Triathlon season has begun. For Scott, of course, not this gelatinous glob, that would rather watch the ABC Family movie Beauty and the Briefcase that she DVRed last night.
And it was a great beginning, because we got to take the girls back to our alma mater - not that they cared. We hadn't been back together since Scott's brother Matt graduated 10 years ago. (It will be 14 years since my own graduation - which seems absolutely impossible, since I still tell people I'm 23. Not because I'm one of those women. Just because I honestly think I'm still 23.)
So Friday we set out for Oxford, OH and our beloved Miami U. (Could anybody be more in love with their college than I am?)
Let's back up, because the day started with Scott driving to court over an hour to the west of us. While I argued with the library that I had indeed turned in the case to Barbie's 12 Dancing Princesses DVD, I just hadn't realized the disc was still in the player. We were both successful.
Impressively, we were driving south together before 1 PM. A huge victory.
The devil's spawn only napped for a half hour - which was contrary to my evil genius plan - while Morgan conked out for a good hour or more. After which there was literally not one moment of silence.
Various activities included but were not limited to:
Zoe yelling Cock! COCK! COCK! every five seconds. (That's her word for truck. There are a lot of trucks on 71 South.)
Morgan giving us the minute by minute weather report. "It's raining! It stopped raining! The sun's out! The sun's gone! It's raining again!" Thank you, Al Roker.
At least 15 minutes of Happy Meal bliss when they unwrapped their dragon's which breathed fire.
Mommy's ipod random playlist built specifically for Morgan's enjoyment, including Paparazzi, Big Girls Don't Cry, and Party in the USA. (All of which Daddy sang along to at one point.)
You know how most things seem smaller when you get older? Well, Miami is actually bigger. And it is not a figment of our imagination. There are a ton more academic buildings and houses. The Uptown area has more apartments. And for some reason metered parking has extended to Saturday (which we found out by receiving a $10 ticket).
Another cause for feeling my age, technology. Every student walking down the sidewalk had a cellphone to their ear or their thumbs. I think the year I graduated some of my friends were starting to get them, but they were more akin to the Zach Morris monstrosity than today's. And you definitely were only talking on them. Add to that all the laptops humming away in the library study rooms. I borrowed my roommate's word processor to write my final thesis paper...History and Homer: Did the Trojan War Really Exist?
Anyway, despite all the new, we stuck to our comfort zone. We ate dinner at Mac & Joe's which has been there since my Grandma attended. It is an alley bar. So needless to say, walking in with a 2 and 5 year old, caused a few heads to turn. The next day was Bagel & Deli for lunch and Bruno's pizza for a snack (though they have raised the price to $1.50 a slice). I refused to get anything that said Redhawks on it (I'm a Redskin and I have the car decal to prove it).
We have pretty much convinced Morgan that she should go there, though she has given us the strict condition that we live there with her. We will happily ablige. All is right with the world when you hear the Beta Bells every fifteen minutes, see a dozen guys leave their house with beer cases cut into knightly helmets on their heads, and it takes you 10 minutes to make it 4 blocks because Uptown is so congested (thankfully, it's only 4 blocks long, so 10 minutes isn't so bad.)
Oh, and Scott came in 5th in his age group (somewhere between "getting old" and "almost too old to do this shit anymore"). 38th overall. Plus, on the way home (well, not really the way) we got to barge in on my roommate Allison that lives in Cincinnati.
Added bonus, Zoe soaked through her diaper (unknown to us) which caused about a twenty minute breakdown that almost had everyone in tears.
So perhaps my sentimentality has now bored you to tears. But if you were looking for someone that appreciates a good walk down memory lane...you now know I'm your girl.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
jd
So I missed my best-friend-since-fifth-grade's birthday.
It's not like it's a hard one to remember, seeing how it's on April Fool's Day. And seeing how my own daughter's birthday is five days later. But it seems I am constantly using my blog to wish belated birthdays and hoping that my fond recollections will somehow make up for my lack of innate timeline. So, to my best friend Gerri...
Thank you for being there in the back row of Mr. Burger's classroom.
Thank you for helping me sneak all those notes into Aaron Mahilo's locker.
Thank you for saving me my swing.
Thank you for taking basketball stats with me.
Thank you for not laughing at me for being a Falconette.
Thank you for appreciating the movie Meet Me in St. Louis.
Thank you for taking driver's ed with me.
Thank you for driving me to school every day after that.
Thank you for breaking up with Fletch for me.
Thank you for pulling barn duty with me at the fair.
Thank you for helping me establish the Laws of the Midway.
Thank you for pretending I'm half as bad-ass as you are.
And thank you for always being my friend, no matter how long it is in between our conversations and visits. (It's always too long, and I know that is my fault.)
Happy Birthday!
It's not like it's a hard one to remember, seeing how it's on April Fool's Day. And seeing how my own daughter's birthday is five days later. But it seems I am constantly using my blog to wish belated birthdays and hoping that my fond recollections will somehow make up for my lack of innate timeline. So, to my best friend Gerri...
Thank you for being there in the back row of Mr. Burger's classroom.
Thank you for helping me sneak all those notes into Aaron Mahilo's locker.
Thank you for saving me my swing.
Thank you for taking basketball stats with me.
Thank you for not laughing at me for being a Falconette.
Thank you for appreciating the movie Meet Me in St. Louis.
Thank you for taking driver's ed with me.
Thank you for driving me to school every day after that.
Thank you for breaking up with Fletch for me.
Thank you for pulling barn duty with me at the fair.
Thank you for helping me establish the Laws of the Midway.
Thank you for pretending I'm half as bad-ass as you are.
And thank you for always being my friend, no matter how long it is in between our conversations and visits. (It's always too long, and I know that is my fault.)
Happy Birthday!
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Stupid Is As Stupid Does
The definition of stupidity is repeating the same action over and over while expecting different results.
The definition of extreme stupidity is trying to spring clean your toddler's room while they're in it and expect them to NOT topple neatly stacked books, empty the basket of toys and remove every article of clothing from the drawers.
I begged. I threatened. Why did I not just stop? What harm could have come from waiting until Scott returned from his 18 mile run? (I'm pretty sure he took up training so he had less chance of hearing me say "Zoe, No.")
But I did it. First, it was the basket of stuffed animals that I had Morgan go through. "Can we give any of these toys away?" Unlike in her own room, where the 23 pooh-bears, and 14 penguins still take up valuable real estate, she became ruthless. The only things that remained were other various members of the Hundred Acre Wood and The Learning Puppy.
Sidebar: We have received no less the four Learning Puppies in the course of our parenthood, and damn if that thing isn't still the most annoying toy ever. No offense to the thoughtful gift bearers. Or barers. I have no idea.
No sooner had I moved to the play kitchen did I turn to find Pooh's buddies strewn across the floor. And may I mention that Zoe had never once played with those things before.
Once I get the pots, pans and spoons in their clever storage bin, I move to the four villages of Little People (Fisher Price, not TLC), only to find the devil's spawn has felt the urge to prepare a seven course meal.
Line up the shoes and take the trash out of the room. Return to mix-matched pairs on "babies", in the "sink", and going "night, night" in the crib (carefully covered with a blanket so they don't get a chill.)
I thought about letting the vacuum run so I could get everything in one place (the only thing Beelzebub fears), but figured that might cost me in later-year therapy. In the end, the room is clean. Maybe not great-grandma Feef clean, but good enough for this mom.
The definition of extreme stupidity is trying to spring clean your toddler's room while they're in it and expect them to NOT topple neatly stacked books, empty the basket of toys and remove every article of clothing from the drawers.
I begged. I threatened. Why did I not just stop? What harm could have come from waiting until Scott returned from his 18 mile run? (I'm pretty sure he took up training so he had less chance of hearing me say "Zoe, No.")
But I did it. First, it was the basket of stuffed animals that I had Morgan go through. "Can we give any of these toys away?" Unlike in her own room, where the 23 pooh-bears, and 14 penguins still take up valuable real estate, she became ruthless. The only things that remained were other various members of the Hundred Acre Wood and The Learning Puppy.
Sidebar: We have received no less the four Learning Puppies in the course of our parenthood, and damn if that thing isn't still the most annoying toy ever. No offense to the thoughtful gift bearers. Or barers. I have no idea.
No sooner had I moved to the play kitchen did I turn to find Pooh's buddies strewn across the floor. And may I mention that Zoe had never once played with those things before.
Once I get the pots, pans and spoons in their clever storage bin, I move to the four villages of Little People (Fisher Price, not TLC), only to find the devil's spawn has felt the urge to prepare a seven course meal.
Line up the shoes and take the trash out of the room. Return to mix-matched pairs on "babies", in the "sink", and going "night, night" in the crib (carefully covered with a blanket so they don't get a chill.)
I thought about letting the vacuum run so I could get everything in one place (the only thing Beelzebub fears), but figured that might cost me in later-year therapy. In the end, the room is clean. Maybe not great-grandma Feef clean, but good enough for this mom.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Irritable Bowels
The stomach bug that took up residence in the household has moved on...unfortunately to members of the extended family (6 new cases and counting), but hey, I'm done with it. Life is good. And I never threw up. YAY!
Let it be known that I have a very strong aversion to throwing up. I know most people don't enjoy it, but I pretty much live in fear of it. I'm convinced it stems from throwing up an entire spaghetti dinner that left a permanent stain on my bedroom carpet at age 6. I don't remember being particularly upset at the time, but the memory sticks with me just like that stain.
Unfortunately, I have a fairly strong gag reflex. I've been known to make myself nauseous while brushing my teeth, and I refuse to swallow anything larger than a regular Advil. My OB thought I was joking when I told her I was taking Flinstone chewable vitamins instead of the pre-natal prescription. I checked. Two Flinstones = One Pre-Natal. Tell your friends.
Other going concerns: watching other people puke, watching other people eat things that shouldn't be eaten, watching other people let things with more than four legs crawl on them, watching/hearing/reading about "bad things" happening to children (I will not be watching the movie "Precious based on the novel Push by Sapphire."), and green beans (also the cause of childhood vomit).
I can literally make myself sick, thinking about getting sick.
Exceptions to the rule:
1. In the college binge drinking days, I was remarkably not a puker.
2. Kid vomit and blood (not at the same time) do not bother me at all.
Let it be known that I have a very strong aversion to throwing up. I know most people don't enjoy it, but I pretty much live in fear of it. I'm convinced it stems from throwing up an entire spaghetti dinner that left a permanent stain on my bedroom carpet at age 6. I don't remember being particularly upset at the time, but the memory sticks with me just like that stain.
Unfortunately, I have a fairly strong gag reflex. I've been known to make myself nauseous while brushing my teeth, and I refuse to swallow anything larger than a regular Advil. My OB thought I was joking when I told her I was taking Flinstone chewable vitamins instead of the pre-natal prescription. I checked. Two Flinstones = One Pre-Natal. Tell your friends.
Other going concerns: watching other people puke, watching other people eat things that shouldn't be eaten, watching other people let things with more than four legs crawl on them, watching/hearing/reading about "bad things" happening to children (I will not be watching the movie "Precious based on the novel Push by Sapphire."), and green beans (also the cause of childhood vomit).
I can literally make myself sick, thinking about getting sick.
Exceptions to the rule:
1. In the college binge drinking days, I was remarkably not a puker.
2. Kid vomit and blood (not at the same time) do not bother me at all.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Just a Half a Cup, If You Don't Mind
Words Morgan Knows That Shocked the Hell Out of Me
Paleontologist -
"Steve is the Paleontologist on Dinosaur train. That means he knows all about dinosaurs. I like the dinosaurs that don't eat meat. The meat eating ones are mean."
"Eating meat, doesn't make them mean. You're a meat eater."
"I am?"
Mommy does not elaborate for fear of a hunger strike.
Composition -
After making a stack of stuffed animals that she doesn't want Zoe to knock down: "Let's have a game where we see who can look at the composition the longest without talking."
(This sounds suspiciously like one of Mommy's games.) Really? Composition? Maybe that school is worth it.
The Student Becomes the Teacher
"When we learned K, Miss Marilyn had a picture of an Orca, but I told her Orca doesn't start with K, and she said it was a Killer Whale, but I know it's an Orca and Killer Whale is the mean name for it."
Don't mess with my marine biologist, Lady.
Zoe Update
We went in to wake up Morgan and she points at Beluga and says "Boo Ga". It is possible that Morgan is brain washing her.
Paleontologist -
"Steve is the Paleontologist on Dinosaur train. That means he knows all about dinosaurs. I like the dinosaurs that don't eat meat. The meat eating ones are mean."
"Eating meat, doesn't make them mean. You're a meat eater."
"I am?"
Mommy does not elaborate for fear of a hunger strike.
Composition -
After making a stack of stuffed animals that she doesn't want Zoe to knock down: "Let's have a game where we see who can look at the composition the longest without talking."
(This sounds suspiciously like one of Mommy's games.) Really? Composition? Maybe that school is worth it.
The Student Becomes the Teacher
"When we learned K, Miss Marilyn had a picture of an Orca, but I told her Orca doesn't start with K, and she said it was a Killer Whale, but I know it's an Orca and Killer Whale is the mean name for it."
Don't mess with my marine biologist, Lady.
Zoe Update
We went in to wake up Morgan and she points at Beluga and says "Boo Ga". It is possible that Morgan is brain washing her.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Journey to Kindergarten - Chapter 1
Point 1
Today I got to go to Cleveland City Hall. Because apparently you need to have a "certified" birth certificate (redundant?) to register your child for kindergarten, and apparently hospitals don't send those to you automatically when your kids are born, and apparently you have to pay for them.
City Hall is one of Cleveland's historic buildings in the classic Greek/Roman style with columns and marble and sandstone, etc. So the metal detector and plywood security "desk" fit right along with the architectural aesthetic. (Don't get me wrong. I'm pro-metal detectors. I certainly don't want to be gunned down while waiting to write my check to the "Vital Statistics" department.)
Worse than the metal detectors are the 246 pieces of paper taped to walls, ropes, windows, chairs and ceilings. All imploring the citizens to fill out an application at one table and then stand between the ropes until the next employee is available. The paper is in various colors to make it interesting, or perhaps to help those with color blindness. One can only guess the number of people that still walk up to the window without a completed application.
Other signage reminds us that they very conveniently take debit and charge cards, but neither of these can be Visa.
Box of Crayons - $2
Backpack - $15
First Day of School Outfit - $25
Having Valid Paperwork for Kindergarten Registration - Priceless
And for those of you that didn't know, there are only two "vital statistics". Your birth and your death. And you will most likely never stand in line for your own "certified" certificate of either of these things.
Point 2
Upon returning, I got to talking with a co-worker about all the paperwork involved in this process and we started reminiscing about our own school transportation history.
K - I have absolutely no idea how I got to school!
1-2 - Walker. Set off with other members of St. Paul Lutheran Church (Reinharts, Stiwalds, and Bolkens). In order to not have to wait in the "walker" line, that wasn't released until all the buses were gone, Lara and I would sneak out the breezeway as the class made their way to the front of the school. Sometimes having to crouch below windows until we could bolt across the playground in the hopes that we wouldn't be spotted.
3-6 - Have moved to "the country" and our bus driver was Mrs Bursley. As her name implies, she was the meanest old biddy you could possibly imagine. If we weren't at the very end of our quarter mile driveway, she flew past us. Even if you knew she saw you running as fast as you could across gravel wearing a back pack, flailing your arms and screaming for her to stop.
7-8 - I have absolutely no idea how I got to school!
9 - Older brother in the POS "Goose" to school. In the afternoon, because my brother was a jock and always had practice for something, I took the bus. For all of high school I had Mrs. Bonnette. Who if I didn't make special care to say hello to as I boarded, she forgot I was there, and I would end up running down the aisle, "Mrs. Boonnneetttee!" In contrast to Mrs. Bursley, Mrs Bonnette would slam on the brakes and back the bus up the state route to my driveway. She was awesome and had the best laugh.
10 - I had the choice of dad dropping me off super early on his way to work or ride the bus. I chose early, and hung out with Justin Solomon (science teacher's son) until the rest of the school got there and I could pretend I didn't know him. (Just kidding, he was okay.)
11-12 - Gerri got her Mustang convertible that actually had a running mustang airbrushed across the front hood. Classic! Gerri turned 16 in April, but waited until the summer to take Driver's Ed with me, cause she's awesome (Or maybe her parents just didn't let her until then, I don't know.) We were in the same car with Nina Nunez and she was a way worse driver than me, but the instructor only made me cry. I'm pretty sure Gerri's the only one that got her own car out of the deal, but I was allowed the pleasure of driving the used beige Tempo to school my senior year.
I think riding the bus will be hard on Morgan at first. She notices instantly if, say, I go a different way to school, because I'm so zoned out I miss the turn on Bradley. And she's been known to argue with the driver of a vehicle that does not take the path she is expecting. "You're going the wrong way!" I can picture her very plainly, yelling at the bus driver.
Today I got to go to Cleveland City Hall. Because apparently you need to have a "certified" birth certificate (redundant?) to register your child for kindergarten, and apparently hospitals don't send those to you automatically when your kids are born, and apparently you have to pay for them.
City Hall is one of Cleveland's historic buildings in the classic Greek/Roman style with columns and marble and sandstone, etc. So the metal detector and plywood security "desk" fit right along with the architectural aesthetic. (Don't get me wrong. I'm pro-metal detectors. I certainly don't want to be gunned down while waiting to write my check to the "Vital Statistics" department.)
Worse than the metal detectors are the 246 pieces of paper taped to walls, ropes, windows, chairs and ceilings. All imploring the citizens to fill out an application at one table and then stand between the ropes until the next employee is available. The paper is in various colors to make it interesting, or perhaps to help those with color blindness. One can only guess the number of people that still walk up to the window without a completed application.
Other signage reminds us that they very conveniently take debit and charge cards, but neither of these can be Visa.
Box of Crayons - $2
Backpack - $15
First Day of School Outfit - $25
Having Valid Paperwork for Kindergarten Registration - Priceless
And for those of you that didn't know, there are only two "vital statistics". Your birth and your death. And you will most likely never stand in line for your own "certified" certificate of either of these things.
Point 2
Upon returning, I got to talking with a co-worker about all the paperwork involved in this process and we started reminiscing about our own school transportation history.
K - I have absolutely no idea how I got to school!
1-2 - Walker. Set off with other members of St. Paul Lutheran Church (Reinharts, Stiwalds, and Bolkens). In order to not have to wait in the "walker" line, that wasn't released until all the buses were gone, Lara and I would sneak out the breezeway as the class made their way to the front of the school. Sometimes having to crouch below windows until we could bolt across the playground in the hopes that we wouldn't be spotted.
3-6 - Have moved to "the country" and our bus driver was Mrs Bursley. As her name implies, she was the meanest old biddy you could possibly imagine. If we weren't at the very end of our quarter mile driveway, she flew past us. Even if you knew she saw you running as fast as you could across gravel wearing a back pack, flailing your arms and screaming for her to stop.
7-8 - I have absolutely no idea how I got to school!
9 - Older brother in the POS "Goose" to school. In the afternoon, because my brother was a jock and always had practice for something, I took the bus. For all of high school I had Mrs. Bonnette. Who if I didn't make special care to say hello to as I boarded, she forgot I was there, and I would end up running down the aisle, "Mrs. Boonnneetttee!" In contrast to Mrs. Bursley, Mrs Bonnette would slam on the brakes and back the bus up the state route to my driveway. She was awesome and had the best laugh.
10 - I had the choice of dad dropping me off super early on his way to work or ride the bus. I chose early, and hung out with Justin Solomon (science teacher's son) until the rest of the school got there and I could pretend I didn't know him. (Just kidding, he was okay.)
11-12 - Gerri got her Mustang convertible that actually had a running mustang airbrushed across the front hood. Classic! Gerri turned 16 in April, but waited until the summer to take Driver's Ed with me, cause she's awesome (Or maybe her parents just didn't let her until then, I don't know.) We were in the same car with Nina Nunez and she was a way worse driver than me, but the instructor only made me cry. I'm pretty sure Gerri's the only one that got her own car out of the deal, but I was allowed the pleasure of driving the used beige Tempo to school my senior year.
I think riding the bus will be hard on Morgan at first. She notices instantly if, say, I go a different way to school, because I'm so zoned out I miss the turn on Bradley. And she's been known to argue with the driver of a vehicle that does not take the path she is expecting. "You're going the wrong way!" I can picture her very plainly, yelling at the bus driver.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Kindergarten Information Night
Morgan will soon bless the public school system with her presence. To that end, we received a flyer stating that all parents should attend this Kindergarten Information Night, which should have been called Pick Up Your Information Packet Night, because really it was a 10 minute speech by the principal and then we were left to our own devices.
And said packet has more forms than it takes to incorporate your home business or adopt a third-world child.
There were little tables set up where you could ask specific questions. I had two, one of which I'm sure I could have looked up if I wasn't so lazy.
Question 1: If we live in zone A, this means she will be a PM student. If we live in between streets X&Y, she will be a "walker". But our daycare provider lives in zone C, which would make her an AM student and need to ride the bus. When Bus Delta and Walkers Charlie and Easy start out from Gamma Quadrant, what the hell do I do?
Answer: Fill out the form and they'll get back to you.
Question 2: What is the difference between a Daisy Scout and a Brownie?
Answer: Daisy Scouts are K and 1st grade. Brownie's are 2nd and 4th.
Learn something new every day. In my day, there were only Brownies and I went to one Brownie meeting. After finding out I would be forced to recite the pledge aloud, by myself, I decided the brown beanie and sash weren't as cute as previously suggested.
The rest of the time we got to spend walking around the Kindergarten rooms. Which, shockingly, pretty much look identical. And it's not like I could actually pick which room she would be in anyway.
Scott was busy checking off which parents were already ass-kissing the teachers to make sure Morgan doesn't make friends with their kids.
My best Kindergarten memories.
1. Anytime we got to watch a Letter People episode.
Come and meet the Letter People.
Come and meet the family.
Words are made with Letter People.
A, B, C, D...Follow me.
My favorites were Mr. Tall Teeth and Mr. Super Socks. I was annoyed that Miss Achoo sneezed all the time, so wasn't as cute. Really? Achoo? That's not even a word!
2. Show and Tell when I got to bring in my grandma's litter of puppies. Jake, Thelma Lou, and Mabel.
3. My mom and grandma came and did a puppet show for the class. At least I think they did. Maybe I'm making that up. I can't really remember what the puppet show was about. Or what the puppets look like. Weird. Brain...turning...to...mush.
And said packet has more forms than it takes to incorporate your home business or adopt a third-world child.
There were little tables set up where you could ask specific questions. I had two, one of which I'm sure I could have looked up if I wasn't so lazy.
Question 1: If we live in zone A, this means she will be a PM student. If we live in between streets X&Y, she will be a "walker". But our daycare provider lives in zone C, which would make her an AM student and need to ride the bus. When Bus Delta and Walkers Charlie and Easy start out from Gamma Quadrant, what the hell do I do?
Answer: Fill out the form and they'll get back to you.
Question 2: What is the difference between a Daisy Scout and a Brownie?
Answer: Daisy Scouts are K and 1st grade. Brownie's are 2nd and 4th.
Learn something new every day. In my day, there were only Brownies and I went to one Brownie meeting. After finding out I would be forced to recite the pledge aloud, by myself, I decided the brown beanie and sash weren't as cute as previously suggested.
The rest of the time we got to spend walking around the Kindergarten rooms. Which, shockingly, pretty much look identical. And it's not like I could actually pick which room she would be in anyway.
Scott was busy checking off which parents were already ass-kissing the teachers to make sure Morgan doesn't make friends with their kids.
My best Kindergarten memories.
1. Anytime we got to watch a Letter People episode.
Come and meet the Letter People.
Come and meet the family.
Words are made with Letter People.
A, B, C, D...Follow me.
My favorites were Mr. Tall Teeth and Mr. Super Socks. I was annoyed that Miss Achoo sneezed all the time, so wasn't as cute. Really? Achoo? That's not even a word!
2. Show and Tell when I got to bring in my grandma's litter of puppies. Jake, Thelma Lou, and Mabel.
3. My mom and grandma came and did a puppet show for the class. At least I think they did. Maybe I'm making that up. I can't really remember what the puppet show was about. Or what the puppets look like. Weird. Brain...turning...to...mush.
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