The "I HATE JANUARY" Edition

I freaking hate January! I thought since my little girl was born last Jan. I would come to like it better, but no! I hate the gray weather. I hate the let down from the holidays. They moved the superbowl to February. This year, I had the masters thesis chapter 1 hanging over my head most the month to dampen the only fun thing: MJ's pink poodle birthday party. (Please note pink high top Chucks in the pic to the left.)

I get the blues in January. The kids (students and those living in my house) get cabin fever goofy. My loyal old dog suffers arthritis in the cold, so we leave him in often and clean up his old age accidents. I find January to be the worst month of the year. I bet more people die in Jan. than any other month. We teachers are so broke (see Leiser's blog) we are taking the dimes in the couch to coinstar so we can have a fancy dinner out at Sac's Hotdogs. And it gets dark at like 4 pm. Why don't more people feel this way? I'd like to plan a revolt! Inaugurate the new president Jan. 2, then have MLK day and move on to Valentine's Day. Really! Is there some reason January can't be the 28 day month? One year, FDR moved Tahnksgiving to improve the economy. Isn't this the same thing?

All those in favor of some kind of January boycott please sing up with your comments. Next year, we can change this. It can be a grass roots thing like nominating Sarah Palin VP. OK, so that's a bad example, but join me! The anti-January movement begins now!

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.