Poo-Tee-Wheet

Nine Years at the Minnesota State Fair

2011-08-28T12:07:00.000-07:00

2003

2004

2005, too big for a stroller

2006

2007

2008

2009

9.3.2010, four days before beginning 2nd grade

8.27.2011, nine days before becoming a third grader, in brand new Sketchers (thanks, Grandma Ellen!)

Eryn's sign is a busier place than it has been for the past eight years, and we had to wait for a chance to snap pictures when no one was trying to look at the map. I don't think that's ever happened before. The Jack FM booth isn't set up there this year - instead, the nearest thing is a snowboard and snowboarding clothing tent shop: far more popular than Jack. Eryn showed the first signs of finding the tradition tiresome. Who had their money on age eight?

Eryn's favorite part of the Fair is the rides (shocking, I know). This year, she spent just under half her ride tickets in Kidway, and then discovered the joys of the Midway. She wasn't interested in the biggest rides, but some some new favorites.

The Ladybugs in the Kidway are a perennial favorite. Scooter and I thought she looked bored, but she was excited when she got off the ride and said it went "scary fast" backwards.

Pirate Ships:

On the Sky Glider with me:

Bumper cars on the Midway:

The Scrambler on the Midway is Eryn's new favorite. I had a raspberry malt in the Dairy Barn, so I was happy.

What Physical Therapy Does to My Digestive System: An Illustration

2010-12-29T13:00:00.000-08:00

I saw my physical therapist on Monday. She's been doing a technique she and the other pelvic pain specialist PT person learned recently. It's something to do with the lymphatic system, but I can't remember exactly what the deal is except that it "drains the lymphatic system of excess gunk." I also can't remember how that is meant to help with my messed up nerves, but it is probably something like this:

Theoretically, getting gunk out of my lymphatic system will decrease pressure on my blood vessels, allowing them to increase blood flow to other tissues. In turn, this reduces inflammation and therefore the pressure on the aforementioned damaged nerves.

The technique involves poking me in the ribs until she finds the most sensitive spots (looking for what she calls the "Jump Point"), then holding that spot with a finger on one hand while compressing areas over my stomach and my lower abdomen with her other hand. The problem is that a day after she does this, I feel like I have gastroenteritis (minus the vomiting, though the day is not yet over). I described the sensation to Eryn as being like dinosaurs and monsters trucks battling in my stomach while deranged monkeys use my lower intestines as a bouncy house. She thought it was hysterical.

I spent the last hour drawing this picture instead of finishing my last CEU, because I have been reading entirely too much of Allie Brosh's blog.

P.S. Don't ask me why my stomach is in my upper chest; I have a CEU to complete.

P.P.S. You can click on the pictures to enlarge my lovely illustrations!

Blogger Can't Handle Google SketchUp

2010-12-23T12:57:00.000-08:00

No one can see my attempt at a person, drawn after completely ignoring the presence of tutorials, because Blogger says the file is "corrupted." It isn't corrupted, it just has .skp after it, and Blogger can't figure that out.

Ooo, wait! Maybe I can do a screen capture. I don't know if I'm smart enough to do that, let me check.

Yes, yes I am. See the person on the left? That's not mine; that's the image that was there when I opened a new document thing. I drew the circle head and then tried to use rectangles to do other body parts. When it was obvious it was going badly, I kept going anyway because it made me laugh. I have to stop doing this nonsense now, though, because I promised Scooter I would call the TV repair people today and tell them our big TV is broken again in the same way, and what are they going to do about it.

Bad Banana Bread Makes Me Angry

2010-12-23T10:28:00.000-08:00

Who are all these people who can't make banana bread? It isn't hard. (Neither should the actual bread be, by the way.) A psychologist in my suite said she'd been given banana bread, and had put it out to share (as is the custom among we therapists when clients give us food). So I found myself a piece. It looked dubious, but that's just looks, so I tried it. Now I am angry. How did someone turn bananas into sandpaper? What's with the crunchy bits? There are nuts, but that's not what I'm talking about, so what the heck? I can't get it off my tongue.

This isn't the first time, either. I'm not eating any of that stuff anymore. Maybe the psychologist is doing research on her colleagues.

Eight Years at the Fair

2010-09-06T13:33:00.000-07:00

The photo of Eryn in front of the MN State Fair sign in the far corner of the Fair by the 104.1 Jack FM booth began when Eryn was 4.5 months old, in 2003. I took the original photos in front of that sign on a whim; in 2004, we decided to use the same sign and call it a tradition, and began speculating on when she would refuse to pose for the photo.

We can't cheat and use a sign closer to the things we enjoy at the Fair because of the crack in the cement below the sign. Besides, Eryn knows it's by the Jack booth, and that's her favorite station to listen to if the classical music station is running talk instead of classical music. I doubt the fairgrounds budget includes patching such harmless cracks, so it's this sign for as long as the tradition lasts.

I have never taken to blogging the way Scooter has, but I manage to get first days of school, birthdays and the Fair out here. I'm glad he does his part exceptionally well, or I'd never remember where we went on any vacation, or virtually anything any of us ever does.

Here is the lineup:

2003

2004

2005, too big for a stroller

2006

2007

2008

2009

9.3.2010, four days before beginning 2nd grade

Eryn wasn't holding her stuffed animal purchase because we had convinced her to leave that until we were on our way out. For the record, it is a pink poodle on a stick (no, not like bacon on a stick, cheesecake on a stick, or hotdish on a stick). Eryn delighted in making the poodle "walk" on its leash/stick until we pointed out the ground was filthy and she discovered that after one minute, so were the dog's paws. Then Ginger was a levitating pink poodle. Scooter has published the best photos from the day on his page.

Bad Bovine Humor

2010-07-26T11:58:00.000-07:00

Me: What did the cow saw to the bull who said something ridiculous?

Eryn: I don't know, what?

Me: That's bullshit.

Eryn: Mom! That's silly. What did the cow say when the bull said something ridiculous?

Me: What?

Eryn: That's bullshit.

Me: You just wanted to say "bullshit."

Eryn: Yes!

Seven Years at the Fair

2009-09-02T17:52:00.000-07:00

Here is the growing list of traditional Eryn at the Fair photos:

Shown above with Eryn is her new St. Paul Police Department K-9 officer, whom she named Fire. She bought one two years ago, but cannot find him. I suspect he's in the net over her bed with 45 other small stuffed animals.

Eryn and I rode a go-kart this year ($10!)...

She rode Kidway rides, courtesy of Uncle Kyle...

...went down the Giant Slide ALL BY HERSELF for the first time. Brief hesitation at the top the first time; none at all the second time.

Scooter and Eryn ended the Fair experience on the River Raft Ride. They DID get wet.

Surgery Cost

2009-08-11T14:02:00.001-07:00

I just called HealthEast to find out why I have an enormous bill for the surgery I had on April 28. I figured it couldn't be correct. Then "L" in the billing department told me the total cost for the surgery at Woodwinds was $26,003.59. I couldn't help myself and responded with "WOW!" Then I said, "Well, this is what Obama is talking about, isn't it." L said "No." I said I thought it was. She countered with "No, actually, he's talking about things that happen over and over again." Um, no. Right-wing talking point. Not at ALL what he's talking about. I was about to explain it to her, thought better of it, and said "Never mind. Could you please send me an itemized bill? The one HealthEast sent me just has a lump sum." L said she could do that.

Holy crap. The total cost of having Eryn (by emergency c-section, after induction and 14 hours of labor, followed by five nights in the hospital, was about $13,000, six years ago. They had to take care of Eryn and the anesthesiologist had to tap my spine for an epi two different times (once right after induction and once for a block to do the surgery). My surgeon was there with us for 12 hours. For this surgery, I was in hospital for two nights; I was under anesthesia for three hours. And, we've already paid the non-covered portions for the surgeon and the anesthesiologist. $26K?! WTF?

Scooter says it was the harpist.

SIX!

2009-04-18T20:17:00.000-07:00

Thoroughly enjoying her first sleepover experience:

R.I.P. Cleo

2009-04-10T16:04:00.001-07:00

Younger, healthier, and happy in the sunshine under newborn Eryn's bassinet:

And in the porch window:

This afternoon:

Two days ago:

Decorating, See My Vest, Installing the Angel

2008-12-02T17:35:00.000-08:00

We started the Christmas tree last night. Eryn decided shirts were optional.

Part of the time, Eryn was wearing the new Hello Kitty vest Grandma sent her. It's a huge hit - she wore it to school today, too, though I insisted it have long sleeves under it.

Bailey's introduction to a (fake) Christmas tree. Cleo is an old hat: she's bored. Or annoyed with Bailey. They're equally possible.

This evening, the angel topped the tree. This time, Eryn decided pants were optional, so the picture is taken from a careful angle.

Candy Trouble

2008-10-30T14:50:00.000-07:00

All of those medical/financial/educational forms we all fill out have that sometimes troublesome section where we are to check a box in front of our race (though usually told we may select "choose not to say,") and then list

African-American, Asian, Caucasian/White, American Indian, Other

as our choices. Some of them go a bit farther and include

Samoan, Native Hawaiian, Korean, Asian Indian, Korean, Vietnamese.

I was dumping the bags of Halloween candy Scooter and Eryn bought last week, and quickly saw that it was not going to fit into the one big bowl we typically use. (I bought a black cauldron a few years ago, but I don't know where it is.) I found a second bowl and decided for some maniacal reason to put chocolate-y things in one bowl and "Other" in the - well, other bowl. It was then that I spotted the problem.

First: Tootsie Rolls. Some people will immediately proclaim that they belong with the chocolate. But they don't really taste like chocolate! They taste like Tootsie Roll chocolate. When in the grips of a Chocolate Fit, a Tootsie Roll (or indeed a handful of Tootsie Rolls) might take the edge off it, but certainly does not satisfy it. So where do they go - Chocolate or Other? And don't even get me started on the chocolate-flavored Tootsie Pops.

If you look closely at the Tootsie Roll package, it lists cocoa among its ingredients. Into the Chocolate bowl they went. The Tootsie Pops I decided belonged with their cherry, orange and root beer cousins in Other.

Now I wonder if I'm a bigot.

Water Jets and Grizzlies

2008-09-10T22:10:00.000-07:00

We hadn't been to the "New Zoo" since before the addition of the grizzlies (and sea otters, and wild boar), so I was pleasantly surprised when Eryn and I got there on Labor Day a few hours after Scooter and I put Sandy down - and found a beautifully designed new exhibit. Here is Eryn, clearly not enjoying herself at all, in the "lava tube" inside of which is the grizzly enclosure.

The new water jet/Russian animal sculpture area just before the entrance to the Russian Coast exhibits is the reason she is soaked to the skin:

The grizzlies:

When the bears come up to the glass (and they do it often), this is how close you are to the (HUGE) animals - no tricky camera zooming:

Pretty amazing exhibit. Reminder to Self: take Ben up on going Behind The Scenes to take pictures for Rony's room. That has got to be cool.

I Love The Smell of Toast in the Morning (But I'm Confused)

2008-09-03T09:34:00.000-07:00

Last night I accidentally set my alarm for 7:55 instead of 6:55, so when I checked the time at 7:47, I hopped out of bed (well, limped) and went straight to wake Eryn, who grumbled at me but understood time was of the essence. We got her to school just as Morning Meeting was beginning, so mission accomplished for her second day of Kindergarten. I was obviously not ready for work, but luckily had no clients until 11:00 (which turned out to be a no-show anyway, but that's a different matter), so I could go home and get myself ready with no problem. Here comes the weird part: when I got out of the car at home around 8:45, the air smelled strongly of toast. It's breakfast time, yeah, but how does one make a neighborhood smell like toast? I had visions of thousands of RAGBRAI breakfast seekers, but to my knowledge, thousands of bicyclists are not descending upon my neighborhood. This evening, will the neighborhood smell of spaghetti?

R.I.P. Sandra Dee

2008-09-01T17:10:00.000-07:00

1995-2008.

Scooter already explained.

Here's my other favorite picture of her:

The stream of water from the squirt bottle never stood a chance.

Six Years at The Fair

2008-08-26T19:57:00.000-07:00

My favorite picture from the Fair:

It's my favorite because it's sweet and it will be the last photo of Eryn doing this. Eryn loves the Little Farm Hands area, where kids can have "real farm" experience: they feed animals, pick apples, plant seeds, and wear aprons and John Deere antler visors, just like real farmers. Eryn is only five, but she's almost too tall to ride the pedal-powered tractor. She'll be sad next year.

It's Been So Long Since I've Blogged

2008-08-26T19:56:00.000-07:00

(How long has it been?)

It's been so long, I forgot which email address I used as my login.

Favorite Photos

2008-06-25T20:05:00.000-07:00

Kyle has declared that I do not blog enough (he's right), and requested more photos...presumably of subjects other than Eryn, though I'm guessing not entirely exclusive of her, either.

These are my favorites from the Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs, Colorado:

If you use a texture from Ghostbones and mess with the photo a bit, it takes on a slightly surreal effect. I have to play with this more. It seems able to produce some very funky effects. This one mostly just muted the colors and softened the edge of the rock line. I'll keep trying:

First Pictures with the Nikon D40

2008-05-17T18:31:00.000-07:00

I'm so excited! Can you tell?

First picture taken: the owl intended to scare the dang bunnies out of the strawberry patch. I don't know if it's the owl or the fencing around the garden, but the bunnies are finally leaving the plants alone.

Second: the garden crab that stands in monument to Eryn's favorite fish, LaurieFish I. (LaurieFish II is in residence in Eryn's aquarium).

Third: tulip from back garden.

Later: Eryn with the Snowdrift Crab Poppa got for her two years ago.

Later still: Collin, happily playing with his baby gym, even with me flashing a bright light in his face.

Let's Go Fly A Kite

2008-05-13T17:55:00.000-07:00

Scooter will undoubtedly blog his and Eryn's geocaching adventure from yesterday, but I wanted to post a couple of pictures from her first kite flying experience. Well, her first involved running around the back yard a lot trying to get her Cars kite into the air, because I bought it early in the day when it was quite windy, but by the time we got home, there was almost no breeze.

On the way to Oak Terrace East ark to meet Scooter and Eryn with a picnic dinner, I realized it was perfect kite-flying weather, but I had left E's kite at home. A quick trip through Walgreen's, and I had a new $4 kite: a toucan with "Real Wing-Flapping Action!" Here are E and S flying "Toucany" (if you're Eryn), or "Kitey" (if you're Scooter and want to mock Eryn's propensity to name everything by adding a "y" to the end of the noun that describes it):

And here is Eryn, already doing advanced kite tricks:

Video is here on You Tube.

FIVE!

2008-04-23T18:16:00.000-07:00

Terror On Ice

2008-03-22T21:38:00.001-07:00

I'm frightened. Scooter is watching Blades of Glory. I'm going to go read a book.

Why Fanaticism is Scary

2007-11-29T13:31:00.000-08:00

I heard this on Thom Hartmann this afternoon and had to go look it up because I couldn't believe it wasn't a joke.

A British teacher, teaching in Sudan - oh, just read the Reuters story:

KHARTOUM (Reuters) - A British teacher accused of insulting Muslims after her class called a teddy bear Mohammad spent more than five hours behind closed doors in a Khartoum courtroom on Thursday as a judge heard the case against her.
In London, British Foreign Secretary David Miliband told the Sudanese ambassador he was concerned about the teacher, 54-year-old Gillian Gibbons, who was arrested and charged after one of the school staff reported her to the authorities.
"We believe that this was an innocent misunderstanding," Miliband said in a statement.
A member of Gibbons's defence team quoted the judge as saying he wanted to finish the case on Thursday and court sources said the session could be over by 8 p.m. (1700 GMT).
Sudanese state media said on Wednesday that Gibbons faced charges of insulting Islam, inciting hatred and showing contempt for religious beliefs because of the toy's name. If convicted, she could face 40 lashes, a fine, or one year in jail.
While Gibbons was inside, Sudanese authorities just outside the building gave a man some 20 lashes with a stiff leather whip, meters (yards) away from where the British consul, Russell Phillips, was sitting waiting on a chair. What offence the victim had committed was not clear.
In court, judge Mohammed Youssef listened to two accounts -- one from school secretary Sarah Khawad, who filed the first complaint about the teddy bear's name, and one from the official who has been investigating the case, court sources said.
In a sign that the Sudanese authorities might accept an apology and drop the charges, the spokesman for the Sudanese embassy in London said he thought that Gibbons had made an innocent mistake in endorsing the children's choice of a name.
"I hope the charges will be dropped and I hope she will be released but I also hope that people will understand that the whole thing came about because of insensitivity on her part," spokesman Khaled al-Mubarak told the BBC.
He added: "She is a mature teacher. She has had many students. She must have read the newspapers. She must have been aware of what's happening in the world."
Teachers at the school say that calling the teddy bear Mohammad, the name of the prophet of Islam, was not her idea in the first place and that no parents objected when Gibbons sent parents circulars about a reading project which included the teddy bear as a fictional participant.
The bear was first introduced to the class in September.
Gibbons, wearing a long dark blue skirt and black blazer, looked bewildered as she entered the court on Thursday afternoon, guided by police as she weaved through the crowds of officials, journalists and onlookers.
Ajib said Gibbons was calm when the verdict was read, as if she had been expecting it.
She was taken straight to Omdurman women's prison, a jail which is overcrowded and usually filled with women serving sentences for making and selling alcohol, illegal in mainly Muslim Sudan.
British Foreign Secretary David Miliband had earlier said in a statement "We believe this was an innocent misunderstanding."
Sudan has had poor relations with Britain, the United States and most European countries for several years, mainly because of their disagreements over how to handle the conflict in the Darfur region in western Sudan.
The U.N. Security Council, of which Britain is a permanent member, wants to deploy a joint U.N.-African force to Darfur to restore order and help displaced people return home. Khartoum reluctantly agreed but is disputing many details.
"I'm utterly disappointed with this decision. We have been calling on the Sudanese authorities to show leniency, that this was a case of an innocent oversight, a misunderstanding, and there was no need for this to ... be escalated ..." said Ibrahim Mogra of the Muslim Council of Britain, the country's largest Muslim organization.
"We are very hopeful that perhaps the appeals process will be more successful," he added.
"The question that I would want the judiciary there and the authorities to ponder over is: How does this help the cause of Islam? What kind of message and image are we portraying about our religion and our culture?"
(Reporting by Opheera McDoom and Andrew Heavens, additional reporting by Adrian Croft in London; Writing by Jonathan Wright; Editing by Tim Pearce)

© Reuters 2007. All Rights Reserved.

So, Gibbons was supposed to stop her seven-year-old students from naming the bear what they wanted to name it? Presumably she was supposed to shame the students for suggesting it. Maybe she should've smacked them around - given them the kid version of the governmental beating to which she could have been sentenced. I love that the judge's name is Mohammad - there's such lovely randomness to fanatical religious rules. A person can have the prophet's name, but not a beloved stuffed toy. Were the judge's parents daring to suggest that their progeny could possibly be as good and holy a person as the Prophet? How dare they? Forty lashes for hubris!

While I'm at it...lashes?! Are they kidding? Some systems will never give up the barbaric practice of beating people who break laws (or are culturally insensitive). Seems like a desperate attempt to maintain control over a frightened populace. She actually received 15 days in jail - ludicrous in itself - but people can die from being beaten like that.

I'm sure Gibbons is heartbroken she's being deported. Oh, no, let me stay! Pfth!

I'm naming my next cat Mohammad. {singing} Mohammad! Mohammad! Mohammad!" (Ouch! All right, who threw that rock?!)

Things I Didn't Need to Know

2007-11-20T11:28:00.000-08:00

...but CNN thought it was necessary to tell me over lunch:

(1) Most people in the Chicago-O'Hare airport prefer stuffing with their turkeys.
(2) The reporter doing the impromptu poll re: dressing vs. stuffing prefers dressing.
(3) The above reporter prefers dressing because she's originally from New Orleans.
(4) Kanye West attended his mother's, Donda's, funeral today.

No, I'm not linking to any of that crap. At least they did better than MSNBC and spent some time on Iraq, Iran and Pakistan, unlike the last time I watched the news at D.Brian's over my lunch.

Eryn Simpson

2007-10-03T19:10:00.000-07:00

Eryn as a Simpsons character, via Simpsonize Me.

Eryn and Papa Made the Thursday Daily!

2007-10-02T10:03:00.000-07:00

...illustrating Eryn's very first school field trip. She and her classmates (along with my father) went to the Applewood Orchard in Lakeville. Dad said it was a successful trip, pointing out that it was a group of preschoolers and no one got lost, got hurt, had a meltdown, or threw up. Dad has some pictures posted on his blog.

Cars Jammies

2007-09-13T09:58:00.000-07:00

Eryn was getting ready for bed two nights ago and was dressed in one of her sets of Cars pajamas. She has been big into rhyming - real words, created words - it doesn't matter to her (nor should it). She was dancing around, in a wonderful mood, and began singing "Mater Fellater, Mater Fellater..." I was going to tell Scooter, knowing he would chuckle, but I forgot about it until last night when we were watching Inside Deep Throat. His response was something like "Why didn't you blog that?! When she's 18 she needs to know she was dancing around singing about Mater Fellater."

So, to Eryn in 2021: I'm sorry, Honey; it had to be done. At four, you were funny as hell. I bet you still are.

So Big

2007-09-04T07:29:00.000-07:00

Scooter and I took Eryn to Tesseract this morning, for the beginning of her formal education. She's in Preschool, but it's full-time...so she's in full-time school from now (age 4) until she's 18. I got most of the way home before I started crying, and the real drama hit when I shut off the car. Scooter is used to this - he said goodbye to her during the days a long time ago; I, on the other hand, have had two days a week at home with her. She and I called them "Stay Home With Mommy" days.

The first picture is Eryn on her way toward the school with Daddy.

At the front door:

With her new teacher, Ms. Jen:

With her First Day Name Tag:

Cousin J. (in the blue) in Morning Meeting, who is in 4th grade this year (his brother, S., is in 2nd grade, but I missed my chance at a photo):

And, back in the Orange Room on the group mat, ready to get going:

But...this is my little girl, when she was first "so big!"

Five Years at the Fair

2007-08-25T18:39:00.000-07:00

I Prefer "Suicide is Painless"

2007-08-15T19:32:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, it was the theme from Barney Miller that was playing on the Muzak channel in my office waiting room this afternoon.

Now I'm going to have to get a Newhart couch.

LissyJo, Certified Nurse Practitioner

2007-07-24T18:27:00.000-07:00

LissyJo passed her CNP exam with flying colors! She scored an amazing 92% (it's my understanding that this is really, really high on this exam), which is precisely why no one but she was worried about whether she would pass.

Congratulations, LissyJo! We look forward to bumping into you at the clinic.

RAGBRAI XXXV*

2007-07-23T00:41:00.000-07:00

Eryn and I dropped off Scooter and John in Rock Rapids, Iowa on Saturday so they could camp and prepare for the beginning of the ride. The first leg took them from Rock Rapids to Spencer - 75.7 miles in 90+ degree heat.

Scooter and John found some AC and a place to plug in phones in Spencer, so Eryn and I got to talk to him. He said it was hot and a lot of biking. Hm. No shade amongst the corn and soy bean fields?

There is a camera atop the Iowa Telecom van that updates a photo every minute, at certain times during the ride. Yesterday it was trained on Melvin, where 10,000 riders descended for lunch.

The window in which you can view the photos says "Pictures taken from the Iowa Telecom trailer at the evening RAGBRAI stops," but it's been showing an empty park bench since 5:16 last evening, so I don't know that it has the best description. It did a great job of showing what was going on mid-day yesterday, though. I may even have caught my FIL on the camera - I'll upload that when I'm on the other machine so the rest of the family can scrutinize it and decide if it's really him. Scooter said the time I saw the photo was during the time they were in Melvin, so it's possible.

* That's RAGBRAI 35 for anyone educated after No Child Left Behind went into effect.

Move On

2007-07-12T11:17:00.000-07:00

I love this:

Bush acknowledged publicly for the first time that someone in his administration perhaps leaked [Plame's] name to the news media.

In the same yammering, he said it was time to "move on." Yeah, I guess if you're going to (essentially) pardon the man you tapped to disrupt the investigation, we might as well move on.

But - BUT, if W is invoking executive privilege in telling Miers not to testify, isn't he acknowledging a role in the conversations about which she was meant to testify? If he wasn't involved in the firing of the attorneys - and he insists he wasn't - how can he invoke executive privilege?

As we leave these hallowed halls...

2007-06-04T14:14:00.000-07:00

let us remember that firm belief in our religious convictions gives us the right to talk about those beliefs, at length, at inopportune times.

Found this at Pharyngula:

"The [Jacksonville, Florida] valedictorian's speech was about Jesus Christ and suggested those who don't believe would go to hell.

"I want to tell you that Jesus Christ can give you eternal life in heaven," Spaulding said before the crowd. "If we die with that sin on our souls, we will immediately be pulled down to hell to pay the eternal price for our sins ourselves."

Some woman (ah, hell: Carileen Bollinger), who was in attendance at the high school graduation, said these ideas were important to her, and she was valedictorian, so she had a right to say them. A right? Yes, maybe. Interesting question, given this was a public school...though there's usually some preacher delivering a prayer even at public school grad ceremonies, isn't there. Sigh. Even if she does have the right, it's tremendously obnoxious. I would have thought so before I quit God. I wonder how Carileen Bollinger would have felt if the valedictorian had been Muslim. Or Wiccan.

Mommy Blogging

2007-05-26T19:46:00.000-07:00

Because this is just a damn cute picture.

Where is the rest of the world?

2007-05-22T11:43:00.000-07:00

I watched MSNBC for forty minutes over lunch today, and the closest they got to talking about anything international was two humpback whales in San Francisco. I had to stop watching after 40 minutes. Maybe I should give them the benefit of the doubt, and assume they spent the next 40 minutes - at least - talking about things outside the U.S.? I don't know...they spent about two minutes talking about David Hasselhoff's drinking problem.

Birthday Gear

2007-05-07T13:26:00.000-07:00

My folks got Eryn some spring clothes as part of her birthday present. As Eryn is so big for her age, she and I needed to exchange every item. (No matter how well you think you've got it figured out, if she's not along for the shopping, it's too small.) So, here's one ensemble. Those pants, by the way, Mana, are a size 8. I'm not kidding.

Grandma Ellen and Grandpa John sent Eryn a Dora purse, which he loves. It went with her to music class this morning, stuffed with Littlest Pet Shop pets, a puppet, some jingle bells, and a prism viewer thingy. The bells, at least, were apropos.

That My Little Pony in the first picture? She bought that herself. I took her to Toys R Us because she had declared she wanted to use some of her Own Money to buy a couple more pets from the above mentioned Littlest Pet Shop (compliments Andrew, Jackie, Oliver and Arthur), but when she saw the walking/talking My Little Pony, she changed gears. "I saw a commercial for that and I have ALWAYS WANTED IT!"

FOUR!

2007-04-18T07:20:00.000-07:00

Eryn understands what her birthday means this year. She's excited about turning four, she's excited about her upcoming party...she's excited about presents.

That's it: Eryn's excited. You were expecting more? This is my attempt at blogging. I think I've forgotten how to do it.

Hey! I was awake at this time, four years ago! Of course, then there was a little girl wedged inside me, daring me to just try it. Yes, I know I split my infinitive. Leave me alone, I am remembering labor.

Wife Swap Fans, Please Step Forward!

2007-03-05T11:13:00.000-08:00

I heard there was an episode on last Thursday (3/1) in which the mother put a young boy into a box as punishment. The boy's father allowed this to happen, as did all the TV people hanging around. That's so messed up I can't even describe it. Anyone know the episode? Is there a clip of this online anywhere? I expected to see it on YouTube, but can't find it.

A Gorilla Mooned Me

2007-02-26T12:45:00.000-08:00

...and I took a picture, because I'm just that kind of overgrown child.

Eryn, LissyJo, Niece A and I went to Como for a couple of hours today.

Highlights included a snowball fight;

- the construction of a snow sculpture on the path that Eryn entitled "Snowman with Scorpion Babies;"

-evidence of why one shouldn't open the digital camera in the new tropical area;

- a monkey feeling brave behind the glass; and

- the same silverback from the first photo, peeing. Unfortunately, I stopped filming just before he turned around, walked to the "far" side of this little pool, and began to drink. I'm sure his urine wasn't in that part yet.

One more, because it's cute: Eryn and A, in front of the Spider Monkeys.

I don't want to talk about the tarantula (HUGE) or the mice (little, but running around loose in the tropical area.)

Maybe This Really Is Minnesota?

2007-02-25T09:09:00.000-08:00

Now, if only the Autotrack on my car hadn't gone wonky, so that with every vaguely slippery patch, the tires just give up and spin.

Tripping Over A Mousetrap

2007-02-21T12:00:00.000-08:00

A la J Money (except I am not nearly as funny), I will now subject anyone who chooses to read this post to whinging about my work place. I have to be up front about the fact that my workplace is - for me, at least - far preferable to many, including those I've had. I don't have to deal with things I did in previous employment. Here's what I don't have to deal with anymore, in chronological order:

Coca-Cola Taste Test Administrator: "Can I have the whole can?"
alternatively: "Do you have Max Headroom in the van with you?"

Order Filler For Music Company: The temp agency sold it by suggesting I would be packing boxes with sheet music orders in the back room of a music store. Um...no. It was actually a non-climate-controlled two story warehouse. My first day of what was meant to be a one-week stint, it was 90 degrees outside and raining. They opened the monster truck sized garage door at noon to let some "air" in. I was 17 and college bound, and all the other workers were women in their 40's and 50's who had been working factory or warehouse jobs since they were 17. At noon, I got on the phone and used the fact that I had broken my big toe the day before starting to convince the temp agency I couldn't do this job. Broken toe + up and down stairs and ladders all day = my ticket the hell out of there.

Receptionist, Construction Company: More loveliness from the temp agency. Mostly it was me answering phones and explaining to the guys in the back/warehouse that I wasn't going to go out drinking with them because I was 17, and that was also the reason I wasn't going to go home with any of them. Yeah...that was the reason.

Concessions Monkey, Northtown Cinema:
Every Other Customer: Which pop is the large?
Concessions Monkey: The one that's biggest.
EOC: Which one is that?
CM [pointing to cups sitting on the counter directly in front of EOC]: The largest one is the large.
EOC: Oh, okay. How big is the medium?

Coffee/Eggs/Pizza Monkey, 24-hour Dive Restaurant: Do I even have to explain this one? Does it help if I tell you that this particular dive restaurant was across the street from a bar in the northern Twin Cities suburbs?

Secondary School Substitute Teacher: Where do I start? With my first day, where a 7th grader in remedial reading pierced his ear with the pointy thing on the eraser doohicky on his mechanical pencil, stood there bleeding on my desk and insisting he didn't need to go to the nurse? Or the six-foot eighth grader whom I had to physically prevent from throwing a desk at a much smaller classmate? You get the idea. Think those incidents x 7 years. Part-time, which saved most of my sanity. Well, slivers of it.

(Second Round of Graduate School - yay, I got it right this time!)

Psychotherapist, Residential Treatment for Prostitutes with Substance Dependence: Male boss (only man involved in the entire program) who insisted on getting his emotional needs met through the clients. Ew, ew, ew.

Now I'm in private practice. I don't even have partners to accommodate! But...I rent space. (Did I hear a shoe drop?) There are issues, of course. The salesman in the office next to me is so loud I can hear every word of his phone conversations through our shared wall. His fake-friendly-used-car-salesman laugh is incredibly distracting. Not the sort of thing that blends well with people trying very hard to talk about incredibly painful feelings and experiences. The sink/coffee station is outside my office door. My fault for selecting this office int he suite, but it truly wasn't a problem until Big-Haired-Widowed-But-Loudly-Dating-Octogenarian-Receptionist started. She is loud about everything, including her new boyfriend, but especially at the coffee station. She actually yells from there to the reception area, to ask the other receptionist where the coffee is - (isn't it where it always is, and if not, why not?) - or just to continue their conversation about the Oscars or why it's great "That Arab Guy"was killed by U.S. soldiers in Baghdad.

So, on to today. After my first session, I walked out to get a glass of water. Big Hair was there making new decaf. We had this conversation:

Big Hair: Oh, hey, Pooteewheet, Clint wanted to know if there's any way you could put that thing [white noise machine] inside your office.
PTW: Who's Clint?
Big Hair: Um, you know, Clint B., of B&B? (not owners or managers of the building; accounting firm 2 floors down)
PTW: Huh. No.
Big Hair: He said it looks like a mousetrap. Or someone will trip over it, and then we'd be responsible.
PTW: Trip over it. You mean, like this? [I have to lean against my office door as I walk even to come into contact with the white noise machine set outside it.]

A mouse trap? With an electrical cord attached? And no hole?

The best bit is that Big Hair is a bigger reason than Sales Guy for my putting that thing out there in the first place. It functions more to remind her to shut the hell up than it does actually to block noise.

Blue Eye Shadow

2007-02-16T22:15:00.000-08:00

The Scene:
Northern Twin Cities suburb Walgreens, 8:00 p.m., Saturday night. The register.

The Players:
Eryn, age 3.75, with mother on her way home from grandparents' home

Cashier with Fake Eyelashes and Copious Amounts of Blue Eye Shadow (henceforth known as "Blue")

The Background:
Approaching a Walgreens by car, Eryn's mother remembers they had used the last Pull-Up in the house the previous night, and inquires whether Eryn would be willing to use a diaper for one night. Indignant at such a suggestion, Eryn says they should stop and get some Pull-Ups. She adds that she wants to get Cars Pull-Ups, pointing out that "I know they are made for boys, but I don't care!" Her mother tries to make a point about silly sexist marketing schemes, to which Eryn responds "I don't care, I like Cars!"

Eryn [putting package of Cars Pull-Ups on the counter]: I LOVE Cars!
Blue: Ooo, me too!!!! Corvettes, and BMWs, and Cadillacs! Ohhhh, and PORCHES!!!!!!
Eryn: I was talking about the movie.
Blue: You're going to love cars, too, when you grow up!!!!!!!!!!

For tips on how to apply blue eye shadow, this will help.

How Difficult Is This?

2007-02-15T10:18:00.000-08:00

A quick trip to the neighborhood Cub Foods last night left me muttering under my breath about useless bastards who cannot peek outside their own desires for two seconds and consider that there is a world outside themselves.

Returning to my car, parked a few spaces down from the handicapped spots in my row, I saw that two carts had been parked in the open handicapped parking spot. Which, by definition, makes it not open. I don't mean on the line that separates one spot from its opposite in the next aisle - poised to blow into some poor schmuck's vehicle who will probably put his/her cart away when he/she returns - but parked solidly in the space, like they belonged there.

I put my things in my car, put my cart in the corral, and then went to get those two carts. I decided the person who left the second cart was the bigger jackass. What's the thinking here? "Hey! What a good idea! Then I don't have to walk an extra 25 feet to put my cart away." Perhaps the ever-popular "Well, he did it!"

More demoralizing: as I was driving out of the lot, I saw that there were two carts in an "open" handicapped space in the next aisle.

It was cold out there last night. I think next trip, I'm parking my car on the sidewalk in front of the store and leaving my cart on top of an old lady.

It's Cursed

2007-02-05T15:48:00.000-08:00

Remember this post about turning over a rental property, how much it sucked, and how disgusting were the previous tenants? Either Scooter or I also ranted about how much it sucked even more, kicking a tenant out of the same house six months later and having to clean up her disaster. GREAT NEWS! The new tenants in that house called Scooter's brother to say they might have the February rent on Friday. Um, February 9th. It's their first full month in the place (they moved in mid-month, so only had to pony up half.) They said "We ran into extra bills." Oh, well, then that's okay. We'll just cover it until you decide to get your act together.

Scooter wondered "So where the [bleep] is the portion they do have?!" Excellent question.

Gymnastics II

2007-02-03T20:22:00.000-08:00

This is Eryn monkeying around with classmates before formal class began today. Apologies for the terrible photo quality. It's tough to get good shots from halfway across a very large gymnasium.

She did much better on the balance beam this time, despite a serious malfunctioning of her wardrobe:

Introduction to Leotards

2007-02-03T08:08:00.000-08:00

New! From Aunt LissyJo. If you need to see the live-action version, here it is.

Lord of the Flies, Eagan Style

2007-02-02T13:34:00.000-08:00

The sign behind Eryn should read "WARNING: Other people's children will piss you off. Your kid might bug you, too."

I nearly titled this post "Your Kid Is A Cretin," but I would have had to have added the subtitle "and Mine is Kind of a Whinger," so I skipped it.

It's damn cold today, so it seemed as if half of Eagan was at The Blast. I figured that was great - Eryn could play with a bunch of other kids, and I could read my stuff for class. Alas, it was not to be. Eryn has not yet acquired the skill set required to ignore pushy little buggers. Mom, some boy said I couldn't go in there! Mom, those boys are punching the things hanging from the ceiling, and I can't even get through! Mom, they were chasing me! Mom, they have sharpened sticks! Mom, those two girls told me I can't go up in the rocket - they told me "NO!" right in my face! She'd go try to do something, and Pushy Little Bugger would be in her way, and she'd try saying "Excuse me," (which you can hear in the video below), but when PLB didn't move, she came running back to me to whinge about it. I had to make the speech where one explains that "even when we are very nice and try to share and play nicely, not everyone acts nice all the time. If someone is mean to you or says you can't play, you can ignore them or tell them they're not in charge. If someone hurts you, you should come tell me, but if they're just being mean, you need to stand up for yourself." Then I had to explain what standing up for yourself means.

The Pushy Little Buggers become the adults who can't merge. No! This is my lane!

In the video below, you can experience the whinging for yourself.

Preschooler Gymnastics

2007-01-27T15:59:00.000-08:00

Today was Eryn's first time at Gymnastics class. It was held at Rosemount High School, and she was fascinated by the Big Kids' School and the Big Kids' Lockers. She was far more fascinated by the trampoline and the bar.

Video at this link is Eryn on the trampoline with Coach Jason. This one is Eryn on the bar.

Woah...Vintage

2007-01-20T14:12:00.000-08:00

I've joined my sister and brother-in-law in the practice of ebay-ing toys from our collective childhood. (Witness the 1973 Fisher Price Circus Train.) No flat car and no giraffe, but Eryn's pretty darn happy.

Oh, and she's sporting her new "gymnastics clothes." First class in one week.

This is how I know I'm old

2007-01-10T10:03:00.000-08:00

My parents sent me money for my birthday and noted that I was to spend it on a "luxury." No problem, I thought.

The first thing I thought was that it would be a luxury to have a new windshield (mine has a horrid crack). Wow, was that weak. Scrap that idea.

Next, I thought I could put the money into the Garage Door Fund. Ack, even worse.

Then, finally I thought about getting a massage. Cool! And...then...I dropped it. Seemed like a waste.

Yesterday I spent the money on a new comforter for Scooter's and my bed. That's something for both of us, and something we needed but would put off because it wasn't really necessary. I was really excited about buying a comforter. Yep, closer to 40 than 30.

(Thanks for the comforter, Mom and Dad!)

Get off the bench, Skinny!

2007-01-10T09:55:00.000-08:00

Ask the Cookie Queen: the benches in the sitting area in medical clinics are there so that people who are heavier than average have a comfortable place to sit. They are not there so you can have extra space between you and the numerous vacant chairs around you. What do you expect, a very heavy person to have to ask you to move, please, so he/she can sit?

Cheater Hawk

2007-01-10T09:40:00.000-08:00

On my way home from my office yesterday I saw a hawk perched atop a bluebird house next to 35E. I'm pretty sure that's poor sportsmanship in the avian community.

Movie Meme

2007-01-02T07:59:00.000-08:00

I've been tagged by She Says:

1. Name a movie that you have seen more than 10 times.
Grease, Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Am I allowed to name two? Wait: also everything by Pixar.

2. Name a movie that you've seen multiple times in the theater.
Again, Grease.

3. Name an actor that would make you more inclined to see a movie.
Michael J. Fox (never really got over my junior high crush), but only if it was more like The Frighteners than Doc Hollywood. Ew. Also Philip Seymour Hoffman - he was scary good in Owning Mahoney. On the female side: Neve Campbell, Helen Mirren.

4. Name an actor that would make you less likely to see a movie.
I agree with She Says: Tom Cruise. Will Ferrell pretty much kills things for me too, though I've heard from at least two reliable sources that Stranger Than Fiction is worthwhile. If it's any good, I plan to argue it's because of Emma Thompson. Female: Juliette Lewis. [shudder]

5. Name a movie that you can and do quote from.
Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Training Day ("Man the fuck up!")

6. Name a movie musical that you know all of the lyrics to all of the songs.
Grease, The Little Mermaid, possibly also A Chorus Line.

7. Name a movie that have been known to sing along with.
Grease, Finding Nemo ("just keep swimming...")

8. Name a movie that you would recommend everyone see.
Fahrenheit 9/11. Get with the program, eh.

9. Name a movie that you own.
How about a smattering, from several genres? Dawn of the Dead, Practical Magic, Life of Brian, Pitch Black.

10. Name an actor that launched his/her entertainment career in another medium but who has surprised you with his/her acting chops.
I can't be original here: Cher and Will Smith. Oh! Jon Bon Jovi is actually a decent actor (Moonlight and Valentino.) Really.

11. Have you ever seen a movie in a drive-in? If so, what?
Scooter and I saw Mermaids at the Hi-65 in Blaine, years ago when we were dating. It was followed by a horror flick, but neither of us can remember what it was.

12. Ever made out in a movie?
Not so much. (Not a slight to Scooter.)

13. Name a movie that you keep meaning to see but just haven't yet gotten around to it.
Wait Until Dark.

14. Ever walked out of a movie?
Sadly, no. I considered it during Hostel - lots of gross with not much story. Gross is just fine if there's a good story. I have, on the other hand, walked out of a live comedy show - from the first row, no less.

15. Name a movie that made you cry in the theater.
Saving Private Ryan.

16. Popcorn?
Most times. With Scooter, no reconstituted butter-flavored stuff; without him, always.

17. How often do go to the movies (as opposed to renting them or watching them at home)?
Probably once a month. Scooter and I tend to go in shifts, so we don't need a babysitter but can at least talk about what we saw. He hasn't forgiven me for The Cave, but I maintain that was his fault for not checking the reviews. Turd held up to a light bulb, indeed.

18. What's the last movie you saw in the theater?
Charlotte's Web. Guess who my date was?

19. What's your favorite/preferred genre of movie?
I'm torn. I enjoy good horror/suspense films, but if I were stranded on a desert island with only one genre...indy. I wouldn't want my brain to rot. Plus, there might be monsters on the island.

20. What's the first movie you remember seeing in the theater?
Star Wars.

21. What movie do you wish you had never seen?
An American Haunting. Wow, was that stupid. My mother once rented something called Heartbeeps with Andy Kaufman and Bernadette Peters that might be the all-time worst movie. With so many options, it's tough to choose.

22. What is the weirdest movie you enjoyed?
Julien Donkey-Boy. You're so stupid you hit yourself in the head. Oops, this one should be under #5.

23. What is the scariest movie you've seen?
The Exorcist. Scared the hell out of me when I was eight, and continues to be scary.

24. What is the funniest movie you've seen?
Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I'm sure there are others, but no others where people fart in other people's "general direction." In bad French accents.

Tag, Scooter, LissyJo, Cookie Queen, and She Says (#s 21, 22, 23, 24).

Waiting For Fondue

2006-12-24T18:03:00.000-08:00

Ankle

2006-12-21T12:47:00.000-08:00

She's tall because she's Scooter's daughter, and she trips on stairs and sprains her ankle because she's mine.

It's not broken, but the GP wasn't comfortable diagnosing the three-year-old who won't put any weight on the injured foot, so Eryn and Scooter have an appointment with an orthopedist this afternoon. If it's not broken, and it hurts enough she won't step on it, doesn't that pretty much make it a sprain? Any reason to do anything other than wrap it? LissyJo?

December 18, 1993

2006-12-19T05:51:00.000-08:00

SpinArt! (nothing to do with bunnies)

2006-12-18T10:23:00.000-08:00

Eryn has discovered SpinArt, courtesy of Ming, Julie and Logan. (She loves it - thanks, guys!)

Video demonstration of SpinArt technique at YouTube.

Lessons Learned from a Dead Bunny

2006-12-15T12:48:00.000-08:00

1. If you leave the bunny to get later, the crows will turn it from a gory disgusting mess into a gory disgusting mess with rabbit shit all over it - and not the pellet-y kind.

2. And they will string out the intestines, but you won't notice when you pick up the headless body, because they look like the neighbor's willow twigs when they're all spread out like that.

3. And then when you go back out to look for the head in case it's around somewhere (and you don't want your three-year-old to find it), you will notice the entrails and you will have to pick them up.

4. If you never pick up bunny entrails with a stick again, that will be fine with you.

5. If you pick up bunny intestines with a stick, you will be able to see very clearly the point inside the bunny's system at which bunny shit changes from liquid into bunny pellets.

6. The pellets are preferable.

7. While making sure you got all the entrails, you might stumble across the site of the actual bunny killing (as opposed to the more obvious body-dump site).

8. A bunny shits itself when its head is bitten off.

9. You might have that look on your face for a while.

10. You may never find the head.

Not Safe For: Bunny Lovers, Small Children, or Bunnies. Seriously.

2006-12-15T08:03:00.000-08:00

Listen, I warned you. I've disguised the full extent of the grotesquery, but of course you can tell that this is an ex-bunny. The only question is: what's hunting in my yard? Hobbs, the neighbor cat, chitters at sparrows and annoys our cat, but he's no bunny decapitater (decapitatist?) So, what? Fox? Coyote? Both are around. Unfortunately, Christy, I cannot determine whether this was the end of Cancer Bunny. The necessary end of the bunny is missing.

Wait, there is one more question: whether I will clean this up before Scooter comes home.

A Pictorial to Annoy Scooter

2006-12-06T12:59:00.000-08:00

9 Ice Cubes

2006-12-06T12:11:00.000-08:00

Between having my head fiddled with and fiddling with other people's heads this morning, I stopped in Caribou for a dose of white cocoa (mmm...white cocoa...) and found myself in line behind a woman in her early twenties. She'd held the door open for me, as I was carrying a book in one hand and a computer bag in the other. I noticed then that she was dressed vaguely goth, though I don't want to say it was goth because I've probably gotten it wrong and it's actually some subset or offshoot of goth, and calling it goth would just make me look silly, wouldn't it? Anyway. Sort-of-goth chick was in line ahead of me, smelling vaguely off, so I backed off a bit, (yes, it was a strong enough off unpleasant smell to make me take a step back), but not so far I didn't hear her order: light roast, 9 ice cubes. Huh.

"Our" God Can Beat Up Your God

2006-12-05T11:21:00.000-08:00

Ooo, I have an idea! Maybe we could not use any holy book when people begin their terms of service in Congress? Maybe we could haze them instead, and see if they choose to stay: a rush period for new congresspeople.

Conservative radio host Dennis Prager explains that it's okay for Ellison to have his own beliefs, as long as he acknowledges his beliefs are wrong:

It is not I, but Keith Ellison, who has engaged in disuniting the country. He can still help reunite it by simply bringing both books to his ceremonial swearing-in.

Kidblogging

2006-11-19T14:34:00.000-08:00

Zebra Girl

2006-11-09T18:38:00.000-08:00

Grandma Ellen made the coolest jungle-themed outfit for Eryn. She loves it. We already had the socks: the stripes are right; what you can't see int he picture is the frog prince at the top. Still, the stripes are good!

Evolution Schmevolution

2006-11-06T14:03:00.000-08:00

What's that? A dolphin with legs? The FSM must be at it again.

The Boston Patriots are Awesome

2006-09-30T18:21:00.000-07:00

Neighbor Kid: Do you like the Patriots?
Other Neighbor Kid: Huh?
NK: The football team.
ONK: Huh?
NK: You know, the Boston Patriots.
ONK: They're from New England.
NK: Yeah, New England is in Boston. They're, like, awesome.

Inside Joke

2006-09-29T21:09:00.000-07:00

Where's the "Shopping-Obsessed, Bossy, Neurotic Sex Toy" Label?

2006-09-20T14:36:00.000-07:00

I've been clothing shopping for Eryn. She's so big, usually the only shirts I can find to fit her are in the girls' department (as opposed to the little girls' department), so I have trouble finding things that are appropriate for my three-year-old. In Target, shirts have sayings on them like "Born to Shop!" and "I want it, you buy it, end of conversation" (or something like that). I once found a shirt I thought was cute and appropriate, but the tag proclaimed the brand name was "Anxiety." WTF? At least half the girls' wear has "Princess" written all over it. If I'm going to buy her that crap, I might as well get her a padded bra to go with it.

Penney's was no better. Princess, Shopping Queen, butterflies with princess crowns, plummeting necklines. Ack.

Last Place! Last Place!

2006-09-17T15:22:00.000-07:00

The 4th Annual Chili Fest was last night. We have placed each year - something like 3rd, 2nd, 3rd, or 2nd, 3rd, 2nd - I can't remember which. This year, my chili was going to be a real contender. I was pleased when my own creation turned out way yummy - a nice blend of hot (jalapenos, pureed anchos, thai chili paste, Penzey's Medium Hot Chili Powder) and a little sweetness (thai chili paste and molasses). The tequila brought it together well. I followed the online advice of champion chili makers and made the batch I was going to enter the day before, then reheated it in a crockpot to take to Brad's house. I'd reheated a small amount for Scooter, just on the stovetop, and he said it was great. Imagine my disappointment, then, when I was sharing some with Eryn shortly after arriving at Chili Fest 2006 and discovered the really, really sharp taste that had developed. It was little better than meat soaked in tequila. I wanted to blame the malfunctioning crockpot (one of the legs melted up into the bottom of the outer part of the crockpot, leading to the block of wood balancing the whole thing, and the name "2X4 Chili"). Alas, I think it was more likely that, as the alcohol cooked off, it condensed on the inside of the cover of the crock, and then simply worked its way back into the chili. Live, cook, learn. I don't know who ranked my chili best, but it must've been someone who really really likes tequila.

I imagine Scooter will blog other aspects of the evening, where he will describe how Eryn ended her evening.

My First Wiki

2006-09-09T20:30:00.000-07:00

I couldn't help myself. I was explaining to someone what a body memory is, and when I went to send a link to Wikipedia's definition as an addendum to my explanation, I found it so lacking that I added to it. I didn't change the sucky stuff, just added a new category ("Clinician Use") and called it good.

I am a dork. Sue me.

If the Glidden guy loves Ralph Lauren so much...

2006-09-06T11:24:00.000-07:00

Now it makes sense.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to Home Depot in Eagan to have some paint mixed so I could finally finish painting my family room. I painted one wall a deep, lush ruby color a long time ago and couldn't ever quite settle on a color for the other walls. The red was too much for the entire room, and the greens toward which I was leaning seemed risky. (Like it matters. If it doesn't work, I paint over it. Who cares?)

I'd landed on a Ralph Lauren color called Mexican Feather Grass. Fancy, eh? It's just a very light dusty sage color. Problem: I can't stand Ralph Lauren paint. I used it in the plex in the kitchen and living room because I like the colors RL offers - but it's like painting with milk. It drips everywhere, and dries with drips you didn't see were there because they weren't there while you were standing in front of them, painting. Milk. It worked horribly in my kitchen in the plex, so I went to Home Depot and asked at the paint counter what to do about the mysterious stains seeping through the dark green paint. The paint guy said something like "Oh, yeah, Ralph Lauren paint does that. Let's mix the same color in Behr, and that should cover it." They can do that? They can do that!

So, I I went to the Eagan H.D. paint counter ask for help with this. The guy in the orange apron was busy, so a guy in Glidden Gear asked me what I needed. I said I wanted Mexican Feather Grass mixed as Behr paint. Enjoy the conversation:

Glidden Gear Guy: We can't do that.
Me: Why not?
GGG: This is Ralph Lauren paint.
Me: Yes, I know. They have great colors, but I hate their paint.
GGG: When's the last time you used it?
Me: A few years ago.
GGG: It's changed a lot since then.
Me: I don't want Ralph Lauren paint. I want Behr.
GGG: There's nothing wrong with Glidden.
Me: Glidden would be fine. Anything but Ralph Lauren.
GGG: We can't do that.
Me: I've had it done before.
GGG: [stares at me]
ME: At Home Depot. I had a Ralph Lauren color mixed as Behr because I had used the Ralph Lauren first, and I hated it.
GGG: Ralph Lauren has changed a lot.
Me: I don't care. I don't want it. Do I have to go somewhere else to have this mixed, or are you going to do it for me?
GGG: I'll tell you what. I'm going to be a really nice guy today. I'll give you a free gallon of Ralph Lauren, and then you can try it.
Me: And then I'll have used a gallon of paint I don't like and I will have to paint my walls again with paint I do like. Are you going to mix this for me, or do I have to go somewhere else?
GGG: [stares at me]
Me: Fine, I'll go elsewhere.

I took my paint chip and walked away. The woman waiting for assistance on the other side of the counter was trying not to grin. I choose to believe it was a "that guy's being a dick" grin.

Enter the St. Louis Park Home Depot, two days later. I had this conversation:

Me: Can you mix this Ralph Lauren color for me as Behr paint?
Ann: Oh, sure. How much do you want?

Later, when I picked it up:
Me: Hey, thanks for mixing this for me.
Ann: No problem. Ralph Lauren is better than it used to be, but it still sucks to paint with.

Vindication!

Locked Out

2006-09-05T16:04:00.000-07:00

When Scooter locked himself and Eryn (complete with messy diaper) out of the car at the lake, did I call him stupid? No. But when I call him from St. Louis Park to tell him I've locked my keys, purse, and phone in the car, what's the first thing he says? "Now who's the stupid one?"

I'm offended.

He locked his key, the diaper bag, his phone, and his wallet in the car when I was at an all-day conference. Okay...he's got servers down and has all sorts of people clamoring for his help and he still had to go get Eryn at the time I called him. And, he has to drive from Eagan to SLP in rush hour. Still, I didn't suggest he was intellectually challenged.

Ah, well. At least the Caribnou/Bruegger's combo near the building I was in has free wifi. I feel like a schmuck because, without my purse, I cannot purchase anything from either establishment. Maybe I have to get Scooter to spend some money when he gets here.

Four Years At The Fair

2006-08-28T17:22:00.000-07:00

Eryn, Max, Sofie

2006-08-13T14:09:00.000-07:00

Last Monday at Bunker Park (you have to pay to get it, but the playground is wonderful). Dad with Sofie, who is a month old in the picture. Now she's five weeks. It makes a difference at this age...

That yellow post is a mister. The kids liked it a little bit.

Max spent so much time running under the mister that he was dripping water when he headed back to the play equipment. (Check the nose.)

The Descent

2006-08-11T22:31:00.000-07:00

Morlocks crash the Ya-Ya Sisterhood weekend.

BUT, parts were creepy. Not just stupid-scary-you-knew-there-was-a-baddie-hanging-from-the-ceiling (though there's enough of that, too), but actually creepy. I agree with this guy:

"While the movie has wonderful moments of unmotivated tension that make sure we're quite ill at ease from the beginning, it's also got a few too many of the kind of cheap boo-scares that indicate a director not fully trusting his grip on you."

It was, however, another movie that couldn't figure out how to end, and in lieu of doing something well, just went for stupid. Yeah, yeah, there's an underlying sense that this woman can never escape the ickiness of her past, but mostly the end was a cop out. Matinee or Netflix it.

Possible morals:
Spelunking is a stupid sport
SONAR is funky
Caves are creepy
Never trust an Asian woman to be your tour guide

Minty Fresh

2006-08-03T10:22:00.000-07:00

My first thought after the searing pain calmed down was "That's a planetdan bloggable moment." I don't know how he'll feel about it, if he ever knows, but there it is.

I went to brush my teeth before bed last night, and somehow flicked the bristles of the toothbrush as I was putting toothpaste on it (it was Scooter's - maybe this was karma for using his toothbrush. I know, ew. Get over it.) I think it was a grapefruit moment - if something gets flicked, it's headed right into your eye. That's just how it works. It doesn't get your shoulder, it gets your eye. In the very brief moment between understanding toothpaste was probably gonna get in my eye, and it actually getting into my eye, I thought, toothpaste, no big deal, and then the pain started, and I wondered why it hurt so much. Several minutes later, and then only through one eye, I saw that it was baking soda and peroxide toothpaste. Then I had the planetdan thought. And I held my eye shut some more.

Ow.

Another Rant

2006-07-24T12:27:00.000-07:00

If you want Christian therapist - that is, one who has a strong Christian value system AND thinks it's appropriate to share information about that value system with clients (why wouldn't it be? Everything is better with the Lord!), please don't email me asking me if I work out of a "Christian framework," and if I don't, then what framework do I use. Because my approach is client-centered, and I don't disclose information about my spirituality (or my sexuality, or my politics...) to my clients precisely so that they can explore anything they need to explore (spirituality included). I work this way because I understand, even if "Christian therapists" do not, that knowledge of a therapist's belief system can act as a barrier to exploring things that need to be explored. Let's say a new client asks if I'm Christian, and I tell her I am. Does that mean I understand everything about whatever she is struggling with? Does it mean I know if she dances, she's going to Hell? Does it mean if she tells me she had an abortion when she was 15, I'll judge her, or automatically forgive her? Does it mean I think Heaven is a real or a metaphorical place? How many different kinds of Christian are there? And, let's say she gets to a place where her faith is changing, and she needs help dealing with that? How can she do that and feel safe about it if her understanding of my being Christian means what it once meant for her, which is that there is no doubt - only faith? It's the same reason I never answered the question about whether I'd used illegal drugs, when I was doing therapy with women in prostitution who had addictions. If I said yes, they could assume I understood their experiences without their needing to examine and work through them, and really not get what they needed. If I said no, maybe that meant I couldn't possibly understand, and then they'd not utilize my skills, and also not get what they needed. Screwed either way. Better not to have that knowledge.

So, if you are Christian (or whatever) and need a therapist who can help you with wherever you are, I can do that, and I would love to. If you are Christian and you need your therapist to be Christian and "out" about her Christianity, I don't think you're really looking for change. I don't need you to change your spiritual beliefs, whatever they are. But if you're Christian and your therapist has to be too, you're looking for answers that fit only into your belief system. Go talk to your pastor.

And...(what started this rant), if you're going to email me and ask me if I work out of a Christian framework, don't ask me the "if not, then what" part, because you aren't really interested. Just ask what you really want to know: will you help me solve my problem and confirm my way of thinking? Because I am learning that what will happen is that I will answer the question thoughtfully, and you will absolutely blow me off, and it will have been a waste of my time and energy. Again, go talk to your pastor, because that's what you want. I'm not even referring to the Christian counseling centers around anymore, because they scare me. Google it yourself. You don't need your heart surgeon to share your faith. Well, maybe you do, but if that's the case, good luck to you.

Rant

2006-07-21T07:18:00.000-07:00

I don't want to see commercials in movie theaters. Unless I am willing to rip out my eyes and shove them into my ears, apparently I am going to experience commercials when I choose to go to the theater (when will there be live-action commercials in live theater?) Given that, the companies that advertise could have the decency to make the ads palatable. Entertaining, even. To whom does that Fanta crap appeal? I'm not linking to it - it's annoying, potentially seizure-inducing, and mind-atrophying. I just can't be responsible for the effects on you if you choose to go looking for it yourself. Look at us! Drink Fanta! Are our breasts moving too fast for you to see? Drink Fanta! You know you wantawantawantaFanta! If I liked to ogle women, I can't imagine I'd find this interesting.

At least the Coke commercial was imaginative. I still don't want to see it in the theater. It's bad enough I pay for DirectTV that has commercials.

Rant

2006-07-20T14:00:00.000-07:00

If you want to go see a movie that is violent and frightening and has monsters killing people (for Christ's sake), get a babysitter for the infant and toddlers.

I wanted to say to the parents in front of me "Here's my card. Call me in three years when your kids are a fucking mess."

Priorities

2006-07-18T11:07:00.000-07:00

I don't like it that there are Americans and citizens of America's allied countries trapped in Lebanon while it's being bombed. But this, from CNN a bit after noon today, was too much: it seems that Americans who were working or vacationing (really?) in Lebanon are awaiting evacuation by cruise ships, including the Orient Queen, where they can have the "comforts and conveniences one would expect on a sea voyage, even a relatively short one of five to six hours."

The military vessels will get there faster, but let's not settle for expediency at the expense of luxury.

Yep, let's help our citizens escape. But in the hour I sat in D. Brian's eating lunch today so that I could catch some news, no one on CNN said a word about where Lebanese citizens are going to escape the bombings or what might happen for them in the coming weeks.

Nice.

Don't Mess With Texas

2006-07-05T13:13:00.000-07:00

I love that the article describing the psychological explanation for why former Army Private Steven Green participated in the raping of an Iraqi wokman and the murder of her family mentions that he's from Midland, Texas, but doesn't toss in that Midland is W's hometown. It absolutely doesn't matter that they claim the same hometown, but if Private Green had - say, saved someone from drowning, or won the Tour de France, you just know that detail would be in there.

Antisocial Personality Disorder? Megalomania? I think I'll just stay out of Texas.

Independence Day

2006-07-04T20:16:00.000-07:00

...means a very happy little girl with flaming sticks of metal in her hands:

Scooter and Eryn in between the neighbors' (very cool) illegal fireworks:

First flaming metal stick of the evening:

And, Christy and Eryn running away from the large fountain Scooter had just lit...

I'm sure Scooter will YouTube a video or two from the evening.

Bad Literacy!

2006-06-16T06:40:00.000-07:00

Having a three-year-old who can read is only a good thing until she reads movie reviews. Well, until she reads "This movie is so bad..." about Garfield: A Tale of Two Kitties the morning she's going to see it. Then, her ability to read makes her pout.

The full statement is "This movie is so bad, you could shoot Garfield and even PETA would not object." (Willie Waffle). One might think that means we're not going, but one would be wrong. Very, very wrong.

My only hope is that Joe Leydon ("Good kitty!") knows more than Waffle. That, and that it makes Eryn happy enough to make it worthwhile.

I couldn't help myself

2006-06-14T18:32:00.000-07:00

Surprise, Scooter! Coming home to this:

Okay...not really. But I'm tempted.

Fishy, Fishy, Who's Got the Fishy?

2006-06-09T13:09:00.000-07:00

We have finally assembled and filled Eryn's aquarium. She found Mickey Mouse Platys, which I didn't know existed. She saw the Mickey head outline on their tails before I even knew what she was talking about, and then I found the label. So, she has three Mickey Mouse Platys and a Plecostimus swimming around a glow-in-the-dark plant, some petrified wood Scooter picked up as a kid in California, and a tiki head. (Yes, I know it's Mayan, but she accepts that it's tiki, so leave it alone!)

Oops...guess I should have read about the Mickey fish before buying them - I knew they were peaceful and livebearers, but didn't know they need at least 15 gallons (why?) and lots of live plants. Oh well, perhaps they're resilient little fish. I don't have the energy or the desire to keep a tank with real plants in it clean.

Can't Spell Blog

2006-06-04T21:32:00.000-07:00

Because my husband will think this is amusing:

I am PTW's Amygdala

2006-06-02T16:42:00.000-07:00

In the interest of improving my skills and acquiring the CEUs I need to maintain my license, I'm attending the U's annual hypnosis conference. I went to the introductory course two years ago and have found hypnosis to be a useful tool in my practice. I don't use it often in a formal way, but I use aspects of it all the time with clients. So I was enthused for the advanced course. I'd heard it can be tedious...a few colleagues told me it's "the same local people year after year." I thought that would be all right, since I'm green enough for the same old local people to be new to me, and I know I have all sorts of things to learn about using hypnosis clinically - indeed, about all aspects of clinical work. I really, really should have listened to my colleagues.

More than that, I should especially have listened when told to skip the Thursday evening session. If the entire conference was the same old local people, Thursday evening was those people showing off. Didn't matter - I don't know these people, I'll learn all sort of things. I even had a colleague who is a senior clinician convinced the session focused on using storytelling and metaphor in hypnosis sounded worthwhile, and she came with me. It was so bad. Abysmal. Appalling. Just...horrid. Holy Random Fucking story, Batman horrid. I get that it was calculated to be an experiential Ericksonian deal, but it...just...wasn't. The story that went on for over ten minutes and ended with "And that, my friends, is why meat loves salt" [dramatic pause, dramatic stare]. It was connected to...nothing. It taught me...nothing. It did piss me off.

(Picking this back up two days later.) It remained horrid. The second day was almost as bad as Thursday evening, with the exception that at least the speaker was entertaining. He was so entertaining, in fact, it began to lose its charm as the day wore on and there was a whole lot more standup comedy than content. By 5:00 when we adjourned (it began at 8:00), I was very bothered by the fact that at the hypnosis conference of the year in Minnesota, a clinician with my level of experience had learned absolutely nothing of use. I've been to the intro section, I am only five years out of graduate school (and took two years off work to stay with Eryn), and I wasn't learning anything. Oh, wait! I learned this: the speaker does an excellent impersonation of Milton Erickson. That's worth $355 and what felt like eight years out of my life. I could have been adventuring with Scooter and Eryn!

At least I got to leave the conference two hours early on the last day, but only in order to try to help Scooter find a key to his car. (Details on his blog at last link.) I wanted out anyway...needed to go to Urgent Care to deal with this &*%^$!# fungus (yes, fungus, I am not kidding and I don't want to talk about it further...uck, disgusting) that the ER doc didn't deem fit to tell me might result from the two hits of injected and then five days of oral steroid I'd experienced. (I ignored the sore throat because I assumed the pain was a leftover from all the throat pain I had with the second shock episode.) At any rate, it explained the disgusting taste and the fact that my painfully sore throat had become a strangely sore tongue. (I noticed that and thought, hm, that doesn't seem right.) Gee, do you think two experiences of anaphylctic shock in 30 hours and all those steroids made me a titch vulnerable? No wonder I've felt so shitty.

So. This morning, Scooter was out riding his bike for about three hours, and Eryn and I were home both feeling awful. She obviously has thrush now too. (Happens when you don't know you've got it...tends to get passed around.) I swear all I did was pick up an ice cube tray. I didn't touch the unopened bottle of vodka. I didn't even bump it. That didn't stop it from dropping from the top shelf of the freezer and vaporizing on the wood floor between my feet. I must have stood there for a good 20 seconds, staring at the blood and vodka pooling at my feet, before I had my first coherent thought, and it wasn't Oh shit. It was Huh...at least it's sterile. And then, I thought about how pleased I was that I'd picked up the Skyy that was on sale instead of indulging. For one thing, I could see the tiny shards of blue glass embedded in my feet and pick them out.

There we have it - seriously disappointing professional conference, fungal infections, and vodka-induced foot wounds. There's probably a connection.

Redux

2006-05-26T06:10:00.000-07:00

Eryn won't let me rest (to be fair, she is three and we had to get her up at 3:00 this morning, so she's a bit cranky and needy), so I may as well do something that keeps me upright until it's time to take her to her orthopedic appointment for her arm.

So, back to Ridges, this time the early a.m. version. Awful hives, one eye swelling toward closed, face and neck swollen, nausea, throat very sore and becoming difficult to swallow. Yippee! They hit me with the cocktail again, but this time sent me home with a script for an Epipen and a steroid. So I get to be moon faced for a week or so. Again, yippie.

Scooter rode his bike to work at about 5:45, when we got back home, to try to wake himself up. So, Eryn's and my day is pretty sucky so far, but so is his.

Did I mention, yippie?

Not so smart after all

2006-05-25T13:32:00.000-07:00

It's about time the ex-Enron big boys got nailed.

For the history, watch The Smartest Guys in the Room.

Holy Anaphylaxis, Batman!

2006-05-25T05:05:00.001-07:00

As Scooter will undoubtedly tell anyone who asks, I should know better than to take a new medication without another adult around. (I think he thinks "ever," but come on, that's kind of unreasonable.) So Monday, when I was home with Eryn, we stopped at Target on our way to the park for the usual Target stuff and some Dayquil for me - I've been a walking cold virus for a week and I know that stuff works for me, and I don't react to it. It was all gone - the liquid, the capsules, everything. Damn it. So I picked up another, had a fleeting thought about the bizarre reaction I had to another OTC cold medicine a few years ago (and dismissed it. I was miserable! I needed cold medicine! I can be such a baby...) Anyway. Took the stuff, felt better within an hour, no ill effects. Sweet. Safe, right?

Took another dose before bed - no problem. Tuesday morning, I was getting ready for work and noticed while drying my hair that the back of my head felt strangely itchy. Whatever...I was focused on the new client I was meeting first thing, and on getting Eryn to school. I felt fine...well, except for the stuffed nose, headache, and coughing, but that wasn't new. Popped another dose. An hour later, I was sitting with said new client and noticed that each time I took in a breath to speak, I wheezed. This time I paid attention - really, this was odd - but automatically assumed it was related to being, as I said, a walking cold virus, and figured it would clear. I kept coughing, didn't I? Surely that would clear whatever gunk was in my way. Then, at dinner with M, the back of my head got itchy again. Really itchy, in fact, before she arrived, and then it seemed to settle down. I'd seen mosquitoes in our back yard the night before - that was it. Another dose before bed. Small hives on my forehead and wrists, but I didn't feel weird. Still not making the connection, Scooter and I thought: huh, that doesn't seem like a seasonal allergy symptom. Did I eat anything funny? Nevermind, go to sleep.

Next morning (yesterday), I had a few small hives on my wrists and some around my collarbone, but the others were gone. My cold felt mildly better, so I didn't take the medicine. I did first call Cookie Queen's clinic (it's close, I like Dr. Jason) and inquire about an appointment, but everyone was booked. So was my regular doc, so I blew it off. (Genius!) Instead, I dropped Eryn off and went to the duplex to work on scrubbing out whatever it is the former tenants ground into the grout on the kitchen floor. That was it. Exercise sent what was clearly a reaction into high gear, and I was a mess of hives and itchiness. I went home, thought about it, double checked what I already knew about anaphylaxis, sent Scooter an email telling him I was reacting but fine (sent him a pretty picture of hives). Then my throat/chest started to feel tight, and I called Cookie Queen's nurse triage line. That went something like this:

Nurse: Go to the ER. Don't drive yourself.
PTW: Really?
Nurse: Yes. Go.
PTW. Oh, hell.
Nurse: You're having trouble breathing, you need to be in the hospital.
PTW: I'm only having a little trouble breathing.
Nurse: Go to the ER.
PTW: Aw, hell.
Nurse: What is your name?

Sigh. I don't think I was making lots of sense.

So, called Scooter, he left work, I went to the neighbor's while I waited, and we hit Ridges for a lovely IV cocktail of adrenaline, benadryl (hate that stuff, makes me twitchy), and some other crap. Oh, wait, the adrenaline was an injection into my abdomen. That was fun. Two hours later I was the right color again and less itchy and swollen (plus breathing properly), and they sent me home with instructions that actually warned me to "avoid" the medication I had taken.

I blame the duplex :)

Adaptation

2006-05-12T18:11:00.000-07:00

Break your right arm, use the cast to navigate and the other hand to click. No problem.

Obviously Traumatized

2006-05-08T19:28:00.000-07:00

Right.

We don't know if it was the fall off the swing onto the right arm yesterday, or the fall while running in the kitchen (also onto the right arm) today, but Monkey Girl has a broken right radius. It's a buckle break - a very minor one, but enough to warrant this beautiful hard splint. In two weeks, we find out if this is good enough, or if it needs a full cast. I doubt it will.

Stop freaking out, Dad.

Strawberry Lime

2006-05-01T19:37:00.000-07:00

Eryn's "Jones of Soda" is in stores now. (Thanks to Christy for finding the first one!) It seems each picture is run on labels for one kind of soda, so Strawberry Lime it is.

Don't Spill The Beans

2006-05-01T19:27:00.000-07:00

Fun for all ages.

THREE!

2006-04-24T13:33:00.000-07:00

A few pictures from Eryn's 3rd birthday celebration...

Do NOT spill those beans!

This will have her absolutely enthralled when assembled, filled, and stocked with her very own fish. Right now she's annoyed I haven't done those things yet. We're going to have to put their food where she can't reach it, or she'll feed her fish to death. Hey Christy, you know this means you and Ty will be requested for cat, dog, and fish maintenance the next time we leave town, right?

SWIPER!

No, no one gave Eryn a baby boy for her third birthday. This is our very, very happy nephew, Arthur. He'll be 1 in June.

How to eat Spiderman cake without destroying your clothes: two approaches.

Currently Eryn's favorite new thing. Can you tell?

Inappropriate at the Park

2006-04-18T14:12:00.000-07:00

First, God. Then porn.

Yesterday Eryn and I went to "Dinosaur Park." I don't know what it's actually called, but Eryn calls it Dinosaur Park because of the big purple dinosaur she can ride there:

There was a family there with apparently six children, though it turned out three were not actually siblings to the others. Dad was reading at a picnic table and ignoring everything. Seven-month-pregnant Other Mom was chasing 18-month old Boy around while the others looked after themselves, mostly. Two-And-A-Half-Year-Old Boy wandered over to the swing next to the one where I was pushing Eryn, climbed aboard the chair swing and loudly demanded that his older sister come push him. She was busy, so I asked him if I could push him, and began about 30 minutes of pushing both him and Eryn. (Really. Who knew they might have such attention spans? Perhaps it was hypnotic.) Mom noticed after a while and was appreciative. Then the kid she was chasing decided he wanted to swing, and she came over with him and offered to take over with 2.5 Boy. I declined (I was already pushing Eryn, what difference did it make?) and suggested she sit down with the younger kid, who wanted to be in her lap anyway. Again, she was grateful. So far, better than my other park experiences with moms during weekdays. Eventually the kids I was pushing got bored and wandered off to play at other games, and I sat on the swing next to Other Mom and 18-Month-Old. I said I bet she was worn out. She agreed. Then we had this conversation:

Me: How many of these kids are yours?
Other Mom: Three. [gave their ages: 18 months, nearly three, and eight]
Me: Ah. You're home with them?
Other Mom: When God wants something, he makes a path.
Me: So you homeschool, then.

And so on. As soon as I could after that, I claimed Eryn looked like she needed help tipping over her sandbucket to make a building and excused myself, but not before Other Mom had explained all about how God had contrived one day to give her some tadpoles for her kids to study, using as a conduit a class of public school kids and their teacher (who were gathering tadpoles for a science project and offered to give this family some of what they found). Before having Eryn and staying home with her, first all the time and now part time, I hadn't realized just how involved God is in the minor details of homeschooling mothers' lives. First, improvised laundry baskets, and now free tadpoles!

Later, Scooter took Eryn via Burley to a park we'd not visited before. Skyland Park on Cliff in Burnsville - absolutely wonderful park. I met them there later. Shortly before we left I saw a man in his early thirties with a t-shirt I was fairly certain said I [heart] Porn. I thought, that can't be right. I don't really care if an adult wants to wear a shirt with such a lame sentiment on it - after all, it can serve as a warning to anyone who might consider him dating material - but at a park full of kids? We passed him on our way out, and he actually was wearing the shirt.

Mostly, I was glad Eryn hadn't seen it, because of her tendency to ask me why things say what they say. ("Mommy, why does that trash can say 'thank you'?" "Mommy, why does that sign say 'Make checks payable to postmaster'?") I was expecting to be walking past this man and have her ask "Mommy, why does that man's shirt say 'I heart porn'?" Then, "Mommy, what's porn?" She sounded out checks, payable, and most of postmaster without knowing the words - read them and understood them - so I know damn well I'd have had to explain in some way, and not try to fob it off as being something it wasn't. Besides, it was the God stuff that made me crankier.*

Look, I go to the park to play with my daughter, to get us both outside and out of our space, and to interact with other kids. I know that means she's going to be exposed to other kids' germs and manners, and she's going to encounter the unfairness and meanness that is standard in the societal microcosm that is the playground. It's my job to help her learn how not to be a jerk even when other kids are, how to watch out for littler kids, how to share and take turns, how to respect other modes of dress, speech, and behavior. What's difficult is when other adults don't do the same. My belief that we should be respectful even when other people are not (including when they are unconsciously religion-centric) is why I never allow myself to respond with anything other than dry observation (Them: "God, god, god" Me: "Oh, so you homeschool.") If I did, the conversation would go more like this:

Other Mom: God gave us tadpoles.
Me: Want to go doorknocking in Pierre with me to support abortion rights?

Or this:
Other Mom: When God wants something, he makes a path.
Me: My female lover and I are getting married this weekend. Should we sacrifice a male or a female child on our altar to Satan?

But I don't do that. I don't go broadcasting my particular brand of agnosticism-teetering-on-atheism at innocent parkgoers. I don't ask them what Wellstone would do. I have a Darwin fish on my car in the parking lot, but I don't grab them and make them look at it or expound on the principles of evolution so nicely demonstrated by the tadpoles God gave them. Jesus Christ, I am annoyed!

*Wow, has that changed since I was in my twenties. The existence of porn sent me into orbit then, and now it's the God Nuts that piss me off. It's not that I think porn is a good thing - in many cases it's prostitution on film (and I'm sorry, but I must insist that there are times when it's easy to distinguish between porn and erotica, and therefore between filmed prostitution and harmless adult entertainment, so there), and after my experiences doing therapy with women in prostitution, I would have to be stupid or cruel to consider anything related to prostitution humane or acceptable. [Look! A footnote in a blog post! I will always be an English dork no matter how far I move away from teaching.]

Birthday Girl

2006-04-18T11:24:00.000-07:00

She's home sick from school, but she's got Howl and her balloon, so life is good.

I Owe the MN Zoo Eighteen Cents

2006-04-14T12:15:00.000-07:00

...because the lemonade stand said the 12-ounce animal-shaped containers with lemonade were $3.00, and Eryn was so excited she could have the dolphin one (seen below) when I discovered I had $2 and 4 quarters, the kid running the stand took pity on me and gave it to us without the tax. I hope Pawlenty doesn't find out.

Following a Meme

2006-04-12T07:24:00.000-07:00

Copying Scooter, copying Generic Heretic:

The Venerable Book:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open it to page 161.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence along with these instructions.
5. Don't search around and look for the coolest book you can find. Do what's actually next to you.

Here's mine:
"As is the case in every war, we were nearly always short-handed, and it took a lot of manpower to secure the station twenty-four hours a day."