While I can only direct this at the women of the building, I would guess that it’s probably appropriate for the men, too.
If you use the last piece of toilet paper, replace the roll! I think there are like 8 extra rolls of toilet paper in each stall, and the toilet paper roll mechanism isn’t all that hard to operate – it’s probably JUST like the one you have at home. I don’t think we could make it any easier for you.
Let’s be courteous here, kids. We’re not 5 any more.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
i know my husband will be a great dad
This morning, I left on a bus trip to go home for Thanksgiving - 4 days in advance of my husband.
Before we left to go to the bus terminal, my husband made a peanut butter sandwich for me; washed an apple and put it in its own little bag; added a cereal bar; and then folded up a napkin and put it with everything else. The napkin was the best part. It was almost like there was a little note included in my lunch bag - have fun today, I love you.
Before we left to go to the bus terminal, my husband made a peanut butter sandwich for me; washed an apple and put it in its own little bag; added a cereal bar; and then folded up a napkin and put it with everything else. The napkin was the best part. It was almost like there was a little note included in my lunch bag - have fun today, I love you.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
companies like EPT and FirstResponse relish in making it difficult to read your home pregnancy test
Because of past problems with pregnancies, our doctor prescribed progesterone AS SOON AS we had a positive home pregnancy test. He went as far as giving us a prescription so we could just fill it.
From June through August, we did everything to make filling that prescription worthwhile. On July 1, we were treated to a definite no. On July 31, we had a 6-mile run, followed by a delicious breakfast and another definite no. As we prepared for our vacation to Canada at the end of August, I thought it would be a good idea to take a home pregnancy test to see if progesterone was something we should pack - home test was a definite no with high levels of frustration. No progesterone in the luggage, but plenty of tampons and stuff for when we got another definite no.
So off we went to Canada ... sure that no additional people were involved.
We had a lovely drive (rainy, but lovely). We stayed at a lovely B&B. We had a lovely day in a park. We had wonderful food. We had a lovely (LONG) bike ride. It was during the bike ride that we noticed things were a little off.
After riding in one direction for about an hour, we turned around and headed back to a town that had a little cafe about 300 m from the trail we were on. We devoured our delicious sandwiches and then ordered dessert. My husband got strawberry shortcake, and when it came out I began to smell the delicious dessert -- "They used Bisquik to make the biscuits instead of shortcake." Another sniff. "The whipped cream is homemade, and they put vanilla in it."
My husband: "Super smeller!"
Me: "Oh my god! Super smeller!"
Then I did some math. That home pregnancy test may not have been as accurate as we thought.
Between the super smeller and the bad math, I started making plans for a home pregnancy test when we returned to our home state -- not home. Our home state. We rerouted our trip home to stop by a Target. We ran inside, and I grabbed a home pregnancy test. I ran to the checkout and made my purchase -- "no bag necessary. Thanks."
I took my purchase into the bathroom, peed on the stick, put the lid on and stuffed it back in the box. Washed hands (singing the alphabet, using the paper towel to shut off the faucet and open the door) and went back to the lobby where my husband was waiting.
Husband: So?
Me: I didn't look at it! I wanted to do this together. {start pulling the test back out of the box}
Husband: Wait, this is very public.
Me: Ok, let's go out to the car. {run out to parking lot}
Husband: {pulling me off to the side just on the sidewalk} Here's good.
Me: {pulling test out of the box} What the hell does that mean?
Husband: What? {as I examine a stick with too many lines on it, my husband pulls the instructions out and starts trying to figure out what we're looking at.}
So, here's the thing. You know that commercial where they say "1 in 4 women misread home pregnancy tests"? Now I know why. We have spent months looking at home pregnancy tests that go like this: pee on the stick, vertical control line turns blue/pink, vertical positive indicator line turns blue/pink (or not, which we also had a couple of) as indicator window moistens. What I purchased at Target that day was a test that went like this: pee on stick, vertical control line turns blue, blue horizontal line ALREADY EXISTS ON TEST in indicator window (I didn't notice because I was in such a damn hurry), indicator window moistens and another vertical line appears. What the hell is the horizontal line about? I totally didn't get it. Then my husband pointed out the pictures for comparison.
The horizontal line was meant to combine with the second vertical line to make a PLUS sign when you're pregnant, and it's supposed to be a MINUS sign when you're not. Why do they have to complicate things? Two lines = yes, one line = no. What's so hard about that?! Why add a third frikkin' line? Oh no, we have to be clever and make it "easier to read." I'm thinking a bunch of men who aren't fathers are in charge of making the tests "easier to read."
Just to be clear, this reaction was what we thought about AFTER the following conversation:
Husband: Oh my god, it's positive.
Me: We did it!
Husband: We did it! {happy couple leans in for a smooch} This is still very public.
So there it was, we found out about the latest grandchild in the parking lot at Target.
Sorry kiddo.
From June through August, we did everything to make filling that prescription worthwhile. On July 1, we were treated to a definite no. On July 31, we had a 6-mile run, followed by a delicious breakfast and another definite no. As we prepared for our vacation to Canada at the end of August, I thought it would be a good idea to take a home pregnancy test to see if progesterone was something we should pack - home test was a definite no with high levels of frustration. No progesterone in the luggage, but plenty of tampons and stuff for when we got another definite no.
So off we went to Canada ... sure that no additional people were involved.
We had a lovely drive (rainy, but lovely). We stayed at a lovely B&B. We had a lovely day in a park. We had wonderful food. We had a lovely (LONG) bike ride. It was during the bike ride that we noticed things were a little off.
After riding in one direction for about an hour, we turned around and headed back to a town that had a little cafe about 300 m from the trail we were on. We devoured our delicious sandwiches and then ordered dessert. My husband got strawberry shortcake, and when it came out I began to smell the delicious dessert -- "They used Bisquik to make the biscuits instead of shortcake." Another sniff. "The whipped cream is homemade, and they put vanilla in it."
My husband: "Super smeller!"
Me: "Oh my god! Super smeller!"
Then I did some math. That home pregnancy test may not have been as accurate as we thought.
Between the super smeller and the bad math, I started making plans for a home pregnancy test when we returned to our home state -- not home. Our home state. We rerouted our trip home to stop by a Target. We ran inside, and I grabbed a home pregnancy test. I ran to the checkout and made my purchase -- "no bag necessary. Thanks."
I took my purchase into the bathroom, peed on the stick, put the lid on and stuffed it back in the box. Washed hands (singing the alphabet, using the paper towel to shut off the faucet and open the door) and went back to the lobby where my husband was waiting.
Husband: So?
Me: I didn't look at it! I wanted to do this together. {start pulling the test back out of the box}
Husband: Wait, this is very public.
Me: Ok, let's go out to the car. {run out to parking lot}
Husband: {pulling me off to the side just on the sidewalk} Here's good.
Me: {pulling test out of the box} What the hell does that mean?
Husband: What? {as I examine a stick with too many lines on it, my husband pulls the instructions out and starts trying to figure out what we're looking at.}
So, here's the thing. You know that commercial where they say "1 in 4 women misread home pregnancy tests"? Now I know why. We have spent months looking at home pregnancy tests that go like this: pee on the stick, vertical control line turns blue/pink, vertical positive indicator line turns blue/pink (or not, which we also had a couple of) as indicator window moistens. What I purchased at Target that day was a test that went like this: pee on stick, vertical control line turns blue, blue horizontal line ALREADY EXISTS ON TEST in indicator window (I didn't notice because I was in such a damn hurry), indicator window moistens and another vertical line appears. What the hell is the horizontal line about? I totally didn't get it. Then my husband pointed out the pictures for comparison.
The horizontal line was meant to combine with the second vertical line to make a PLUS sign when you're pregnant, and it's supposed to be a MINUS sign when you're not. Why do they have to complicate things? Two lines = yes, one line = no. What's so hard about that?! Why add a third frikkin' line? Oh no, we have to be clever and make it "easier to read." I'm thinking a bunch of men who aren't fathers are in charge of making the tests "easier to read."
Just to be clear, this reaction was what we thought about AFTER the following conversation:
Husband: Oh my god, it's positive.
Me: We did it!
Husband: We did it! {happy couple leans in for a smooch} This is still very public.
So there it was, we found out about the latest grandchild in the parking lot at Target.
Sorry kiddo.
Monday, November 8, 2010
mistaken identity day
Mondays are usually weird, but today was especially strange.
First, I went to a training that someone else in the office signed me up for. As it turns out, the class was full, and he didn't acutually sign ANYONE up for it. Fortunately, two people who had signed up didn't show, so the instructor said, "stick around and if they don't come, you're fine.".
During the training, I had 4 phone calls from two different people - two calls from Direct TV for Meredith Marshall and two calls for Chris Mitchell from somewhere in CT. WTF?
Did I fall back too far yesterday and end up in some parallel universe?
First, I went to a training that someone else in the office signed me up for. As it turns out, the class was full, and he didn't acutually sign ANYONE up for it. Fortunately, two people who had signed up didn't show, so the instructor said, "stick around and if they don't come, you're fine.".
During the training, I had 4 phone calls from two different people - two calls from Direct TV for Meredith Marshall and two calls for Chris Mitchell from somewhere in CT. WTF?
Did I fall back too far yesterday and end up in some parallel universe?
Sunday, October 31, 2010
anthem will make this a high-risk pregnancy
On a Saturday, I received a card from Anthem saying, "enroll in the future moms program, it's easy. Call {some number}." So I called, and got at least 2 different prompts telling me to call the emergency room if I had a medical emergency, I should hang up and dial 9-1-1; one prompt that was in Spanish, so I don't know what it was telling me to do; one prompt asking if I wanted to enroll in a program and ZERO prompts telling me that I needed to speak my answer and not push a button. I ultimately figured out how to tell it that I wanted to enroll in a program, and I ended up at the 24-hour nurse hotline (by the way, when I called the 24-hour nurse hotline because I WAS having what could potentially be a medical emergency, they didn't answer).
So, the nurse answers by saying, "this is the 24-hour nurse hotline. Are you experiencing a medical emergency {brief pause during which I try to say, "no"} such as chest pains...
Me: No, NO, NO! Not a medical emergency. Anthem sent a card saying "it's easy to enroll. I just want to enroll in this program. You're the nurse hotline, it's not your job to enroll me in this program. This is the hardest call I've had to make all day.
Nurse: Why is it hard?
Me: Because the card says it's easy to enroll, and I have had to fight my way through lists of prompts and questions about whether or not this is a medical emergency.
Nurse: Well, the programs are open Monday through Friday.
Me: Ok, so it's easy Monday through Friday, but not on the weekend.
Nurse: Well, it's Sunday.
Me: Right. Still the weekend.
My husband had to calm me down. Pretty sure the baby needed to be calmed down, too.
So, the nurse answers by saying, "this is the 24-hour nurse hotline. Are you experiencing a medical emergency {brief pause during which I try to say, "no"} such as chest pains...
Me: No, NO, NO! Not a medical emergency. Anthem sent a card saying "it's easy to enroll. I just want to enroll in this program. You're the nurse hotline, it's not your job to enroll me in this program. This is the hardest call I've had to make all day.
Nurse: Why is it hard?
Me: Because the card says it's easy to enroll, and I have had to fight my way through lists of prompts and questions about whether or not this is a medical emergency.
Nurse: Well, the programs are open Monday through Friday.
Me: Ok, so it's easy Monday through Friday, but not on the weekend.
Nurse: Well, it's Sunday.
Me: Right. Still the weekend.
My husband had to calm me down. Pretty sure the baby needed to be calmed down, too.
it's only a gift if you don't have to listen
Last year for Christmas, my sister-in-law decided that the best possible Christmas gift for my mom was Susan Boyle's CD "I Dreamed a Dream." (If you don't know about Susan Boyle, she's the one who was on Britain's Got Talent and stood up there all frumpy and church lady and BLEW the socks off all the judges and everyone who saw it on YouTube). As it turns out, my sister-in-law was absolutely right. My mom put that disk in the the CD player, and it was played housewide for the entire two-week Christmas break. Great gift for Mom, very very painful gift for the rest of us.
I didn't fully realize how insipid "Wild Horses" was until the CD started (that's right, she opened with "Wild Horses") and I heard Susan Boyle drag that song out for nearly 5 minutes.
"Wiiiiiiiiiiiiild horses {breath} couldn't draaaag me aweeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. Wild wildwildwildwildwildwild horses {breath} couldn't drag me aweeeeay."
Then this morning, I saw on Amazon that she has a new disk (just in time for Christmas) called "The Gift." We know what happened when the last one was a gift ... we had to listen to it a thousand times!
As I waited for my computer to load the list of songs that were actually on "The Gift," my husband made some suggestions about what "The Gift" may include. In anticipation for what we will likely be subjected to during this year's holiday festivities, he gave a short medley of what he expected Susan to come up with this year:
"What is it? The best of the 80's?
"I'm huuuuuungry like the wooooooooooooooooooolf.
"I coooooome from a land down undeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer.
"Now whip iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. Whip it gooooooooooooooooooooooooood {accompanied by Spanish guitar}.
"Taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake oooooooooooooooooooooon meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Taaaaaaaaaake oooooooooooooon meeeeeeeeeee." (ok, that might actually work out well for her.)
As it turns out (I finally found better details for the disk), "The Gift, sees Susan Boyle and world acclaimed producer Steve Mac reunited to present a breathtaking seasonal album. Featuring yule time favourites ‘The First Noel’ and ‘O Holy Night’, Susan also fearlessly takes on iconic pop songs including ‘Don’t Dream It’s Over’ and ‘Perfect Day’ giving them a new identity."
Ok, first of all, who taught this guy how to use commas?
Second, I can't imagine that dragging out "Don't Dream It's Over" for another five minutes counts as fearlessly taking on iconic pop songs. Unless they mean "fearlessly taking on" as in "she has a machete and she's not afraid to use it."
Anyone who purchases this "seasonal" album will have to first get through Susan doing Lou Reed's "Perfect Day." Then there are a couple of Christmas-esque songs (I think "Hallelujah" counts as Christmasy), and then the listener is hit with "Don't Dream It's Over." Really?
Amazon hasn't given us samples yet, so I can only imagine: "Hey nooooooooooooooooooooow, hey nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow, don't dreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeam it's ooooooooooooover. Heynowheynowheynowheynow, when the world comes iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin."
All I can say is: "The Gift" better not be a gift at our house this year.
I didn't fully realize how insipid "Wild Horses" was until the CD started (that's right, she opened with "Wild Horses") and I heard Susan Boyle drag that song out for nearly 5 minutes.
"Wiiiiiiiiiiiiild horses {breath} couldn't draaaag me aweeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. Wild wildwildwildwildwildwild horses {breath} couldn't drag me aweeeeay."
Then this morning, I saw on Amazon that she has a new disk (just in time for Christmas) called "The Gift." We know what happened when the last one was a gift ... we had to listen to it a thousand times!
As I waited for my computer to load the list of songs that were actually on "The Gift," my husband made some suggestions about what "The Gift" may include. In anticipation for what we will likely be subjected to during this year's holiday festivities, he gave a short medley of what he expected Susan to come up with this year:
"What is it? The best of the 80's?
"I'm huuuuuungry like the wooooooooooooooooooolf.
"I coooooome from a land down undeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer.
"Now whip iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. Whip it gooooooooooooooooooooooooood {accompanied by Spanish guitar}.
"Taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake oooooooooooooooooooooon meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Taaaaaaaaaake oooooooooooooon meeeeeeeeeee." (ok, that might actually work out well for her.)
As it turns out (I finally found better details for the disk), "The Gift, sees Susan Boyle and world acclaimed producer Steve Mac reunited to present a breathtaking seasonal album. Featuring yule time favourites ‘The First Noel’ and ‘O Holy Night’, Susan also fearlessly takes on iconic pop songs including ‘Don’t Dream It’s Over’ and ‘Perfect Day’ giving them a new identity."
Ok, first of all, who taught this guy how to use commas?
Second, I can't imagine that dragging out "Don't Dream It's Over" for another five minutes counts as fearlessly taking on iconic pop songs. Unless they mean "fearlessly taking on" as in "she has a machete and she's not afraid to use it."
Anyone who purchases this "seasonal" album will have to first get through Susan doing Lou Reed's "Perfect Day." Then there are a couple of Christmas-esque songs (I think "Hallelujah" counts as Christmasy), and then the listener is hit with "Don't Dream It's Over." Really?
Amazon hasn't given us samples yet, so I can only imagine: "Hey nooooooooooooooooooooow, hey nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow, don't dreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeam it's ooooooooooooover. Heynowheynowheynowheynow, when the world comes iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin."
All I can say is: "The Gift" better not be a gift at our house this year.
Monday, October 18, 2010
easy lover
Somehow "Easy Lover" became the song of the day at our house. Ok, not SOMEHOW. I was talking about a person named Phil Bailey, and my husband started singing "Easy Lover," which he later pointed out was NOT, in fact, Genesis but Phil Bailey FEATURING Phil Collins.
My husband is probably one of only three people who know this - the two Phils being the other two...
My husband is probably one of only three people who know this - the two Phils being the other two...
Monday, September 27, 2010
my favorite story from .4
This conversation started when .4 and I were picking each others' noses while waiting for GrammaNora to pump gas, and I offered him a Dunkin' Donuts napkin.
.4: Daddy and I went to Dunkin' Donuts for breakfast.
Me: What did you have?
.4: Um, chocolate donut. And Daddy had cinnamon.
Me: What did you get to drink?
.4: Um, milk. Daddy had chai.
Me: You should tell GrammaNora when she gets back in the car.
Then GrammaNora got back in the car, and before she could even shut the door:
.4: Daddy and I went to Dunkin' Donuts for breakast. I had chocolate donut and Daddy had cinnamon. I drank milk and Daddy drank chai.
Ok, so it wasn't that coherent, but I could totally tell what he was saying, and it was awesome.
.4: Daddy and I went to Dunkin' Donuts for breakfast.
Me: What did you have?
.4: Um, chocolate donut. And Daddy had cinnamon.
Me: What did you get to drink?
.4: Um, milk. Daddy had chai.
Me: You should tell GrammaNora when she gets back in the car.
Then GrammaNora got back in the car, and before she could even shut the door:
.4: Daddy and I went to Dunkin' Donuts for breakast. I had chocolate donut and Daddy had cinnamon. I drank milk and Daddy drank chai.
Ok, so it wasn't that coherent, but I could totally tell what he was saying, and it was awesome.
two quick things on how cute my husband is
1. He called a few minutes ago to make sure I wasn't at a building that is being evacuated.
2. He has instituted pregnant lady parking at our house.
2. He has instituted pregnant lady parking at our house.
Friday, September 17, 2010
worst week ever!
It's hard to blog about life and not blog about work in an attempt to, I don't know, not get fired, but I have to say that this week is currently holding first place (of the 52 I have worked in my current job thus far) as worst.
An email exchange with my boss resulted in a final email that included the words "see you in my office as soon as" and a conversation with my boss that started, "that response was totally out of character for you." It's never a good week when you get called into the boss's office, especially when "out of character" means writing an email that is clearly dripping with venom.
Someone else in the department decided that he was going to play communications department this week and work with a reporter without ever bothering to involve me in the process other than to provide contact information for other companies. Then he gives me this line about, "I don't know how we're not able to do this for the reporter." Um, I think the answer is, I don't talk to other companies' press people, I talk to the press!
But the thing I hate most about this week is that I forgot the anniversary of the day I met my husband. He is the most wonderful person in the whole world - he even brought me a warm quilt fresh out of the drier last night when I got home from work at 8:30 in the cold rain (that's a 12 1/2 hour day!). He's awesome, and I forgot our anniversary, so I'm decidedly NOT awesome.
Anyway, happy anniversary handsome husband. Thanks for making even my worst weeks still ok.
An email exchange with my boss resulted in a final email that included the words "see you in my office as soon as" and a conversation with my boss that started, "that response was totally out of character for you." It's never a good week when you get called into the boss's office, especially when "out of character" means writing an email that is clearly dripping with venom.
Someone else in the department decided that he was going to play communications department this week and work with a reporter without ever bothering to involve me in the process other than to provide contact information for other companies. Then he gives me this line about, "I don't know how we're not able to do this for the reporter." Um, I think the answer is, I don't talk to other companies' press people, I talk to the press!
But the thing I hate most about this week is that I forgot the anniversary of the day I met my husband. He is the most wonderful person in the whole world - he even brought me a warm quilt fresh out of the drier last night when I got home from work at 8:30 in the cold rain (that's a 12 1/2 hour day!). He's awesome, and I forgot our anniversary, so I'm decidedly NOT awesome.
Anyway, happy anniversary handsome husband. Thanks for making even my worst weeks still ok.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
chocolate sans martha
I have not had a Dove chocolate treat since sometime in February. You may recall that back in February, Dove chocolate treats had Martha Stewart's suggestions for an even happier and more romantic Valentine's day than you could ever plan on your own.
Imagine my surprise when I was given a Dove chocolate treat from a bag that had no mention of Martha whatsoever - how am I going to plan a happier and more romantic Columbus Day without Martha's easy tips and inspiring reminders?
But it's ok because Dove has returned to inspirational sayings - and even better, these are submitted by real people! They have to be great because they are derived from real experiences! They're real inspiration from real people, not some guy who actually applied for the job of being inspirational via chocolate (my guess is his resume includes "Hallmark card writer" and "Televangelist" - I don't want his BS on my chocolate).
From Josie in Little Rock, AR - "Enjoy the miracle of friendship."
Inspirational ... I feel as though I should send a card to all of my beautiful friends ... or post something on facebook ...
Wait a minute ... is Josie telling me it would be a miracle if I had friends? That I should count my blessings for the few people who actually return my phone calls and emails? How the hell many friends do you have, Josie? (And facebook friends don't count.)
I thought Dove chocolate was supposed to inspire confidence and happiness! Frikkin' Dove. Frikkin' Josie.
Imagine my surprise when I was given a Dove chocolate treat from a bag that had no mention of Martha whatsoever - how am I going to plan a happier and more romantic Columbus Day without Martha's easy tips and inspiring reminders?
But it's ok because Dove has returned to inspirational sayings - and even better, these are submitted by real people! They have to be great because they are derived from real experiences! They're real inspiration from real people, not some guy who actually applied for the job of being inspirational via chocolate (my guess is his resume includes "Hallmark card writer" and "Televangelist" - I don't want his BS on my chocolate).
From Josie in Little Rock, AR - "Enjoy the miracle of friendship."
Inspirational ... I feel as though I should send a card to all of my beautiful friends ... or post something on facebook ...
Wait a minute ... is Josie telling me it would be a miracle if I had friends? That I should count my blessings for the few people who actually return my phone calls and emails? How the hell many friends do you have, Josie? (And facebook friends don't count.)
I thought Dove chocolate was supposed to inspire confidence and happiness! Frikkin' Dove. Frikkin' Josie.
Monday, August 30, 2010
dancing our days away
My family digs dancing. Weddings are our favorite events because we get to dance. We're not so sure that's a good thing.
Every wedding (or event with DJ and dance floor) must have the Pennsylvania Polka, Hang on Sloopy (O-H-I-O!), and YMCA.
For that matter, my parents' house has a Pennsylvania Polka played by GranmmaNora pretty much every time we have a family get-together.
.3 looks like he learned to dance from Grover on Sesame Street. The arms go side to side, the steps go side to side.
.4 does a mean touchdown dance (although, he and his nose learned that socks and hard wood floors don't mix during a good touchdown dance).
My husband's happy dance is done anywhere, wearing anything (usually underpants). It involves a wide stance, index fingers pointing up, and a little head bob.
My middle brother and I have broken lamps, lost shoes, and showed off underwear while swing dancing.
Life doesn't get any better than a good dance.
Every wedding (or event with DJ and dance floor) must have the Pennsylvania Polka, Hang on Sloopy (O-H-I-O!), and YMCA.
For that matter, my parents' house has a Pennsylvania Polka played by GranmmaNora pretty much every time we have a family get-together.
.3 looks like he learned to dance from Grover on Sesame Street. The arms go side to side, the steps go side to side.
.4 does a mean touchdown dance (although, he and his nose learned that socks and hard wood floors don't mix during a good touchdown dance).
My husband's happy dance is done anywhere, wearing anything (usually underpants). It involves a wide stance, index fingers pointing up, and a little head bob.
My middle brother and I have broken lamps, lost shoes, and showed off underwear while swing dancing.
Life doesn't get any better than a good dance.
Monday, August 23, 2010
eat pee floss
I resent flossing. When I started asking my various care providers (dentisi' hygienist, optometrist) that we were trying to have a baby, they told me what I had to do to keep my teeth/gums/eyes healthy during pregnancy. For teeth and gums, the most important thing was "floss...every day.". So when I found out I was pregnant I flossed every day. I dragged my pregnant, tired butt out of bed on nights that I forgot - those who know how I am about naptime and bed time know that this is no small thing. Skipping a day, which I am wont to do when I'm not pregnant, was not an option.
So today when I went for my semi-annual cleaning, I had to decide where to draw the line when my hygienist got on my case MULTIPLE times about not flossing enough. Do I tell her I resent flossing? Do I tell her that I resent flossing because, despite the fact that I flossed every day, I still lost my baby (twice)? Ultimately, I decided not to share that particular reason with the hygienist. I just promised to floss more regularly and made an appointment for 6 months from today.
GrammaNora provided some good advice in response: Eat, pee, floss. Just because things went badly (twice) doesn't mean I can stop taking care of myself.
So today when I went for my semi-annual cleaning, I had to decide where to draw the line when my hygienist got on my case MULTIPLE times about not flossing enough. Do I tell her I resent flossing? Do I tell her that I resent flossing because, despite the fact that I flossed every day, I still lost my baby (twice)? Ultimately, I decided not to share that particular reason with the hygienist. I just promised to floss more regularly and made an appointment for 6 months from today.
GrammaNora provided some good advice in response: Eat, pee, floss. Just because things went badly (twice) doesn't mean I can stop taking care of myself.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
I need a tent ... right now.
The majority of people who have heard this story have responded by saying, "yeah, when you have kids you won't be able to do that anymore." Well, you negative nellies, we won't need to because we'll already have everything we need when we finally make the baby thing work!
Here's the story:
My husband and I have been grousing pretty much all summer about how we don't go camping. "I used to go camping all the time when I was a kid," he says. "Why don't we ever go camping?"
I'm with him. The idea of camping and being outdoorsy sounds really good to me, especially because when we have kids, we won't be able to do that anymore (at least that's what my friends tell me). We even went as far as purchasing two new mummy sleeping bags a few weeks ago. We are now ready to sleep outside in temperatures as low as 20 degrees F.
So last night, I am online trying to decide what I should use the amazing power of the internet for when it dawns on me ... we can't control the fact that we don't have children yet, and we can't control the fact that our jobs are crazy, but we can friggin' go camping! So, I go to the state website and start looking for good campsites in a part of the state that puts us close to the airport so we can pick up my parents when they come up for Labor Day weekend. I hope they don't mind riding in the car next to happy, stinky campers.
We spent a good amount of time deciding what campsite would be best considering the location and other sites, and we finally had reservations for Thursday and Friday night. Now all we needed was a tent - that's right, we made campsite reservations for a "tent-only" site and we don't even have a tent.
The good news is, we live within 30 minutes of a 24-hour supplier of goods such as tents. So last night at 9:21, we climbed into our cars (story about dropping off my car at the mechanic isn't really a good story), dropped my car off at the mechanic, then headed to the store. Man that was a good time!
We found the tent we wanted on the grass outside the store and climbed in and actually tried it out. It's fantastic. Roomy. If we ever do make the kid thing work, the kid will fit in the tent! I would say that this particular tent purchase means we CAN do this when we have kids (you negative nellies!). It was great. We were even able to find other items we needed AND be home before midnight.
Crazy, you say? Well, who's crazier, the people who go to the store to buy a tent late at night, or the store that's open so people can go buy a tent late at night? (that said, man, do I ever love that store!)
Here's the story:
My husband and I have been grousing pretty much all summer about how we don't go camping. "I used to go camping all the time when I was a kid," he says. "Why don't we ever go camping?"
I'm with him. The idea of camping and being outdoorsy sounds really good to me, especially because when we have kids, we won't be able to do that anymore (at least that's what my friends tell me). We even went as far as purchasing two new mummy sleeping bags a few weeks ago. We are now ready to sleep outside in temperatures as low as 20 degrees F.
So last night, I am online trying to decide what I should use the amazing power of the internet for when it dawns on me ... we can't control the fact that we don't have children yet, and we can't control the fact that our jobs are crazy, but we can friggin' go camping! So, I go to the state website and start looking for good campsites in a part of the state that puts us close to the airport so we can pick up my parents when they come up for Labor Day weekend. I hope they don't mind riding in the car next to happy, stinky campers.
We spent a good amount of time deciding what campsite would be best considering the location and other sites, and we finally had reservations for Thursday and Friday night. Now all we needed was a tent - that's right, we made campsite reservations for a "tent-only" site and we don't even have a tent.
The good news is, we live within 30 minutes of a 24-hour supplier of goods such as tents. So last night at 9:21, we climbed into our cars (story about dropping off my car at the mechanic isn't really a good story), dropped my car off at the mechanic, then headed to the store. Man that was a good time!
We found the tent we wanted on the grass outside the store and climbed in and actually tried it out. It's fantastic. Roomy. If we ever do make the kid thing work, the kid will fit in the tent! I would say that this particular tent purchase means we CAN do this when we have kids (you negative nellies!). It was great. We were even able to find other items we needed AND be home before midnight.
Crazy, you say? Well, who's crazier, the people who go to the store to buy a tent late at night, or the store that's open so people can go buy a tent late at night? (that said, man, do I ever love that store!)
Sunday, August 15, 2010
fusion cuisine a la GrammaNora (courtesy of .3)
My brother reminded me this weekend of a common occurrence in our household as we were growing up ... our mom's fusion cuisine.
wisegeek.com says
I can tell you two things about GrammaNora's version of fusion cuisine(then and now): it definitely blends something, and there probably isn't an audience in any metropolitan area (culturally diverse or not) for this food. The dinner table wasn't really ever an accepting audience, anyway.
The problem with the "blending" was usually that it was "of anything in the refrigerator." For those of you thinking that this was a busy mom with no time to get to the grocery store - a melding of leftovers is a trick for lots of moms -- you have never seen GrammaNora read a cookbook. Not consult . . . read.
She analyzes them. She looks at how they enhance her knowledge so that she can use them to do something with the knowledge she already has. As an example: "Ah yes, cacciatori. I know the taste of cacciatori, and I know the flavor of pasta, which is the recommended bed for the cacciatori. Those are two delicious flavors. I see here that chicken cacciatori is the commonest form of cacciatori, but what about this. Instead of chicken, what about SALMON?!"
It's intelligent. It's inspired. It's usually NOT delicious.
wisegeek.com says
Fusion cuisine blends the culinary traditions of two or more nations to create innovative and sometimes quite interesting dishes. It tends to be more common in culturally diverse and metropolitan areas, where there is a wider audience for such food.
I can tell you two things about GrammaNora's version of fusion cuisine(then and now): it definitely blends something, and there probably isn't an audience in any metropolitan area (culturally diverse or not) for this food. The dinner table wasn't really ever an accepting audience, anyway.
The problem with the "blending" was usually that it was "of anything in the refrigerator." For those of you thinking that this was a busy mom with no time to get to the grocery store - a melding of leftovers is a trick for lots of moms -- you have never seen GrammaNora read a cookbook. Not consult . . . read.
She analyzes them. She looks at how they enhance her knowledge so that she can use them to do something with the knowledge she already has. As an example: "Ah yes, cacciatori. I know the taste of cacciatori, and I know the flavor of pasta, which is the recommended bed for the cacciatori. Those are two delicious flavors. I see here that chicken cacciatori is the commonest form of cacciatori, but what about this. Instead of chicken, what about SALMON?!"
It's intelligent. It's inspired. It's usually NOT delicious.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
you can talk to family
We were just talking the other day about how my husband has had a little bit of trouble fully integrating into the Grapes family. It took my sister-in-law awhile, but we eventually pulled her in, and now everything is fine. My husband just isn't there yet.
Like this evening. We had met up with some friends for dinner, and after dinner, we decided to go to Cold Stone Creamery for dessert. There were two cars involved in the excursion because we were leaving to go home after dessert, and everyone else was going somewhere different. By way of coordinating, this was the conversation from our car (ok, there may be a little revisionist history here, but this is how it felt):
Me: Could you please ask my sister-in-law if she is going to feed m-A here or if she is going to wait until we get to ice cream.
Husband: Sure {rolls down window} um, excuse me, um, Kate, your sister-in-law, who happens to be sitting here next to me ... in the car ... um ... was wondering if uh ... ok, this question is from her ... just to be clear, she asked the question ... under normal circumstances, I would NOT be asking you this question, in fact, the status of your ... uh ... and ... uh ... Kate wanted to know if your plan is to ... uh ... m-A ... uh ... I ... uh ... Kate.
Me: Husband, are you hyperventilating.
Husband: Oh, so, they've put her in her car seat, so obviously, they're just going to go straight there.
Me {leaning across Husband}: Sister-in-law, you're not going to feed her now, are you?
Sister-in-law: No. We're heading over right now.
How hard was that?
Like this evening. We had met up with some friends for dinner, and after dinner, we decided to go to Cold Stone Creamery for dessert. There were two cars involved in the excursion because we were leaving to go home after dessert, and everyone else was going somewhere different. By way of coordinating, this was the conversation from our car (ok, there may be a little revisionist history here, but this is how it felt):
Me: Could you please ask my sister-in-law if she is going to feed m-A here or if she is going to wait until we get to ice cream.
Husband: Sure {rolls down window} um, excuse me, um, Kate, your sister-in-law, who happens to be sitting here next to me ... in the car ... um ... was wondering if uh ... ok, this question is from her ... just to be clear, she asked the question ... under normal circumstances, I would NOT be asking you this question, in fact, the status of your ... uh ... and ... uh ... Kate wanted to know if your plan is to ... uh ... m-A ... uh ... I ... uh ... Kate.
Me: Husband, are you hyperventilating.
Husband: Oh, so, they've put her in her car seat, so obviously, they're just going to go straight there.
Me {leaning across Husband}: Sister-in-law, you're not going to feed her now, are you?
Sister-in-law: No. We're heading over right now.
How hard was that?
Friday, August 6, 2010
donuts in a pizza box
I wish I could say that it is not my fault that we have two dozen donuts at home. Two dozen donuts divided among 1 pastry bag (2 donuts), 1 pastry box (7 donuts), and 1 pizza box (15 donuts). Alas, I cannot.
Actually, two dozen donuts "at home" is inaccurate. One donut was shared between .3 and .4 immediately upon purchase while we waited for m-A to eat. One donut was shared among the two suckers who got stuck in the way back during a 20-minute drive (ha! we got to eat a donut, who are the suckers now?!). Five donuts were devoured upon our arrival home - and when I say devoured, I mean four people stood around the various boxes and bag and cut little pieces out of 5 different donuts until all 5 donuts were gone. The overall scene could be compared to a piranha attack, but at one moment during the attack, I walked into the kitchen to see three backs huddled over donuts. When I said something, three sugar-crazed faces turned to look at me, pieces of donut poised at varying stages of being eaten. I backed slowly out of the kitchen and answered the phone.
I cannot judge, here. The final donut was eaten piece by piece over the course of an hour as I did homework: Read a section, get up, walk to kitchen, eat small piece of donut, return to table, repeat.
So the correct number is 16. Sixteen delicious donuts - 1 in 1 pastry bag, 3 in 1 pastry box, and 12 in 1 pizza box - for breakfast tomorrow ... and dessert tonight ... and probably dinner-prep snack. Who am I kidding - those donuts are never going to see sunrise.
mmmmmmm...2 dozen donuts.
Sorry, family.
Or maybe, you're welcome.
Actually, two dozen donuts "at home" is inaccurate. One donut was shared between .3 and .4 immediately upon purchase while we waited for m-A to eat. One donut was shared among the two suckers who got stuck in the way back during a 20-minute drive (ha! we got to eat a donut, who are the suckers now?!). Five donuts were devoured upon our arrival home - and when I say devoured, I mean four people stood around the various boxes and bag and cut little pieces out of 5 different donuts until all 5 donuts were gone. The overall scene could be compared to a piranha attack, but at one moment during the attack, I walked into the kitchen to see three backs huddled over donuts. When I said something, three sugar-crazed faces turned to look at me, pieces of donut poised at varying stages of being eaten. I backed slowly out of the kitchen and answered the phone.
I cannot judge, here. The final donut was eaten piece by piece over the course of an hour as I did homework: Read a section, get up, walk to kitchen, eat small piece of donut, return to table, repeat.
So the correct number is 16. Sixteen delicious donuts - 1 in 1 pastry bag, 3 in 1 pastry box, and 12 in 1 pizza box - for breakfast tomorrow ... and dessert tonight ... and probably dinner-prep snack. Who am I kidding - those donuts are never going to see sunrise.
mmmmmmm...2 dozen donuts.
Sorry, family.
Or maybe, you're welcome.
Monday, July 26, 2010
the science experiment
Scientific method is a simple concept:
I was never very good at this in junior high science class, but I get it now.
Scientific method in practice at the Grapes household:
- Ask a Question
- Do Background Research
- Construct a Hypothesis
- Test Your Hypothesis by Doing an Experiment
- Analyze Your Data
- Draw a Conclusion
- Communicate Your Results
I was never very good at this in junior high science class, but I get it now.
Scientific method in practice at the Grapes household:
- Question: was the UTI home test strip I just used too old to be accurate?
- Background Research: the bottle says they expired in 2008, and it's 2010. Symptoms of a UTI include frequent and urgent needs to urinate and burning sensation during urination. I may old test strips that give Me a positive result, but I also have those symptoms.
- Hypothesis: if just anyone pees on the test strip and it turns bright purple then the strip is too old to provide an accurate result (or we BOTH have UTIs).
- Experiment to Test Hypothesis:
Me: husband, can you come pee on this?
Husband: what?
Me: I need you to pee on this.
Husband: ok. (sidenote: I love that this was his answer.) - Analyze Data: mine was bright purple, my husband's was pee colored.
- Conclusion: the test strip works fine and I have a UTI.
- Communicate Your Results: hi, Dr. P, where do I go to get a UTI treated on a Saturday morning?
Sunday, July 25, 2010
why not?
When my dad was traveling a lot for work, it meant a lot of late night trips to the airport for a dad pick-up.
A particular favorite pick-up was the time Noel "Paul" Stookey walked off the plane ahead of my dad.
GrammaNora: Paul Stookey was on the plane with you!
Grandpa: yes.
GrammaNora: did you sing the zoo song?
Grandpa: no.
GrammaNora: why not?
Grandpa: Honey...
Later at the baggage claim:
GrammaNora: there he is again. Should I ask him if he wants to sing the zoo song?
Grandpa: Honey... No.
GranmmaNora: oh, come on.
Grandpa: let's go, I need to get some dinner.
Even later at Wendy's:
GrammaNora: Paul Stookey's here! It's fate! I have to do it.
Grandpa: oh, god.
GrammaNora, but not to Grandpa: I have this urge to sing the zoo song.
Paul (of Peter, Paul and Mary): well, why don't we?
Both (in perfect harmony): mama's takin' us to the zoo tomorrow, zoo tomorrow, zoo tomorrow. mama's takin' us to the zoo tomorrow and we can't stay all day.
A particular favorite pick-up was the time Noel "Paul" Stookey walked off the plane ahead of my dad.
GrammaNora: Paul Stookey was on the plane with you!
Grandpa: yes.
GrammaNora: did you sing the zoo song?
Grandpa: no.
GrammaNora: why not?
Grandpa: Honey...
Later at the baggage claim:
GrammaNora: there he is again. Should I ask him if he wants to sing the zoo song?
Grandpa: Honey... No.
GranmmaNora: oh, come on.
Grandpa: let's go, I need to get some dinner.
Even later at Wendy's:
GrammaNora: Paul Stookey's here! It's fate! I have to do it.
Grandpa: oh, god.
GrammaNora, but not to Grandpa: I have this urge to sing the zoo song.
Paul (of Peter, Paul and Mary): well, why don't we?
Both (in perfect harmony): mama's takin' us to the zoo tomorrow, zoo tomorrow, zoo tomorrow. mama's takin' us to the zoo tomorrow and we can't stay all day.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
mix tapes
When we were kids, long car trips were regular occurrences. A couple hours to get out the cottage. A couple days to get to get to the Adirondacks.
When we were kids, long car trips had music in the form of Grandpa's mix tapes.
They went something like this:
When we were younger, we loved this. We sang along to everything with words - "Holiday ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAD, Holiday ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOad."
"Well it's AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALL Right, ridin' around in the breeze, well it's AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALL right, if you live the life you please."
But as we got older and learned how to make our own mix tapes, we were careful to balance ballads with the stuff that really rocked; allow for a transition from slow to fast; and keep a carefully timed, 3-second lapse between each song to ensure that the AMS worked on the tape deck (just in case we did want to rewind a song and listen to it twice). Never would we waste a precious moment of the allotted 45 minutes per side with the same artist, let alone repeating the same song!
As we got older, the purchase of a vehicle with CD player meant that you could use the back button to repeat a song. The advent of music downloads meant that you had the whole world of music at your fingertips. The repeats and wasted space was a thing of the past!
As we climbed into Grandpa's new Ford Excursion, and saw the CD player, we were overwhelmed with joy. The days of mix tapes have come to an end. Grandpa had made a CD.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand ... no.
We're not giving this man an i-pod.
When we were kids, long car trips had music in the form of Grandpa's mix tapes.
They went something like this:
- Holiday Road (from the National Lampoon's Vacation soundtrack)
- Holiday Road
- Chariots of Fire
- Chariots of Fire
- End of the Line
- End of the Line
- Gremlin's Theme
- Gremlin's Theme
When we were younger, we loved this. We sang along to everything with words - "Holiday ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAD, Holiday ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOad."
"Well it's AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALL Right, ridin' around in the breeze, well it's AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALL right, if you live the life you please."
But as we got older and learned how to make our own mix tapes, we were careful to balance ballads with the stuff that really rocked; allow for a transition from slow to fast; and keep a carefully timed, 3-second lapse between each song to ensure that the AMS worked on the tape deck (just in case we did want to rewind a song and listen to it twice). Never would we waste a precious moment of the allotted 45 minutes per side with the same artist, let alone repeating the same song!
As we got older, the purchase of a vehicle with CD player meant that you could use the back button to repeat a song. The advent of music downloads meant that you had the whole world of music at your fingertips. The repeats and wasted space was a thing of the past!
As we climbed into Grandpa's new Ford Excursion, and saw the CD player, we were overwhelmed with joy. The days of mix tapes have come to an end. Grandpa had made a CD.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand ... no.
- Holiday Road
- Holiday Road
- End of the Line
- End of the Line
- If I Had a Million Dollars
- If I Had a Million Dollars
- Holiday Road
We're not giving this man an i-pod.
complete lunatic or world's best dad?
So far, one of my most favorite stories of the next generation of Grapes is my nephew's love for large trucks and tractors, and the lengths to which my brother is willing to go to satisfy the truck and tractor cravings.
My brother (.3) will go running with my nephew (.4) and they will go past construction sites because they are filled with tractors, trucks, back-hoes and cranes. They may take a few laps around the block (despite inhalation of copious amounts of construction dust) in response to .4's pleas of "tractor 'dain, Daddy! Tractor 'dain!"
In his bedroom, .4 will hear the dump truck go by and will watch, enrapt, as the red truck inches slowly up the street, the men jumping off the back to pick up trash cans. "Dump truck 'dain!" Fortunately, the dump truck DOES come again, because once the trash is collected, it returns to collect the recycling.
Unfortunately, there is no repeat for the fire truck. "Fire truck 'dain, Daddy! Fire truck 'dain!"
.3: I don't know what to do? I feel so bad. I want him to see the fire truck again, because he just seems so sad. I almost want to start a fire so the fire trucks have to come back and stay for him.
I don't know. While arson is one route, maybe the better option would be to take your next run to the fire station.
My brother (.3) will go running with my nephew (.4) and they will go past construction sites because they are filled with tractors, trucks, back-hoes and cranes. They may take a few laps around the block (despite inhalation of copious amounts of construction dust) in response to .4's pleas of "tractor 'dain, Daddy! Tractor 'dain!"
In his bedroom, .4 will hear the dump truck go by and will watch, enrapt, as the red truck inches slowly up the street, the men jumping off the back to pick up trash cans. "Dump truck 'dain!" Fortunately, the dump truck DOES come again, because once the trash is collected, it returns to collect the recycling.
Unfortunately, there is no repeat for the fire truck. "Fire truck 'dain, Daddy! Fire truck 'dain!"
.3: I don't know what to do? I feel so bad. I want him to see the fire truck again, because he just seems so sad. I almost want to start a fire so the fire trucks have to come back and stay for him.
I don't know. While arson is one route, maybe the better option would be to take your next run to the fire station.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
that'll teach her
I was complaining to my husband about the way my boss responded to something today. I was so angry I wanted to quit - she acted like the work product I had turned in was a waste of her time, as well as proof that I'm the biggest moron ever to have worked for her.
Me: I seriously considered walking right out of the office.
Husband: no.
Me: yes. I was so insulted and angry.
Husband: I'm going to go in to her office and tell her 'you leave my gorgeous alone!'
Me: that might be kind of hard' she's out of town for the rest of this month and most of next month.
Husband: well... Then... I will leave a note.
He's such a good husband.
Me: I seriously considered walking right out of the office.
Husband: no.
Me: yes. I was so insulted and angry.
Husband: I'm going to go in to her office and tell her 'you leave my gorgeous alone!'
Me: that might be kind of hard' she's out of town for the rest of this month and most of next month.
Husband: well... Then... I will leave a note.
He's such a good husband.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
I'm 29
We ran a road race on Saturday, and I was 29.
I love this. I love 29.
On my 29th birthday, my (now) husband (then boyfriend) and I skipped work, went for a nice hike and went to Red Robin for lunch. When I went to the bathroom, my (now) husband told the waitress that it was my birthday.
Husband: It's my girlfriend's birthday.
Waitress: Oh, yeah, how old is she?
Husband: Twenty-nine.
Waitress: Right, "twenty-nine" {and she made quotes with her fingers!}
Husband: She's really twenty-nine.
Waitress: uh-huh.
It was fun to be 29 again.
inspired by chinese food
So my husband and I had just finished a DELICIOUS lunch of left-over Chinese food when my husband lets out a sleepy-eyed moan of pleasure and says, "If I could eat ONE thing for the rest of my life, it would be ...
mac and cheese."
Sorry General Tso, you and your buddy Pork-Fried Rice only made honorable mention -- like Top 5.
mac and cheese."
Sorry General Tso, you and your buddy Pork-Fried Rice only made honorable mention -- like Top 5.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
a relaxation exercise
Allow your breath to become relaxed and even. Inhale - fill your lungs. Exhale - release the stale air. Relax.
Relax your toes.
Relax your feet.
Relax your ankles and legs. Your hips, your lower back.
Relax your fingers and hands.
Relax your arms.
Relax your shoulders.
head shoulders knees and toes, knees and toes. Head shoulders knees and toes, knees and tooooooooooooooooes...
Oh, sorry.
Relax your abdomen and ribs.
Relax your chest.
Relax your shoulders.
I said relax your shoulders.
Do it, now.
Relax them. Relax your shoulders!
GODDAMMIT! RELAX YOUR SHOULDERS!
WHY AREN'T YOU RELAXING? GOD! EVERYONE JUST CALM DOWN! JUST FRIGGIN' CALM DOWN.
You look like you're holding your breath. Why are you holding your breath? I told you to inhale AND exhale.
EXHALE!
Relax your toes.
Relax your feet.
Relax your ankles and legs. Your hips, your lower back.
Relax your fingers and hands.
Relax your arms.
Relax your shoulders.
head shoulders knees and toes, knees and toes. Head shoulders knees and toes, knees and tooooooooooooooooes...
Oh, sorry.
Relax your abdomen and ribs.
Relax your chest.
Relax your shoulders.
I said relax your shoulders.
Do it, now.
Relax them. Relax your shoulders!
GODDAMMIT! RELAX YOUR SHOULDERS!
WHY AREN'T YOU RELAXING? GOD! EVERYONE JUST CALM DOWN! JUST FRIGGIN' CALM DOWN.
You look like you're holding your breath. Why are you holding your breath? I told you to inhale AND exhale.
EXHALE!
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
it's bastille day!
This is the 37th Bastille Day that my parents have celebrated as a married couple.
In 37 years, I wonder if my dad has ever threatened to wipe his butt with my mom's pillowcase. It only took my husband 14 months. To be fair, I had just wiped a booger on his arm.
37 years is a long time...
HAPPY 37TH ANNIVERSARY, PARENTS!!
In 37 years, I wonder if my dad has ever threatened to wipe his butt with my mom's pillowcase. It only took my husband 14 months. To be fair, I had just wiped a booger on his arm.
37 years is a long time...
HAPPY 37TH ANNIVERSARY, PARENTS!!
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
small vanilla cones
My mom and I stopped for ice cream today. This place is our FAVORITE. They have fantastic flavor combinations that you just have to eat every day, so we go all the time when we are at The Bay.
This week, one of their combinations was a blueberry/black cherry twist that was SO DELICIOUS that I have already had it three times (what rut?). For some reason, today I switched it up a little and ordered a small vanilla cone with crunch coat. This reminded me of a classic Grandpa moment.
When we used to drive home from the cottage, we would always want to stop a Dairy Queen. It didn't matter how soaking wet and cold we were from playing in the creek, we wanted ice cream. We would whine and carry on until we finally got to Dairy Queen and my dad would sigh and say, "All right, but you're all getting small vanilla cones." Then Mom would say, "Make mine a twist."
Dad: "Yes, and I'm getting a raspberry milkshake."
Kids: "Oh, I want a blizzard/mine with crunch coat/a large!"
Depending on how Dad was feeling (and to this day, I have no idea what swayed him one way or the other on any given drive home), we would end up with the ice cream of our choice or a small vanilla cone.
This week, one of their combinations was a blueberry/black cherry twist that was SO DELICIOUS that I have already had it three times (what rut?). For some reason, today I switched it up a little and ordered a small vanilla cone with crunch coat. This reminded me of a classic Grandpa moment.
When we used to drive home from the cottage, we would always want to stop a Dairy Queen. It didn't matter how soaking wet and cold we were from playing in the creek, we wanted ice cream. We would whine and carry on until we finally got to Dairy Queen and my dad would sigh and say, "All right, but you're all getting small vanilla cones." Then Mom would say, "Make mine a twist."
Dad: "Yes, and I'm getting a raspberry milkshake."
Kids: "Oh, I want a blizzard/mine with crunch coat/a large!"
Depending on how Dad was feeling (and to this day, I have no idea what swayed him one way or the other on any given drive home), we would end up with the ice cream of our choice or a small vanilla cone.
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