out in whatever way, they are still deeply, wildly loved and I hope that they will constantly know that. Judy, Tony, and the rest of their family were such manifestations of that kind of love.
My resolution after tonight is that I know it isn't entirely realistic, but I want to live with my children in a way that I would have no regrets. If, God forbid, their lives were cut short for some reason, I want to feel like I have given my best with them and have been kind and forgiving and loving. I want to always see them as the gift that they are, perhaps as an imperfect gift, as a gift that will surely give me many more sleepless nights and worries and trials, but as something entrusted to me for a limited amount of time (no matter what, they will one day not be under my primary care). I also hope to bring more patience to this job of parenting. I can't expect it to be easy, but it's so important to keep your eyes on the big prize--that you love these people more than anything, that the more "character" they have, perhaps the even more lovable they are, and I want them to know that. It was just a very sobering week processing something that was both not so close to me and yet so very close to all of our lives.
I am seeing such a change happening lately with Walter and Ollie. It's also sobering. I can easily say things like, "Oh, they are more than halfway to leaving home now," or "It's been longer since they've been born since when they will be in college," or "Only a little over 5 years until they have a learner's permit!" But really, they are becoming people we can do things with. Tonight we played real Scrabble for the first time. They needed a lot of help this time around, especially because their spelling skills aren't that great, but there they were playing. They can play Trivial Pursuit if the game is multi-leveled. We can play Risk and Stratego and highly competitive games of Monopoly. I can start thinking about Ollie reading the history books I get for myself (today I used my B&N gift certificate and got a National Book Award winner about the Dust Bowl and that Pulitzer winning _Founding Brothers_). It's exciting, but it also makes me realize that it might not be long before they are going to be far more their own people and probably less open to my agendas. They are starting to be responsible enough to look after siblings while we're home and busy. They can change diapers, put clothes on toddlers, and help make their own food. I know that the whole point of parenting is to help them become independent people, but it is hard to accept that those formative years, the primary time of influence from me is rapidly coming to its conclusion. Have I done enough? Have I harmed them for life? Have I fulfilled my obligations? Have I done the best job that I could have?
We also did most of the work making the four model rockets we bought this week tonight. The original plan was to launch at a different site from the last one we did, where we lost both of our rockets, so I let them get some more very small, high flying ones. Now it turns out that the new location is going to be locked this week, so we are back at the old spot. I'm afraid that Ollie's little "Hi Flier" and Walter's wee little "Gnome" are going to never be seen again. I made sure that Rutledge and Frances's rockets were larger and less lofty, since I'd like to bring a bit of our investment home with us for once! This also made me eschew some of the choices that had things like a helicopter propellor to bring back the nose cone separate from the rocket, which comes down by parachute (how much do you want to bet that we'd come home with a nose-less rocket?) or the one that had two space shuttles that come off the sides and 'glide' back to earth. Simple was the name of the game for me. I also decided that there were going to be no badges given out for choosing a kit with a Skill Level higher than 1 and that no one was going to banish me to the Space Loser Camp if we got ones that required no sanding, painting, or complex construction at all. Here's our progress so far: the Pencil, the Gnome, the Hi Flier, and the Chrominator.
This is what my van looks like. People are always climbing over seats, changing positions to be near someone or away from someone. And Rutledge is almost always screaming about something. The grumpy face here is one of his old standbys: "I want Toke! Give me Toke!" (That's Coke, for those who actually pronounce their /k/ sounds.) The big outing today was to B&N to use our gift certificates from Grandma. Ollie got The Hobbit on audio CD, a Monk book (from Monk the TV show), and an Elvis cookbook. I got two history books and the Percy Jackson series--yeah, I know it's a kid's book, but I want to read all of them myself. I still have quite a bit left on my card. Rutledge got a counting book featuring dogs, a Kumon cutting book and a mazes book, and a stuffed gold dragon. Walter got Marley and Me and I can't remember what else. And Frances got an American Girl kit where you design t-shirts for your doll and a hairstyling kit with a blond wig with pink and blue hair extensions. She has been saying lately that she wants long hair. I don't know...whaddya think? Given that she yanked out a whole pile of that hair with a brush when she got home, I'm not sure it's such a great idea.
I've always loved finding these kinds of photos when I download things from my camera. We get the typical pictures of people's fingers or the roof of the minivan, but then there are these fascinating little photo shoots:
Poor Bilbo in his jail.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Frances claimed she has never flown a kite, which I'm not sure is true. But at any rate, yesterday morning was beautiful and windy, so it was a perfect time to go out to the playing field across from us with a kite. Unfortunately, it was late afternoon by the time I found string, so the day wasn't quite so beautiful, and it was starting to sprinkle and I was getting a weather pressure change migraine at that point. But Frances and Rutledge had a super time.
Then there was today:
I'm Nancy, and I'm an emetophobe. I recently found an absolutely fabulous resource on the web about emetophobia, and I am so thrilled to hear that I am not alone. Check out http://emetophobia.bravepages.com/emetophobia.html. It was like reading a biography of myself!
* At the grocery store, the emetophobic may verge on obsessive-compulsive, carefully examining each of a dozen oranges going into the bag (they might actually wash those oranges before eating them too); reaching back in the cooler to get "colder" items; hounding the deli personnel for certain items to be selected or cut; and our favorite, hand-washing following a visit to the meat department.
*Dietary restrictions are universal among emetophobics. Most emetophobics have a list of foods they won't eat because they suspect them of being likely carriers of food poisoning; many avoid other foods because they associate them with a childhood episode of vomiting. Since most food poisoning is caused by unsanitary preparation rather than tainted food, phobics are roundly meticulously hygenic cooks. (Easiest way to lose an emetophobic? Lick the spoon while cooking.)
(Yeah! It gave me particular pleasure today to throw out salad dressings that were out of date and to know that at least for a while, all food in my fridge is going to be new and in tip-top condition. Let's not get into my list of requirements for seafood or my fear of deviled eggs or my terror of spaghetti or how I don't like to eat things in red sauces in winter...)
* Nearly all emetophobics report being unable to care for their children and other family members when those people fall ill. Some will sleep in another room when a family member is ill. (Well, duh. Kerry is sleeping downstairs right now with the sick child, while I'm sitting on my sheet-less bed because I'm washing my sheets for the fourth time this week. Only once was my bed actually thrown up on. I'm washing now because people who were going to become sick later or who were sick a day ago touched my bed.)
* It is not unusual for emetophobics to have a particularly stringent set of criteria for eating out. Some avoid restaurants altogether. Some will order an entree but will never eat from a buffet or salad bar. Some claim to have a 6th sense that tells them not to eat in a particular restaurant. (Would Nancy go to a Mongolian barbecue place? Do I tend to prefer chain restaurants, especially when I'm traveling and don't know about the reputation of a local place?)
* Nearly all emetophobics avoid water travel; some refuse to fly as well, and a few even stay out of land vehicles. (Ask me if I want to go on a cruise...)
* Although more common in children, emetophobics frequently have superstitions about their trigger event or subsequent times they vomited. being anxious even about the day of the week they vomited, or the month, even blocking out pleasant memories of a year in which they vomited. (But look, it's not a superstition if I really do have a house full of vomiting people in the week between Christmas and New Years! I also mark the date of October 19th, February 18th, and February 26th.)
* Emetophobia affects career choice as well, with many otherwise-qualified (and perhaps even interested), intelligent sufferers eschewing fields that they see as high-risk for vomiting, such as health care, the military, teaching, laboratory research, aviation, and space. (Since I was very young, I've always wanted to go to medical school. I still regret it! But as my mother always said, "You can't get to be a doctor if you are afraid of people throwing up." I wonder if that's true...)
With all this said, this has been a very trying week for me. My fear is that I'm going to vomit, so while I don't really appreciate seeing/hearing other people vomit, I am increasingly able to deal with it without rushing out the door and hopping a plane to another country (okay, the plane part is a little extreme because people sometimes vomit on planes, and that wouldn't be good...). There was last Monday, when Frances threw up five times. And last Sunday, when Rutledge coughed until he threw up on himself in the car in Hampton (I did insist--in the form of driving the car away from the restaurant we were pulling into--that we go directly home, but I was able to be in the vehicle without undue fear). And yesterday, when one of my greatest fears happened. I was in the shower with a head full of shampoo when I heard Kerry say, from the bedroom adjoining, "Are you going to throw up" and then a hulaballoo of running around. I screeched out, "Don't come in here!" And thankfully he didn't. It terrifies me to no end to think that I could be in a bathroom showering or brushing my teeth and someone could come rushing in and throw up. Thankfully, there were no other episodes yesterday, though he was feverish and lethargic all day. And then today, I could see the telltale signs in Ollie. We were out at Chick-Fil-A when Ollie decided that he couldn't really eat more than two fries and didn't want the Coke he had begged for. I rushed him home, and so far, so good. He's not eating, and he says he's really cold, but it's been many hours, and nothing worse yet. This was the pattern for the two others, though. The night before, they mentioned a vague stomach ache and then didn't eat, or they didn't eat, but then later said they were hungry, I fixed them something, and they only took two bites. Then 15 hours later they threw up. I'm trying not to freak out, but I'm just really ready for this to be over.
But this isn't our only drama. Oh no! I forgot to mention that on the day after Christmas, I received a call from the police saying that our totaled van had been broken into. The aftermarket stereo was stolen, and perhaps a Home Depot credit card (now cancelled). That's kicking you when you're down!
But the real drama had to do with the fridge. Kerry has had a cold, so he can't smell or taste anything, but I thought that the water from the fridge tasted terrible yesterday, and so did Ollie. I finally decided that I was, indeed, losing it and that it was just me. Then this morning, when I got up at, get this, 10:30 and went downstairs, I found that the water was not only still tasting awful, but was warm. I started to make myself some toast and when I opened the fridge to get some jelly, I discovered that the bag of yeast that I touched was warm...very warm. And that it smelled very, very bad in there. And that all kinds of substances were dripping. You have to understand that the fridge was crazy full, so there was a lot of stuff to drip, including pounds and pounds of butter. There were things whose lids had been knocked off kilter that ended up oozing and spilling around (gravy...ewww). I started filling garbage bag after bag, and then realized that I needed to dump out all of the condiments and other things that were weighing so much and I should recycle them. More than an hour later, I had about 30 bottles and jars on the counter, my garbage disposal was working overtime (gotta love 78 degree mayonnaise, pickle cubes, maraschino cherries, a one pound jar of minced garlic, and oily blueberry vinaigrette salad dressing all floating in a 6 inch high soup of water in the sink and not going down). Then I had to bleach out the entire fridge, which had such lovely problems as 78 degree gravy dripped on a light bulb. All of the crisper drawers had to come out, everything had to be bleached and cleaned. For whatever reason, the fridge saw fit to adjust its temperature to 78 degrees, even though it was set to 37. Who knows what happened, but it was $130 to get it diagnosed and will be over $300 for the part. The repair guy looked at our FUBAR dishwasher as well, and that just needs to be replaced. It no longer lets us change any settings--the control panel is completely non-responsive. What's sad is that it is only about 3.5 years old. He said that this model has had incredible troubles and we aren't alone. And Maytag is now out of business. I know why. (This is actually a Jenn-Air, but is owned by Maytag). Not a happy day for appliances in our house.
The very clean, but offending appliance in our family after the icky bailout. And the darn thing has gotten back down to 38 degrees mysteriously tonight while we await the $300 part. Sigh....
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