Cliche

"It was the best of times. It was the worst of times." The almost cliche quote still fits my mood.

MaryJane is walking. Here is an actual picture of the first four steps in a row! (As opposed to the first picture of Nolan walking which the scrapbook says is his first steps, but really a few staged, prodded steps the next day...) Amazing. I know, every kid does it, but it still takes my breath away. And she did it at party where everyone saw and gasped and shared in my awe. Except my husband who couldn't be there. But I'm trying to let this go.

My parents have been visiting at my house for six days. I was confronted with a bracing realization that I have refused to face before: My mother with MS will never admit/realize she can't do most things. Case in point: she tried to do a load a laundry and upon hearing this I darted to the washing machine, only to find she had put an entire cup of detergent in the dryer. I was so angry. Why can't she just ask me to help her? Then I saw her face: she was humiliated. She failed at something so simple, so core to her life as PTA room mother turned travel agent, that it represented to her an entire end to all she is, ever was, and never will be. The next day, the previous night's horrors completely forgotten, she attempted to hem her new pants. I found the needle on the floor of the hall, now roamed by an 11 month old who puts everything in her mouth. "Mom, I found this needle on the floor. I said I would hem your pants," I told her. My mom's response? "I didn't need you to hem the pants. I did it." She didn't grasp the gravity of the situation. My mom will not/cannot change. I will not/cannot change this.

Last thought today - hey- isn't Pink Eye fun? How come I never got this as a child? I think it's because my mom was so much better of a mom than me. Karma can suck.

A little Thanksgivng Scrapbook of my kids' daycare

Make a Smilebox scrapbook

Mad Science

Nolan had a Mad Science birthday party which is amazing, if you aren't familiar. So much fun!(http://www.madscience.com/)

We got to explode stuff, play with dry ice, and make slime; a five year old's dream!

I got a new overhead this week. Amazing what a difference it makes. The old one melted inside. It was there when I started in 1996 so who knows how old it was. I kept the melted part with which to make an art installation. The most unbelievable part - by far - was that fact that it only took 3 phone calls! I am definitely kissing the correct butts!

There is student teacher who joins our little lunch group. We have begun making a list of things she should know to be successful at our work site:

1) horde supplies
2) it if has no one's name on it, take it
3) if you get a good overhead, never let it go

Happy Thanksgiving to all! I am so thankful for my friends, my sublime husband, and all the blessings in my life. I think I must have done something very good in my past life.

All Jumped Out

MaryJane loves this Jumperoo. A Jumperoo is an item a new parent cannot live without. It is a little pricey and is used in a baby's life for 9 months at the most. But, if you have no Jumperoo - or the old stand by The Johnnie Jump Up -I pity you. Here MJ has jumped until she can jump no more.

Eelction in the Eyes of a Five Year Old and other Points to Ponder

My five year old wanted to understand why it was so amazing that Barackobamo (as he calls him) was elected president. This was tricky to explain. After we carefully tried to explain he would be the first black president, he was still confused. He looked on TV which happened to be showing a split screen ofboth cadidates. "They are both black," he said. My husband and I exchanged confused looks. "What?" we asked him. "They are both wearing black outfits." They were.

MaryJane can wave and say, "Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii," when you walk in room. Nothing better. Right up there a dog welcoming you home from vacation or getting Starbucks from a kid for no reason.


Everyone in my house got the flu last week. We fell like dominoes. I feel like I was hit by a truck, driving through my house, fully loaded with dirty laundry, during a huricane. We are still trying to recover. I may never be caught up on laundry again. But my duaghter can say hi.

Halloween Traditions

How could anyone hate Halloween? A bigger question: how could I marry someone who hates Halloween? When my otherwise perfect husband (future husband at the time) told me he hated Halloween in college, I dismissed it. He's kidding. He's not had Halloween with me. This is like when he thought he was a Republican (because of the way he was raised), but when quizzed on the issues and having it explained by a sexy social science major, he realized he was almost as far left as me. It's like growing up thinking you hate (or love) a certain food because of the way your mom made it, but when you get to the real world you realize NO ONE puts mayo on hot dogs. Bummer.

So I talked Jon into carving a pumpkin with me and Nolan. Nolan was soooo excited. He picked this pumpkin at a pumpkin patch all by himself. (See facebook account for way too many pictures of my cuties at pumpkin patches.) Nolan couldn't wait. "When will Dad be home?" "Do we have to wait until after we eat dinner to carve?" "Can I touch the knife?" etc. Finally, Jon got home. We ate. We cleaned off the kitchen table. We threaten Nolan, "If you ask one more time when we are going to carve the pumpkin, you'll just go to bed right now." And the carving began. Although Nolan and I have carved a pumpkin everyone of last 3 three years, he doesn't remember it, so this he considers his first time. He loved it. He designed it to look exactly like the plastic pumpkin you collect candy in: a quintessential jack-o-lantern face. I talked him into little fangs just because my creative urges couldn't be stopped.

We lit it up with parentally correct battery powered fake candle and took pictures. Nolan was so proud. And as Jon and I got ready for bed, I thanked him for doing this with us. I knew he hated every minute, but like the perfect dad he is, he didn't complain about it one syllable. And in the sweetest quiet of 2 kids sleeping, Jon said, "It wasn't as boring as I remember." I consider this one of my finest accomplishments.

MaryJane loves eating these things called "Puffs." They are the miracle food of people with 1-4 teeth. (MJ has 3 "official" teeth, and one on the way.) She adores this food. And she can feed it to herself which is great for moms like me who go a thousand miles an hour and hate to sit for 15 whole minutes while painstakingly feeding jar food one.... bite.... at.....a.... time. The Puffs are actually tasty and come in plenty of flavors like strawberry, banana, and apple. Watch out for the corn flavored ones though (imagine soggy Cap 'N Crunch with absolutely no sugar or salt). I am, as of yet, afraid to read the ingredients, but take comfort in the fact that they are made by Gerber - and how could a big, successful corporation that's been around for years possibly be doing something harmful to the public?

Parenting Disclaimer: I will spend all day long with my kids, as long as we don't sit still. This is usually pretty easy considering they are 8 months and 4 (almost 5) years old. Miss Tammy told me how to do the feeding: a few bits, start making pancakes, a few more, wash up the dishes, another couple bits, sweep up... but you probably already see the problem with that already. You have to like to cook, clean up and spend lots of time in the kitchen.

Learning to Walk

MaryJane Mae is trying to walk. Yes, she is only 8 months old, but she has things to do. So she found some shelves she can reach (attched securely to the wall, thank goodness) except that when she holds on to shelf two and pulls herself up, she conks her head on the first shelf. The poor child looks abused with bruises, cuts and scrapes on her face and head. But she keeps trying.

I can't help but draw a correlation with work on the Touro masters. I keep conking my head, but I keep standing up.

The Magazine Assembly and new words

Another annual magazine sale assembly has come and gone. Highlights include: 1) seeing kids gravitate to their group of friends even though they all sit with their class; 2) 8th graders actually "booing" their peers; 3) seeing that the marching baby plush pigs are back. And...we are told we get lots of money for our school from this fundraiser.

Lately invented several new words I'd like to share:

bitch-bully - a girl bully at middle school
spagufu - the new tofu spaghetti I found. No - stop laughing. I'm serious. And my four year old ate it and didn't even know. He he he (evil laugh of mom infusing protein in child's diet)

Okay, bye for now.
Never tell people if you see visions.

The Legend

Here is the man, the legend himself. He couldn't get down to the stream to fish this summer, but he taught my 5 year old how to fish. The legend lives on.

Not too deep

No deep thoughts today. Shallow, shallow, shallow.

Well, my dad is out of the hospital. I drove three hours to my parents house on Friday. I got my mom's meds adjusted (we hide the Xanax) and brought my dad home. He has been on dialysis since his first bout with Myeloma 5 years ago. He wasn't getting enough fluid off since he continues to lose weight. He had a little pneumonia, but he's okay now. So just back to chemo and dialysis a couple days a week. Geez - what a way to live. And my dad rarely complains (about medical issues that is; Bush is still president for 4 more months!)

Oh - and I set his Tivo to tape Survivor Gabon and the new Dexter. Birdwalk alert! Doesn't it just piss you off that every Survivor has a new name and my Tivo doesn't know to tape it. How many times have I missed the first episode of the season? Is this happening to everyone? Why can't this be fixed. They can put a man on the moon, but .......

Anyway, that stress is off, so it's back to worrying about the important things in life: masters classes, 40th birthday party, organic vs. affordable baby food, and new celebrities on Dancing with the Stars.

Since I'm on the subject of reality TV, let me just say that I am addicted. I make no apologies (unless you count this.) I love it. I often come to think of the people on the show as my personal friends (or enemies.) I can't stand the supercilious bumper sticker "Kill Your Television." If this makes me shallow, well, at least I am honest. My TV would be the one possession I'd take to desert island. Well....only if I had a satellite dish.

My Life

I have compartmentalized my life like Clinton.



I have the teacher part, the mom part, the student part, the daughter part and a couple more parts that have no names. Hmm.... Is this how people develop multiple personalities?



Anyway, the daughter part is overwhelming right now. My dad with multiple myeloma is in the hospital with fluid on his lungs. My mom with MS says she's fine and then asks where has my dad been. When did I get this old? What is the average age that people have to start taking care of their aging parents? I still have a baby in diapers! I guess it's my own fault for waiting to have children until I had a house, a job and a savings account. What kind of fool am I?

AAAhhhhhhhh!