My online journal.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Oh, and my psych class is fine too.

Lucy loves yogurt. She calls it "why-gurt." Or, maybe, "Y-gurt." Kids today and their slang!

Here's the sitch on our house, for those out of the loop. Which is probably you, since even Joel and I are barely hanging onto said loop.

We're not 100% sold on selling. And we have not found a new place to go.

We are putting our house on the market sometime betwixt September 8 and 12. We're going to give it a month or two, and if it doesn't go, then we'll sit tight and enjoy our newly-clean living space for a few more years! If we get anything resembling an offer, we'll start looking for places in South St Paul and West St Paul.

So Now:
We are madly cleaning and touching up paint and tightening pipes in preparation. We know the market is lousy. We are sticking with our Realtor, who was starting to worry us a bit but we realized is just kind of a "creative," with which we can deal.

And finally...
Apparently, you CAN take the City out of the girl.

Well, I've lost my mind. (This is not news.) Went downtown Minneapolis yesterday afternoon, around 2:00, for a work get-together at Brit's. I often complain about Minneapolis: how it's "scary" and how I avoid it. I thought I was kidding. Until I tried to go home after Brit's and:

1. Couldn't find the parking garage
2. Didn't have a check or cash with which to pay for my parking
3. Nearly lost a hubcap and even-nearerly killed a pedestrian trying to get out of the ramp after some kind anonymous good Samaritan behind me offered to pay the remaining $4 I owed after I scraped together $3 in change from under the seats in my van

I mean, really, you would think I'd never been off the farm before. I was so dreadfully embarrassed and SO ashamed about the parking (how can a place that charges $7 for 2 hours of parking not take Visa!?!?). And I get to work this morning only to discover that my "anonymous good Samaritan" was none other than my friend Kate from work! Kate, with whom I'd just been lamenting a few hours earlier that I hated going downtown and paying for parking. What are the chances of that? That of all the ramps downtown and all the people using them at 4:15 on a Tuesday, the person behind me ends up being Kate. Who happens to have $4 on her person when she goes downtown, because she was not raised in a barn. Wild.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Hives, Attitude, and Ed keeps smiling

Brief report: Since last Thursday, Lucy has this recurring rash thing all over her legs, arms, and occasionally bottom and face. It looks like hives (raised, irregular, with yellow/white centers), it's hot to the touch, and it comes and goes mostly in the evening. Took her to urgent care Friday night because she also had a 102 temp at the same time (that was our "date", hooray) and the doc said it was a virus that would come and go over the next few days.

No rash all weekend -- but yesterday evening it came back. And then went away again, within a couple hours.

Also, she's been screaming. And not just a wordless scream (which would be bad enough), but she's actually screaming unkind things like "GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW MOMMY!" and "NO EAT NOW NO WAY JAMIE!" in a very nasty tone, like you or I might use if our child was about to run into oncoming traffic. Not a scream to be used lightly. So, obviously, she's hearing this language and this tone somewhere.

So we're a little freaked out by these developments.
And we're supposed to put our house on the market in 2 weeks.
And Joel's out of town this week.
And I'm starting class this week.
And Lucy is turning 2 next week. Can you believe that? Two. How did that happen.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006


Fed Eddie cereal for the first time last night.

Or, that's what would have happened in a normal family.

What actually happened was: Ed was fussing at dinnertime and Joel thought maybe it was NOT because he was desperately tired, but rather because he liked the looks of the leftover-chicken-and-veggies that the rest of us were eating. However, I hadn't actually purchased any baby rice cereal, and all we had was a jar of "Stage 2" turkey puree.

Which we fed to Eddie, only microseconds after I found the camera and deleted a bunch of old pictures because the memory card was full and he may be the second child but I'll be danged if I don't get a picture of his first bites of people-food.

Anyway, he hated the turkey (and who wouldn't? It's GRODY!) and I'm going to Target to get some rice cereal today.

P.S. Lucy, sometime between teeth-brushing and bedtime last night, put on her own Crocs (this is new) and insisted upon wearing them to bed. I love that.

Monday, August 14, 2006

The Joel Annals

That's ANNALs. With TWO "n"s.

Okay, so Jean and Joel and I are driving home from Rent last night. It was at the Ordway (which is right downtown St Paul, so we just take 3rd street all the way down. And it was so good. I cried lots.). So anyway, we're driving home; it's 10:45 PM. Now, 3rd Street between downtown and our house is NOT the best neighborhood. Nay, it's maybe one of the worst two neighborhoods in St Paul. But, you know, we just keep driving; it's not like it's the South Side of Chicago; don't-live-your-life-in-fear, all that rot.

So Jean's driving, and Joel's shotgun.

Joel: "How fast are we going?"

Jean: "30."

Me (piping up from the back seat, because that's the only way to talk from the back seat): "Joel thinks he can run this fast!"

Joel: "No!! I said, like, 20!"

(Aside: this is referencing a conversation Joel and I had a couple months ago, in which he claimed that, at his top speed in like high school, he could hit 20 mph. Or maybe 30.)

Me: "Well, either way, you can't run that fast."

Joel: "Can too!"

Jean: "Here, Joel, get out of the car and run. We'll drive next to you and tell you how fast you're going."

At which, Joel actually unbuckles his seat belt and pops his door open. Mind you, we are still driving. Jean quickly pulls the car over to the curb, and Joel hops out and takes off down the street ahead of us. I don't know how Jean is able to drive, because I am laughing so hard my face is starting to cramp up. But she starts the car moving, and soon is going about 10 mph.

I stick my head out the window to holler our speed at Joel, who is tearing up the street in his dress shirt, dress pants, tie, and dress-shoes-with-the-holes-in-the-soles-because-he-won't-take-himself-shoe-shopping.

Me (as we approach him from behind): "10! Honey! We're going ten miles per hour!"

Joel: "Ten!! No prob--"

At which point, of course, Jean and I had already FLOWN by him, zipping by at the blazing speed of, of course, ten miles per hour.

But was Joel discouraged by the fact that his top speed topped out around 4 mph?? NO! He immediately (and joyfully) started handicapping himself.

"Well!" he says triumphantly, hopping back into the car, "that was in dress shoes. With holes! AND I have that broken ankle. There's 6 or 7 mph right there! And I was only jogging -- my top speed is at LEAST double that."

Within about 15 seconds he managed to talk himself back up to "about" 20 mph again.

I love that guy.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Heavy for a Friday!

I'm getting a lot of forwarded emails these days with this quote appended at the bottom:

"If you can read this, thank a teacher! If you are reading it in English, Thank a Veteran"

I totally agree with the first part.


Countless thousands of U.S. Veterans have given their lives so that us Americans can enjoy Freedom: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. All rights, which were self-evident to Thomas Jefferson 230 years ago and remain so today.

Notice that "The English Language" doesn't appear in the Declaration of Independence, nor the Constitution, nor the Bill of Rights. And last time I checked, English is not the official language of the USA (I'm not even sure it's the official language of England, but that's another Wikipedia search, for another day). It's pure happenstance that English is the language that Americans speak today. There's no reason to believe that the American version of Democracy (which I believe, is what our military is defending), could not have sprung from people who speak French. Or Mandarin Chinese.

English is not, in and of itself, superior to other languages. It so happens that in the world today, English is a "common language" that many people around the world learn as a second (or third, or fourth) language -- this is mostly due to American culture permeating the entire globe. So what if American culture spoke Arabic instead?

I guess the reason the little quote bothers me so much is, it sounds like xenophobia. Which leads to racism, stereotyping, misunderstanding, and fear of people different from "us." Which leads to problems. More war. More bigotry. More senseless hurt.

Maybe this is more appropriate: "If you're reading this without fear, thank a Veteran." But maybe that's too esoteric of a concept for an email forward.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Preserve your mammaries

I swear, I don't mis-hear things on purpose. But I was half-watching TV, half-reading about the Twins and I heard that in the middle of a commercial for a scrapbook or something.

Saw the Dalys (Dalies?) tonight for only the second time since their new bebe was born. I miss them! We've been seeing a lot of the "Wats" recently too -- trying to cram in as much face-time as possible before they move to the 'burbs. The kids are all so adorable together. Toddlers are just incredible.

I've been chewing my fingers off this last week, stressing about work and the house. When am I going to learn not to sweat it? Why can't I just accept that things happen in due time, and that I can't control everything? Anyway, to console myself I am attending a Twins game on Friday and Rent on Saturday. I cannot decide which I am more excited about. Plus I have book club Sunday. Our Realtor is after us to repaint the kitchen and our bedroom, but I'm sorry, two people (and by two, I mean Joel) can only do SO MUCH while holding down a 40-hour-a-week job and keeping two babies clothed, diapered, and fed. At some point we have to simply say: this is it; this is the best we can do.

There is a lovely breeze in our living room as I type this. We don't get a lot of lovely breezes in our house. I'd better go do some dishes. So goes the battle.

Monday, August 07, 2006

"Projects... We Got Projects"

Or... "Would You Buy A Book Full of Little Anecdotes Like This?"

We own three good towels.

They’re not GREAT towels. I think I paid $10 apiece. But they’re big, and fluffy, and red. The red that matches our shower curtain. The red that is the accent color of the bathroom.

So we needed to paint the bathroom, and Joel took some time off work to do so (in addition to tackling about 35 other projects… and if you think I’m exaggerating, I will list them for you). And when I got home to inspect his work, I found that the paint looked fabulous on the walls (and ceiling, long story) of the bathroom.

I also found that the paint did NOT look quite as fabulous on my towels. And on my shower curtain. And all over the sink. And the toilet. And various other bathroom toiletries and accessories that were apparently too much trouble to remove from the bathroom prior to beginning a painting project.

So, like, the toiletries and shower curtain, I could see -- because the shower curtain can be bunched up in the middle of the rod, away from the walls and, ostensibly, safe from paint splatters -- and, oops, a big splatter, oh well. And paint, of course, can be scraped off a sink, floor etc.

But the TOWELS!?!? Need I remind you, we do not have some wild uber-high-tech bathroom where towels float in midair. Nay, when they are not bunched up in a puddle on the floor, our towels generally HANG FROM THE WALLS.

As a side note to other husbands who may be tempted to try this trick: interior latex paint does not machine-wash off of terrycloth.

Someday, Joel is going to be arrested and charged with murder or some other heinous crime. And he will be found Not Guilty by reason of Chronic Insanity. And all it will take... is my testimony.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

OK, OK catching up...

My darling, darling son's new fun trick is waking up every two hours throughout the night. 11PM, 1AM, 3, 5... yessir, just like the sweetest little alarm clock you ever did see. He's also learned to grab things and jam them in his mouth. Which is adorable when it's his own foot, or his shirt or blanket. Less adorable when it's my hair or glasses, or the sewing shears Lucy left on the floor.

Lucy (besides being a precocious seamstress) is... Lucy. A little volatile, a lot wonderful. Her Cabbage Patch Baby is her obsession. Baby eat now. Baby ni-night. Baby milk. Where Baby? Baby soap. Baby eat again. She puts Ed's diaper on Baby, then takes it off and wipes Baby's bottom, then pantomimes putting Desitin all over Baby, from bee-bo to be-hind. We have to keep reminding her to use "pretend wipes" and "pretend soap (Desitin)", but she's awfully good about it. At dinner time, Baby sits in Lu's booster seat and gets a plate too. Lucy's lots into the pantomiming: pretending to eat cookies, drink milk, etc. which is very fun to watch and play along.

What else? Oh, we're getting the floor refinished in the living room and hallway today. And Joel's on a Projects Rampage, working late into the night finishing up the basement bathroom and various other jobs we've been putzing on for the last couple of years. He's great, albeit tired. It's been raining for the last 12 hours or so here, and it's cooled off beautifully outside. And... that might be it for now. Happy Wednesday.