My online journal.
Monday, December 17, 2007
There's no sound on the video clips with my cheapo digital camera but here you go -- Lucy in motion.
Oh, OK, one more pic:
If you came Saturday night you saw the Out Of Control Meg Show -- I slipped and fell right on my rear in the middle of one of the dances, and then I went through a whole nother number with my left shoe unbuckled. A kicking number, mind you. Joel was sitting in the second row and made up his mind to act as a human shield, just in case the shoe went flying off in the direction of someone's head. Considering I was kicking straight at eleven of my family members, it was probably a very real danger. I am an unbelievably unprofessional actor. It's not something I'm proud of.
Here's Lucy wearing my Radio City costume:
Ed eating MEAT:
Lucy's dance show this morning:
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
My Christmas show goes up tomorrow. You should come on Sunday! It's at 2pm. Buy tickets at the door. Being in the show and also being the choreographer has been challenging. I haven't been able to watch any of the numbers in the last couple days because I've been working on my own stuff backstage including several tricky costume changes, and really all you can do to get dance numbers to look right is to practice them and there simply isn't time. One of the moms was leaving tonight and she said to the costumer "The costumes look AMAZING! ... And ... the dancing is FUN!" Ooooooh, that's soooo not a good thing. Not that I'd actually convinced myself that everything looked perfect -- well, honestly, I'm still learning how to do a whole show. So I'm hopeful I can apply this experience to High School Musical when it starts next month.
My Grandma Jake, after a couple weeks of my p's dealing with various miscommunications with her caregivers, has officially moved into her new place. My mom hasn't shared many details but apparently Gram has a 99-year-old roommate and they are going to get along like peas and carrots. Or maybe more like peas and honey... not sure.
Hey, it's Jean's birthday on Friday! Swing by her blog and wish her a happy 29th.
I guess I'm going to bed -- except I'm wired from rehearsal and from the Meximelt I snagged on the way home -- $1.38 of yummy goodness, I tell you what. And from the eight Christmas cookies I have eaten, plus the two more I'm going to eat right before I brush my teeth and go ni-night. I'll be awake in bed for the next couple hours, mentally rehearsing the "12 Days of Christmas" dance and getting stuck every single stinkin' time at the part after the weave. Yaaarrrrgh, Payter.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Last night, Joel felt ishy before we went to bed. By 1 AM he was up, sick as a dog. He called in to work today and has been napping on and off. Even on the happiest, healthiest weekend days, Joel's mere presence throws my entire Daily Schedule into a tailspin, so it's for the Greater Good that he's confined himself to his Man Cave in the basement.
So I lurk about the house with the dread akin to a caged turkey's while counting down the days until Thanksgiving -- much uncomfortableness is coming and I can't really do much about it.
So help us solve this mysterious Superbug:
Ed vomited late Saturday night and had several very messy diapers through Monday, but has really seemed fine since then, although he didn't really eat anything until Monday evening. Lucy had messy bottoms Monday morning and then started vomiting -- her last go was about 6PM Monday, after which she immediately perked up and demanded food. Joel got sick late Monday night and continues to feel poorly.
Joel's mom, dad, two sisters, Jeff, and at least two cousins (all of whom were at the same party on Sunday afternoon) are ALL very ill. Which would make me think: Aha! Food poisoning! Except that Ed was sick Saturday night. So what gives? Either Ed's illness was just a weird coincidence and everyone else was food-poisoned, or he managed to get everyone else sick within 24 hours.
I actually still feel great, but I'm second-guessing every little shiver, tummy-rumble, and muscle twinge. It's OK, I'm only supposed to be in a show this weekend. Oof.
I aftergott to mention that I finished the last Harry Potter book last week -- does anybody want to talk about it!??! Please?!
Monday, December 10, 2007
Actual vomiting. Who ever heard of such a thing? Ed actually seems to be rallying -- Lucy, however, is very, very sad. It's heartbreaking.
We hardly ever watch Barney, but Barney's voice sounds different to me today. Did they get a new actor, or something?
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
And now, for kid anecdotes:
(As I'm tucking Lu in for nap)
Mommy, I need my gingerbutt.
My GINGERBUTT man that I made in ECFE.
Lucy's other new favorite bastardized phrase is "aftergott" -- as in, "Oh no! I aftergott to drink my milk!" and "I aftergott to bring my backpack to dance class." and "I can't show you my dance moves because I aftergott them already."
You get the gist.
Speaking of backpack, Ed thinks it's hilarious to go up behind you (assuming you're squatting down to tie Lu's shoelace or zipper her coat or wipe the jelly fingerprints off the wall... again...), wrap his arms around your neck, wrap one of his little legs around your waist, and shout: "Packpack!" So cute.
Joel thinks it's funny to get the kids to pretend they're sleeping whenever someone is about to enter the room. He always says "Quick! Quick! Sleeping!"
Ed, of course, has picked up on this. When I go into his room to get him after a nap, he squeaks "QUEEEK!" and throws himself down on his face.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
"Why? Why? Why?" Seriously, Ed? You're not even two. Yours is not to reason why. Not for another year or so.
When we go check on him afer he's been sleeping for a while: "Book. Saur-saur. Clock. Light." Just randomly naming objects in his room, while sleeping.
If he's not yet sleeping, he will say "Kiss" and then demand one. Sweet.
And oh, the saur-saurs. Dinosaurs, to you & me. His favorite... well, that is, next to his blanket -- that same one that my aunt Mary Ann made for Lucy. It's Ed's absolute obsession. Try buckling a wiggly 20-month-old into a car seat while he's wearing a winter coat and hat and boots and mittens and clutching a giant crocheted blanket. It's a challenge.
"Some." That's when you have something he wants; generally food. "Some. SOME!"
The other morning, we all got up, well, kinda early. Ed first, and I went down to get him, and Joel followed. It wasn't exactly light yet. So the three of us are just kind of slouching in the semidark kitchen (because Morning People we ain't) when Lucy strides into the kitchen, with the purposeful air of someone calling a meeting to order, and very clearly and confidently addresses our bleary threesome: "HI GUYS!"
Sunday, Faje allegedly pooped all over the house. Lucy took a diaper wipe and wiped every surface she could reach in the living room and bathroom, all the while exclaiming "My gosh Faje!"
Saturday, I was at callback auditions for High School Musical. All day. So today... guess who's latched onto "callbacks"? Mmm-hmm, my favorite little princess. But she pronounces them "cowbacks" or "cowwhacks," thoroughly befuddling Joel.
"Jesus, I love you, but I have to go to callbacks." "Mommy, where is my bag for callbacks?"
So Rob Sutherland is the HSM producer as well as my co-choreographer for the Xmas show. And, it would seem, I am spending too much time with him.
Joel: "Lu, where are you going?"
Lu: "I'm going to callbacks. Hey Dad -- oh, I mean, Rob..." (she may have said more after that, but I was laughing too hard to hear.)
Joel obliged by sitting down in the living room and demanding Lucy's headshot and resume, and then asking her what song she was going to sing.
Lu (emptying out her "audition bag" during her "callback"): "Oh! Here's my lipstick, I have to get my money out. My purse, my mirror -- hold this, please. Okay, I need it back now." Joel is impressed by her array of props. "She's Carrot Top!" he cries.Every night as we wrestle Lu into bed, we have to keep asking her meticulously-worded questions for which all the answers lead to getting her closer to going to sleep. Like, "Who's going to brush your teeth: Mommy or Daddy?" and "What song do you want me to sing?" and "How many blankets do you want?" The answer to that last question is, invariably, "Five" because five is the largest number Lucy can possibly conceive of. Mind you, she can count to about twelve, but when it comes to actual quantities, "Five" is infinity to her. "I need five blankets..." she says, "...and one for good luck, and one for good measure."
So we finally got her tucked in for the night. Joel pressed Play on her CD player, because both she and Ed like to drift off to some tunes (right now all Ed gets is his Shish box, but it's better than nothing).
We get a bit of a rigamarole from Ed, crying as though his toenails are being plucked from his tender wittle footies until we go in there and he laughs because he GOT us! Joel talks and snuggles him a bit, and he goes back down without a fight.
A couple minutes later, we hear (from Lucy's room):"No! (pause) No! (pause) No! (pause) No!"
(At this point we realize she must be listening to Joseph. You never know what's in that CD player.)
"No! (pause) No! (pause) No! (pause) No! (pause) No! (pause) No! (pause) No! (pause) No! (slightly longer pause) Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Joel goes into the room.
"Dad, Benjamin did it."
Did what, Lucy?
"I don't know, Dad, I can't hear because you're IN HERE."