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.

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

Story:
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.

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.

Hah!

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.

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.

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.

But.

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.

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.

"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.

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.

Meg is an Idiot

Chapter MCMLXXVI
In which I attempt to burn down my house and kill my entire family in their beds

Replacement breast pump parts: $30
Replacement baby bottles: $13
Replacement favorite nonstick 8-quart soup pan: Who even knows; it was part of a set.
One call to Poison Control: Free, actually, it's a toll-free number.
Waking up to the smell of noxious fumes and thinking "why does my bedroom smell like noxious fumes?" and going back to sleep for a couple hours: Priceless!

Need I continue, or are you getting the gist? I got home from softball last night at 10:45 and thought it would be a good idea to sterilize my pump parts, plus some of Ed's bottles, while I showered. Only, I forgot to turn off the stove, and went to bed.

Where is tall-man?

Ed had his 4-month checkup today. He's fabulous (and very handsome, according to the doctor). 17 lbs, and a whopping 28.75 inches tall. Which explains why he's dangling out of his car seat AND why we had to raise the level of his "office" yesterday.

Update: I am NOT taking Chem this fall; I am taking Lifespan ("Developmental") Psych. Only one night a week for three hours (rather than two nights a week for eight total hours) -- MUCH better.

Other than that, we're just taking everything one day at a time -- working hard at communicating with the Pants (small victory today: she was eating a banana in the car on the way to the doc and then decided to drop the banana on the floor. But then immediately realized that that meant she could no longer reach, nor eat, it. She had a FIT and I explained that she could have the banana back once we got to the doctor's office. And that if she wanted to eat it, she shouldn't drop it. And I swear she stopped crying and said something like "Don't drop 'nana, can eat it." And I was like "YESSS!")... and enjoying our soon-to-be-departed neighbors and our Twins victories while we can. Happy Thursday!

Go Gone Went

Congratulations to Carol and Pat and Josie, who have a new baby (and sister, respectively)!
Genevieve (Eve) (not sure if I'm spelling that right) was born late Monday. Mom and baby are doing great!

Here's a quote I liked, found on my cup of Starbucks yesterday:

Wrangling fear is the biggest challenge the world faces now and the challenge we all face, now and again, at our crossroads, in the dark moments, at those times we are asked to compromise, at those times when we know deep down that we must revolutionize our own lives.
-- Holly Morris, Author of Adventure Divas: Searching the Globe for a New Kind of Heroine.

I have one of those air-conditioning colds I sometimes get in the summer. After three whole winters without a cold, it's an unpleasant surprise.

Lessee, what else is new?

Ed is still the wiggliest little guy. He flips himself onto his tummy in his crib and then gets mad when he can't get back over. He squirms over to the edge so he's sleeping with his legs hanging out between the bars. He's getting a little fiesty while feeding too -- pounding me with those tiny fists, and writhing his whole body. The other night he was playing this game while eating -- he'd look up and over to where Joel was sitting, wait for Joel to look at him, then smile a huge grin and quickly latch back on.

Lucy started saying either "I hate you" or "I hit you" last night. She said it (whatever it was) very clearly to both Joel and me, on three separate occasions. It was very creepy.

Happy Thursday

Okay, sorry if I got anybody too excited: that is not really Lu and Ed on Time. It just really, really looks like them. ***Dreaming of royalty checks...***

Get this: Eddie DID roll over last night. Back to front. Grampa R was there to witness. Yay Ed!

JT and I are going to see Liriano pitch tonight and we are BESIDE OURSELVES with excitement. Go 'Cisco!

Oh! And just in case you missed it...

My kids are on the cover of Time this week!

Really, though, the resemblance is kind of striking.

Hold me closer, Tony Danza.

Eddie is STILL not rolling over. Both Grandmas have told me, in no uncertain terms, that it'll be "any minute now." I think he's strong enough, but it's really just a question of motivation. He'll do it when he wants to.

I forgot to mention that when G&G Ryan were in for my bday, Lucy went tinkle in her little potty. Once. Under Gram's gentle encouragement. We were VERY surprised and delighted, though we have not yet been graced with an encore performance.

We can really understand what Lu's saying about 85% of the time now. It is truly amazing. Yesterday we were in the living room watching Elmo and I was feeding Ed, and Lu says, "Mocha-meese?" Which means, milk please? And I said, sure, honey, you left your milk on the kitchen table. And she said "Mommy get?" And I said, no way no way, if you want it, you get it yourself little darlin' and she sat there for a bit and thought, and then got up and got it. So cool.

I've been listening to Elton John at work this week. MAN do I love his songs! And they put me in SUCH a better mood than the 1979 recording of "Sweeney Todd."

So I'm registered for a Chemistry class (lab and lecture) at Century College this fall. Am I mental? Anyway, I had to get my old WSU transcript in order to enroll, and it was SO interesting looking at that thing. I took some weird classes. In fact, there's one class on there I have NO recollection of. Some Hallmark thing for Advertising... three credits and I got an A. Fall of 1997, I think. What??

Also! Remember Erin Davidson, who was in our wedding? Right, I barely do either. Anyway, Ellen apparently saw her on some crazy cable-TV "Pop Culture Tournament" or something, competing for like a quarter of a million dollars. Honestly, if there's anybody besides Stu who KNOWS pop culture, it's Erin. Or it was, when I last talked to her 6 years ago. So I hope she did well.

Pressure

I've been reading "Pride and Prejudice" for the first time; or rather, trying to read it. I'm sure it's an awesome book and I know it's a classic but for some reason I can't hardly make heads or tails of what half the sentences mean. I guess it's been a long time since I really had to concentrate on reading comprehension, and I can't say it makes for especially pleasurable entertainment. But I'm getting the gist of the story (I think) and I really want to see the movie(s).
Good God, someone rescue me, I've been swallowed by pop culture. I swore I'd never say "I can't get the book... bring on the movie!" Egads.

The 'Stones song "Jumpin' Jack Flash" is on the radio right now. This song always reminds me of a tongue-in-cheek radio conversation I heard once, where they were debating what exactly the refrain ("Jumpin' jack flash, it's a gas gas gas") was about. E.g. "Jumpin' jack flash is neither a solid, nor a liquid" or something like that.

I am so sorry I've been such a bad blogger. Life just isn't easy these days. "No one said it would be easy... but no one said it'd be this hard" is the Sheryl Crow line that keeps running through my head.

Let's talk current events for a stitch here. The death of Ken Lay really has me thinking. For one, I'm thinking maybe he faked it. That aside, let's say he really did pass away yesterday. What are we supposed to learn from this? That yup, you should go ahead and steal from your employees because you could die before you get sentenced? Isn't that terrible? I know the government is still seeking something like $45 million in damages from him. What happens to that, now that he's gone? What about the decades of prison time he was facing? Am I really to accept that it all just gets wiped away? I don't know, the whole thing really has me down on our justice system, and the justice of life in general. Of course, life's not fair. Worse people have probably gotten away with worse. But it really discontents (I looked it up; it's a transitive verb -- who on earth remembers what that is?) me. I'd be interested to hear what your thoughts are on this -- whether from a religious standpoint, a moral standpoint, or just a concerned-citizen's standpoint. I know my thoughts aren't really well-thought-out, for which I apologize.

This looks like enough for a post. More later, perhaps?

The fastest thing on three legs

Photos of Marnie and me, dominating our building's three-legged event yesterday. Note our intensity... and the largeish, long-legged men we vanquished.

Also note the guy on the far right in the second photo (and far left in the third photo), who, in his defense, also had to battle a couple trees.
Also, I have the race final on video, which does better justice to the actual excitement of the event. I think I can email that to you, upon request.

"How To Win Three-Legged Races and Influence People" seminars coming soon to a convention center near you!

I've received a thinly-veiled threat of being fired for internet usage at work... so I'm blogging from home.

Joel wanted to say a few things. But he won't write, so I do it for him.

We went to a movie in Alexandria over the weekend -- DaVinci Code, actually. It was decent. Cheesy... but not dreadful. As it turns out, Jesus really was a woman!
But seriously, folks, we were especially impressed by the etiquette of our fellow moviegoers. It was a teeny little theatre, with maybe only 15 rows of seats. Maybe 10. Anyway, we like to sit toward the front, but not too close, which in this case was about Row Three. Unfortunately, there was Couple #1 seated near the center of Row Four, and we thought, gee, we shouldn't plop down right in front of them. So we moved a few seats in, and sat.
So another couple comes in behind us and goes to sit in our row, but that would have landed them directly in front of Couple #1. They immediately realize this, about-face, and proceed to Row Two. It was such a lovely display of congenial Minnesotaism. I am so proud.

Okay, this next story isn't Joel's. But it's Happy To Be a Minnesotan Part Deux.
So Donald Trump was giving some get-rich-quick seminar in Minneapolis and... why am I typing this? I can just link you to the story. Click here. Okay, wait, that article doesn't exactly explain what happened... apparently only like 4,000 people showed up. Anyway, I love that.

Back to Joel's stories. He also wanted to share that this morning he popped his head into Lucy's room to wake her up, and she was sitting up in bed, so he grabbed her clothes and diaper and then went to put on his shoes and socks and gel his hair, all the while singing "Where is Thumbkin" to her. He went back into her room to get her and... no Lucy. So he peeked in the living room and there she is, laying on her back, feet in the air, just waiting for her diaper change. You have to picture it in your head, it's cute, honestly.

We had a fabulous evening tonight -- our Neighborinos had some people looking at their house, so Neighborina and the Neighboriños (plus a bonus Neighb-amiga) came over for chili *dinner. We dined in the gazebo, scarfing chili and sipping wine in between referreeing three toddlers perched on telephone books. The tods did their hilarious-toddler thing, much to our delight. After several fits, of course, regarding the proper way to serve chili (i.e. the toddler-preferred ratio of one teaspoon chili : one cup sour cream, which is not Mom's first choice).

*Chili! I invented a chili! It could NOT be easier, and so I present to you the recipe:
Three-Can-Chili
3 cooked, cubed chicken breasts (or three cooked, cubed small steaks)
1 small chopped onion (but I've made it without)
1 can corn (tonight I used 1/2 pkg frozen spinach, thawed, instead)
1 can diced tomatoes
1 can black or kidney or any other kind of beans. Or a combo, if you're doubling the recipe.
1 Tb chili powder
1/2 Tb dried cilantro
1 Tb "It's a Dilly" or dill seasoning... or not.
1 tsp cumin (but I think my beans had extra cumin in them, so maybe a little more)Shakea-shakea Tabasco, if that's your thing.

-->Make sure the meat is cooked, then sauté up the onion and add in the spinach to cook it a little, if that's what you're using. Then throw in everything else. Bring it to a boil, or don't, and then serve. You can't go wrong.

We interrupt this blog...

You will simply have to excuse my sporadic blogging. It's a difficult time right now. And on top of it all, my fridge is freezing things again. Which would be great if IT WERE A FREEZER. But if I wanted an enormous, stand-up freezer, I would certainly go out and purchase one (used, from Craig's list, most likely). What I really want, however, is a stinkin' fridge. Actually, I don't really even want a fridge, per se; to paraphrase an old Advertising-class mantra, what I want is chilled food. Chilled. Not solid-blocks-of-ice food.

At least the Twins are winning.

The real father of my child

Is the resemblance not striking? Eh, maybe not.

New blogs to keep up on...

I mentioned my cousins Bridget and Kate have new blogs. Now, you have links! Either click on their names, respectively, in the first line, or click the links on the right side of the page.

I have the song "Blood on the Coal" (from "A Mighty Wind" soundtrack) stuck in my head. Much to my chagrin and frustration. And occasional amusement.