Weekend Stuff

The weekend ended with more rain. We had gotten 5.12 inches from Wednesday evening to Friday morning. Saturday and Sunday were pretty, but the rain started right after I filled the tank on the ride back from Winchester and the rain gauge collected another half inch over night.

Fern and her boyfriend and I went out to Winchester for my mom's art show reception. She didn't know we were coming, it was a nice surprise. My mom has been a member of the Blandy Sketch Group (not just for sketchers) for several years now and they have an annual show of members works.

Something has happened to Fern. I'm not complaining, I've just noticed. I think maybe her "terrible teens" years are over, or in remission. She's been pleasant, I've been getting hugs, she's not defiant, and she wanted to go to see her grandmother, whereas in the past, no way, "Grandma's weird…do we have to?" And, she wanted to take the BF with us. When we got home she said he had a good time and wanted to go back.

The rest of the weekend was boring, I got 5½ loads of laundry done (the other half load is still in the dryer). I got caught up on some of my shows on the DVR, but now have Amazing Race from last night to watch. I did watch a lot of the Ryder Cup over the weekend, too. Oh, speaking of golf, I bought a new set of woman's irons last weekend and tried them out on Saturday. Not good. I need to break them in before I play with them.

Maybe I'll try to post more often, work is in my busy season so no promises.

Weekend Round-up, Among OtherThings

I'm not usually one of those moms that dash off to the ER at the sight of blood, but when the sight of blood wasn't ending, I took The Boy in. I knew there was nothing to stitch up, since the edge of his left index finger was gone, but I knew I couldn't stop the bleeding by myself. He was cutting salami.

Dan was in Tampa for the weekend golfing with his friends.

I did a lot of laundry this weekend. The last load is in the dryer right now. It's the "everything else" load. Usually I pick through what is on the floor of the laundry room to make a load of like items, darks, pastels, colors, whites, towels. The "everything else" load is the stuff that falls through, the stuff that doesn't pass muster on previous sorting rounds. It's the load you hate to put away because it's usually a bunch of mismatched socks and shirts that are too small for your youngest child. You know. I'll have that load waiting for me tonight. Oh joy.

Lost is back tomorrow night after a nine-month hiatus. I gotta make sure the DVRs are set. Yes, both of them. I started a Lost marathon yesterday by rewatching season 5. This interrupted a Lois & Clark season 1 marathon and ended up being interrupted by watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days because we wanted to send it back to Netflix.

I found Season 1 of Lois and Clark on eBay for The Girl (and myself!) because I enjoyed it 16 years ago and thought she might like it, too. "Like it" turned out to be an understatement. She loves it and thinks Dean Cain is wonderful, gorgeous, and very good-looking. He was quite yummy in that show, wasn't he? I found Season 2 on eBay and she had that watched in a heartbeat. Now she's dying to have Seasons 3 and 4, but I can't find them as cheaply as I found 1 & 2 and I'm not willing to pay $61 per season at Borders, or even $40 at Amazon. She'll get her homework done and I'll keep looking for bargains online.

I've had 21 Girl Scout vests to work on this month. I didn't think my stack would ever diminish, but it's down and I now have only four to go, then it's back to personal sewing/quilting. Yay.

The quilt retreat is coming up at the end of next week so I've made a list of projects to take with me. It's a small list, only ten or twelve things. Sheesh. I probably ought to take my ritalin with me so I can stay focused and not get overwhelmed. And get stuff done. There are three guys in my office whose wives are due with babies and I've promised them all baby quilts. Silly me. The nice thing about baby quilts is that you can make them small and no one will complain.

I ordered a portable sewing machine table with some birthday and badge-sewing money. It should be here in time for the retreat. This new table will make it easier to do machine quilting at retreat, where it was impossible before because the table was not flush with the bed of the sewing machine.

Since I haven't had a proper blog post in a while, I'd better stop here. I can't give away all my secrets at once, and, I still have real work to do even though the crush is (almost) past.



 

I'm not sure what shocked me more

In a moment of purging and recycling, I decided I would give away my wedding dress. I figured:

1. I wasn't ever going to wear it again.
2. I was never going to fit into it again.
3. It's not that stunning so Fern probably wouldn't want to wear it.
4. I didn't want to even come close to making Fern feel guilty for not wanting to wear it.

So I thought I'd look into one of those charitable organizations that collect special occasion dresses for women who need them.

Last weekend Dan was away on a golfing trip to Florida, the kids were occupied elsewhere, and there was a Say Yes to the Dress marathon on TLC. I cozied up and watched six or eight episodes back to back.

Say Yes is a reality show set in Kleinfelds in NYC where all types of brides with their mothers/sisters/fiances/fathers come in to find "the dress" with budgets between $1500 and $15,000. I'm not sure why I'm drawn to this show, but I am. Maybe it's the audaciousness of the brides or the conflict of opinions within the entourage, dunno. Somewhere in all of that, Fern appeared and watched with me. We critique the dresses: too much lace, too plain, nice beading, ugly neckline, good train, makes her butt look big, etc.

After a while I confess to her I'm planning on giving away my dress and I explain why. She says, "Can I try it on?" "Sure," I say. We release it from the almost-20 years of dry-cleaning plastic it's been hiding in.

I had my dress made for me from an ivory cotton damask. It has a classic "ballroom" silhouette (stuff you learn by watching such a show) but has full-length lace sleeves attached under the arm, a zillion buttons up the back, and has large bows adorning the bodice and the train.

So Fern tries it on and I get many, but not all, the buttons done, just enough to keep it on. I spread out the train and there she was. Beautiful.

I'm not sure what shocked me most: the fact it nearly fit her, I'm just a couple inches taller than she is, (was I really that skinny!?) or that she doesn't want me to give it away. "Mom, we can just take off the lace sleeves and the bows, and it's beautiful."

I love it when she surprises me like that, it's fun.

The thing I learned today

Whenever my grandfather saw me he'd ask, "What did you learn today?" And I had to tell him. It was a good exercise. He died 17 years ago this month. My nickname for him was Doc-doc Buddy, or just Doc-Doc. (He was a doctor, did you guess that?) I still miss him. But I digress.

Fern is not being the model student these days. She has taken "missing assignments" to new lows, dropping a 95 average on tests to something a lot lower when you factor in zeros for homework grades. Her teachers are more than happy to email progress notes to me, but usually they only remember when I email them first, easier for them to reply that way. They are busy and I understand that. That means I'm the one who needs to remember to write them first.

So, being a programmer, I learned how to program a cron job to email them once each week so I don't have to remember myself. This is the code:

00 12 * * 5 (echo "This is an automated weekly email to check how Fern is doing in your class this week.";echo;echo "Thanks,"; echo "Anne";)|/bin/mail -s "Fern" teachers@middleschool.org

So, what this does is send an email every Thursday at noon to her teachers that says:

This is an automated weekly email to check how Fern is doing in your class this week.

Thanks,
Anne

Pretty cool, huh?

What did you learn today?

Happy

I'm sitting here at my computer at work surrounded by sounds of clanging and thumping. My neighbors are packing for the move, I'm not. I get to stay put, read blogs and "play" on my lunch hour.

---

I took some pictures of Fern at her ice skating competition on Sunday. My Dad came out to see her skate too and took lots of shots with his Nikon D3 and 200mm lens. I always knew the light in our ice arena is horrid and despite my camera my pictures are never that good, but I didn't see the evidence until I saw Dad's photos. He fired off about 100 shots before Fern even took the ice to get all his settings set. The pictures taken in some areas of the rink had a pink cast, other areas had a blue cast. He put a couple of the best ones up on his blog. I used an 85mm lens on my Nikon D50, did not correct for the conditions and got these:









Those ribbons are for first place in freestyle 4 program, freestyle 4 compulsories, second place in team jump and spin, and production team, and a third place in freestyle 4 interpretive.



Dad brought his 300mm lens for me to use. I found it too long for the rink, but I get to keep and play with it to experiment with different DOFs (depth of fields). Or is it "depths of field"?


 

When I Retire

When some people hear I'm a quilter, I often hear them say, "I want to quilt when I retire." I always think why wait? Sure you have more (theoretical) time when you retire, but it's a great stress reliever and you'd benefit from quilting now.

Over the last 40 years I've taken ceramics classes, a couple when I was a kid at the Huntington Gallery of Art, then one as an elective in college, and a few more at the local community college.

It's one of those loves I keep on the back burner, my dream is to have my own wheel and kiln one day and space enough for it all. I really really don't need another hobby, but I just love to play in the clay. I was never really good at it, I mean, good enough to enjoy it, but not good enough to pursue it as a primary livelihood. Now, I'm telling myself "...when I retire...."

Fern took ceramics classes at summer camps and enjoyed them a lot as well. So when I found out about a family ceramics class at the local park service art center, I signed us up. It's a short class, only three weeks, but long enough to try out the facility, meet the faculty, and see if I'd want to go back for a longer series of classes.

Yesterday was our first class. Fern harassed me for bringing my own bucket of tools I'd accumulated over the years, (you're a dork, Mom) but then found them useful when the time came. We made the traditional "pinch pot" first, then used the slab roller to create another piece. These are my pieces, I'm not sure what I'll use them for, tea cups or flower vases, but I had fun. It was so good to get my hands dirty again like that. Next week we will try out the wheel and the last week will be painting/glazing.

I found it interesting Fern told me she was telling herself not to compare her work with mine because I was older. She wanted to do well on her pieces on her own. I'm proud of her.

I already want to sign up for the adult class series which starts tomorrow, and there's even a space available in the class. But that means I'll be out every night of the week. Sigh. Maybe next time when I quit taking water aerobics...
 

Lost Weekend

He's a faker! OMG! He's such a faker! He's not even from Iraq.
No, Honey, he's an actor.
He's a faker!
He's an ac-tor.
Faker!
Actor.

The Girl is yelling at the TV. Or maybe me. I am watching the bonus features DVD for Lost Season 2 and she joins me part-way through. Naveen Andrews is talking on the screen about the show with a pristine British accent although he plays the Iraqi Republican Guard survivor on Lost. Also from London is Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje who plays a Nigerian crimelord-turned-priest. Later, Daniel Dae Kim, who speaks no English on the show, only Korean, speaks accent-free English in the bonus features. It's all quite jarring, especially if you've bought into all these characters, hearing then talk in their native tounge. The Girl is outraged. These people are fakers! No, they're actors. She storms out.

The Lost season 5 premier is January 21 so we've been watching the past seasons pretty much non-stop the past two weekends. She says her homework is finished... I even bought Season 4 yesterday, which The Girl had to break into right away even thought we hadn't even finished watching Season 3. She's so into it now, when the show premiered in 2004, it was too much for her, too gory, too adult. Now she's giddy, it'll be the best thing about next week.

Outwitting the Outwitter

I like chocolate milk. I have a hard time drinking it plain. I'll make a glass for myself and after I've finished my first gulp the glass disappears. My son also likes chocolate milk and believes any glass of milk in the house is meant for him. He'll finish any glass I've made for myself, he'll even take it right out of my hands mid-sip.

So I make two glasses and drink from of one of them. He takes it away. I pick up the other and start drinking it. Score one point for Mom.

He takes the new glass away from me and pours the remaining milk into his other glass.

Sheesh.
 

Rounding up November

Wow, I've got two weekends to round up. I'll try not to forget any of the good parts and summarize the boring bits.

In this Issue:

• Gadget Corner


• IEP Season


• He did What?


• Teen Drama


• Thanksgiving vs. Mendoza


• High Def Rain

Gadget Corner

A while back on John's blog he got a comment from a fellow trucker who runs. I checked out her blog and she had written about a GPS pedometer. Since I walk every morning I wanted one. I want to know how far I really walk and how fast. I was thinking the $150 model would suit me fine. When I didn't get one for my birthday I used the Costco coupon for $40 off the model they have and got the $300 model for $160. I'm loving it, it's a fun gadget. It draws a trail where I walk and beeps at me when I drop below a 15:20 mile, which happens a lot when the three of us talk too much in the mornings. I've logged over 27 miles so far and end up finishing the 3.06-mile loop in about 44 minutes. Not too bad.

IEP Season

For some reason they wanted to change Kevin's IEP schedule from spring to fall. So last Monday I went in and met with Kevin's team. It was actually the first time I'd met his current teacher because the one who started the school year quit. The meeting was lead by the head of the Special-Ed department and not the new teacher.

Most of the plan was the same as last year, but I didn't think they had enough math concepts covered so I had comparisons added (less than, greater than, before, after) as well as a component of measuring. I also inquired about shop class. Kevin loves to put things together and I think with some supervised instruction, he'd do well. I'd like him to transition from pictorial instructions to reading and comprehending written assembly instructions. My inquiry was a general question, Is it possible in the future Kevin could take shop class, maybe next year? He's now signed up for Tech-ed for next semester. Ohmigoodness, that scares me and thrills me at the same time. He'll be in the regular-ed boys every-other day. I'm sure I'll report how that goes.

He did what?

Kevin caught a cold last weekend and by Monday night his voice was gone. We kept him home from school on Tuesday. Kevin hardly ever gets sick, Tuesday was his first missed day of school in several years. But that's beside the point. We don't stock a lot of liquid cold medicine for him since he doesn't usually need it, and had nothing to give him for all his symptoms except gel-caps. Which he swallowed without ceremony. I was stunned, Dan was shocked. We were both happy with this new skill.

Teen Drama

Applications for First Choice High (FCH) were due on the 21st by 2:30 pm. The application packet consisted of the form, copies of the 7th grade final report card and the first quarter 8th grade card, and an optional essay. I'm not sure how the whole thing went down but I found part of the packet for Fern's neighborhood friend on our kitchen counter on Saturday the 22nd.

I asked Fern why Amanda's application was in our house. She starts flipping out. "Dad was supposed to turn that in, Amanda's gonna hate me, her mom's gonna be mad at her and she's gonna hate me.....," talking fast and anxious like only teen girls can do. We can't ask Dan, who turned in Fern's packet on Friday morning, didn't turn in Amanda's. He was on a road trip to La Grange, KY for a college roommate's surprise 50th birthday party in another college friend's car and his phone was in his car parked at that friend's house.

No one specifically said to Dan, "here is Amanda's application, will you turn it in too, please?" But Fern swears we said we'd take it and knew about it. I left for work early that day and knew nothing about special requests. I turned it in to the high school on the way to the IEP meeting.

As it turns out, the head of the special-ed is good friends with one of the chairs of FCH and emailed her my story when I was there for the IEP meeting the following Monday. (FCH, is a special application-only honors program within the local high school.) In the mean time, I called Amanda's mom to explain what happened on our end and where the application was. She wasn't mad at us or at Amanda. It was her responsibilty after all. Amanda's not mad at Fern, and Fern is not mad at us. The FCH chair called me and accepted the app late anyway. Now, if Amanda gets in and Fern doesn't, heads will roll, baby, heads will roll.

Thanksgiving vs. Mendoza.

I'm still above my Mendoza line and am not happy about it. I get so close, then go and do something stupid like have cake at a birthday party Saturday night. Grrr. I'll be doing the "on the ball" class at the gym at lunch and I'll be back to my water aerobics class tonight. There were no classes last week, which didn't help the cause any.

High Def Rain

Three weeks ago I negotiated a fabulous deal with DirecTV for high def service and picked an install date of yesterday, it was the first Sunday appointment they had. I hate taking off work to wait for someone to maybe show up in a 12-4 window. The guy showed up at 2:00. Except it was raining. And the tech wouldn't climb up on the roof in the rain for an hour and install a new 40lb dish. Grrr. I complained and got free Show Time for several months. They are supposed to be coming back today and Dan, the great guy that he is, is going home to meet them when they call so say they are on the way. I bet they forget to call. Scattered showers in the forecast for the afternoon, too.

School Daze

Fern came home from school on Monday depressed: her schedule was still set for the algebra rotation instead of geometry and she was bored out of her mind.

Tuesday morning I called the school and asked for her guidance counselor. I told her my concern, Fern's schedule had not yet been changed. The counselor didn't know anything about it. I explained about the high score on the HSA standardized algebra test and the principal had granted Fern permission to go on to geometry.

I was genuinely surprised when the counselor told me she would immediately pull Fern out of class and give her a new hand-written schedule. I was also surprised and irritated The counselor didn't know what was going on with the schedule and the algebra class, the principal hadn't communicated that. When Fern got home from school I verified she was switched and happier. She was.

Every day after school the neighborhood kids, Fern's friends, are convening at a neighbor's house and doing homework. And, she's coming home with it done. And now, get this, she's complaining she has so much time available in the evenings because her homework is done. Wow. She might be catching on. I hope it sticks this time. She also seems more compliant around the house. I hope that sticks too.

Weekend Round-Up

I've been trying to write a weekend round-up post for a couple of days now and stuff keeps getting in the way. Like work.

In This Issue:

• Mr. Clean


• Child Services


• Laundry Queen


• Back to School

Mr. Clean

Last Friday was Day 3 after the teeth got pulled. My poor baby. I feel so bad having done this to Kevin without his full comprehension. Because of his autism, it's hard to explain it to him. He's so independent, he pretty much takes care of himself when it comes to napping when he is tired and eating when he's hungry. So He napped a good part of Wednesday and Thursday and ate very little despite the offerings of food. By Thursday night, he felt well enough to take a shower and by Friday morning he showered again and again and had taken three showers in 12 hours. I'm not really sure why.

I finally got him to swish the salt water in his mouth and not drink it. It took a lot of modeling but finally he got it. He even made his own cups of salt water after that.

The doctor said he'd only need ice on his cheeks for the first 12 hours, but Kevin made his own ice packs through Monday. I guess he knew he felt better with them. I wish he could explain it to me.

Child Services

Saturday morning Dan drove down to rendezvous with his sister to collect Fern since she had spent the week there with her cousin, Rose.

While she was gone I went into her room and got her hamper and collected all the clothes that were on the floor. Then I scraped together all the flotsam and jetsam from the periphery of her room into a pile, you know, that stuff she ignores when she thinks her room is clean. It's hard to ignore when it's in a big pile. All she has to do is sit down in one place and sort through the debris and, voila, her room is clean. But as I did I knew she'd be mad at me for doing it.

Laundry Queen

Saturday I added the laundry I got from The Girl's room to the pile in the laundry room. I got through most of it so there wasn't enough of any one type of clothes left to make a full load of anything. Whew. I even did a few loads of sheets and towels.

But on the other side of getting laundry done, is putting it away. Another chore I'm bad at. The pile on my dresser is so high I can barely see the mirror so I started a new pile on the floor next it. I have too many clothes, I know I do, but I'm reluctant about getting rid of stuff. AM helped me last week get rid of a lot of dresses that don't really fit or are hopelessly out of style. I am always grateful for her help, (always, always, always) and we cleared out a lot of rod space in my closet, but I wish she could have stayed for another hour or so. I need to clear out more to make room for the clean clothes I just washed.

My goal is to get the master bedroom in shape. Soon. I got part of the room cleaned up over the weekend, but now the cleaned-up spot needs vacuuming. Somehow our room collects stuff. Kevin likes to play in there. Like the rest of the house. Sheesh.

Back to School

Monday morning, the culmination of a summer vacation, was the first day of school. Both kids were up and ready on time. I opened the garage doors at 7:20 and Kevin went out to wait at 7:25. And waited. And waited.

Fern's bus information had come in the mail a week before school started but we didn't hear anything about Kevin's bus. I had checked the school's web site and found out his bus would pick him up at 7:31. Because he's on a special ed bus, we usually get a call with the information, not just a letter. Finally over the weekend we got a call from his new driver telling us the same time.

His bus never showed, unless it was way early. Which on the first day of school, I highly doubt. By 8:15 there is still no bus so I started calling around. The guy at the bus lot was very nice, even offered to send a bus to pick him up. I declined. He said he'd talk to the driver and find out when she came by my house and call me back.

I took Kevin to school and waited my turn in the busy office to explain my presence. The new CRI teacher herself came up to get him instead of an aide, so I got to meet his new teacher. She seemed nice, but a little frazzled. I didn't hold it against her.

The bus lot guy did call me back (surprise!) and said the driver said she was at our house at 7:35, only a few minutes late. But I know she never stopped by our house, I was there. I'd remember a big yellow bus pass by. Tuesday morning, we were ready and waiting, and the bus went past our house before it stopped. Kevin ran across the lawn to get on. Now you know, if she really was at our house on Monday, she would have known where to stop on Tuesday. Right?

This morning I tried to ask her where she went on Monday and she dodged the question by saying she was sorry she was late. Arrrgggggg.
 

In Your Face!

Maybe you will remember I posted about Fern and her struggles with Algebra last year. She got D's all year. Just after the fourth quarter started she asked for tutoring, so we invested many dollars in many hours of tutoring. Much of the last quarter was devoted to HSA prep. With the tutoring she managed an 83 on her final, but still a D for the quarter because of missed assignments and, according to her, no grades in the gradebook after they started focusing on the HSA.

The guidance counselor, her algebra teachers, yeah, she had two, but that's another story, and the principal all thought she should repeat algebra, that she couldn't do the work in geometry, didn't understand algebra, yada yada, and since she was only a 7th grader, she had plenty of time to retake it and get the rest of her math in before graduation.

So here we are, on the cusp of a new school year. Fern has been getting ready mentally to be in algebra again, determined to do well. I spoke to the principal about my concerns: Fern absolutely must have a dynamic teacher this year who is going to hold her attention all year so she doesn't get bored, and when she's bored she won't do her work and then receive another low grade. I also tried delicately to imply I didn't trust the teacher, whom she had for most of last year, had graded her fairly, not giving her all possible credit due. How does someone get and 83 and still a D? But, either she ignored my jabs about her employee, or was oblivious to them. (I'd leave a message for the teacher to call me, but instead returning my call, she'd harass Fern in class the next day.)

I was not going to tolerate another year with a teacher like that. So Fern was placed with Mrs Lamb. Fern likes her, she was the teacher who ran the morning HSA prep sessions before school last spring. All will be fine.

(pause for dramatic music)

This week I got a call from her principal: The HSA scores came in and Fern blew it out of the water (my words, not hers). Fern got a very high score, and she is allowed to go on to geometry if she wants to, with the stipulation she will commit to it and work hard. Fern's decision.

The drawback of staying in algebra: boredom, especially in spring quarter when the class is doing HSA prep and she's exempt.

The drawback to going on to geometry: the algebra grade stands. It could, and probably will hold her back from getting into Bowie Summit or Roosevelt (the area's advanced high schools). But the upside is, she can thumb her nose (figuratively, please) at those teachers and counselors who said she couldn't do it.

You go girl! I mean really, go, go do your homework!
 

The Rest of the Story(s)

Last year I was comfortably below my Mendoza line, that weight I never want to go over. Clothes were fitting well; life was good. Winter came and as usual, I struggled with keeping the annual hibernation weight off. Then it took a while to get the spring break in Europe weight off. Finally I got below the line, but not as far below as I was last year, but I was holding steady. Life was OK. Then I went to Vegas and came back many pounds over the line, and not just a smidge, either. It took me a month to get stay back below.

Monday morning: I'm way over again. Too much food at the cook-out I guess. I hate that. Even the watchband won't stay clipped, I'm up so much.

---

I'm still not sleeping well, I tossed and turned until after 1:00 last night, then I got up and roamed the house for a while. I vacuumed the carpet in the sewing room and laid out my triangle quilt on the floor and studied the borders, auditioning different possibilities. I realized I don't like the inner-most border, it's too wide. So much for using the Fibonacci number sequence for border widths. Blah. I'll start taking off the borders tonight or tomorrow and re-work them. Maybe this time it'll work for me better. Here are two possibilities, a thin cream border before the green stripe and a thin dark red strip in the middle of the green:

---

When Fern went away to camp a couple weeks ago, her roommate, whom she had last year too, gave her a Stonehenge tote bag. Two days later she took it to the Orioles game with her, in it was her book and camera and other odds and ends. The following two weeks the bag was lost, she couldn't find it anywhere. I kept offering to call Orioles' guest relations office to see if they found it and she kept telling me she read the book on the way back from the game and didn't leave the bag there. But yet, the bag was still MIA.

Then I remembered she went to the church that night to help with vacation bible school. Sure enough, the bag was left at church and it was recovered a couple days later.

My parents sent Fern a tote bag for her birthday. She took it with her on our trip over the weekend. In it was some movies she watched on the laptop and her book. Monday night we start to gather the movies to return to Blockbuster. She can't find them. Where are they? In the tote bag. Where is it? I don't know. Did you leave it at Michelle's? I didn't take it there. Did you leave it in Damascus at the cookout? Maybe.

I call our friends and they have the bag. Tonight after work I'll drive up to meet them half-way to retrieve the bag. Aye-yi-yi.

In the mean time, The Girl has left the family Nintendo DS with the Guitar Hero cartridge at a neighbor's house. When she went over to collect the DS she brought home yet another forgotten tote bag.

---

Kevin continues to have wacky sleep patterns. He was awake at 4:30 yesterday morning. I'm not sure if he'd been awake all night long or just woke up in the middle of the night. We managed to keep him awake until after 8:00 last night, but then he fell asleep in our bed. At 5'10" he's too big to move while he sleeps so I had to wake him. I pulled the blanket off him and he woke right up and tried to pull it back. I told him I was changing the sheets and he had to go to his room. It worked. I am a mean mommy.

Fern was slow in waking for skating camp on Monday and Tuesday this week so I told her she had to be in her room lights out at 11:00. At 11:00 I tapped on her door and told her to turn off the light. I moved away from the door so the floor creaked a bit and stood there quietly. Thirty seconds or so later the light came back on. She was genuinely surprised when I pushed the door open and told her to turn off the light. I am a very mean mommy.

On Birthday Shopping

Fern will be 13 in a couple weeks. What happened to the cute little bundle of joy that was crawling around here a few weeks ago, I ask you?

Anyway, this is what Fern wants for her birthday.
No, not the girl.
Not the dress.
Yes, the shoes. Her friends tell her she can't pull them off. Her father tells her to loosen the laces.

She also wants a new phone, a slider phone with a keyboard for easier texting. Two years ago I wrote this post about her birthday present that year. Go ahead, read it now, I'll wait. We got her a phone and a two-year contract. Which means the contract is almost up and it means she is eligible for an phone upgrade. I guess I don't mind getting her a new phone, but I really really don't want to get her an upgraded service package that would go with a slider phone with keyboard. sheesh. Our monthly bill is almost $100 now, as it is, with three lines and the data package for my iPhone. Currently, she's allowed 200 messages per month. Two days after the start of this most recent billing cycle she was up to 87. I guess I just gotta bite the bullet and let her have an unlimited texting package. And I'll go kicking and screaming all the way to the store.

Portrait of Modern Parents

Scene: Last night; middle school cafeteria; crowded; rows of folding chairs filled with lots of parents with cameras; chairs and podium on the stage.

I'm sitting on a aisle seat so I can get up quickly to take pictures when I need to. I don't know where Dan is sitting.

The orchestra sounds better than I expected.

My cell phone rings and I put my earbud in and took the call.

I enjoy three selections by the 7th grade band.


The Rest of the Story:

I'm at Tasker Middle for the 8th grade awards ceremony, Dan's at Ogle Middle at Fern's spring band concert. Both started at 7:00 pm. Kevin sat with the students on the front row. From where I was sitting I could see a little of him and he seemed well behaved. He got called up to the stage four times for awards in "most improved in science," "academic excellence in math and reading," "academic excellence with a 4.0 gpa," and perfect attendance. Each time he went up with little or no prompting, accepted his certificate, and shook hands with the administrators and returned to his seat like a pro. Dan calls me when the 7th graders take the stage so I can hear Fern play. Shortly after she was done I lost reception so I couldn't return the favor and Dan couldn't hear Kevin's name for his 4.0 gpa. I did take pictures, however. But I can't post them because the camera battery is on the charger at home. Doh.

Let there be light

How many 7th graders does it take to put in a light bulb?

Apparently, more than one, the one being my daughter.

Her ceiling fan has two bulbs burnt out. Been burnt out for a while now. It's not a matter of reaching them, there's a step stool in her room she uses to climb into bed. Her bed is higher than a regular bed but lower than a loft. It's about boob-high when I walk up to it. We got the bed at Ikea, you can make bunks with it or put the bed at the top for a loft, in the middle or at the bottom and hang curtains on the top rails for a princess-style look. Ikea doesn't sell it anymore because kids were getting hurt hanging from the top rail. Stoopid kids. Now her bed is in the middle position and I got her a wooden step stool so she could climb into bed. So I know she can use the stool to reach the ceiling fan.

The other day she asked me if I'd change them for her. Huh? OK, maybe I did forget to teach her how to change a light bulb. Still.

---

A couple years ago I bought a cool ceiling light fixture for my closet. It has three bendable arms so you can point the light anywhere. It's kinda like this one. I thought it'd be good for a closet because I could shine the arms on different racks of clothes. I installed it and it worked out great. That is, until I realized the bulbs burned out quickly. It was a pain because I had to go back to Ikea to get more to change them. But I could, I knew how. I never researched if I could get bulbs from the hardware store. Oh well.

Then, recently I discovered compact fluorescent bulbs with the equivalent lumens as a 100 watt bulb. I like a bright light, but could not use them often because the lamps would often have a safety rating of 75 watts or less. However the wattage used by a 100 watt-equivalent compact fluorescent bulb is about 24 watts. And a light went on over my head, I can use these.

The other day another bulb burned out in my closet light. This event corresponded with cloudy gray weather so it was pretty dark in my closet and I decided I'd switch light fixtures and use a 24 watt CFL. Except it was dark and I couldn't see to do the work. Let me explain about my closet. It's large and strangely shaped, the builder put it in the front of the house under the eaves, it has a window that faces the street, and when it's empty you could put a bed in there, but it's never empty. About fifty-thousand legos call the floor home, along with a tool box and many shoes. Kevin likes to dump the legos on the floor in there, and when I pick them up, well you know what happens. The legos are very happy on my closet floor.

I wait until a sunny day. I live life on the edge, I don't flip the breaker, I just turn off the light at the wall and start taking down the fixture. I drop a bolt and I don't hear it fall. Then, of course, I have to go somewhere and have to leave everything hanging for a day. When I get back to the project I start by looking for the dropped bolt. Since I didn't hear it fall I shake out all the clothes under the light hoping to hear or see it drop. Nothing. The legos aren't talking, they don't reveal the bolt's location no matter how many I move around or how many are crushed by my knees. I give up and see how far I can get without it before I look into getting a new one. I finish disconnecting the old lamp one wire at a time and immediately connecting the correct wire on the new one. Just as I'm reaching for the last wire, lo and behold, the dropped bolt is sitting in the old lamp I'm taking down. The rest of the job went smoothly and I now have 100 watts of light at the price of 24 and can actually see what I'm wearing. And where the legos are on the floor.

Attention Please

Have you ever wanted the undivided attention of someone? Or a large group?

Call a bingo game. The usual bingo game has numbers from B-1 to O-75, but I have a bingo-a-day calendar that has a smaller set of numbers. Not that I play bingo that often, but it was on clearance a few weeks ago, so I bought it. Every day has three game cards and 50 lift-a-flaps revealing random numbers to be called.

I took a stack of unspent days to the retreat with me and passed out a set of cards to everyone. Throughout the weekend I'd call a game for a door prize. I didn't know if it would be received well, if people would like to participate or not. I was nervous, my self esteem was waning. I took the chance and it paid off. The room was dead quiet, you could hear a pin drop and the crackle of cooling irons, as I called each number. You've never heard a gaggle of quilters that quiet.

On Sunday after the last game had been played I got lots of comments from people asking me to do that again next year, it was fun, and where did I get the calendar.

I was thrilled and my ego was happy. Yay.

Ice Day

School was closed today so I stayed home with the kids. I've finished reading a book, started a load of laundry, ran the dishwasher and not a lot else. Fern asked if she could make brownie batter. No. Fern then asked if she could make a batch of brownies. Yes. Then she still tried to sit on the sofa and eat the batter, I guess she thought I wouldn't notice. For a smart girl, she's pretty daft.

I'll have to check the traffic and weather later to see if I can go out. Dan left for Florida and Fern will be at a sleep-over, so I might take The Boy out to supper or the mall. Wonder what other trouble I can get into while the house is mostly empty?

Stung

I deliver chocolate milk to The Boy's room, he likes a glass of frothy goodness before bed. The Girl's door is cracked, I see the blue light emitted from the TV, Gilmore Girls flickering into the air. Her head's on the pillow, her eyes are closed. She likes to fall asleep with the TV on, "it helps her." sheesh. I know she's faking it, there with her eyes closed, much too perfectly. I want her to know I know she's not asleep. I whisper: "You want $20?"

"Really!?"

Snapshots of a Weekend

I shot a 55 on the back nine at Glenndale. I had some good drives, almost had the green in 3 on several holes but hit the beach instead, and made par on 12, par 3 130 something yards, long putt for par.

 

I got an email from a neighbor who is traveling this week to Arizona to visit a retired colleague:

If for some reason I don't make it back my car will be in the long term parking at bwi- license is xxx xxx. 2006 honda accord black
Car keys are on the mirror in the hallway.

You can keep it. Needs an oil change.

 

My daughter is a funny bird. She was the liturgist again Sunday morning for the 8:30 service, having had fun when she did part of the Youth service in September. This time, she did the whole service, didn't share the duty with any one else. She did great, spoke clearly, didn't rush through the readings. Many people came up to me after the service to tell me how well my daughter had done. I'm sure a lot of people told her the same thing. I asked her if she'd like to do it again. "No." Her point of view is: it's over, don't dwell on the past, just move on. She's uncomfortable with the accolades and doesn't want to be subject to acclamations if she doesn't have to. I wish she could be more graceful in accepting praise. How do I help her with that?

 

My husband heard the click click click of the starter on the gas stove.
"What are you making?"
"Spinach."
"Spinach?"
I peered around the corner to see a look on his face that was reminiscent of a child given a plate of brussels sprouts.
"I have a hankering for something and I don't know what it's for."
"It's not for spinach, ice cream or cheese cake maybe."
"No, it definitely not for ice cream or cheese cake."
I plop down in my chair in the sewing/computer room.
"Chips and dip?"
"I could have a hankering for chips and dip," I said, paused, then said, "you could pick some up when you go get the girls at 8:00."
"You beat me to the punch."
"Yes I did." He usually gets me to make trips like this.
"I'm already in sweats."
"I have slippers on."
"But you have pants on."
"Yeah, but I'm not wearing a bra."
"If I didn't notice, no one else will".

The chips hit the spot.
And I didn't have to leave the house.

Alphabet Soup

Report card time: Two kids, eleven A's, one B and one D, two honor roll students.

Yeah!

Aye Yi Yi

I had a doctor's appointment this morning to have a pain in my neck checked. No, not Fern, but I will discuss her later. I have pain in a gland on the right side that I've had for a long time. While I was there I got to donate blood for routine lab work. Except the donation part was not routine. The first lab tech finally found a vein that she could use in the right arm, but it kept rolling and she couldn't get the needle all the way in so she tried a vein in the back of my hand, again with no luck.

At this point I'm feeling very faint, after all, this is for fasting tests. The first vampire leaves and a second vampire comes in. More tourniquets, more prodding and she finally finds a usable vein on the left arm.
The lights are almost out in the room, it's very dark and I'm not sure how she could see to get all three vials of blood. After a short nap, the lights are back on and I prepare to leave. But, wait, that's not all, can you leave a sample in there, too? sheesh. How much more do I need to give here for a pain in the neck? In addition to the referral to the ENT guy, I asked for two other referrals, one for a beloved mammo and one to a psychiatrist so I can get meds for my ADD. My doctor doesn't know which doctor to send me to because a lot of them are not taking my insurance anymore. I guess psychiatrists don't want to help people who cannot pay to see them.

Before my trip to the doctor's office I had time to fold up a load of laundry that was partly a load I started mixed in with a load the princess started (princess said with the utmost contempt, by the way). There are three baskets of clean unfolded laundry around the washer. The princess, it seems, will start a load of her clothes for school and, when it's time to put them in the dryer, will move anything already occupying the space in a basket and leave it there, cold, wrinkled, and unwearable. Three baskets full. Sometimes I can fluff the unwearables back to life in the dryer along with a wet towel, sometimes they are just too far gone. I gave the princess a piece of my mind, you have to fold what's in the dryer, now I have three baskets to deal with, you can't just leave it there..... sheesh. Think she'll remember next time? I doubt it, too.

I don't have to worry about clean pants for a while. I got my order from LL Bean the other day. I have a hard time finding pants that fit me because my hip-to-waist ratio is so big and my legs are so long. If I find a pair of pants in a department store that seem to fit and seem to be long enough, they never are after washing and drying. on LOW heat mind you; they're 2" too short. sheesh. I need to gather them all up and give them to AM, her legs are shorter than mine. LL Bean sells long pants and promises they won't shrink. I ordered four pairs. Yesterday I wore the cotton chinos in "soapstone" and promptly dropped food on them. This, of course, is after I spoke to the aforementioned princess about wearing pants more than once before she puts them in the hamper. sheesh. Today I'm wearing "rosette" Adirondack jeans. And look! no spots!

How is your day?