a retelling

You will know it is time to turn the page when you hear the chime ring like this * .

Oh, you mean it's just me that hears a chime ring whenever I see an * ? Somehow I'm not all that surprised.


Mommy? I'm gonna read you a story now. Which book do you want?
  • Umm, how about the yellow one?
You hafta say the one in the middle. Mommy? Which book do you want?
  • But I like the box one.
No. That's not the one. You say the one in the middle. Now, which book do ya want?
  • Hmmm. How about the one in the middle?
Yep, that's the one!
(Picks up book. "Reads" front cover.)
Remember? And he doesn't find his mother?
And the baby bird popped out when it broked.
And, Mommy? That cow is going to EAT THAT BIRD so he'd better get outta there!
Now, that's much better.
Mmmm, hmmm.
And the garbage truck scooped him up in his scooper
and put him right back in but not the garbage.
The end.


First person to correctly identify the story gets a gold star.


tuesday interrupted

I generally use my boy-free Tuesdays to get caught up on "things" -- paperwork, birthday cards, laundry, emails, the blog, TiVo, sleep. Okay, mostly TiVo and sleep. I eat the crap that I would still be eating if I didn't have to set a good example and make sure that there is at least fruitsandvegetables item on my plate. Lunch = carbs + butter + salt. By the time I pick the boy* up from Miss Nicole, I'm in a fatlazyhappy mood and ready to face the rest of the week. Unless it's a therapy week and then it's more of a fatexhaustedfromallthecrying mood. But it's all good because he goes down for a nap as soon as we get home and then I can catch up on "things" and rinse the taste of mindbarf out of my mouth with Ben & Jerry's.

This week didn't go as planned. The boy got sick. As in "fever, but not high enough to take him to the doctor and coughing like a 60 year-old 10-pack-a-day smoker" sick. And so the day was spent working on a myriad of "things". Between wiping a sore little nose and trying to figure out where the crap I put that frigging thermometer, only two of which were actually completed; none of them were completed well.

Things I accomplished:

  • Remade the bed after discovering that at some point during one of his many visits to our bed, someone left snotty little nose tracks all over my pillow case. Covers mouth and gags.
  • Joined Freecycle and posted an offer. If needscrap36 shows up at 2, I'll be able to add a number 3 to this list.
Things I started:
  • Dishes.
  • Laundry. Speaking of which, did I ever actually start that load?
  • Blog post RE: individuals expressing a desire that Obama 1) be led by god**, 2) surround himself with godly people, 3) seek god's guidance... you get the idea. My reaction, every single time is to mutter "Be careful what you wish for." Careful meaning specific. Because you just wouldn't be very happy if he happened to pick the wrong god, now would you? I'm pretty sure this isn't a case where any god will do... Me? I would much rather our leader be led by empathy, be surround by diversity, and seek diplomacy. Someone who will consider the kind of world he wants his two young daughters to live in. But more on that later.
  • Two seperate episodes of CSI. Classic and New York editions.
  • Pondering fatigue. If your body / decision making skills react to being awake for 18 consecutive hours similarly to someone with a blood alcohol level of .05 (not all that inconceivable, if you think about it. Up at 6am, up 'til midnight... that sounds eerily familiar!), does that mean that if you're the kind of person who gets cranky when you're sleep deprived, you'd also be a mean drunk?
  • Blog post considering the relevance of turning 33.
  • New track layout for Team GeoTrax. If you just said "All aboard" reflexively, then you know my pain.
  • Going through a basket of socks, more than half of which have holes in 'em. Aside from the obvious need of taking more time for pedicures, what the crap am I supposed to do with 15 otherwise usable socks? And, no, darning isn't on the infinite list of possibilities.
  • Coming to (hesitant) terms with the idea that although I will be sad if Annabelle were to slip away quietly in the night, I wouldn't exactly be heart broken. Yup, definitely the mean drunk type.
  • Working on a post for one of my other much neglected sites. I know! I could hardly believe it myself!
That's what I remember. Well, that and a couple times through Wall-e, refilling the humidifier, and wiping sputum from my hands. Not my own. I know, I know, my life is so glamorous.

*I don't like calling him LG anymore. Not certain I ever did, but meh, I went with it. The problem is, now that I've started, my particular brand of OCDishness makes it difficult to change without going back and changing all the previous references to whatever I come up with next. And my particular brand of laziness isn't too keen on that. What to do, what to do.

** Lower case "g" here because it seems irreverant to use an upper case. As if I know who/what the Uppercase God is anymore than anyone else.


tomorrow's starting now

John Legend - If You're Out There - Evolver 2008

If you hear this message, wherever you stand
I'm calling every woman, calling every man
We're the generation
We can't afford to wait
The future started yesterday and we're already late

We've been looking for a song to sing
Searched for a melody
Searched for someone to lead
We've been looking for the world to change
If you feel the same
Then go on and say

If you're out there
Sing along with me
If you're out there
I'm dying to believe that you're out there
Stand up and say it loud
If you're out there
Tomorrow's starting now
Now, now

No more broken promises
No more call to war
Unless it's love and peace that we're really fighting for
We can destroy hunger
We can conquer hate
Put down the arms and raise your voice
We're joining hands today

Oh I was looking for a song to sing
I searched for a leader
But the leader was me
We were looking for the world to change
We can be heroes
Just go on and say

If you're out there
Sing along with me
If you're out there
I'm dying to believe that you're out there
Stand up and say it loud
If you're out there
Tomorrow's starting now
Now, now

Oh now, now

If you're ready we can shake the world
Believe again
It starts within
We don't have to wait for destiny
We should be the change that we want to see

If you're out there
If you're out there
And you're ready now
Say it loud
Scream it out

If you're out there
Sing along with me
If you're out there
I'm dying to believe that you're out there
Stand up and say it loud
If you're out there
Tomorrow's starting now

If you're out there
If you're out there
If you're out there

If you hear this message, wherever you stand
I'm calling every woman, calling every man
We're the generation
We can't afford to wait
The future started yesterday and we're already late...

But not too late.

It's visceral, this feeling of hope.


going places

Today is De-lurking Day, or so I'm told by people who are better at paying attention to these things than I. If you happen to find yourself 'round these parts, I'd be thrilled to find a "hello" in the comments!

As for me, I'm got a long list of blogs that I regularly lurk at to go unveil myself at. If you're looking for me, I'm likely to be at one of the following:

anne nahm
breed 'em and weep
cheese party
cry it out: memoirs of a stay-at-home dad
dad gone mad
fluid pudding
geese aplenty
home on the fringe
laid off dad
lenka's front porch
life as we now know it
looky, daddy!
mimi smartypants
motherhood is not for wimps
notes to self
oh, the urbanity!
second effort
the poop
the queen of non sequitur
wendi aarons

Catch me if you can!


who are you?

I really wanna know!

PS: Monday is Delurking Day. All the cool kids are doing it.

the write stuff

I took an online handwriting analysis quiz thingy over at The Handwriting Wizard. You should do it too. And put down "Subject" as your first name. It makes you feel like your computer is CIA when you get your results back.

(What they said in normal text. Rebuttal in orange.)

Subject uses judgment to make decisions. She is ruled by her head, not her heart. She is a cool, collected person who is usually unexpressive emotionally. Some may see her as unemotional. She does have emotions but has no need to express them. She is withdrawn into herself and enjoys being alone. Not me. Not quite. Go away and leave me alone unless there is a valid reason for bothering me.

The circumstances when she does express emotions include: extreme anger, extreme passion, and tremendous stress. If someone gets her mad enough to tell off, she will not be sorry about it later. She puts a mark in her mind when someone angers her. She keeps track of these marks and when she hits that last mark she will let them know they have gone too far. Subject is ruled somewhat by self-interest. All her conclusions are made without outside emotional influence. She is very level-headed and will remain calm in an emergency situation. In a situation where other people might get hysterical, she has poise. Whoo boy, I don't like this one. But I've always ascribed to the school of thought that suggests the traits you most dislike in others are those traits you most dislike in yourself. Which makes me a narcissistic, self-serving, judgemental know-it-all bitch. Truth hurts, hmm?

Will work more efficiently if given space and time to be alone. She would rather not be surrounded by people constantly. In a relationship, she will show her love by the things she does rather than by the things she says. Saying "I love you" is not a needed routine because she feels her mate should already know. The only exception to this is if she has logically concluded that it is best for her mate to hear her express her love verbally. The space thing is dead on. As for saying "I love you", well all I can assume is that after 13 years together, my handwriting is starting to look like BG's.

Subject is not subject to emotional appeals. If someone is selling a product to her, they will need to present only the facts. They should present them from a standpoint of her sound judgment. She will not be taken in by an emotional story about someone else. She will meet emergencies without getting hysterical and she will always ask "Is this best for me?" Well, at first this really pissed me off, but now that I think about it, there might just be some truth to it. I'm good to talk the talk, but do I walk the walk? Hmmm...

People that write their letters in an average height and average size are moderate in their ability to interact socially. According to the data input, Subject doesn't write too large or too small, indicating a balanced ability to be social and interact with others. See? You CAN let me out of the cage occasionally! I WON'T always pee on your carpet!

Subject will demand respect and will expect others to treat her with honor and dignity. Subject believes in her ideas and will expect other people to also respect them. She has a lot of pride. A LOT of pride. It's that especially hard to swallow kind that comes in the extra large tubs at those warehouse type stores.

Subject is not facing something going on in her life today. She is deceiving herself about it. Often, Subject's opinion of herself is different than those around her. This trait gives Subject the ability to deny anything that does not agree with her "truth." This trait is not always something negative. It is only a defense mechanism allowing Subject not to face some reality in her life at this time. Let's talk about something else, shall we?

Diplomacy is one of Subject's best attributes. She has the ability to say what others want to hear. She can have tact with others. She has the ability to state things in such a way as to not offend someone else. Subject can disagree without being disagreeable. Daddy always said "The mark of a diplomat is telling someone to go to hell while making them look forward to the trip." And over here we have this year's model in handbaskets...

In reference to mental abilities, she has a very investigating and creating mind. She investigates projects rapidly because she is curious about many things. She gets involved in many projects that seem good at the beginning, but she soon must slow down and look at all the angles. She probably gets too many things going at once. When Subject slows down, then she becomes more creative than before. Since it takes time to be creative, she must slow down to do it. She then decides what projects she has time to finish. Thus she finishes at a slower pace than when she started the project. Which is why I have no fewer than 3 large boxes) of unfinished projects, all started before LG was born, yet I still thought it would be a good idea to make the curtains for his room after we moved in here. Never mind that I don't know how to sew.

She has the best of two kinds of minds. One is the quick investigating mind. The other is the creative mind. Her mind thinks quick and rapidly in the investigative mode. She can learn quicker, investigate more, and think faster. Subject can then switch into her low gear. When she is in the slower mode, she can be creative, remember longer and stack facts in a logical manner. She is more logical this way and can climb mental mountains with a much better grip. Guess which one I listen with?

Subject is a practical person whose goals are planned, practical, and down to earth. This is typical of people with normal healthy self-esteem. She needs to visualize the end of a project before she starts. she finds joy in anticipation and planning. Notice that I said she plans everything she is going to do, that doesn't necessarily mean things go as planned. Subject basically feels good about herself. She has a positive self-esteem which contributes to her success. She feels she has the ability to achieve anything she sets her mind to. However, she sets her goals using practicality-- not too "out of reach". She has enough self-confidence to leave a bad situation, yet, she will not take great risks, as they relate to her goals. A good esteem is one key to a happy life. Although there is room for improvement in the confidence category, her self-perception is better than average. First off, let me just say that any paragraph that begins with the word "tart" has promise. That being said, there are good days and there are bad days. Raise your hand if you'd be surprised if I came out of therapy with a semi-bipolar diagnosis. Psst: Put your hand down. You look silly doing that all by yourself.

Subject is sarcastic. This is a defense mechanism designed to protect her ego when she feels hurt. She pokes people harder than she gets poked. These sarcastic remarks can be very funny. They can also be harsh, bitter, and caustic at the same time. Oh, was that too harsh?

Subject has a temper. She uses this as a defense mechanism when she doesn't understand how to handle a situation. Temper is a hostile trait used to protect the ego. Temper can be a negative personality trait in the eyes of those around her. But, as we're learning, a repressed temper. Which doesn't make it any more of a positive personality trait.

Subject exaggerates about everything that has a physical nature. Although she may not intend to deceive or mislead, she blows things way out of proportion because that is the way she views them. She will be a good story teller. This exaggeration relates to all areas of her material world. Subject allows many people into her life because she is accepting and trusting. She is sometimes called gullible by her friends. That only really means that she trusts too many people. Subject has a vivid imagination. Hyperbole: turning normal lives into blog fodder with a simple twist of phrase. Kinda makes you want to go back and read what I've written to see if there's any truth in any of it, doesn't it?


and the winner is...

Thanks for playing along. I solemnly swear to never, ever, ever write a post that long again.

R- your prize for using the word Jenga in a non-80's reference being drawn out of the hat will be in the mail first thing in the morning! Hopefully UPS likes their drivers well caffeinated!!!


everything old is new again!

I can't stand having to scroll for 15 minutes before I get to the bottom of the page to check my site meter stats, so I'm going to break up the last post into a series of smallish ones. Please don't freak out when your reader says I have 15 new posts. I haven't been kidnapped, no one is holding a gun to my head, and my body hasn't been reanimated by aliens.

I did smash my big toe earlier this morning.

No? Not as interesting as the aliens? Just wait 'til I take some pictures of it!

PS The "Omigod, I'm So Sorry I Made You Read All of That" Contest will end Monday. So pretend like you read all of that those and leave a comment already. Otherwise the goods all go directly to Amy.


it hurts everyone when i procrastinate: december

After we got back from Philadelphia*, we decked our halls and other miscellaneous stuff**

then scored some face time with the Jolly Old Elf himself. Also yhad breakfast with Richard Claus and Colleen, but the teeming masses were in need of pancakes, so alas, no pictures. This year...

Then we took a trip into San Francisco to checked out the scene at Union Square.
We weren't sure if S.C. saw us being naughty or nice, so we hedged our bets, then went to bed so as not to "scare away da reindeer"

which paid off

big time!
Then we wore our jammies all day and ate ourselves silly.

The guys took on a project or two to pass the time whilst the dishes were being done

and after all the chores were finished, we headed to the mountains to play in the snow.

*Technically the last few days of the trip were in December, but it just didn't seem right to split up a good time, so that will all be part of the November clean-up.
**No cats were decked in the decorating process. At least not on purpose.


it hurts everyone when i procrastinate: november

Posts re: LG's birthday and the first half of our trip to Philadelphia are over there --> in the archives. Check 'em if you care. Here's the rest of the posts from the Philadelphia trip, plus a bunch of pictures that didn't get posted, well, because they didn't get posted yet.

Day 7: Thanksgiving Day - or- The Day of How Much Can I Possibly Stuff in My Face - or - How Long Can I Actually Sit On This Couch And Not Burn Off a Single Calorie Because That Would Be a Shame Given How Much Time I've Spent Stuffing My Face.

It. Was. Glorious.

Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, squash casserole, rolls, apple pie, pumpkin pie, banana cream pie. Did I forget anything? I'm sure I forgot something. And that was all after the breakfast-snack-brunch-snack-lunch-snack marathon of pancakes, vegies and dip, chips and dip, meatballs, cheese, cheeseball, crackers, and I-know-I'm-forgetting-something of the morning. Ahhh, food coma. It hurts to type.

Day 8: The big guys had manly man stuff to do today (read: K had to work because the Evil Empire is evil that way and BG decided to save a vacation day by going in to work with him), so J and I took the kiddos to that great plastic wonderland in the sky that is McDonalds. LG was either not so much impressed with the real deal chicken nuggets or far more impressed with the giant hamster maze that loomed above our heads as we atel; either way, he managed to gulp down 1 nugget before announcing he was done and done he was. He only got stuck in the tube thingy once and thankfully there were smaller people around than I who he knew and trusted to help get him down. You see, unlike him, I rather enjoyed my nuggets and after the gluttony of the day before, it didn't take those greasy artery cloggers longer than about 3 minutes to attach themselves firmly to either side of my ass making it virtually impossible for me to finagle my way through said tubing without the jaws of life preceeding me. After lunch, we took the young 'uns back to the house, put the two littlest down for their naps, popped in a video for the rest, and snuck out the back door for a little Black Friday fun.

Relax. We left our phone numbers on a pad of paper by the phone. And a couple of bandaids. With that many boys, you should always leave bandaids.

J and I hit Walgreens and let me tell you, what followed is a tale of urban legend caliber. I've never been much of a believer in the Almighty Coupon, but, ladies and gentlemen, what I saw on that day made me believe. I won't go into great detail because I'm not sure if her secrets are subject to trademark or not and I don't want any trouble that way. The important part is this: when we walked up to the cash register, we had a basket full of items totaling upwards of $30. When the smoke and the stack of coupons cleared, J's total was less than $8. I think a little piece of my head exploded when I realized that included 2 tubes of toothpaste, a pack of diapers, tomato paste, deoderant, and I don't even remember what else. Resolution for 2009? I am so jumpin' on the coupon bandwagon!

We took advantage of our kid-free status to hit Starbucks for a Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate (or as I like to call it, Ecstacy) break and a little heart-to-heart, uninterrupted girl time. Wow time, as one of my other girlfriends likes to call it -- Mom time turned upsided down. And it was awesome. I don't remember all we chatted about -- quite possibly we just stared at each other and gloried in the ability to actually hear the muz-ick. Doesn't matter. It was time much needed and well spent and I left there buzzing from much more than the sugar and caffiene racing through my veins.

And all was well.

Day 9: J and A introduced me to Phase 10. Which was fun and well and good until we had to move away from the dice version to the card version. Note for those of you not yet indoctrinated? If you prefer cards, please limit the number of players that you invite to join your soiree. 4 hours of Phase 10 is too long. Too, too long.

Day 10: I don't want to talk about Day 10. The repacking that means the trip is coming to an end quite simply sucks. I don't mind the repacking that means we have more friends to visit. Correction: I don't mind the visiting more friends. I hate repacking. Nothing ever fits as neatly back into the suitcase as it did when the packing process was aided by the excitement of a trip not-yet-started. But knowing that in 3 short days we will be back on an airplane, headed across the country, away from so much of our "family"? That sucks. Next time I'm going to just burn everything so that we don't have to repack it.

Day 11: Caught the train from Wilmington, DE back to the city. Met Amy et al for lunch at Marathon on the Square . Because we simply had not eaten enough yet this trip. The boys were awesome lunch companions, splitting a grilled cheese sandwich and sharing their toys as if they had just seen each other yesterday. I cannot even describe the wholeness that I felt at that moment, surrounded by people I love, in a resturaunt I love, waiting for food that I love, in a city that feels more like home than any of the half-dozen+ places I've called home. ::sniffle::
Two and a half days here won't even come close to scratching the surface of all the catching up that needs to be done, but watching the boys together, sneaking in some snuggle time with Lucy, and talk, talk, talk, talking with Amy will be a good start. How early do you think is too early to get up tomorrow morning?

Day 12: The new Please Touch Museum? AWESOME. More on that when I get pictures uploaded and the battery on this iTouch recharged. Salad for lunch today in preparation for the gorge-fest at Fogo de Chao. May never have to eat meat again. May never be able to look at meat again.

Day 13: Walked with the kiddos to the park for one final hurrah. Now on the train as it speed us one final time through the city on it's way to the airport. I miss my pillow, but I'm still not quite ready to go home. I don't remember ever being on the last day of a trip and not being ready to go home. Guess it's never too early to start planning next year's trip... More when we get back to CA.

By my count, that( ^ ) was just barely over 1000 words. Therefore you only get to look at one of the following pictures:

Washington Square / Federal Mint
Center City
Three Bears Park
Rittenhouse Square
Rocky & the Philadelphia Museum of Art
Smith Playground
Reading Terminal


Franklin Square
Please Touch Museum