Tales of Suburban Reality

Permanent Vacation

2010-05-13T12:43:00.000-07:00

Relief. That has been the overwhelming feeling in this first week of unemployment. Relief and disblief. Somewhat like waking up from a long and tedious dream in which you have been a captive. A captive of corporate America, toiling for men whose faces you know only through company newsletters in which they tell you that while you are one of the lucky that still have a job, you will now be doing the jobs of the unlucky in addition to your own. And no, there will be no merit increases this year. Silly of you to ask.

And lest you think that I became one of the unlucky. . . . I should let you know, I quit. After twelve years with my company and weeks of deliberation and budgeting and bouts of anxiety, Damonn and I took a giant leap of faith and told The Man to shove it. We became a single-income family. And while I should not claim victory before the entire month's bills have arrived, I must admit there is a certain strength in doing something not entirely common-sense. For once in our lives.

So begins a new chapter. The fourth chapter in my life as I see it. The one where the fair lady returns home to tend to her husband and family and life. . . . . and mabye even herself.

You Know It's Monday When. . . .

2009-09-21T09:39:00.000-07:00

You know it's Monday when a peanut butter chip falls from your granola bar and melts in the crotch of your black dress pants.

Pissing In The Wind

2009-09-20T16:31:00.000-07:00

Yesterday while sitting on the freeway off-ramp on the way back from our bi-monthly trip to Costco, trips which have only slightly slowed since our end of diapers and baby wipes, we got to witness a bum taking a piss on the side of the road. Right there along a line of waiting motorists in broad daylight, the urge hit him and he decided to relieve himself. I screeched at Damonn to take a picture - Quick! - because, seriously, would this story not have been even better if you actually got to see the same dirty bum ass I did peeking out below his shirtails?? But alas, the traffic started to move before we had the chance so you will just have to imagine your own dirty bum ass. I suppose I should be horrified that my children were witness to such indecency, but you know me better than that. I pointed and laughed and considered yelling compliments out the window. And this, this part about a man's bare butt outside my car window, this isn't even the best part of the story because about a mile down the road, when all talk and laughter about the him had stopped, out of the blue Jamie added, "I shink dat man was trying to kill a cow. He had a stick." This is why I had children.

To Choose or Not To Choose

2009-09-03T10:31:00.000-07:00

I've been trying to write a post regarding my feelings on the whole public health care debate. I've been gathering information and listening to opinions, wading through the foul swamps of rants and deliberate distractions and I keep coming back to the same spot: We need reform and we need options.

When my sister was 18 she needed surgery to remove some cysts. We were out of the house and sharing an apartment and she was too old for my parent’s job-provided health care coverage. She was going to community college and only working part-time for minimum wage at a pizza restaurant but still made $100 too much per month to qualify for the Oregon Health Plan. If only she had gotten knocked up in high school so she had a dependent or two she would have then qualified and been covered completely. Instead, she was left to pay for the entire surgery herself, making payments to the doctor and the hospital for the next seven years - all because she was one year too old and a $100 too rich.

When I was pregnant with Adam we were fortunate enough to be covered by the health insurance through my employer. It was very good insurance that covered all but 10% (which still amounted to around $2000 for us for a very normal, easy pregnancy) of doctor and delivery fees. I wanted more than anything to quit work and stay home with Adam. We looked at every possible angle, even talking to a financial counselor on how to make it work, but it just didn’t pencil out. The biggest hang up was insurance. I had great insurance but it meant that I had to keep working. Damonn’s employer paid for his insurance, but it would cost us $700 a month to add me and Adam onto the policy. We might have managed without my salary, but just couldn’t swing the extra cost of insurance on top of it. Instead of paying an additional $700 a month we contemplated just paying the bills ourselves as they came up. That’s a great idea until you get a $800 bill for a single middle-of-the-night visit to the ER for an ear infection. A visit that included only the use of a thermometer, a look in the ear and a dose of Tylenol. You suddenly understand the actual size of the financial cliff you could be confronted with should something catastrophic happen. So I went back to work and the kids went to daycare. We seem no worse for the wear, but how many other families are faced with the same dilemma of a dad that provides the better salary and the mom that provides the better insurance? How many other moms or dads would be home with their kids if they had a choice?

And what about the man at my work who has an epileptic daughter? What will happen if he is laid off and has to purchase independent insurance (if he can afford it) that won’t cover her pre-existing condition? Or the lady at my work with Lupus? The usual drugs used to keep this disease in check make her sick, but her insurance won’t cover the other drug because it is too experimental.

And as the debate rages on I hear people screaming about freedom and choice, about death panels and denied coverage and I think, are these people independently wealthy or just clueless? Do we have any real choice now? Is a choice between what your employer provides (if anything) and paying for the bills yourself really a choice? Or maybe it is the choice between choosing medical treatment and choosing groceries that they are so adamantly refusing to give up. Which, by the way, is a very real decision for some families. Do they not realize that the insurance companies already tell us what doctor we can see and what medicines they will pay for all the while raking in enough cash to pay for box seats and bonuses?

I am under no illusions that a public option (emphasis on the option) provided by the government will be perfect. What is? But how can your argument against a public option be based on freedom and choice when that is exactly what you will be getting. . . . another choice and the freedom to choose. There are no easy answers here and I’m sure we won’t get it right the first time around, but doesn’t it deserve a fair and rational conversation? A conversation without shrieking and insults and threats of secession? We need reform and we need options and those are most likely not going to come from those with the loudest voices. So let’s turn off the Pelosi’s and the Limbaugh’s, put down our picket signs and and get to work. This is important.

Search And Seizure

2009-08-31T21:01:00.000-07:00

I write this post, the third post in a row about the tales of Adam with the fear that this may be turning into a blog only about him or that readers may forget that, yes, I do have another child. But as much as I sometimes try, the antics of Adam simply cannot be ignored.

Yesterday we celebrated Adam's 6th birthday at the park with friends and family. It was a Star Wars birthday celebration complete with inflatable light saber party favors and a Darth Vader cake featuring a Darth Vader mask surrounded by red

sparkly "force". Adam received several fantastic gifts including Lego sets and a bone digging paleontology project. But his favorite gift was the Darth Maul Lego character that Jamie gave him. It's just a little guy built out of Lego's, but fits into his Lego Star Wars ships and planes and comes with his trademark double light saber. The last of which should not be taken lightly should you happen to stop by that galaxy far, far away - or Adam's bedroom. A double light saber is serious business.

It was the fascination of this double light saber that persuaded Adam to secretly take Darth Maul to school on a very non-Friday, non-toy-bringing day. It was also the item that caught the attention of his teacher, Miss Camille and led to the eventual discovery of Darth Maul himself. I'm not sure how the actual conversation between Adam and his teacher went down, but when Damonn arrived this afternoon, Darth Maul was safely secured in a Ziploc baggy, double light saber in hand. Miss Camille dangled him from her fingertips within his plastic lair as she explained the reason that the evil sith was secure behind germ proof plastic. Apparently, in an effort to avert parental detection Darth Maul had made the trip to school as a stowaway in Adam's underwear.

Damonn told this story over dinner tonight and I tried my best to keep a straight face. I really did. For at least 30 seconds I hid my face behind my napkin as my eyes watered and my mind whirled with unanswered questions. And then I lost it. The thought of a small plastic Lego character riding safely between Adam's buns all the way to school is just more than a parent can take with straight face.

Thank you, Thank you, I'll Be Here All Week!

2009-08-04T14:54:00.000-07:00

You know those cartoons where the Sylvester the Cat sits down on something hot but doesn't realize it until after he smells his tail burning? That's kinda what I felt like as Adam snuck up on me with his first ever joke. Really, I should have seen this coming, but considering I was explaining a Knock Knock joke earlier this week, it really came out of the blue. And speaking of blue, I present to you Adam's maiden voyage into rehearsed comedy:

Hey Mom, what's your name?

Tiffany.

What color is the sky?

Blue.

What's the opposite of down?

Up.

Tiffany blew up! Hahahahahahah!!!

And because every good comedian knows when to keep it clean and when to go blue (no pun intended), he waited to whisper the "other way to say the joke" in my ear. (whispering) You take out the part about the sky and ask them what's the opposite of open. Shut! Tiffany shut up! Hehehehehhe!

The sinister giggle that followed was as priceless as the joke.

Dreams Do Come True

2009-06-10T19:40:00.000-07:00

Adam, do you have any homework tonight?

No, I only had two worksheets today.

Really, only two?

Well, I had more but when I got back from recess the rest were gone. It was like some kind of miracle or something!

Happy Mother's Day!

2009-05-08T11:41:00.000-07:00

Thanks to my good friend, Sybil for the nomination and Happy Mother's Day to all of my fellow mothers. We all deserve to be honored as Mother of the Year 2009!

Follow link to watch video coverage. . . .

http://news.cnnbcvideo.com/?nid=A8Ki9rbnAfu5TCvmv6lXqjQxODg1NTA-&referred_by=15848124-9Uzw9lx&p=moveon

A New Rendition

2009-04-26T07:44:00.000-07:00

"Sing the baby song, Daddy, sing the baby song!", squealed Jamie. Of course he obliged and they both started in on one of Jamie's new favorites. . . . . .

Hush little baby don't say word
Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird
And if that mockingbird don't sing
Daddy's gonna buy you a diamond ring
And if that diamond ring don't shine
Daddy's gonna buy you a new behind
And if that behind does not toot
Daddy's gonna buy you a bowl of fruit.

Damonn's explaination to my look of WTF?. . . . . "I couldn't remember the real words."

Big Red

2009-04-14T20:41:00.000-07:00

When I walked into my hair salon last week, I had no intentions of making such a big change in my life. And when I told my hair dresser I was tired of my usual blonde highlights and was looking for something with a little more red in it, I never imagined just how red she would take it. And when she removed the towel from head and revealed a color that would make Orphan Annie jealous I wasn't sure how I was going to walk into work the next day much less walk back into my house and face Damonn with a straight face. But after a week with the color I no longer startle myself everytime I pass a mirror and I have to say it is actually growing on me. So with out further ado, I present to you, the new me. . . . . .

Longing To Be Toothless

2009-04-06T20:41:00.000-07:00

By the grace of God and the strength of spit Adam's front tooth is still hanging on. And one of those two things is apparently pretty strong because even though it is hanging at such an angle that people actually think he has already lost it, this little baby tooth has held on through all kinds of tugs and twists.

Adam is anxious to get it out. In part, simply for the monetary reward that the tooth holds, but also for the status it holds at school, He longs to be the latest kid with the nerve to rip another piece of babyhood from their body, tossing it to the side as if to say, "Yeah, that's right (spit), I pulled my own tooth (spit). You should have seen me last week when when a third grader tried to take my lunch and I removed his spleen with a spoon (spit)."

Just don't tell anybody he cries when his little sister pinches him.

Pretty, Pretty Please. . .

2009-04-01T09:50:00.000-07:00

I've heard about them, even seen them on the internets, but I spotted my first, real live Palin 2012 presidential bumper sticker on a car today. I can imagine nothing better than to have Gov. Palin run for president in 2012. Just the possiblity of the sheer, raw comedic value of her participation makes me giddy with anticipation.

Help Us Make A Powerful Noise

2009-03-04T20:42:00.001-08:00

Facts Of Life

2009-02-23T21:33:00.000-08:00

After months of doing our best to paint the simple act of using the toilet as something only slightly less rewarding than bathing in chocolate syrup, Jamie finally decided that using the big open hole of a toilet was better than crouching in the corner and shitting your own pants. But it wasn't stickers or pennies or star charts that finally convinced her of the benefits of basic human hygiene. In the end, it was just a simple conversation about some undeniable facts of life.

Jamie, you have to sit down to go potty, like mommy does.

No, I don't. I can stand up.

No, sweetie you can't, girls have to sit down.

Yes, I caaaaan! I can stand up like Adam.

I'm sorry, honey but you can't.

Yes, I CAAAAAN! I HAVE A PENIS!!!

No, honey you don't. You're on the girls team. You're on the girls team with Mommy and Grandma and Kim and Lindi and Kayla and Brooklyn and Nana. We're all girls and we all have to sit down to go potty.

Oh. Okay. I need to go potty now.

Flying High

2009-02-21T13:59:00.000-08:00

Last weekend Damonn and I were treated to a few days in San Diego for a manager's retreat with his company. We stayed at the Hotel Del Coronado on beautiful Coronado island which is rich with both Hollywood and military history. The island is filled with turn-of-the-century homes with fantastic architecture. Damonn and I laughed about how we'd love to retire there. . . you know, like if we won the lottery or Jamie married into royalty or something.

We had delicious dinners and relaxing evenings of drinks with friends and even had a chance to check out the USS Midway. The Midway is an aircraft carrier used up through the 70's or 80's which has now been turned into a floating museum. It is a self-guided "headset" tour but there are plenty of veteran volunteers and patrons willing to share with you their first-hand experiences aboard this ship or flying the aircraft used on it. It was very interesting seeing the inner workings of a ship this size and to get a peek into the daily life of a mid-century sailor. I wish we could have stayed longer but we had to catch our flight. No, not our flight home. . .

THIS FLIGHT:

Yep, I flew in an authentic 1920's bi-plane and it was amazing! I now understand how those first flights must have captured the hearts of our early aviators. There is nothing like the feeling of freedom and adventure when the wheels first lift off the ground. And seeing the world at 1500 feet with the fresh sea air in your face. . . well, you don't get a feeling like that in the daily grind of the suburbs. But best of all was when Drew, my friendly and apparently fearless pilot, turned over the controls and gave me a shot at flying that bird. It was easier than I thought it would be, mostly just moving a big joystick to keep the plane flying evenly. But like they say, flying a plane is easy, the hard part is landing it. And Drew wasn't that fearless.

I absolutely recommend this and the rest of our trip to anyone visiting the San Diego area. The guys at Fun Flights (www.barnstorming.com) are fantastic and are willing to accommodate special requests within their flying range (they let me fly past the Hotel Del). They also offer Warbird and AirCombat flights for those looking for a little more adventure than "riding in a convertible at 1500ft."!

Carpe Diem!

The International Language of Cartoon

2009-02-01T12:42:00.000-08:00

The other night, after a particularly grumpy day by all involved I called an impromptu Family Movie Night. So while I threw a bag of popcorn in the microwave Damonn started the movie and got the kids settled into the big bed in our room. When I came in a few minutes later everyone was planted quietly in their preferred spot, the kids intent on the featured attraction and Damonn flipping through a magazine (how many times can you pretend to be interested in The Sword and the Stone?). I quickly settled into my spot between the kids and started watching the movie. Something immediately caught my attention and I started looking around to see if anyone else was noticing. Nope, kids were still enthralled in the antics of Merlin the Wizard onscreen and Damonn was still casually scanning his magazine pages. I couldn't help myself and started giggling. This of course caught every one's attention and I was suddenly surround by three faces with expressions of, "What?"

"I dunno know", I shrugged pointing towards the T.V., "I was just wondering if it might be more enjoyable if we didn't watch the entire movie in Chinese."

WANTED: Three Pieces of I.D. And Your Right Kidney

2009-01-30T16:34:00.000-08:00

You know what I love about the DMV? I mean, besides the way their camera makes a completely normal law-abiding citizen look like a career felon. I like the way they put everyone on a level playing field. A business man in a three-piece suit, a gangly first-time teenage driver, a middle-aged mom that can't find her driver's license anywhere even though she's checked every coat pocket, every purse, under every car seat, and the dryer after every load for weeks on end. We are all at the hands of a few individuals armed with the power of rules we had no hand in making and have no ability to alter. Rules that require us to dig through dark corners of the closet and sift through years of memorabilia looking for long-lost, crumpled documents. Like, your birth certificate to prove you're a legal citizen, your social security card to cross-check that you don't have outstanding child support payments, and your marriage license to prove that your name legally changed. No, your social security card doesn't do that, at least not according to the DMV. My favorite is needing a bill in your name with your home residence on it, but without a P.O. Box listed. Somehow having a P.O. Box on the envelope along with your home address voids the place you actually live. That is, unless your homeless. In which case, as the Oregon DMV website puts it, you can use a desciptive address such as, (and I quote) "under the west end of the Burnside Bridge".

Yep. The rest of us must dig through boxes and bills to find something that comes directly to our house and not to a P.O. Box, but if you mention that you're homeless, well, just a vague corner of the city will work just fine too. So much for that even playing field, huh? I bet their pictures turn out looking like glamour shots, too.

Wonder Wheel

2009-01-25T20:49:00.000-08:00

You'll have to excuse the tardiness of our well wishes. I've been trying to get this video posted for the last two weeks, but the first time I finished it I realized it was way too big to post on blogger and had to start over using a different format. So finally, here it is. . . . The Year 2008: A Review in Pictures. The song I used is Wonder Wheel by Dan Zanes from the For The Kids album. The first time I heard it I knew it was the perfect anthem to the crazy ups and downs of our life.

so begins another day
crazy stops along the way
think of funny things to say
and ride the wonder wheel

going round and around,
it takes us up and it takes us down
i love the sights and i love the sounds
riding on the wonder wheel

So here's to another year, folks. May it be even better than the last and may it always be filled with wonder.

The Winds of Change

2009-01-23T21:20:00.001-08:00

Okay, so I didn't get around to writing the same night - I spent it skipping through the eight hours of inauguration footage I had recorded on the DVR and basking in the glow of the new First Family. And rest assured that that glow has kept me walking on air the entire week. Watching and celebrating as Barack Obama was sworn in as President of the United States has been the perfect cure to my winter blues. Its like opening the windows on a brilliantly sunny winter day and letting a crisp, cool breeze blow all that old stagnant air out of the house. I imagine the Obamas doing the same thing in the White House. Letting that energy that always seems to surround their family flow through and recharge that place like it has recharged the country.

I read somewhere this week that the curtains are usually changed along with a change in the administration. At first I thought this seemed like an unecessary extravagance given the current economic situation, but then I thought about it some more and realized that a light dusting and a spray of Febreeze just isn't gonna cut the smell of Bush. The curtains had to go. . . . . . and maybe the carpet too. And anyone know a good exterminator? Actually, we might be okay there. I heard all the rats and roaches were headed off somewhere towards Texas.

A Moment In History

2009-01-20T08:39:00.000-08:00

I'm currently holed up in the server room at my office listening online to CNNradio.com to hear as Barack Obama becomes our 44th president. I'm visibly jittering in my chair. At least I think that's why the letters on my laptop screen won't sit still. I can't remember the last time I've been this excited. I want to write more, but I have to listen now. . . . only 15 more minutes. More later tonight after Adam and I watch it together on TV!

I Made It Through December. . .

2009-01-11T20:44:00.000-08:00

A Continuation. . . . .

I have so much to tell you about, like all the details of my "hen party" in Seattle with two of my best friends where we shopped at our leisure for silly magnets, cheap sunglasses and the perfect pair of jeans. Where we slept in beds with down matresses and ate Italian food so good I completely forgot that Kraft existed (If you're ever in Seattle you must stop at Tulio's downtown and order anything with their homemade ricotta cheese. It was lighter and fluffier than the down mattress at the W hotel. An absolute taste of heaven). And when we awoke from our peaceful childless slumber late the next morning a light dusting of snow had the city looking Christmas-card perfect. But that bit of snow was just the beginning of what was about to hit our usually rain-soaked Northwest. Just the beginning of two weeks of clausterphobic, snow-falling, car-spinning, ice-crunching hell.

A further continuation. . . . .

As my train from Seattle got further and further south the snow got heavier and heavier and by the time we reached the station the temperature had dropped considerably and there were several inches of snow on the ground. Chains (put on expertly and graciously by my friend's husband as I sat in their warm truck and watched the the wind blow snow in his face. I still owe you one Dan!) got me home that night. The next week (as most of you know) was like a game of Russian roulette on whether or not work/school would be open or if you'd even be able to get out of your driveway. Through it all my little Mazda sedan was a champ. And with the help of those chains, which didn't leave our tires for almost two weeks, it got us where we needed to go. . . until the day I absolutely, positively, no questions asked, HAD to be at work. That is the day our chains decided to give out.

Almost 18" of snow creates some casualties and the roof on the warehouse of the company I work for was one of them. A conference call on Christmas Eve sent a group of us into action and my boss's boss on a flight up here on Christmas Day. And when your boss's boss flys on Christmas Day to help you out (the next day) it really doesn't matter if there is still 8" of snow and ice on your street, your chains are lying broken in the driveway and two tow truck companies refuse you their services, you MUST still get to work. And so with this gumption, this fear of the unemployment line and a rusty ol' garden shovel I dug a path through snow and ice for our chainless tires to follow from our driveway to the already available ruts in the middle of our street. And again I dug a few feet down our street. And again at the end our street. With frosty, frustrated, snow-hating tears running down my face and two kids murdering each other in the backseat of an overheated car, I was determined to get to the (finally) plowed highway.

We finally made it, about the same time the sun rose, only to realize the road to the daycare was just as bad as our neighborhood. Now we were a whole new kind of stuck. It was a clear road to work, but we had the kids in the backseat with no way to get to daycare and no way to get back home - at least not without a lot more digging. There was really only one choice. My dear husband took one for the team. I dropped him and our two bundled kids off at the edge of our neighborhood and took off for work - an hour and a half late - and he slipped and tripped his way back to our house with both kids in tow. I'd say I owe him for that but I'm still so far ahead on favors nobody's even counting anymore.

And in conclusion. . . .

And somewhere smashed in between multiple spin-outs on major highways and breaking inch-thick ice in our backyard so our dog could take a crap without breaking a hip, Christmas came and went. I have a vague memory of it, smiling faces digging through stockings and a hideous Christmas dinner at Shari's restaurant (that's a whole other story for a later time), but mostly I just wanted it all to be over. The snow, the ice, the tinsel, the fir needles. . . . . December. I wanted it out the door. And so my shouts of jubilation on New Year's Eve were not so much an expression of joy for the possibilities of the new year, but for the thankful deliverance from the last. . . . and of course that third glass of red wine.

If I Can Make It Through December. . . .

2008-12-28T13:27:00.000-08:00

Isn't there a country song that goes something like that? If I can make it through December, everything will be alright. Only three more days. . . . . I think. I'm not really sure at this point. I feel like I have scratched and clawed my way through every day of this month and finally I can see the light of the New Year. I just hope the light isn't an oncoming train.

I know it's been forever since I've written. Or at least it seems like it. Then again, Thanksgiving seems like a holiday that happened about three years ago, so what do I know. Where did I leave off? Oh yeah, Santa Claus was coming to town. Well, he did, but before he got here, Mother Nature, Old Man Winter and Jack Frost all got together and decided to have a pissing contest right in our corner of the continent. I couldn't tell you which of them won. All I know is that it wasn't the residents of the greater Portland metro area.

But still, I'm getting ahead of myself. There are things to tell even before "Arctic Blast '08" decided to roll into town. . . . . .

To Be Continued. . . . .

Santa Claus Is Coming To Town!

2008-12-15T20:36:00.000-08:00

Every year part of the Christmas festivities in our community includes Santa flying into town on a helicopter and this year was no exception. We met some friends for donuts and then bundled up and headed to the shopping center where Santa would make this year's Christmas debut. The wind was cold, but the sun was shining and you really can't ask for more than that in Oregon. After landing, Santa made his way around the cordoned off circle of eager boys and girls for hand-shaking and photo ops, then headed inside to get down to the serious business of toy requests.

We bided our time in line for the hour or more it took to reach Santa, but it was all worth it to Adam. There was no way he was passing up the opportunity to ask for the Millennium Falcon. . . and the Bat Cave. As we were walking back to our car, Adam sidled up to me and whispered, "Santa knew about Jaba the Hut and Han Solo. How does he know all that Star Wars stuff?"

Because Santa is magic. . . . . . and apparently a Sci-Fi geek.

What A Girl Wants, What A Girl Needs

2008-12-09T19:23:00.000-08:00

The "work" of Christmas is almost over. Except for a couple of stocking stuffers I have all my shopping done and most of it is already wrapped and under the tree. After years of being the primary holiday shopper in this family I've finally gotten smart the last couple of years. Instead of braving the malls on the weekends when the whole damn planet seems to pack themselves into the local Macy's, I take a day off work and hit the stores with latte in hand and absolutely zero children in tow. In about five hours I make a major dent in the Christmas list and my stress level never even hits "anxious".

Part of what I love about getting out there and scouring the stores is finding that one item that makes you stop and say, "What the hell?" Some of you may remember the Santa blow-up doll socks from last year. They still make me shake my head. This year? Well, this year it was the Pink Ouija board by Parker Brothers that made my cart and my head do a 360 in the middle of Toys-R-Us.

Yes, folks your young adolescent girls can now have their very own window to the underworld in a new fashionable color! It comes complete with a box of "questions girls want to know" like, "Who will be the next to call/text me? Will I be famous? Who wants to be me?" and a zippered carrying case for easy travel to their next pajama party!

Now whether you believe Ouija boards can cause any real harm or not, you have to admit Ouija just lost all street cred. In fact, he just had his balls handed to him in a purse. A pink one.

Attack of the Smurfette

2008-12-03T19:32:00.000-08:00

One day I'll learn my lesson, but I'm pretty sure today is not that day. Every once in awhile I tell myself how fun it would be to do a holiday craft with the kids. Something simple, something easy. I imagine us painting and smiling while we sip hot cocoa and glue on googly-eyes to the latest feature project in Family Fun magazine. This season, I set my sights on this little gem:

Now this really is a simple craft, especially if you have most items on hand, which I don't so it cost me about $15 dollars just to get started. Then there's this small detail: Adam all but detests art. His idea of a craft is three seconds with a black crayon. So tonight when I announced we were making a terra cotta Nativity scene, he just looked at me blankly and continued playing. Jamie on the other hand loves art and in the future will probably be right there with me making pipe cleaner reindeer, but at the moment she is two. Which means she loves to paint, but would rather paint herself than mini terra cotta pots.

So as I type, my tub is encrusted with a blue ring, my table needs a scrubbing as well and the terra cotta pots are covered in nothing more than fingerprints, but I'm sure I'll give it another try the next time glitter paint catches my eye because even if nothing but a mess is actually made, its all worth it for pictures like this:

Mayhem At The Mall

2008-11-28T05:54:00.000-08:00

I just returned from Black Friday shopping. Yes, it only 6am and I am already done. I have survived the onslaught of like-minded holiday shoppers and returned to tell about it. And what do I have to tell? That people care way too much about $5 DVD's. And that I'm grateful that the rental car we have has Maryland plates because there is no way I would have realized that I was trying to get into the wrong tan Sienna if I hadn't been for this small detail. And yes, there was someone waiting for my spot that then watched me move over two spots to the other tan Sienna. The one with the taillights blinking everytime I tried to unsuccessfully unlock the doors of the van I was standing in front of.

Damonn thinks I'm crazy do get up this early to save a few dollars and usually I'd agree, but something was drawing me to that Wal-Mart parking lot this morning that I just couldn't ignore. I thought it was the Blu-ray DVD player for $129, but once I was shoulder to shoulder with the most determined of Roseburg shoppers, I realized what had drawn me here was the social experiment of it all. To watch people levy their carts and manuever their bodies to cut in line for an $8 dollar coat that was normally only $15 all because it was a "Black Friday" special. It is truly corporate marketing at its best.

I have one suggestion for the organizers of Wal-mart black Friday. Ban shopping carts. Make it survival of the fitests. If you can't carry it, you don't buy it. That way I wouldn't have to punch the sweaty post-menapausal woman blocking the aisle with her cart while she digs waist deep in a bin for the pink Mp3 player.

Welcome to the Holiday shopping season everyone!

T-minus 10 Seconds to Turkey Day

2008-11-27T08:08:00.000-08:00

After three days of Jamie asking if it is time to go to Roseburger, we are packed and loaded and everyone is whining so yes, Jamie, I believe it is finally time to head to Roseburger. I hope everyone has a happy and hearty Thanksgiving filled with more relatives than you can stand.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Politics, Protest And Power

2008-11-25T11:25:00.000-08:00

Saying Adam has a tendency to fly off the handle is a understatement. He can go from helpfully setting the table to a puddle of fury and loathing at the flip of a switch. (I wonder where he gets that from) I just wish I knew where that switch was located. I would find it and layer it in inches of packing tape so that at no time could it be accidentally switched on ever again. And then perhaps our family may be able to consume one dinner in peace - even if (gasp!) pork or pea pods or potatoes or pineapple - or whatever new food he decided he now absolutely detests was being served.

Food, once again, was the catalyst for such dire emotions as we left their daycare last night. Damonn was going to a Blazer's game with a friend so we were on our own for dinner. I announced that we were going to McDonald's and waited for the cheers and confetti. Instead I received a proclamation from Adam that we were going to "Volunteer and have a battle between McDonald's and Shari's". After several clarifying questions into what in the hell he was talking about, I came to the conclusion that he wanted to vote (not volunteer) on where we ate dinner. I hate Shari's. I hate everything about Shari's. From the way that everything is served luke warm, to the apparent pool of grease that everything is cooked in, to the ridiculous price they ask you to pay for such fare. But being the proponent of democracy that I am, and knowing full well that Jamie will always pick McDonald's, I agreed to his suggestion.

So how did Adam take to his democratic loss? Let's just say there was less anger and mayhem after the Rodney King verdict than there was in the back seat of our car last night. And the range of tactics he used to first persuade our votes and then push for a re-vote was quite impressive. But when he ended his tirade in saying that voting Shari's actually meant McDonald's and vice-versa so really Shari's had won, I just had to laugh. Politics is definitely in his future. Or maybe a future in defending such politicians.

But the night didn't end there, folks. Oh no. Because I don't take kindly to a five-year old holding a personal political protest in my back seat, I made the executive decision to have PB&J at home. By the time we pulled into the driveway his "kid power" fist in the air shenanigans had turned to the calmer approach of civil disobedience. He now refused to get out of the car. Again, his tactics were impressive, his stamina. . . . not so much. Within about 90 seconds of Jamie and I leaving him for the warmth of our kitchen he was following behind, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

The Man will always win, Adam. You have to be The Man to beat The Man. Only then will you be able to rule with all the evil that you possess.

It's The Little Things That Squeak Up On You

2008-11-20T15:06:00.001-08:00

Yesterday I noticed that the steering wheel in my car is making this faint, little mouse-of-a squeak when I make a turn. Today the strap on my laptop case started squeaking with the rhythm of my walk down the street. This afternoon my right shoe began squeaking with every step. All of this makes me fear that my life is on the verge of coming loose at the seams. Either that or it's just my brain grinding to a halt.

Tension Breaker

2008-11-15T12:48:00.001-08:00

We were all hungry and getting a bit grouchy this morning as we drove back from visiting the Children's Museum. After asking, reminding and then demanding several times that the kids keep their hands to themselves and quit the incessant screeching I reached my breaking point when Adam tilted his head and gave me a smirk that said, "Really? What can you actually do to me speeding down the road buckled into a car?"

I turned to Damonn and muttered under my breath, "If we don't get out of this car I am going to wipe that fucking grin off his face!"

Adam apparently heard me and instantly shrieked, "Aaaww! I heard you! You said Millennium Falcon!"

Damonn and I looked at each other and just started laughing. Guess what the new expletive phrase is in our house?

Grendel: Controversy Hits the Burbs

2008-11-14T21:22:00.000-08:00

Last night I attended my first ever school board meeting. Well, now that I think about it, it was actually my second. My first being when I gave a presentation to the Roseburg School Board at age 12 as co-editor of the high-class production that was our two-page Elementary School newsletter (printed on goldenrod paper, of course). The only thing I distinctly remember about that night is my teacher being irritated that I didn’t wear a dress. Not much has changed.

The topic that drew me and about 300 of my fellow townspeople to the meeting last night was a proposal by parents to have the book, Grendel, by John Gardner removed from the Sophomore Advanced English class curriculum. Well, I should be honest. What really drew me was a caller on the Rick Emerson Radio Program calling in to state that a small group of Mormons were trying have a book banned from our local high school and since very few things chap my hide more than a religious group trying to dictate how others should live their life, I was determined to be in attendance. But alas, from the reading I did before the meeting and the several people who stood to make their case for both sides of the issue last night, I gathered that it wasn’t an all out ban on the book that these parents were looking for but the removal of the book from a particular curriculum.

Their stance on the issue is that while they respect Grendel as a work of literature (which, by comments both in person and on the handout they passed around, I feel this was said more for their argument than their actual belief), the several instances of graphic language depicting rape, torture and mutilation are not appropriate for fifteen-year old children. And even though this novel is used in many sophomore classes across the country, they felt that the same aspects of human nature could be taught and discussed just as easily with a less explicit selection and that we could and should do better for our children. They were also concerned with the lack of explanation on the permission slip that went home to parents as to the nature of Grendel and felt that this non- communication to the parents was intentional so as not to bring to light the type of literature that was being read.

From the viewpoint of the high school English department and many parents in attendance last night, Grendel is regarded as excellent literature and that while there are parts that are graphic, the overall theme and message behind the actual words are great catalysts for classroom discussion. They also pointed out this is an advanced, college prep, optional course and feel that the students accepted to this class are mature enough to process and discuss the graphic content. And in regards to the parent’s concern about the permission slips, a three-hour workshop – in which the protesting parents participated – the high school had came up with a more comprehensive permission slip for parents, optional books that could be read in place of Grendel if parents did not approve and were still working on a way to better incorporate those students in the overall classroom discussion.

Where do I stand on all of this? Let me first state that I have not read Grendel. I did read what I assume is most if not all of the passages in protest passed around on the printed version of the argument and in no uncertain terms, it is graphic. I even found myself balking at certain phrases, but is it too graphic for a 15-year old? I suppose that depends upon the 15-year old. Does the content of the book outweigh the vulgarity of the prose? I don’t know. I haven’t read it. But my argument does not lie with what is within the pages of Grendel. My argument is for personal choice.

If the English department required the reading and dissection of Grendel to graduate, I would agree with these two parents. This book is most likely not appropriate for all teenagers, not even all adults for that matter, and a different novel would be better suited for a general audience. But this is not required reading. This is not even a required class. This is an optional, advanced, college prep class that is designed to promote the more critical thinking that will be required as they move into college courses.

I understand the concern of these parents and I whole-heartedly commend them for staying abreast of what and how their children are learning. It was wonderful to see such parental involvement in the education of our children at the school board meeting – our community is very lucky. But as I listened to both the mother and the father make their case, even in light of better permission slips and optional reading for those families that don’t feel comfortable with Grendel (and a community suggestion of moving it to the senior class curriculum), it became apparent that this had become more about getting their way than making our schools better for all students. They were determined to stand their ground and stamp their feet through meetings with teachers and department heads and principals and superintendents and three school board meetings until the curriculum of our school district was in direct line with their ideals. They were not looking for compromise; they were looking to guide all of us with their own personal moral compass.

I know that whether or not we include this book in our high school curriculum is really inconsequential, but who decides whether or not it will be there is not. Why not let the parents speak in a more democratic fashion? Hand out the permission slips and if a large majority are opting out of reading Grendel then the department can review the reasons for this selection and perhaps choose another title. But if we allow our communities to be governed only by the strictest of moral code and the most limited of ideals of any one group then we are compromising much more than the education of our children. We are compromising the freedoms that allow us to reach, ask, ponder and explore any topic of our choosing.

I admire these parents for standing up for what they believe in, it takes a great amount of courage to do so, but there is a difference between refusing to personally cross a line in the sand and making sure no one else does either. They have the right, and now the option, to have their children read books they are comfortable with. Shouldn’t I be allowed the same? My school board thinks so.

Yes We Can!

2008-11-05T13:56:00.000-08:00

I sit here this morning blurry-eyed and sleep deprived, but with a smile that just won’t stop. I keep returning to CNN for confirmation that it really happened. Barack Obama has won the presidency and we have elected our first African-American president! It is somewhat surreal that I am part of, and have participated in, such a monumental step forward in American history and that I will be able to personally relay to my grandchildren what it felt like to be a part of this moment.

And between the hoots and hollers and the Eskimo Pie eating last night at the Election party, actually many times during this campaign, I thought about explaining to Adam the significance of this country electing a man of color to be our President. Two things have stopped me. One, Obama’s campaign has never been about race and I felt it unfair for me to make it so. But more importantly, Adam has never once mentioned a difference between Obama’s skin color and his own. Could he distinguish it if asked? Of course. Just like as a child I could have distinguished a difference between myself and a black person beside me on the bus or standing in front me at the same drinking fountain, but it would have never occurred to me that there was a time when they weren’t allowed to be there. Adam will learn about the history of this country in his own time and I will be happy to share any knowledge and perspective I can, but I believe the strides our country is making can be honored just as much by leaving intact the innocence to our differences as it can be by acknowledging and celebrating this huge step towards a more perfect union. And I hope that when my children learn about the barriers of inequality that were broken last night by the people of this country that overlooked the color of a man’s skin to choose hope and inclusion over fear and division, that their amazement won’t be in that an African-American would actually, finally, be elected as President of this nation, but amazement that there ever was a time when they wouldn’t.

But even as we celebrated this milestone, Obama was sure to remind us in his acceptance speech that this election is only the first of many battles that lie ahead. “This victory alone is not the change we seek. It is only the chance for us to make that change. . . . . So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility, where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves but each other."

I hear this call to duty and am ready, willing and able to do my part. So as my favorite fictional president, Josiah Bartlet, would say, “What’s next?”

Party At My House!

2008-11-04T15:07:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow we will have a new president, but tonight, tonight we celebrate democracy Suburban Reality style! A few friends and family are gathering at our place to watch the election results tediously roll in. To break up the monotony of the cable news pundits I have some riveting Presidential trivia at the ready and of course food! Behold my election night menu honoring each of the four candidates. I'm so clever I can barely stand myself!

Happy Election Night Everyone!

God Bless Democracy!

October Activities. . . Rolled Into One Big Post

2008-11-01T20:44:00.001-07:00

You know what I love about Halloween? It has all the fun of Christmas without all the stress and guilt. And considering both the involvement and the turn out for our "Harvest Moon Party" at work there are a lot of other people that feel the same way. Harvest Moon Party? Yeah, we can't officially call it Halloween at work. Although when HR reminded us of this technicality I responded by telling her that I was Wiccan and I didn't appreciate not being able to accurately refer to my high holy day. The way her face contorted in a politically correct effort to hide her dismay was priceless. I can't wait to see her confusion when I start lighting my Menorah for Hanukkah. But I digress.

What started as a simple Pumpkin Carving contest and Eerie Edible Bake-off to raise the morale in the office ended up as an all-out decorating competition between departments complete with spiderwebs and hanging banshees, jars of "brains" and mechanical lawn ornaments, a fog machine and a treasure hunt for the kids. I even won best costume for my pirate garb! The mess we'll need to clean up on Monday morning is completely worth the morale boost because seeing your co-worker in drag does way more for productivity than any sales kick-off ever could.

But the festivities didn't start - or end- there. Last weekend all my family gathered at our house for our annual trip to the pumpkin patch at Lee's Farm. This was our fourth visit to the farm but the first time with our new cousins! What I love about Lee's Farm is that it has all the basic pumpkin patch activities without the lines of Disneyland. We pet the goats and ride the ponies, take a trip through the two-minute hay maze complete with a black plastic culvert slide and then head for the barn to chow on some donuts. Oooohhhh, the donuts. Still warm and dusted with sugar, these apple-cider donuts absolutely melt in your mouth. They are so worth paying $7.00 for a pumpkin.

But of course the main attraction of Halloween is the gathering and gorging of sugary treats. And something mysterious happened while we were out trick-or-treating last night. Maybe it was a full moon or maybe she felt a new sense of bravado behind that clown make-up, but Jamie was not her usual clingy, don't-look-at-me, curl-up-like-a-ball-in-front-of-strangers self last night. She took the lead ringing door bells, remembering her thank-you's and forging her way through groups of strangers up porch steps. It was the spookiest thing of the night. Well, that and the kid dressed up as the Burger King king. That guy creeps me out in a completely wonderful way.

Jamie also took the lead on the gorging of candy. The rule in our house is all the candy you want to eat on Halloween night. With Adam, this has always been more of a suggestion than a challenge. After three or four pieces he was done and on to something else. Jamie took candy eating to a whole new level. After at least ten pieces in as many minutes thoughts of mid-night chocolate peanut butter barf started dancing in my head and we had to call a halt to the gluttony. And for the next half hour we laughed as she bounced around the living room like a raving midget clown on some really good shit. God, how I love Halloween!

The Power Of Democracy. . . and MS Paint

2008-10-28T20:31:00.000-07:00

A year of watching debates and obsessing over polls and making calls and spreading the word. The power of democracy all comes down to a tiny little oval on a piece of paper. . . . .

And because I'm really not that mature, it was all I could do not to scribble out the names of John McCain and Sarah Palin in an extremely childish fashion. But alas, the temporary joy of vandalizing their names was just not worth invalidating my ballot and my vote.

So I made a copy.

Ah, that feels better.

Barack The Vote - With A Song

2008-10-25T07:34:00.000-07:00

I don't know if you guys enjoy the political turn this blog has made lately, but this all started as a place for me to put down my thoughts and joys and of course frustrations of my life and right now politics is what is dominating my thoughts and frustrations - and joys. And to the chagrin of my husband, most of my TV viewing. "Seriously? More of this GD election crap?" Well just hold on to your horses there mister you only have ten days left and then I'll be silently basking in the glory of an intelligent president (knocking on any and all wood possible).

But for the time being I have this, sent to me from a reader who I hold dear to my heart as a fellow Obama voter working the campaign grassroots style by sending along many a funny clip that keep the rest us from pulling our hair out over the insanity that has become the Republican campaign. This is her latest find from YouTube. Really funny! Enjoy.

And this is their newest. A pro-Obama jingle to the tune of the 80's hit, Bust A Move. Hillarious, and catchy!

Pop Goes The Weasel

2008-10-22T20:30:00.000-07:00

Tonight as I was washing dishes I suddenly noticed that Jamie was not at my feet badgering me to "help" with the dishes. Things were a little too quiet. . . . .

"Jamie, where are you?"

"You talkin' do meee?", she screeched popping up from under the kitchen table with this face:

"Yes, I'm talking to you. What are you doing down there?"

"Pooping".

"Of course you are. What else are you doing down there?"

"Nuding."

"Your face says otherwise. I hope."

What's Wrong With This Picture?

2008-10-22T16:05:00.000-07:00

That's right, those look like donkeys to me! And what is that word up there on her shoulder? Oh my, it seems even Sarah Palin secretly wants to vote for Obama. Or maybe this is just what she would call "reaching across the aisle". Either way she better hold onto that scarf. She's going to need it to dry her "Real-American" tears come November 5th.

Learning Curve

2008-10-20T14:02:00.000-07:00

I don’t know why I have such a hard time with this, but I never remember my re-usable cloth grocery bags until I’m standing in line to pay for my groceries. (Any tips on helping me remember are gladly accepted.) And this again was the case as Jamie and I stood in line at our local Albertson’s yesterday afternoon. So, in my attempt to be a good global citizen I requested paper as my best second choice over plastic (our disposal company doesn’t recycle plastic bags) and my checker was happy to comply. The next few minutes included my flirting with Jamie sitting in the cart behind the checker and the checker’s incessant, one-sided conversation about the great deal her daughter got on diapers at a competing store. Mmm. Uh-huh. Oh yes. Of course. Uh-huh. So I didn’t notice until I was walking back to my car that she had bagged the first sack of groceries in paper and then proceeded to bag the rest in plastic. Not only were they in plastic, but three of my items (sliced swiss cheese, Swiffer mop pads and eggs) were in their own, individual plastic bags. Was I supposed to specify paper for each bag of groceries? Or that I would like more than one item to be placed in each bag?

I’m quite aware how this story makes me sound – Something akin the to the “uppities” that would come into Abby’s Pizza where I worked in Roseburg for their $1.25 glass of box wine and swap stories in positively horrific tones about how last weekend they cut loose and drank wine out of a beer glass! Oh, the impropriety of such a crime! She actually had the audacity to use PLASTIC for her groceries! Ah-gad! Can you imagine being so grotesque? But I’m trying to be aware. I’m trying to do my best as an individual and using non-biodegradable plastic bags for each one of my grocery items seems a pretty obvious thing to avoid. I say, as I jot down a note to pick up more non-biodegradable mop pads.

We’re all still learning.

My Favorite Time Of Year

2008-10-15T13:16:00.000-07:00

I love this time of year. The crisp weather, the changing leaves and for most of the month, blue skies that beat any summer day hands down. I found this video that reflects all the things I love about October. Turn it up to hear one of my favorite songs in the background.

Happy Autumn!

Mommy Meltdown

2008-10-11T19:59:00.000-07:00

Today has been one of those days. One of those days where you cannot take one more grimy toddler hand streaked across your shirt or one more sassy comment or even so much as another simple question like, "Why?" "Why do I have to eat my dinner?", "Why do I have to get my diaper changed?", "Why can't I stand in front of the TV?" "Why can't I eat my boogers?" Why? WHY? WHY? Because, BECAUSE, BECAUSE! Because I effing said so, that's why!!!

I don't want to hear one more whiny word. I don't want even one more single, solitary request to be made of me. There will be no more eating tonight, no more stories and I swear to all that is holy if you get out of bed one more time I will staple your GD diaper to the sheets. I want it to be silent, I want to be left alone and I do not want one more finger to be laid upon me. That means you too, Damonn.

I have been bonked in the head, had my lip split and my fingers stepped on. I have prepared and cleaned and laundered and soothed and disciplined and entertained to the brink of insanity. I don't care if the dog looked at you. I don't care if your sister has one more Goldfish cracker than you do. In fact, at this moment it would take all the gumption I could muster to care if one of you happened to be bleeding. And also - Chutes & Ladders is a stupid, stupid game of perpetual parental torture. AaarrrgggHHH!!

Where is the GD wine? And cookies.

Did You Hear The News?

2008-10-09T15:22:00.000-07:00

President Bush has solved all our economic woes. He took a course in Photoshop and has started to print new money - the Zero dollar bill. Let's party like its 1929!

Vote No For Palin

2008-10-08T16:52:00.000-07:00

I believe in freedom of speech. It is what allows me to post my thoughts and views on this blog without censorship from the government. I believe in allowing people their own opinions and the opportunity to voice them. Without the opportunity to hear these opinions we miss out on a great depth of perspective, insight and knowledge that comes only from listening to what others have to say. That’s why I allow comments on each of my posts. I will defend these rights to the best of my ability. But there comes a time when as person’s statements become so distorted, so fraught with inaccuracy and hypocrisy, and the stakes become too high, to simply disagree. It becomes your duty as a citizen to make the whole story known.

For those of you that are planning to vote for McCain/Palin because you prefer his plan for the country over Obama’s, I disagree, but I can respect your difference of opinion. But if you are voting for the McCain/Palin ticket because you have been caught up in the folksy, Joe six-pack, tell-it-straight, reformer sensation that has become Sarah Palin, then there are some things you should know. And if you still choose to cast your vote in their direction after you read this, well, I definitely disagree, but at least I’ve done my duty to the American people.

As Gov. Palin does her best to paint Sen. Obama as an associate of domestic terrorism, let’s remember that it is the governor’s husband, Todd that was a card-carrying member of the Alaskan Independence Party until 2002. What is the AIP? It is a radical political party that strives for state autonomy up to and including secession from the union. You know, secession, like southern states did preceding the Civil War? Now, the Palin family didn’t just associate with people of the AIP. Todd Palin joined! And may I also point out that she is on video, as Governor of Alaska, welcoming AIP members to their convention and applauding their efforts (watch below). "Country First"? I don't think so.

When Governor Palin resurrects the divisive comments of Rev. Wright in an attempt to tie Senator Obama to an ideology he has repeatedly denounced, let’s take a listen to comments from Joe Vogler, the founder of AIP as he declares his hatred for the American government. (watch below) Don’t worry; the Palins aren’t currently associating with him. He was murdered in 1993 during a plastic explosives deal gone bad. Hmmm. . . . what would a radical secessionist want with plastic explosives?

When Governor Palin botches former secretary of state, Madeleine Albright’s quote that she lifted from a Starbucks coffee cup in an attempt to garner support for herself at a women's rally, let’s remember how supportive of women she was as Mayor of Wasilla when she made rape victims pay for their own forensic rape kits. And what did she do for them as Governor of a state with the highest rate of sexual assault? She passed a law making it illegal to buy or sell Quentin Tarantino's "rapist" action figure. I'm not even kidding.

When she talks of fiscal responsibility and lowering taxes let’s not forget that she raised the sales tax in Wasilla. Not for schools. Not for forensic rape kits. For a sports complex. A sports complex that was built on land not yet owned outright by the city and after years of court proceedings to get ownership, the city has been left millions of dollars in debt.

When she boasts of taking on Washington-style politics and having an open and transparent government let’s look at how quickly the unanimous, bi-partisan "Troopergate" investigation into her abuse of power as Governor has been shut down. In fact the Attorney General of Alaska – appointed by Palin – was advising government employees to ignore subpoenas to testify in the investigation - at least until Alaska Superior Court told him otherwise. Is this not “Washington-style cronyism” at its best?

And when Sarah Palin reminds us again and again of how she said “no thanks” to that “Bridge to Nowhere” let us remember that she was for it during her run for governor, but changed her mind by the time she got there and the earmark was the laughing stock of the nation and no longer politically advantageous .

When Governor Palin claims to live by Christian principles, she is apparently not referring to Jesus’ request of doing for the least of our brothers; otherwise she would not be ignoring the Native Alaskans in the state’s rural bush region where people live without basic necessities like power, water, schools and police. Where children drown while playing on community sewer barrels because there are no parks – or indoor plumbing. Where there is no working fire truck to put out a fire at the only school. Where there are no police to investigate sexual assaults – or charge people for forensic rape kits.

When she tells that cute story with the great punch line about putting the Governor’s jet on Ebay, it is important to remember that it didn’t actually sell. It was sold later - at a loss.

When she took credit during the vice-presidential debate for divesting state funds out of companies aiding genocide in Darfur, she didn’t mention that it wasn’t her idea. Or that she ignored the request from her representatives for over a year. But bless her socially conscious heart for thinking globally.

When she touts her heritage and experience as a great hunter in Alaska she forgets to elaborate that her idea of hunting includes shooting indigenous wolves from a helicopter.

And last but most certainly not least, when she speaks of foreign policy let’s remember she simply has no idea whatsoever what she is talking about.

This post is not about helping Obama win the White House; he’s doing pretty well with that on his own. This is about protecting our government, our country – our citizens, from the inexperience, hypocrisy and often, out-right lies of Governor Palin. It is about keeping someone pretending to represent the women of America, pretending to support the little guy, and pretending to be a heart-felt patriot out of the White House and out of my government.

Saturday at a rally in Florida Governor Palin declared, “the heels are on, the gloves are off”. Well so be it, lady. But your biggest fight will not be with the Obama campaign. It will be with the informed citizens of this country that are no longer willing to sit back and allow self-serving, narrow-minded, lying nit-wits represent us and our country. We want intelligence. We want compassion. We want leadership. We don’t want you.

I Can't Believe I Just Said That

2008-10-08T11:27:00.000-07:00

We've started a new rule in our house. When you are done with dinner you take your plate to the kitchen, then grab a Clorox wipe and wipe down your chair and area at the table. It has been working wonderfully - clean table, engaged kids, family teamwork. Until last night when I was forced to utter this sentence:

"If you guys keep fighting you will both go to a time out! There are plenty of things for both of you to clean!"

Maybe its working a little too well. Sigh.

Older Brothers! Sigh.

2008-10-06T09:58:00.000-07:00

After hours of listening to Jamie sing Old MacDonald on auto-repeat usually alternating between a cow and a pig, Adam decided to join in and add his own flair. . . .

Old MacDonald had a farm. EIEIO! And on his farm he had - DIARRHEA! EIEIOOOOWWWW! (both of them laughing hysterically)

Jamie (suddenly very serious and confused): Wat di-REEah?

Leave it to an older brother to take an innocent toddler song and interject Kindergarten potty talk. Boys!

Knit One Save One

2008-10-04T13:36:00.000-07:00

I don't remember how I got there, but the other day I came across an advertisement for the Knit One Save One campaign sponsored by Save The Children. Knit One Save One is a grass-roots operation collecting hand-knitted or crocheted hats from all over the U.S. for babies in developing countries. It is part of the larger Survive to 5 campaign that is working to raise awareness of preventable newborn deaths and providing basic health measures to help children survive past their fifth birthday.

Every year, more than 9 million children in the developing world die before they reach the age of 5. That means about 25,000 children under 5 are dying every day! Many of these deaths are from preventable or treatable illnesses like pneumonia, diarrhea, malaria, measles and complications related to childbirth. Nearly four million of these deaths occur to newborns – babies less than one month old. A critical element in the solution is the availability of a local community health worker. Save the Children trains community health workers to deliver life-saving care to women and children in remote areas and provides Better Beginnings for Babies Kits to expectant mothers. These kits contain items to promote better hygiene at delivery and promote proper care of newborns. And this is where Knit One Save One project comes into play. Each Better Beginnings for Babies Kit includes a knitted hat that helps keep a baby warm in those first critical hours and days after birth.

Isn't it amazing that something so simple can help save a life? That's why I decided to get busy. I haven't a clue how to knit, but I did learn to crochet as a little girl. So even though I hadn't picked up a crochet hook in over twenty years, I gave it a shot. It took me a few tries and a refresher course of directions downloaded from the internet, but low and behold - a hat!

It may not be the best looking thing and it is certainly filled with it's share of imperfect stitches, but is also filled with the love and good wishes of one mother to another.

So I'm asking you to join the cause. If you already know how to knit or crochet, fantastic! You'll be able to whip one of these up in a couple of hours. If not, these simple crocheting stitches are super easy to learn - believe me - and you'll have a hat finished in a few evenings. Give it a try. Even if you only make one, even if it isn't pretty, you're still making a difference. Like Mother Teresa always liked to say, “It is not the magnitude of our actions but the amount of love that is put into them that matters.”

Click HERE for some basic crocheting instructions.

Click HERE for more info on the Knit One Save One campaign.

If you don't have the time or ability to knit a hat click HERE to donate a Better Beginnings for Babies Kit. It's only $10!

ROCK THE VOTE!

2008-10-02T07:00:00.000-07:00

Rules vary by state but in Oregon, you must be registered by October 14th to vote (for Barack Obama) in the general election on November 4th. So if you aren't yet registered it's time to get on it, people! It's really, really easy. In fact, in Oregon your lazy ass doesn't even have to leave the house - you can register online and we vote (for Barack Obama) by mail! (Click HERE for info if you don't live in Oregon) So even you recluses out there wearing kleenex boxes on your feet and living vicariously through online episodes of The Girls Next Door can make your voices heard without actually talking to a single, real-live person. It doesn't get easier than this. C'mon guys let's make our self-serving, over-indulgent, lazy, American asses, patriotic, self-serving, over-indulgent, lazy American asses for once in our lives!

(Ba)ROCK THE VOTE!

I am voting for Barack Obama and I approve this message.

Please Sir, May I Have Some More?

2008-10-01T15:41:00.000-07:00

Adam is apparently auditioning for the lead role in Oliver Twist.

Damonn and I have today off so this morning he took Adam to school rather than dropping him off at daycare before work. As they were walking to class, one of the secretaries flagged Damonn’s attention and asked if we we’re interested in signing Adam up to have breakfast in the mornings before school. She went on to explain that she was asking only because Adam had come to her last week saying that he was hungry and asking to eat breakfast and that she was concerned that he might not be getting it at home.

Damonn thanked her for her concern and then explained to this sweet, unsuspecting secretary, that Adam eats, at a minimum, one breakfast at daycare and on most days another beforehand at home and that most likely it was the idea of going through that cafeteria line that spurred his question rather than actual hunger. We also explained to Adam that two breakfasts before 8:00am is entirely sufficient and that he need not be begging for food at school no matter how cool it seems to eat with “the big kids”.

Although it is beyond embarrassing to have someone think you’re not feeding your kid, it makes me proud and rest more assured that Adam is not afraid to ask for something he needs or wants when we’re not around. As for myself at that age, being ever afraid of causing trouble, making a scene, or simply doing something generally wrong, I would have sat there and died of starvation before asking for food not offered to me and most likely balked at taking it if it was. It’s just nice to know we’re raising a confident, secure kid – with an apparently insatiable appetite.

Filling In Each Other's Paint-By-Numbers

2008-09-30T14:53:00.000-07:00

Tonight Damonn and I are getting a little adult time out on the town and as an early anniversary gift to each other, we are heading downtown to the Schnitz to take in a Jackson Browne concert. We both love his music and although Damonn has been to a couple of concerts of his before, this is the first time going together. And there is no better place to see an artist than the Schnitz. It is small, intimate and has great acoustics. It really is the next best thing to having a private concert.

I’ve embedded this video of his song, The Pretender (from his 1976 album of the same name). It is one of our favorites and to Damonn and me this has become kind of a theme song of life. Managing hopes, dreams and the daily grind and doing it all with a person you love.

Damonn – Thank you for being the person who fills in the colors of my paint-by-number. There is no other person I’d want painting this family portrait with me more than you. Happy 9th anniversary, I love you!

Quotable Quotes

2008-09-27T09:21:00.000-07:00

From this week:

Pirates aren't bad, they're just like regular people. Except for their skin's peeled off. - Adam

Dat's dingerous! My poop is dingerous! Don touch it! - Jamie

Mom, what do our skidney's do again? - Adam

Drink 'Er Down, Nee-Ner-Nee

2008-09-26T16:02:00.000-07:00

Okay everyone, it's been a long week. What with the economy on the brink of disaster, WaMu going tits up as their newly-appointed President floats away on a $18 million parachute, Sarah Palin falling face first in her own pile of BS while talking to Katie Couric and McCain suspending his campaign and ditching David Letterman so he could rush to Washington and play the Greatest American Hero only to end up sitting there looking like a wannabe presidential bobble-head doll. And let's not forget that the Mississippi White Knights have decided to join the crowd at the first Presidential debate tonight. Which makes me feel like someone just punched me in the stomach. What must Michelle Obama be feeling?

I don't know about you, but I could use a drink. Many. So what better time to play the Presidential Debate Drinking Game! The rules are simple: You and at least one opponent pick a different word (one that is certain to be heard - but not too often) and everytime you hear the word spoken during the debates you must take a shot. How about, "My Friends, "Iran", "Bush", "Nuclear", "Maverick", "Allies". Just don't make it the word, "Change" or you'll be drunk before the first round of questioning ends. Then again, if we all pass out we already know who won. At least according to him.

Thanks But No Thanks. . .

2008-09-23T14:25:00.000-07:00

Get your shovels ready, people. I'm spoutin' off.

I know my writing ability sometimes limits me to put to paper what is so fervently and passionately swimming in my head, which is one reason I have restrained myself from writing about this topic thus far. I wanted to be able to portray my feelings on Sarah Palin accurately. This morning I came across this article in Newsweek by Sam Harris that does just that.

"The next administration must immediately confront issues like nuclear proliferation, ongoing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan (and covert wars elsewhere), global climate change, a convulsing economy, Russian belligerence, the rise of China, emerging epidemics, Islamism on a hundred fronts, a defunct United Nations, the deterioration of American schools, failures of energy, infrastructure and Internet security … the list is long, and Sarah Palin does not seem competent even to rank these items in order of importance, much less address any one of them."

What I wrote below started as a simple introduction to the article in Newsweek, but as my family can attest, when I start spewing about something I feel so passionately about, I sometimes find it hard to stop. Hey, I warned you to get a shovel.

Nothing in this race for the White House scares me more than the thought of Sarah Palin sitting to the right hand of John McCain. But other than the brief reference to her unique choice in baby names, I have held my tongue in regards to my opinion of her. Until now.

I feel that I have given her a fair chance. I listened to her acceptance speech at the RNC and did my best to keep in mind that it was her job as potential VP to recite a speech written to blast Obama and his campaign with such tired and obvious cliches. And that her shrill, but god-given voice should not be held against her, although the snarky tone she tends to use should be well within her control. I have researched her stand on policy and even agree on some points. And in the beginning I gave her the benefit of the doubt concerning “Troopergate” and the investigation into her abuse of power. Hell, I can’t even say I wouldn’t be tempted to use the same influence to play havoc with the life of someone hurting my sister. But the way that the McCain campaign has sealed up that investigation is just plain scary. I have read articles and blogs on both sides of this surprising VP pick doing my best to understand who Sarah Palin is, and how and where she plans to lead our country, each time reserving judgment as to what I would find. What I have found is amusing at best and at worst, disturbing.

In opinions against her I have read of limited education, potential censorship, mounds of debt left behind from her time as mayor of Wasilla, extreme pro-life attitudes and the all too familiar, “with me or against me” attitude that our country and the world has had to endure for the past eight years under President Bush. The many pro-Palin websites that have popped up over the last month are just as disturbing to me. Many don’t so much talk about any positive achievements of her career, but boast of stands against global warming and wildlife preservation and of pushes for creationism in schools that leave me shivering. But what is most bewildering is how they put her on a pedestal for being an every-day woman, or as www.hockeymomsformccain-palin.com proudly announces as part of their homepage header, “Sarah Palin shares our early-rising, butt-freezing, glass-pounding commitment to our children and communities”. It’s as if she is running for president of the PTA and they are ecstatic they have found someone that understands the chaos of the afternoon pick-up in the school parking lot. DO YOU PEOPLE NOT GET IT? WE ARE TALKING ABOUT THE CHAOS OF THE WORLD!

They love her because she is just like them. Just like their gutsy neighbor who took on town hall. Just like their mother who raised five kids. Just like their sister who worked her way through college little by little. These are all people to be admired, but not one of them is qualified to be Vice President of the United States. And no, I haven’t forgotten about her time as Governor of Alaska. But that is what’s so scary about much of the demographic following her. They aren’t even spouting such credentials. They are rejoicing in her commonalities to their mediocrity! I don’t want someone like me running the country. I barely manage to pull together a birthday party and still can’t pronounce the name of Iran’s President (Mahmoud Ahmadinejad). I want someone that excelled in school, possibly even attended, I don’t know. . . . . HARVARD? Someone that has traveled to, even lived in, other parts of the world, is familiar with and respects more than one religion, that is willing to talk first and shoot later and is ready to acknowledge responsibility for how we are affecting the Earth.

I don’t believe Sarah Palin is a bad person. In fact, in some ways I feel sorry for her. I believe she is a pawn to garner the votes McCain was lacking and that she had no idea what she was getting into when she jumped down the rabbit hole of Rovian-Republican politics. I don’t even have much to go on that she is a particularly bad Governor. She seems qualified for that position. But there is a huge jump between Governor of a state of 600,000 people and being second chair on the world stage. A jump I don’t believe Sarah Palin and her limited world experience is qualified to make.

Please read the entire Newsweek article.

Pictures of anti-Palin rally in Anchorge courtesy www.mudflats.com.

Wanderlust

2008-09-21T08:00:00.000-07:00

After having a real, adult, no-kid vacation for the first time in over five years, the travel bug has me itching for more. So what kind of getaway destinations are on my list for the next five years?

Austin/San Antonio, TX
New York City, NY
Nashville/Memphis, TN
Alaska (Cruise?)
Caribbean
The Kentucky Derby

Where would you like to go?

I Don't Think This Is The Image He Was Going For. . .

2008-09-20T09:00:00.000-07:00

Whenever Damonn goes out of town for business, I treat the kids to dinner at McDonald's. They get Happy Meals and play on the indoor play structure and I don't have to make dinner. Win-Win. Last night while waiting in line for our food Adam was browsing movies in the Red Box movie dispenser when he spied a well-known celebrity. . . . .

"Hey Mommy, it's Barack Obama!"

Classic Rewind

2008-09-19T08:00:00.000-07:00

Today marks the anniversary of Tales of Suburban Reality. Two years and twelve readers later, I'm on track to beat my personal best of 15 posts in a month. Look out, Dooce!

In case you're one of my newbies, here's a few of the oldie but goodies that got this blog started. Enjoy!

Stop! Just Stop!

Lyrical Genius

All Drains Lead To The Ocean

Passing On The Knowledge. . .

2008-09-18T13:36:00.000-07:00

So Adam, what kinda fun things did you do in Kindergarten today?

We went to music class!

Oh, wow! That sounds like a lot of fun. What did you do in music class?

We learned what rhythm is.

That's so cool. Do you think you can teach Daddy?

aka Falter Locust Palin

2008-09-17T14:42:00.000-07:00

As many of us following the political circus have noticed, Sarah Palin is keen on unique names. Her children's names are as follows: Track, Bristol, Willow, Piper and Trig. Most of them coming from places or things she frequented at the time. Yes, the word is she was very much into running when her first was born. Sigh.

So what would you have been named if you were to have been born into the Palin clan? Click HERE to find out. C'mon, I know you want to know.

Here is my family:

Me - Falter Locust Palin

Damonn - Meat Notgay Palin

Adam - Ammo Canal Palin

Jamie - Stockyard Mudslide Palin

Speaking of Knotting A Noose

2008-09-16T20:17:00.000-07:00

The other day while waiting in the doctor's office for the infamous "kindergarten shots" to arrive, Adam was looking through a little tablet of games our pediatrician gave him as a prize for being such a good patient.

"Why does this man have a sad face?" he asked, holding up this picture.

"Ummm. . . uh. . . because he doesn't feel good."

Which got me thinking. . . . . who in the world thought this was a good idea? "Yeah, I don't know, little Billie is having such a time remembering if i goes before e maybe I could come up with a game for him to practice his spelling. Oh, I know, I'll have him guess the letters of the words and each time he misses we'll add a body part to this here gallow drawing until he's spelled the word or has a whole dead body hanging up there. Oh, this will be such fun. We could even teach it in all the schools across the country so everyone can practice spelling by drawing dismembered body parts. It'll be a sensation!

Why didn't we think this was creepy when we were kids?

Because We Could All Use A Laugh Today. . .

2008-09-15T14:10:00.000-07:00

With the way this has spread like wildfire across the internet since Saturday night, you've probably already had a chance to see it, but just in case you've been too busy knotting your own noose while watching your 401k accounts go down the drain, I'll post it here. Because nobody does politics and humor better than SNL and this one is spot on.

Back In Captivity

2008-09-11T20:26:00.000-07:00

Well, for those of you that don't know already, I am back from DC. And every night I've been meaning to write, but between loads of laundry, sorting through my pictures and the first cold of the season that Jamie has already brought home, there has been some delay.

The trip was wonderful and just the break from everyday life that I was needing. I toured all the monuments on Thursday battling 95 degree heat and extremely high humidity. I now know what it would be like to walk around in those big puffy clouds in the sky. Utterly suffocating. And being the stupid sun-deprived Oregonian I am, I forgot my sunscreen. Yeah. One side of my neck looks like a big, peeling hickey.

But seeing the monuments was amazing. The somber stare of Abraham Lincoln. The views from the top of the Washington Monument. The endless list of names etched on the Vietnam Memorial wall. More than once I found myself suddenly tearing. Especially at The Wall -as the Vietnam Memorial is simply referred to. As I stood mesmerized by the sea of one-inch names etched on a wall that towered over my head and over 200ft to each side of me, I overheard a tour guide explaining that this one row in front of us, a full three-by-ten foot section of granite held the names of soldiers killed in just one four-month period. Simply unimaginable.

By Saturday, the weather had changed completely. Well, almost. The humidity was still hanging around but Tropical Storm Hanna decide to drop by as well. You would think being a native Oregonian I would know about rain. I know not of rain like this. There is no weapon against such a downpour. Not umbrella, not poncho, perhaps not even shelter. Thank goodness I had checked the weather before I left and planned to be indoors at museums for the entire day. First stop - National Archives.

Most of the museums in DC don't open until 10am so I was there waiting when they opened huddled under a small vestibule with a handful of other brave hearts. When the doors opened we all scattered to different sections of the museum, myself heading straight to the rotunda that houses our country's most coveted documents. And because of my eagerness, except for the guards, I actually had the room to myself. I stood there for just a moment surrounded by grand paintings of our Founding Fathers and overcome by the same grandeur and deafening silence you find in an empty church. Yes, a church. A church of brilliance and truth and honor and determination and sacrifice. The moment took my breath away. And then, there in front of me it stood: The Declaration of Independence. The Declaration of Independence. Faded, yet those unequivocal words and many of the signatures still legible and declarative. And to it's right, one of the most brilliant, forward-thinking and withstanding documents ever created: The Constitution of the United States of America. I know, I know I'm on history geek overload. Tell me something my husband hasn't.

The rest of the day was spent dashing from building to cab to building, submerging my feet each time in the five or so inches of water that was running down the streets. After a quick visit to the Air & Space museum including a rather disturbing IMAX film on black holes, I was ready to call it a day and find some dry socks.

I'd love to go back again someday, hopefully with the kids in tow. Especially Adam, my little pint-sized politico. And then he can see for himself, that "big house that's white".

I'm Sorry I Asked

2008-09-08T14:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday at Costco. . . .

Damonn: Jamie, what are you eating?

Jamie: My boogers.

Let Freedom Ring

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

Well, I'm off to Washington, D.C. this morning. And honestly, I think it takes more work to leave the kids behind than it does to bring them along. Several days of planning and four pages of notes later, I think my sister will have the information she needs to stave off any attempts of mutiny.

As for posting while I'm gone, unfortunately, my cell phone cannot be set up for mobile blogging, but I can, and will be sending in Twitters through out the trip. So keep your eye to the right of the screen to see what I'm doing now in our nation's great capitol. I'll have pictures and more details when I return, but for now, I'm free! I'm free! I'M FREE!

5 Years Minus 4 Days =

2008-09-02T20:05:00.000-07:00

This morning Adam stood tall with all the other bright and shiny 5-year old faces for Kindergarten orientation. This moment was a culmination of a six month battle with the school district to allow him to start this year rather than next. Actually, if you want to get technical, this all started 4 years and 362 days ago when Adam decided to make his entrance into the world nine days past his due date putting him four days past the school district’s deadline for kindergarten acceptance. And as Damonn and I have said many times over the last few months, if we had known the hassle that awaited us over a mere four days we would have pushed for the induction of labor a week earlier. Then we would have had the option of telling Ms. Principle to blow it out her ass rather than having to wait politely to talk to her while she took phone calls on the other side of her desk during our appointment. But such is life. Instead we had to endure her insulting insinuations of bad parenting because we did not want to hold Adam back a year as “most parents in this district prefer to do”. When we asked why parents make that choice she responded with, “Because they prefer that their children succeed”. Well la-di-effin-dah! And when I asked to see the curriculum of the kindergarten classes to see how it compared to what he was learning in pre-school she said that "it’s better for the parents to leave the ‘three R’s’ to the school and for parents to focus on the ‘three D’s’ – drugs, dating and discipline”. It was at this point that Damonn began to kick me under the table in a rather feeble attempt to squash the snide remarks he was sure were about to start rolling off my tongue. I heeded his warning and made it out the front doors before every thoughtful, revengeful, explicit retort that was rolling around in my head came spewing out of my mouth into a vulgar puddle at my feet.

And although the next few months were not as insulting, they were often times just as frustrating as each time we needed to make an appointment or get any information it took multiple calls to the district, to the school, to the secretaries, just to get a response. So long in fact that even though we started this process in February, they were not able, or willing, to schedule Adam to take the necessary admittance exam until June. Which meant that Adam was the only kid in his pre-school class left behind when all of his friends loaded the bus for Kindergarten Round-up in May. This was the night I thought about filling Ms. Principle’s mailbox with rice pudding. But decided on horse shit instead.

Finally that day in June came and I took yet another day off work and Adam and I met up with the district psychologist. He was to take a two-hour exam covering academics, psychology, reasoning and physical capabilities. And when the test started off by asking Adam to identify his colors – colors he’s known since he was 18mos old – I couldn’t help but groan at the $400 we were shelling out to prove that he was as smart and capable as someone four days older. Overall, Adam did very well on the exam. He tested extremely high on reading and above average on reasoning and writing. His only trouble came during the questions on math. He understands the logic that if you have five things and take two things away you are left with three things, but since his pre-school has not broached the subject of written equations he had no idea what “1+1=___” means. The psychologist tried to help, pointing to each part of the equation, “If you have one and you add another one to it what do you get?” “An Eleven!” Adam announced proudly.

And because of this inexperience in mathematics, Adam did not get the required 97% on the exam. (Since when is an A+ required for a passing grade?) But our moment of grace came when Ms. Principle retired and a much more reasonable, likeable and pleasant man became principle in July. After (one more) meeting with Adam and a review of his test he said that he thought Adam would do just fine in Kindergarten and that we could review his progress at the October conferences. Finally!

So after catching up on information about forms and vaccinations and school supplies that we missed out on during the May Kindergarten roundup, Adam was ready, willing and accepted for Kindergarten Orientation this morning. And as I watched him color and cut his teddy bear art project along with all his new- found classmates, I thought about the journey that brought us here, knowing that it was all worth it. But that he’s on his own getting into college.

You're Not As Stupid As You Look. . .

2008-09-01T10:07:00.000-07:00

As you may have gathered I am a frequent reader of CNN.com and of their political ticker. Not so much because I think they are the end-all-be-all of political reporting, but because it is an easy place to stop and gather the news on a daily basis. My morning newspaper if you will. I recently came across a commentary written by Ruben Navarrette, one of their regular contributers. I have read many of his articles. He seems to be an intelligent man and his commentaries have pushed me towards deeper thinking and research on several topics and even had me nodding my head in agreement on a few, but this one. . . . Well, I think he really missed his mark on this one. (Read the entire article HERE)

"Obama (in his acceptance speech) settled on a hybrid of left-right economic theory that sounded like a bundle of contradictions. Obama talked about "America's promise," the belief that "through hard work and sacrifice, each of us can pursue our individual dreams but still come together as one American family, to ensure that the next generation can pursue their dreams as well."

He explained it as "the idea that we are responsible for ourselves, but that we also rise and fall as one nation" and described it as blending "individual responsibility and mutual responsibility." Simply put: You have to do what you can for yourself, but that you also have to do for others.

There is the rub: If everyone were to adhere to the first part, there will be no need for the second. Besides, even if we buy the idea that, as Obama said, "I am my brother's keeper, I am my sister's keeper," there is still the question of whether government should do the keeping."

Mr. Navarrette, nothing irritates me more than when a person feigns stupidity to defend an argument. And that is exactly what you're doing. I find it impossible to believe - being that you attended graduate school - that you cannot understand the concept put forth by Senator Obama that there is, and that we need, a balance between personal, government and community responsibility. Yes, parents need to be responsible for making sure their children attend school and complete their homework. And yes, the government needs to supply adequate funding and a framework for a 21st century education. And yes, as citizens of a community we need to step up fill in the gaps between parental and government support by volunteering in the classrooms, on the soccer fields and as leaders of extracurricular activities. It needs to be a joint venture. A joint venture that goes beyond education and extends to areas of the environment and the economy and energy and disaster preparedness for threats from both mother nature and our enemies. Perhaps your time in David Gergen's classroom did not provide you the competency to understand the simple premise of teamwork. That's okay, Mr. Navarrette, because Senator Obama is a professor in his own right. And after Nov. 4th class will be in session.

Dreaming Of Our Golden Years. . . .

2008-08-31T12:26:00.000-07:00

Adam: So are we going to buy it?

Me: Not today.

Adam: Well, when are we going to buy it?

Damonn: When we're finished paying for your college.

All of us: Sigh.

Damonn and I WILL one day own of these little gems and tour the United States in comfort and compactness. Because in a Sprinter/Airstream conversion van not only can you cool a drink and heat a meal, but you can park it in any standard parking spot. An invaluable asset to two people who are challenged in the ability to parallel park. And this baby even gets 22mpg!

I Never Knew Larry King Wore Glasses. . . . .

2008-08-29T18:33:00.000-07:00

We were probably the last household on the block to still have an old, heavy CRT TV, but tonight we have stepped into the 21st century. That's right, we are now the proud owners of a 37" Toshiba HDTV. And because we are parents that believe in giving everything we can to our children, everything that is, except access to the best electronics, this new high definition beauty has been made to feel right at home at the foot of our own bed. It is sitting high atop the armoire so that we may bask in the glory of its light. And the clarity, oh the clarity. Even without HD Dish capabilities (hey, I said we stepped into the 21st century) it is amazing. But what can you expect when you're used to a TV that was around to display images of the first Gulf War.

Tattooed On My Brain Like a Misspelled Word

2008-08-27T20:57:00.000-07:00

Conversation while watching Larry King last night. . . .

Larry King: And when we come back, John Rich, half of the duo Big & Rich talking about the song he wrote for the McCain campaign.

(Goes to commercial playing one line of the new song)

Me: Did you hear that? That one line of song ended in “train”. You know what they’re going to do. They’re going rhyme it with McCain.

Damonn: Oh god, really?

Me: Of course they are. It’s going to be something about getting on the train with McCain.

Damonn: Ugh.

Larry King: We’re back now with John Rich who wrote this song for the McCain campaign. Here’s a glimpse. . . .

(The song plays complete with video of him singing, a neon American flag, hot girls holding McCain signs, and a diamond studded microphone stand): “Get on the train or get out of the way, we’re all just raisin’ McCain.”

Me: Oh sweet Jesus, it’s worse than I thought. It includes a bad pun.

Damonn: Why would they use something so lame?

Me: Because every country song in the last ten years includes a bad pun and the rednecks eat it up. And when they step into the voter’s booth they won’t know the facts behind one single issue but they’ll remember this damn song.

Damonn: Ugh.

Me: This is what its come down to. This is how Obama will lose. To a half-rate song probably written in five minutes on a cocktail napkin. Not to a difference in policy. Not to rhetoric. Not even to negative ads filled with lies. He’ll lose to this damn song you can’t get out of your freakin’ head!

I'm So Happy I'm Drooling!

2008-08-24T19:42:00.000-07:00

This single sentence from Adam pretty much sums up our trip to the lake. It came about as the four of us we're sitting on the floor for a wild game of Go Fish! when Jamie decided to suddenly roll around on top of all the cards shouting "Applesauce! Applesauce!" for no apparent reason until we were all laughing uncontrollably, at least one of us to the point of drooling. And this was before we broke out the game of Pass The Pigs. You ain't seen nothin' till someone hits a double leaning jowler!

And so it went for the four days we were at the lake. Silliness, laughing, swimming, fishing, sugar cereal and no real schedule. Well, that's not exactly true. We kept Jamie on her naps and both the kids were in bed by 8:00pm just like at home which I think was the real key to our successful vacation. 'Cause I don't care how many Mike's Hard Lemonade's are available, no one has fun with kids that melt into a weepy pile of Ritz snack crackers and snot at the mention of the word, "No".

One of the few things that we wanted to make sure and do while we were there was take the Wallowa Lake Tram up to the top of Mt. Howard. Damonn was not looking forward to this. It is a 15-minute ride rising 3700ft to a summit of 8200ft and he is not a big fan of heights. But he carried on like a trooper only noticeably gasping near the end of the ride as we crossed a ravine and the distance to the ground became much more staggering. There is actually a restaurant at the top but we only had time for a quick walk around the summit to feed the squirrels and do some more gasping at the in-cred-i-ble views. They say you can see Oregon, Washington and Idaho from up there, but it all looks the same from 8000ft. I really could have stayed up there all day just staring into the valley and watching the hawks glide on the air currents. It felt like standing at the top of the world being free from everything. . . . which was enhanced further by the fact that I exerted no physical energy getting there. But alas, some of the friends that shared the cabin with us were getting light headed from the altitude and the tram was about to make the last trip of the day so we climbed back into the little metal car and descended back down to the valley and the safety of solid ground.

We spent the rest of our time fishing on the lake, riding bumper boats, battling for air hockey bragging rights, playing Frisbee and eating. Not even the rain on the third day could hinder our spirits. (We are Oregonians, after all) We just pulled out the craft kits we brought along for just such an occasion and chowed on microwave smores. The only drawback to such a happy, relaxing vacation is the pressure to live up to it next year! Oh, to have such a worry.

One Man's Old Is Another Man's Vintage. . .

2008-08-24T19:28:00.000-07:00

Adam: Is that a Volkswagen Bus in front us of, Momma?

Me: No, that's just a regular van.

Adam: (as we get closer) Oh yeah, 'cause a Volkswagen Bus always has those old curtains in the windows.

Oh, How I Missed the Internet. . .

2008-08-21T21:04:00.001-07:00

We're back, exhausted but smiling. I planned to Twitter throughout the trip but there was no AT&T wireless coverage so I was stuck without the internet or a phone. How did I make it without checking the CNN Politcal Ticker?? Gasp! We had a great time but now comes the unpacking and the mountain of laundry. Details of the trip to come in the next few days. . . . .

See Ya Later Alligator. . . .

2008-08-17T07:47:00.001-07:00

We're leaving for vacation . . . . . finally. the bags are packed, the kids are loaded (almost) and after one last stop for coffee we're headed to Wallowa Lake in Eastern Oregon. Never been there but I've heard it's beautiful. Talk to ya next week!

Another Person I'd Like To Kick in the Teeth

2008-08-12T14:13:00.000-07:00

On the phone today with our pediatrician's office:

Me: I’m checking back because I called a couple of days ago to see if my son needed anymore shots before he starts Kindergarten this year and I haven’t heard back from anyone.

Woman: Mmmm. . . Let me check. Nope, he’s all up to date.

Me: Really? I thought at his check-up last year they said he would need two more shots before he starts school this year.

Woman: Yes, he’ll need two more at his 5-year check-up.

Me: So he does need two more shots before he starts school?

Woman: Yes. He will get them at his 5-year check up.

Me: Yes, but his birthday and his check-up aren’t until a week after school starts so can we come in early just to get the shots?

Woman: No, we can’t give them until he’s five.

Me: He’s five in like, two weeks.

Woman: We can’t give them to him until he’s five.

Me: But the school district requires that he have them before he starts so what should I do?

Woman: (Silence)

Me: You guys won’t give me the shots and the school won’t let him start without them so WHAT DO YOU SUGGEST I DO?

Woman: I’ll send the question back to the nurse, but I really don’t know how to help you.

I so don't need this shit right now.

Life. . . On Repeat

2008-08-10T15:00:00.000-07:00

Where did the lazy days of summer that I was just posting about float off to? I don't know, but the month of August revved it's engine and has taken off without me. I was going to write a little something about the current chaotic stress I'm feeling right now, but then remembered I already did. . . . . two years ago. Click HERE to read the original post and feel free to replace any of the "things to do" in that post with one of these:

Dental Visits. Vaccinations. School Supplies. Sprained Toes. Birthday Gifts. Vacation Plans. Computer Crashes. Insurance Benefits. Conference Calls. Shoe Shopping. Vet Bills.

Same bullshit, different day. Actually, same chaos, different bullshit.

Have a good weekend everyone!

Comments Please

2008-08-08T16:00:00.000-07:00

It has been brought to my attention by some readers of this site that they, and perhaps others, are not commenting as much as they'd like because they don't have a Blogger/Google account with which to log in. In the case that this might be true, I wanted to make sure that everyone is aware that they do not need an account to leave a comment.

After clicking on the word Comments at the end of any post, simply choose either the button for Name/URL and type in any name or web address you like, or choose Anonymous to remain completely incognito.

Because even though I may live to regret my request for more comments (not all comments will be nice comments), I would love to get your feedback on the topics of this site. So please, use your voice, man!

The Emerson Address

2008-08-07T19:22:00.000-07:00

The Rick Emerson Radio Program
(as mentioned in this Things I Love post)

6/6/6 brought you Horns Across the Hawthorne.

7/7/7 brought you Vanilla Ice, live on stage.

And now, 8/8/8 brings you the greatest event in the history of human evolution… (so says their website)

The Emerson Address.

On Friday, August 8th, 2008, at 2pm, we need every radio, every speaker, and every webstream in existence to be tuned to AM 970, and The Rick Emerson Show will broadcast a live, specially-prepared message to the entire city of Portland…and beyond.No matter where you are…no matter what it takes…at 2pm on Friday, August 8th, find every single radio you can…turn them up, and help us beam our message to every single person in the state…and the world.

One day…one message…and every radio on Earth.The Emerson Address…happening at 2pm on 8/8/8.

Be ready to listen!

I'm Blushing. . . .

2008-08-05T21:08:00.000-07:00

Someone referenced my Valentine's Day post at BlogHer.com. It's like when that cute boy says hello to you in the hall. . . . . then reads a poem from your diary in front of everyone.

See the article HERE.

Have You Ever Seen Cuter Metatarsals?

2008-08-04T13:06:00.000-07:00

Last night we found ourselves traveling down one of those unexpected detours of life. One minute the kids are playing joyfully in the water feature at the park and the next minute another mom is asking if the crying blonde girl is mine. Yes - the fact that she was not actually in my line of sight when the accident occured is something I would be asked to admit several times over the next few hours to every doctor, every nurse and someone with the odd title of "registrar". Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but they all seemed to be asking for the same details over and over. What time did this happen? What was she doing when this happened? Where were you when it happened? Have you ever felt like abusing your child before today? Okay, the last one wasn't actually asked, but I knew what they were getting at. I mean, I understand why they need to ask these questions and I love that there is a saftey net for children in trouble, but it doesn't help me to not imagine all of them meeting in the break room later to compare notes on my story. 3:30? She told me 3:00. Call the authorities!

Actually the ER staff was great. They were very gentle and pleasant with Jamie and didn't even seem to mind her absolute hysterics during the X-ray procedure. Of course the technician will be telling friends and family the story of the little blonde two-year old who, in the middle of her mother tying to coax (wrestle) her onto the bed for X-rays, pulled free, looked her mother straight in the eye and proceeded to slap the very person who brought her into this world across the face. Yep, that's one for the dinner parties.

Other than this blatant act of maternal humiliation, Jamie was in surprisingly good spirits - until you tried to get her to stand. At which point she would pull up her foot and start calling for help in the most heart-breaking manner. Something along the lines of a wounded lamb with a pink bow and curls. But after three hours of singing nursery rhymes, too much poking and prodding from the doctor and the results of the X-rays, she was diagnosed with a sprain rather than any broken bones. So they wrapped her up in an ace bandage, gave her a couple stickers and sent us on our way with the adorable x-ray you see above. Today, Jamie still won't stand, but is at home with her doting father who is more than happy to wait on her hand and - foot.

Oh, and for those of you that noticed the latest twitter. . . . The triage nursed didn't want to send us back out into the waiting room to wait for a room so she asked if we needed to have a TV in our room. I said no so she escorted us to the end of the hall, into a small room and then ever so casually said, "I'll just prop this door open with a chair so it doesn't lock you inside." I looked around and noticed that the blinds for the window were on the outside and all the equipment in the room had the ability to be locked behind a metal gate. "You're putting us in the psych ward?" "It's a safe room", she clarified. "A psych room", I countered. "No, a SAFE room", she said again with a smile, arranging the chair in the door. How is it she knows us so well?

Serendipity. . .

2008-08-03T13:57:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I find myself trying so hard to create family moments that the event becomes something no one really even wants to participate in. Dr. Seuss birthday parties, “special” picnics in the park and family art projects come to mind. Other times I find myself smack dab in the middle of an incredible family connection without the least bit of forethought. The energy so vibrant you’d almost expect to get a static shock from it.

And so it was last night. The kids were fresh from baths and snuggling into our bed for a little TV. I slipped Curios George, a movie we had just recently found again while cleaning out a closet, into the DVD player and just as I was about to hit play to start the actual movie, Adam yelled, “Stop! I want to hear all of this song.” I was surprised because as far I knew he had never heard this song before, but he was adamant about listening to it. Just then Damonn walked in the room and said, “Hey I remember this song.” And before I knew it our whole family was singing and dancing to the Curious George theme song, Jack Johnson’s, Upside Down.

I want to turn the whole thing upside down
I'll find the things they say just can't be found
I'll share this love I find with everyone
We'll sing and dance to Mother Nature's songs
I don't want this feeling to go away

As I watched my family dancing, each one a different dance, time slowed and I could feel the lyrics, the music and the moment being etched into my memory. Jamie’s golden curls bouncing in every direction around her head as she jumped and screeched in sheer delight. Adam fumbling to learn the words of a song he instantly loved draped in the hooded towel he’s had since birth. Damonn awkwardly moving his body to the offbeat of the music, dancing the way only he does. These are the moments you look forward to when you dream of having children, when you dream of making a family. And slowly, for some of us very slowly, we learn they can’t be created or planned. They will simply happen and you only have to be ready to live them.

Keeping Me Between The Lines. . . .

2008-08-02T14:10:00.000-07:00

A recent email exchange between me and Damonn:

Me: I think I'd like to get a couple of chickens to keep in our backyard.

Damonn: I feel like my life is full at this point without adding chickens to our backyard. Perhaps you should concentrate on Snowflake and Linus (our two bettas). Particularly since just last night the cleaning of two fish bowls was more responsiblity than you wanted to handle.

Things I Love. . .

2008-07-29T11:14:00.000-07:00

It took me several tries to write this post. Not because I couldn’t find the words to describe these heavenly morsels but because every time I started to think about them I would go into some kind of salivary daydream broken only by the drool dripping onto my hands still poised over my keyboard in mid-sentence. This trance is similar to what happens when I open a bag of these crispy devils. I become lost in their savory goodness and the next thing I know my hand is hitting the bottom of the empty bag, fingers digging furiously for those tiny, tiny crumbs way down in the corners. Thank god my head won’t fit in the bag. My only reprieve in this bender of carbs and grease is when I stop to gulp a refreshing beverage that is necessary to curb the onslaught of sodium attacking my tongue. In fact that is my word of advice to you upon trying this bewitching blend flavors: make sure that you do NOT have any potable liquid near you. Don’t even sit near the fish tank. It is your only salvation against following the same path of shame and gluttony that has befallen me. And if you don't believe me. . . take it from the bag itself. . . . .

WHEN MUSTARD MET HONEY
Dijon mustard is sophisticated and a bit snooty. Honey is sweet and wild. Sparks fly when they meet… it’s love at first sight. Honey mellows and softens mustard’s sharp edge. Yes, we know, we’re talking about potato chips here. But take a bite of these sweet, savory lovelies and you just might get obsessed. We are.

BUY THEM NOW AT MOST GROCERIES STORES!

Sunny Days Are Here Again. . . .

2008-07-27T18:37:00.000-07:00

I love this picture. It depicts what summer should be. Barefeet and watermelon, skinned knees and sprinklers in your underwear. And it reminds me of what summer has felt like for our family this year as well. We've seen parades and been in parades, had picnics in parks and in our own backyard. We've eaten ice cream, elephant ears and fruit kabobs. We've run through sprinkers (all four of us, but only two in our underwear) and wrestled in the grass until we laughed ourselves silly. We've gathered friends for BBQ's and family for reunions and welcomed more babies than I ever thought possible. But even with this plethora of activities, this has somehow been one of our most relaxed summers in years. Maybe beause the kids are getting older? Maybe because we aren't scheduled to the hilt? Maybe it's just my outlook on life at the moment. But whatever it is, it has allowed even the busy days of summer to stay pleasant, enjoyable and most of all, fun. And the best part? It's only half over.

Circles In My Head

2008-07-25T16:43:00.000-07:00

You know when you have so many things to do that you don't know where to start and you just kinda keep turning in circles looking for the end, or is it the beginning, of the ridiculously unending daisy-chain of a to-do list that lays before you? This has been both figuratively and literally true for the last two weeks. Some busy good, some busy bad, some just busy. And I have several things I want to write about, but I'm just not finding the time. So bear with me because I really want to tell you about our fabulous 4th of July. And Adam's 5-month quest for Kindergarten admittance. And all of Jamie's intriguing, hilarious and futilely frustrating new personality quirks. I really do. And I will. So if I can just get that load of laundry started before the kids go to bed then I can . . . . . . and then. . . . and then. . . . .

In the meantime, check out our new family photo in the upper right corner. No one's crying, everyone has a shirt on and you can't even see the schmutz on Jamie's face.

A Handsome Young Gent. . . .

2008-07-14T18:48:00.000-07:00

Announcing the grand entrance of . . . . .

Blake Hamilton

July 11, 3:13pm

7lbs, 11oz.

The first son of our good friends Joel and Adele, this fine young lad came bounding into the world in just seven minutes on July 11th (7/11), weighing 7lbs, 11oz. Keep this kid away from the craps table!

Baby Blake is the sixth (sorry, not the seventh) and final delivery in our family/friends baby bonanza. And after months of waiting, he also makes Lily a very lucky (and proud) big sister! All our congrats on your beautiful boy.

Exceeding Expectations. . . .

2008-07-14T18:40:00.000-07:00

Adam: Are you happy Momma?

Me: Oh yes, Adam. I'm so happy that I get to do fun things with you and Daddy and Jamie this weekend.

Adam: No, no, no. Are you so happy that Jamie got in trouble this time and it wasn't me??

A Million Times Better Than Listening to a Piccolo Pete. . .

2008-07-03T14:09:00.001-07:00

I first heard this song a few years back on CMT. I immediately downloaded it and spent the next several weeks toe-tapping my way through the chorus. Months later, a crashed hard drive ate my copy of Shooter Jennings', 4th of July (from his Put the O Back in Country album) and it somehow faded from my memory as well. It wasn't until Rick Emerson mentioned it on his website a few months ago saying how it was one of those songs you just wish you had written yourself, that I remembered this infectious concoction of country and southern rock and immediately added it back to my collection. Not only is 4th of July a perfect song for today, but is an anthem for every crazy road trip with friends, every bittersweet teenage crush and every lazy, going-nowhere-fast afternoon that summer brings.

Unfortunately they wouldn't let me embed the song here so you'll have to click on the link below to watch the video. Just try not tapping your toes, it's impossible.

LISTEN HERE!

Life, Liberty and Happiness to all!

Happy 4th of July!

Do You Twitter?

2008-07-01T20:56:00.000-07:00

Take a look to the left and you'll notice something new. My recent Twitter posts. What's Twitter? I'm so glad you asked. According to Wikipedia, Twitter is " a free social networking and micro-blogging service that allows users to send "updates" (or "tweets"; text-based posts, up to 140 characters long) to the Twitter web site, via the Twitter web site, text messaging or instant messaging."

In short, it allows me to post small immediate updates to the blog via IM, text or email when I don't have time to log on and write a full entry or I just have to let you know what is going on right now. Like when Jamie screams, "Beeg Fuck! Beeg Back Fuck!" across the daycare parking lot in front of at least three parents. Yes Jamie, that's a big black truck. Humiliation like this just has to be shared. Immediately.

You can see the last three updates from this page or click on "What was I doing earlier?" to see a complete history. And if you don't happen to have your own life you can even subscribe to get my latest updates as text messages on your phone. How intrusively 21st century is that?

My Little Cannibal. . . .

2008-06-29T20:43:00.001-07:00

"Adam, do you need your fingernails trimmed?"

"No, they're already short because I chewed them off."

"I wish you would stop that."

"I can't stop."

"I know, it can be really hard to stop biting your nails."

"Well, I can't stop because skin is meat and I like meat. "

Things I Love

2008-06-27T15:47:00.000-07:00

In the fall of 1999 a new drama depicting the inner workings of the White House and the staffers that make it run debuted on NBC. The previews looked interesting and I recognized a couple of faces (Martin Sheen and Rob Lowe) so I decided to give it a try. I remember being pleasantly surprised enough by the first episode that I was present for the second. By the third episode of The West Wing Damonn and I were hooked. For the next four years* Wednesday nights at 8:00 were reserved for POTUS (President of the United States), our newly minted nickname for our newly designated favorite show. We watched in silence, hanging on every word, using only commercials (in our pre-Tivo days) for discussion and commentary. As the seasons passed, Josh, Sam, Leo, C.J. and Toby became as familiar to us as the people at our own jobs and President Josiah Bartlet came to personify my ideal president. He became my POTUS.

Nearly ten years later, I am again drawn in by the wit, humor, passion and patriotism of this same cast of characters and mesmerized once again by the masterful writing of Aaron Sorkin – without whom, The West Wing surely suffers. And I just recently became aware that Mr. Sorkin is also the wordsmith of two more of my favorites, The American President and A Few Good Men. Not to mention Sports Night and Malice. Is there anything this guy writes that isn’t brilliant?

All seven seasons are now available on DVD, the second of which I just finished yesterday. The final episode of this second season, The Two Cathedrals, might just be the best hour television has ever seen. I have included two segments of it below along with another one of my favorites from Season 1. All of them are good examples of the writing, acting, and direction that make The West Wing one of the Things I Love the most.

As segment from The Season 2 Finale. After the death of a long-time friend, President Bartlet confronts God in his own house.

The final minutes of the Season 2 finale. President Bartlet walks to a press confrence moments after announcing an administration scandal. Dire Straight's "Brother In Arms" is the perfect song choice to portray the loyalty of his staff as they head onto the battlefield of re-election and scandal.

One of my favorite moments of Season 1. The Religious Right get shown the door by President Bartlet.

*The West Wing aired for seven seasons (1999-2006) but we only watched for four. The start of the fifth season coincided with the novelty and relentless schedule of a new baby (Adam) and the fact the Aaron Sorkin was no longer writing for the show. Somehow those Wednesday nights became less and less of a priority.

Happy Birthday Mr. President. . . .

2008-06-25T16:12:00.000-07:00

In my email this morning I found this. Apparently they missed the memo about my switch to the Democratic Party. But I'm glad they did because although I won't be shelling out the $62+ plus for our dear president, I do have a few words I'd like to pass along.

And one question. . . . how exactly will Mrs. Bush be "presenting" an ecard? Maybe that's code for saying he doesn't know how to use Outlook.

Dear Tiffany ,

In a few short days, President Bush will celebrate his 62nd birthday. Don't miss out on your opportunity to wish the President a Happy Birthday by signing the RNC's eCard today.

As this is the last birthday the President will observe in the White House, our Party wants to make this an extra special occasion. Mrs. Bush will be presenting our President with this birthday greeting from steadfast supporters like you, Tiffany . To be included in this unique celebration, please click here.

And if you can, please consider commemorating President Bush's 62nd birthday with a gift our entire Party can share. Your secure online gift of $62 or whatever you can afford -- $1,000, $500, $100 or even $25 -- is essential to electing John McCain and Republicans up and down the ticket.

It will take the collective commitment of every Republican to retain the White House and regain our majorities in the U.S. House and Senate. Your special donation will help fund the vital campaign services our candidates need to run strong campaigns and win.

Please add your name to the RNC's virtual Birthday eCard for President Bush today. Thank you for your continued generous support of our Party and our cause.

Sincerely,

Robert M. "Mike" Duncan
Chairman, Republican National Committee

P.S. Tiffany , this is your last chance to join the First Lady in making this an extra special birthday celebration for our President. Please take a moment right now to sign the President's Birthday eCard. Thank you.

Can You Say FREEDOM?!?

2008-06-23T16:18:00.000-07:00

I am going to WASHINGTON, D.C.!! Let me repeat that. I AM GOING TO WASHINGTON, D.C. You know, that city on the east coast that is the home to the real, actual Declaration Of Independence? I will be there galavanting freely among the memorials sans kids and responsibility for three whole days. Damonn is attending an AARP convention for work there in September so I will be shacking up with him by night and skipping down Pennsylvania Ave by day. Honestly, I would be happy to be visiting a Motel 6 in Yuma, AZ if it meant three days to myself, but for an American history junkie like myself (I bought myself the DVD box set The Presidents for my birthday) to have access to the nation's most treasured memorials and artifacts is like coming home to the mother ship. Dead Presidents, here I come!!

And Baby Makes Four. . . .

2008-06-23T15:10:00.000-07:00

. . . . . for my good friend Misha and her husband Luke. May I introduce. . . . .

William Davis

June 18th, 9:50am
6lbs, 14oz

Baby Will also makes Norah a big sister and it looks like she is already taking to the role like a champ! And if you take a look, you'll notice that Will's birthday is the same as my new niece Katelyn (below). Yep, we were blessed with two beautiful babes on one day! Five down, one to go of the six friends/family we know having babies within six months!

Announcing To The World. . . .

2008-06-20T15:01:00.000-07:00

Katelyn Robin

Born June 18th, 5:15am
8lbs, 9oz

Arriving in a whirlwind four-hour delivery, Katelyn is the newest addition to our growing group of cousins and the first baby for my brother Jason and his wife Lindi. Congratulations to you both, she's a beauty!

If You Were To Peek In Our Living Room Window. . .

2008-06-19T20:50:00.000-07:00

You'd see us getting down with our bad selves on almost any night of the week. You gotta love Adam's Napolean Dynamite-esque dance moves. . . . .

Here Comes The Sun. . . .

2008-06-17T20:27:00.000-07:00

. . . . . Doo-do-di-doo. . . . .

So after crybabying about the weather a couple posts back the sun decided to go a make me eat my words and be sunny all weekend. Which is fine with me. I'm happy to slurp up anything I said, mushy vowels and all, if he'll just hang around for a few more days. You know, just so we can say we officially had a summer. Whoah - hold on, there I go talkin' trash about that big ol' ball of luscious UV again. I'm sorry, I take it back. Please don't go.

Yes, this past weekend was fabulous. I dare say, perfect. Sunny, 75, a couple of puffy clouds just to keep that brilliant blue sky from being, I don't know, boring. And by all accounts from Damonn, he had great Father's Day as well. We played in the park at least three times, once meeting his brother and his lovely girlfriend (his brother's not Damonn's) to play frisbe and eat lunch. We also made it to the aforementioned Tigard Balloon Festival which turned out to be one of the best yet. Because of the great weather they were able to get six balloons heated up and glowing. They don't actually take off (they do that in the mornings), but keep them heated and tethered so you can go right up and check them out. Oh, and while we're on the subject of hot air balloons, let me just say I won't be taking that ride across the French countryside. THOSE BASKETS ARE WAY TINIER THAN THEY LOOK IN PICTURES!

But the best part of the weekend was Sunday evening when I came down with a funny rash on my arms. It actually took me a second to realize. . . . .I had a sunburn. How cool is that?

Please Stand By. . . .

2008-06-17T16:12:00.000-07:00

Posts on Father's Day and more are forthcoming but in the meantime please read this. It is from Dooce.com but is written by guest writer, Jim Griffioen of Sweet Juniper. He has managed a group of words that contain more hilarity and truth than I've seen in a month. He had me at "polychromatic pubes" and by the time I got to the phrase "only the faint sound of a unicorn braying hints that someone inside might be struggling to empty her colon", I was willing to bear his third child. You just don't get writing like this on CNN.com

http://www.dooce.com/2008/06/13/rite-passage

Winter Blues. . . .

2008-06-12T10:32:00.000-07:00

I must apologize for my recent lack of, and lack-luster posting. I have no other excuse except that my life, as of late, is a direct reflection of these posts: boring and tedious. Please feel comfort in the fact that I am not ignoring this site (or you) and that if my life was at all eventful and I was, say, touring France by hot air balloon, changing the world by teaching pygmy children to knit or was involved in even a minimal battle with a chronic case of toe jam, you would know about it. But alas, I seem to be in some kind of parental parade down Groundhog’s Day Lane.

And Groundhog’s Day (the movie) it is. Each day my family presses our noses against rain-streaked windows looking for the slightest ray of sunshine, hoping that this will be the day we can don our new summer sandals. Sandals that have grown dusty in our entryway while waiting to tramp through bright green lawns steaming in the new spring sun. Sandals that are also waiting to Velcro themselves to my children’s very impolite feet which are climbing the walls with the bitter boredom of an extended winter.

In less rambunctious moments, Adam and Jamie, stand at the sliding glass window, Frisbee in hand in a perfect portrayal of the first page of Cat in the Hat. “Too wet to go out, And too cold to play ball. So we sat in the house. We did nothing at all.” I know, I know you’re asking the same question Adam asked me the first time we read this book, “Why don’t they just play with their toys?” Well there does come a time during winter, say around May 17th, that Play-doh and Hot wheels lose their designated appeal and become merely something to catapult at your sibling. I know how they feel. I have stacks of books I could be reading and movies from Blockbuster line our kitchen counter, but each time I see them I roll my eyes in disgust that they cannot somehow transform themselves into an actual, real-life adventure.

But even as I write this, the sun has begun to peek from the clouds and the forecast today does call for actual sun. It even teases a delightful Father’s Day weekend. Could it be possible that our annual visit to the local Tigard (Hot Air) Balloon Festival won’t have to include rain boots and heavy coats? Who knows, maybe that balloon ride over France might even work out.

A Rose By Any Other Name. . . .

2008-06-06T13:07:00.000-07:00

I picked these from our backyard which is now bursting with new rose buds on a daily basis. Just in time for Portland's annual Rose Festival.

Things I Love. . .

2008-06-02T11:04:00.000-07:00

Onions? Yep, onions. This bag of frozen chopped onion and a bottle of olive oil is the start to almost any good meal. And because it’s already chopped it means no more crying and no more onion odor lingering on cutting boards and fingers. And its frozen, which means the right amount of onion is always ready and waiting in my freezer with no leftovers stinking up the place.

A bag of these babies is not always easy to find. In fact I have yet to see them under any of the usual frozen veggie name brands but Albertson’s does carry them under their store brand. And they’re worth the search because in my kitchen they rank right up there with my kitchen shears and bottled garlic as a sanity saver. Bon Appétit!

Only In Portland. . . .

2008-05-29T19:47:00.000-07:00

There's more than one reason Oregon is green. Sure, one is the amount of rainfall that we get here, but the other is the amount of Hybrids on our roads. Especially in Portland. Eleven out of every 1,000 households in Portland own a hybrid car - the highest in the country as of 12/06*. In fact, according to an article in Willamette Week from 2002, Portland drivers owned 500 of the first 20,000 Honda and Toyota hybrids sold in the US. And that was back when being "green" wasn't even cool. But Portland isn't the only city making Oregon green. Bend and Eugene also ranked in the top 15 cities buying the most hybrids.

So I suppose it shouldn't have been a surprise to see this parking sign this past weekend, except that hybrids are so common around here, we forget that they're actually something special.

Click HERE to get more info on getting a hybrid of your own!

*According to a report on Hybridcars.com

Mid-Life Crisis

2008-05-27T13:24:00.000-07:00

Watching these guys on stage is like watching your dad - and sadly, now our husbands - relive their high school glory days. You just know its going to end up with Advil and Aspercreme. It's over guys. It was great, but its over. Accept it and move on.

And if you're interested, here's their new song, Summertime. Just as sad, you just don't know all the words. The peek-a-boo belly shot that Donnie gives us halfway through is especially naughty!