Is It Christmas Yet?

This morning I got the first Christmas card of the season. In November. And it was from my sister, Emily.

As if I needed any more proof that the world was spinning off it's axis.

The Happening...

I used to sit down and try and write a bunch of blog posts at one time.

When my brain or memory would fail me, I would put up a bunch of photographs. I didn't always have any, but I often did, and if I didn't I'd pull out the camera and take pictures of the boys eating or playing with their DS things, or sometimes my backyard.

So there I was, right after Thanksgiving, ready to put up a bunch pf photos of smiling and eating relatives, and everything seemed to be going according to plan, when...

I got an error message.

It was upbeat. It began with "whoops!"

When I was tracking my running, RunKeeper sometimes gave me error message s that began "Oh Noes!" when their server wasn't functioning properly. And I would get doubly irritated because not only was the server not working, but I'm in no mood for computers trying to act all cute. This time I kind of felt the same way.

Only Blogger wasn't taking any of the blame. Oh no.

The "whoops!" messgae went on to explain that I had reached my free 1GB of free storage space for photos in my online Picasa web album, the one that stores my photos, and that I would have to purchase additional space if I wanted to go on. Or perhaps order some photos or something?

Quite honestly, I don't remember the exact wording of the message. I was upset. And as I am not inclined to pay for web storage nor am I ready to order photos (I just ordered 300 prints from iphoto) I was in kind of a lurch.

So now I'm doing a bit of shuffling around. I'm trying to transfer photos from the Picasa web albums to iPhoto, so I don't lose them (I'll end up having to back them up again, I know. Then, I can go and delete them, one by one. off the Picasa albums.

The downside to this, and it is a real downside, is that when I delete a photo from Picasa, it is no longer available on this blog.

Go back. Take a moment and go back to the earliest of the posts I did, way back in 2006. You'll see that the earliest photos are gone and unviewable. You should view all of them, all of the pictures of Nick as a toddler and Nate as a chubby cheeked baby, go back and see them all now. While you still can.

From this point on it's like some horror film, Back To The Future, maybe, but to me more like Steven King's Langoliers, or The Nothing from The Neverending Story. It has begin, and now, little by little, those old photographs will disappear, gradually picking up speed, until today, too, is eaten by the no-more-photos monster...

Anyway, one of the reasons things have slowed down is that all this shuffling around takes time. Photos will arrive before too long. I appreciate your patience.

Dear Santa

Circumstances this year have postponed this letter until the day after Thanksgiving once again. If you ask me, this is when Christmas belongs: after Thanksgiving. Not before, and certainly not before Halloween. The people who disagree with me are thinking in marketing terms. This year, I've even waited until after Black Friday.

This year I ask, as I always do, for gifts to remain modest. We are trying to avoid excess, so we can have room for our favorite things. Things that can be used up - art supplies or soaps , or things that can be read or worm - books or clothing - are very much appreciated. Also, special gifts of trips to movies, zoos, playgrounds, or parks, can be coordinated and the boys will love them.

Andrew - age 5 on Dec. 17th
Shirt size: 5
Pants size: 5 (has a lot of these, some hardly worn because Nate grew out of them so quickly.)
Shoe size: 12 (needs these, also needs socks!)
Asking for: a nutcracker doll, a slingshot (don't get him one), Books, anything that is not girlish, or babyish.
Likes: learning to read

Nathan - age 7 on Jan. 16th
Shirt size: 7/8
Pants size: 7
Shoes size: 2
needs all sorts of clothing - he wears things out quickly
Asking for: DSXL (no), gloves that have mitten tops that fold back to fingerless gloves
Likes: Harry Potter, Books, Video Games, puzzles.

Nicholas - age 8
Shirt size: 7/8
Pants size: 7
Shoe size: 2.5
needs all sorts of clothing - he wears things out quickly
Asking for: an owl (again, no)
Likes: Harry Potter, Legos, Pokemon, Cooking. He likes Rick Riordan books, and might enjoy the 39 Clues book.

I will add to this list as the toy catalogues come pouring in, and I will delete anything that gets purchased. I'll also put a link to this letter at the top of the blog (see where it says "Dear Santa?" Yep, that's it!) , so anyone can access it as we get closer to the actual holiday!

Love, Kathleen

Let Us Be Together Tonight

I am horrible  at taking pictures.

I've gotten better, now that I have children and now that cameras have gone digital. I can take as many as I want, and don't have to pay for film development.  It's just, when I'm standing there clicking away with my camera I'm always thinking "Why am I taking a picture of this? What di I think I'm capturing?"

And then, years later, when I'm rifling through photo albums with the shot arrange according to whimsey instead of by subject or chronologically, I'm metaphorically kicking myself in the head for not taking more pictures than I did.

Thanksgiving is a time to count our blessings. Let us try to remember them the whole year through.

This song has been running through my head lately.  If I had time, I would have put together a slide show of old Thanksgiving photographs to go with this song, and maybe someday I will. For now, please give the song a listen (watching the YouTube slideshow is up to you, I don't care for it much.) You can look at these four photos I managed to scan while you listen.

And we can be Thankful and Grateful for what we have.

Thanksgiving Game Plan

We have a guest list of 27 people.

I've ordered 2 turkeys.

I have written out the menu, composed a shopping list, and created a cooking schedule.

Now we simply need to purchase a table and make sure someone bring up some folding chairs.

And hope all the guests make it up.

For now, all I have to do is clean the house.

The Older They Get

My kids have stopped being so funny.

No, seriously, I rely on them for material. They say something funny and I make a mental note so that I can write it up for this blog. "Ah! How funny little Nathan is! Isn't Nicholas so humorously observant? And Andy is just adorable! Ha ha ha! How Charming!"

Right.

Except that then I sit down to write something, knowing full well how charming and hilarious my kids are, and.... nothing. I have either forgotten everything they've said over the past week, or...  they are no longer funny.

I'm thinking this is because they're older. Or maybe because I've put too much pressure on them? (Be funnier, Darn it! Say something to make me laugh! NOT the interrupting caw joke!)

Whatever the reason, it's going to cause some problems.

It comes and goes.

I lost my voice.

The worst part of this, aside from it being a Choir Day (Sunday), is that I am unable to yell at my children. Or even to calmly remind them not to poke each other with sticks or throw sneakers at each other's heads.

I may resort to carrying a whistle or a fog horn.

One thing, Then another

The first thing that happened was that Andy got strep throat.

That actually happened almost two weeks ago, right after Halloween. So you'd think it wouldn't have anything to do with what's happening NOW, would it?

But you'd be wrong. Because Thursday Andy had a playdate, and when I wandered over to pick him up, his face was red and splotchy, and the mother of the other kids was wearing a look of near panic. "I swear, he didn't eat anything except PBJ and pineapple! I can give you a list!" She was mortified, and I had to explain to her that all he eats at home is PBJ, so it was most definitely not that.

I took him home and gave him a bath, thinking he might be itching because he had a haircut that morning, and that I could just wash away any little hairs making him itch. In the bath, I saw that he actually had huge raised welts all over his back and his tummy.

So I gave him an antihistamine. The bottle said ages 6 and up. But Andy's almost 5, so I gave him 3/4 of the recommended 1 tsp.

Andy passed out. I mean, he was awake one minute and then I turned around and he had fallen asleep in a dining room chair.

But the hives went away.

Until that night. After we gave him another dose of amoxicillin.

The next morning he still had hives. I called the pediatrician to ask what we should do, because we only had one day of antibiotics left.

I couldn't send Andy to school, because no school would take a kid so red and blotchy and itchy.

So I had to call the mother of the other kid Andy was supposed to go home with after school and let her know he wasn't going to be around.

And then I remembered I had a hair appointment. And I spent forty minutes bouncing off the walls, wondering if I should cancel my hair appointment or just leave, and why oh why I didn't give the pediatrician my cell phone number.

A nurse called back, but she didn't have any immediate answers, except to say that sometimes it DID take over a week for these kinds of reactions to medications to occur. She said she had to talk to the doctor. I left the phone with Steve and took off to get my hair done.

And when I came back, the office hadn't called back for the second time. When they did, they said to just stop the meds.

I was now much later to the grocery store than I had planned. I usually go in the morning. The store was crowded. When I got there I realized I didn't have my cell phone, so I couldn't listen to music. But the bigger deal was that I had somehow lost my list. I had to guess about what I needed for the few days before Thanksgiving shopping. I kept thinking I would call home and get Steve to tell me if the list was on the counter, and then I remembered I didn't have my phone.

When I got home, without a few key items, I didn't find my phone. It wasn't where I thought I'd left it. I had to walk around with the house phone listening for the ring, and I finally found it in my car, on the floor in the back under the passenger seat.

That afternoon I finally gave Andy a second dose of antihistamine, which knocked him out so much he couldn't do karate. Nate and Nick had a fight that resulted in someone pushing another someone off the bunk bed ladder, so I told them no karate. There were tears and screaming and wailing. And I still had errands that I had planned to do while they were in karate.

So I took Nate (who was wearing clothing) with me to pick up my milk and get the dry cleaning.

But I somehow forgot to go to the dump. I don't know how, the car was full of old boxes and recycling. By the time we got home, the dump was closed.

Then I had a glass of wine.

Backyard

Curtains for me

For the life of me, I can't figure out why purchasing curtains is so complicated.

Actually, I wasn't even purchasing curtains. It was the hardware. The curtain rods. Oh, I went to Sears and found them. And I looked and selected one that was the right size. And I looked and saw the that the one behind it was also the same size.

And, silly me, since there were longer ones behind them, and shorter ones in from, I them made the assumption that I was selecting ALL THE SAME SIZE.

But I wasn't.

No, instead I have two the correct size, and two ridiculously long curtain rods.

I realized this, of course, only after I had removed our existing curtain rods, drilled new holes in our already very holy walls, and begun the process of hanging the actual curtains up.

I already opened one of the packages.

Now I have to go back tot he store tomorrow. I'm terrified they won't have the kind of curtain rods I need on the size I need, and I'm going to have to drive all over creation trying to find them.

Which is what happened the first time we tried putting curtains up in this room. We had to go to so many stores to find eight panels, and when we got them, one was too short. We hid it behind the TV.

Why is this so complicated? It seriously makes me want to beat someone with the actual curtain rod.

I spent all day on this, and it isn't done. And nothing else got done.

And Then It Snowed

Actually, it was more like slush. Thank goodness it melted before nightfall.

The boys had snow pants and boots by 7am and went out to play before the school bus came. They were soaking wet in minutes.

I went out to try and do damage control and take out the trash. I saw Nathan slip and fall face first into the wet slush of the driveway.

For a moment he didn't move. Sometimes kids do that when they hurt themselves.

I called out and walked over to see if he was OK.

Nate got up, rolling every other dry spot into the slush in the process.

"I'm OK." he said. "Lucky I fell into the slush! This slush saved my life!"

A View

There are advantages to having a bigger window in my kitchen.

Birthday Gift

 For my birthday, Nathan dressed up.  His idea, he did it all by himself. (yes, those are sweatpants.)

He also made me this best birthday card.

  

Out Of Step

With the time change comes the inevitable onslaught of posts and comments from pet owners and parents of young children. My cat didn't get the time change and woke me at 5am. The baby refused to go to sleep and now is up at 3am. The dog was ready to go out at 4am.

The adults in these situations always seem to be fine with whatever time change there is. In this case, we were given an extra hour to sleep in. All grown peoples were supposed to simply enjoy their extra hour of sleeping in and then adjust, going to be when the clock's numbers seemed right, and waking at their usual waking time.

I know, I know, the time change was a week ago!
I am not most people.

I blame it on my routine. From day to day, or week to week, I am usually pretty certain of what I will be doing. If it's Wednesday morning I'm cleaning the house. Thursday I'm paying the bills. Friday I'm grocery shopping. After the boys come home we dash to do a quick homework, practice piano, off to karate or wherever, and then I throw dinner together. We eat, I clean up quickly, bathe the boys, read them books, and then to bed.

The time change throws a wrench in everything. I am so habitual that I can't sleep in. This means I'm awake at 4:30, staring at the ceiling. I force myself to wait until 5 before finally creeping down to the basement to work out. I don't know why I'm creeping, The boys are awake.

 When I get up from my workout, it is now still pitch dark. By lunchtime I'm starving. By dinner the boys are tired and cranky and Nate is falling asleep at the table. I have a thing inside my head saying 'hurry hurry hurry!" like it's already 10pm, so we rush through baths and then rush through stories.

"You do know it's 7:18," Steve said the other day after I tucked the boys into bed.

I knew. But they were exhausted. And I was exhausted.

I have to say that I can understand the point of time change in olden times, before the light bulb, when people rarely rose before dawn or stayed up past dark. But these days we do both, come winter. Does it matter if the hours are int he morning or the evening? No. So what, I ask, is the point? I have yet to hear an argument that convinces me that this was a good idea.

Meanwhile, I'm just bumbling around, trying to make things more normal.

Downhill From Here

Steve was listening to his usual talk radio as he got dressed int he morning. I hate talk radio, I can't stand it, it drives me crazy. But what I hate most about it is how one sided most "hosts" can be, and how they love to hang up on or talk over anyone with an opposing view. It isn't "talk radio" that's "rant radio" and anyone who thinks they are actually getting information from such a medium is sadly deluded.

Anyway, Steve likes this particular program which isn't so bad, because it has both a conservative and a liberal, and the topics they talk about are serious things like chewing gum in meetings, or... I don't know... dress codes for restaurants.

When I walked in, the woman was talking about hormone replacement therapy. I can't remember exactly how it went word for word, but it went something like this:

radio: women who don't delay hormone replacement therapy, who begin it sooner, have a lower chance of getting Alzheimers. Those who wait have a higher chance. What do you blah blah blah blah blah

Steve: Kathleen, are you hearing this?

Me: Yeah. So?

Steve: Well... you should listen, You should start taking those hormones.

Me; Steve, they're talking about menopause.

Steve: ---

Me: I'm 37.

Steve: ---

Me: Do you even know what menopause is?

Steve: Well...

Me: And do you really want me taking MORE hormones right now?

And that said, it's my birthday today. I'm 38. One year closer to Hormone Replacement Therapy. Or not. Depending on whatever it was they said on that program.

The Dark Suffer

I can't remember what we were talking about. I think it was Nate's Tick. Or maybe it was about the rats in New York city escaping the subway... But I think it was more likely about Nate's Tick....

Anyway, he suddenly started talking about The Dark Suffer.

"You know, The Dark Suffer. Nick knows about it, right Nick?"

I thought it must be some Pokemon battle thing, but then Nick said "You know, when the fleas from rats made people sick?"

"Wait," I said. "Are you talking about the Black Plague?"

Recognition lit up both boy's faces as they nodded. "The Black Plague? That was hundreds of years ago. You don't really have to worry about that anymore."

The Dark Suffer?

You Are Given A Right

In this country, you are given the right to select your government. As twisted and complicated as you believe this process to be, every vote counts.

Today I am casting my vote in favor of Marriage Equality, for the right to make decisions about my own body, and to any extent possible, for those who take Climate Change seriously.

You can agree with me, you can disagree with me, but today, do it in a voting booth.


Also, it's Lillian's Birthday. Happy Birthday, Lillian!

Boat

Here are some photos of the boat that used to be ours, Post Storm.

Done Dreamin' is just that.

No Ticks On Me

After Trick-Or-Treating on the 31st, we still had to make the drive back home.

Both Nate and Andy fell asleep in the car, so when we got home, I had them skip baths so they could hop into bed, even though it wasn't even 8pm.

The next morning, at the breakfast table, there was a slight commotion. Then Nick and Nate were both shouting at me that there was a tick on Nate.

It was on his chest, high up enough so that he couldn't see it. It wasn't swollen, but it has sug itself in.

I called him over and got it out with a cotton ball, dish soap, and tweezers. (I've heard that if you cover it in soap or oil, it backs out, trying to breathe, and it makes it easier to pluck off. Don't know if it's true, but getting it off Nate was pretty easy.)

Nate sniffed a little, but the tick was off, and I figured it was forgotten.

That afternoon, however, he was poking at it during piano practice.

"I feel all funny about it," he said. And then he asked if it was true that you could catch a disease from ticks.

"Yes," I said, not really thinking about it. "You can, but you won't. We'll keep an eye on it just in case, but I'm sure you're fine. Now let's practice this."

Cut to Nate in Steve's Den, crying with worry about catching some illness from his tick bite.

By the way, he's fine. The area was red because he was poking it all day. Once we put a band-aid on the spot and he was able to see the reflection in the mirror, he was a lot calmer.

UNICEF

Halloween was postponed here in our town. In Lillian's neighborhood, however, things looked good! So we headed down there on the 31st, and the boys trick or treated.

The boys have the little orange UNICEF boxes, handed out by the church. This year was the first year that Nathan understood the concept. People give you change for the boxes, and the boxes go to poor children.

This year, each of the boys remembered to bring their orange boxes to Lillian's, and all three of them carried them out into the night.

The first house we stopped, the guy gave them each a dollar.

The second place we stopped, some very nice young adults passed out candy, but didn't seem to notice the UNICEF boxes. I started backing away, Andy shouting out "Thank You!" and suddenly Nate froze.

"Wait!" he shouted at the nice young adults. "Aren't you forgetting something?" he waved his orange box in the air. "UNICEF?"

The kids told us they didn't have change, and I pulled Nate away, apologizing.

"Listen," I said. "Some people will notice the boxes and give you coins. Others won't have anything. But don't ask. It's a little touchy, and we don't want to be rude."

At the next house, a very nice lady placed candy bars in the boy's bags. Nate didn't say anything, but he raised the box over his head and waved it back and forth, making sure the lady would notice it.

After a few more houses I told him that if he didn't stop waving it around I would take it away.

But this time of year, I'm reminded he would be great at fundraising.

Storm Of The Century

They say things like this all the time. "Storm of the Century!" the headline will say. Or "Biggest snowfall of the decade!" or "Worst storm of the year." Usually Steve and I will glance at each other and then snort. "It's only January," we'll say. Or "it's 2010. The decade / century has just begun. HOW do they know?"

People seemed really hyped up about Sandy. There was a lot of giggling, a lot of eye rolling. People made jokes about not needing to stock up (I've still got all my stuff from Irene that I never used!) and people complained about the universe being out to ruin Halloween.

We braced for the storm. I expected a few downed branches. Maybe another fallen tree. We expected to lose power - I mean, let's face it, we lose power every few months. I got out all the flashlights. Steve bought gas for the generator. We charged up out electronic devices, our ipads, our computers, our phones.

I expected, in my self-centered, ego-centric world, that we would get the worst of the storm. We love in the country. There are trees. We always get the worst of the storm. At least compared to most of the people we knew.

It rained. The wind blew.

Facebook lit up with people updating the world on when they lost power.

And then the news sites started showing photographs of floating cars and waves hitting people.

A few daredevils I know posted pictures of an optimistic Atlantic Ocean. One picture was from a car that got soaked in salt water seconds later. One picture was of a plywood dam, taken from a second floor window which no longer exists.

Most of our town lost power. The kids were out of school for three days, and Halloween was postponed for the second year in a row. (The Universe Hates Halloween.)

We did not lose power.

Oh, there was a moment when the lights went out, and I called out "This is it, guys!" and then, twenty seconds later, the lights came back on. And they stayed on.

I wish I could say the same for my family.

My parents were evacuated out of their NYC apartment when a crane collapsed nearby. They don't know how to dismantle the crane (it was a tall one, building a lovely eyesore skyrise,) and everyone is afraid it will simply fall and crash into nearby buildings. The trouble is, in the hurry to get out, someone was left behind - a small, tail-less cat named Cinder.

The building is now padlocked. Jamie could not get in to retrieve the cat, and was told it would be 4-5 weeks before they'd be let back in. He led the  Save Cinder! movement until someone directed him to the back of the building, where they let people in small numbers (five) so that they might collect pets and other important items. Medication. Coats. Computers.

So my parents are refugees, as is my brother.

Areas have been flooded. Public transportation is broken, due to flood damage in the subway tunnels. Linda is without heat, running water, electricity. She says people are plugging cell phones into every outlet they can find - at banks, at the posts of some building (was it the library?)

Remember the boat? Steve's boat? Well, I don't think I ever posted about this, but Steve sold the boat, just a few weeks ago. Which turns out to be kind of lucky. Because the boat was totaled in the storm. Another boat broke from it's mooring and smashed into her. I feel bad, though, for the guy who bought her. He is from South Jersey, and although his insurance will more than cover the cost of the boat, he and his wife lost their home in the storm.

I'm getting all over the place, here. The thing is, there has been a major disruption. And so much damage. I feel horrible, and helpless, and wish I could do something.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that things get back to normal soon. I'm hoping that damage is easily repaired. I'm thinking of my family and of the so many many people who has lost so much. And reminding myself that we never know what this storm will bring, or the next.

The End Is Nigh

Oh, Good Lord, It's November already.

The beginning. The beginning of the end. Of 2012.

Once Halloween is over, the ball has more than started rolling. It's mostly down the hill and is rolling at blur-vision speed.

First, the election. Lillian's Birthday.
My Birthday.
Veteran's Day, with no school.
Thanksgiving. Chez Moi.
December. Piano Recital. Parties.
Andy's Birthday.
Christmas.
New Year's Eve.

And just like that, it's 2013.
And I register Andrew for Kindergarten.

Happy Halloween

Jack 'O Lantern

As of right now, we have two pumpkins carved. One is still waiting for it's artist to create something outstanding.

When I was a kid, we got pumpkins, someone handed us a knife, and we cut out shapes to make scary faces. At least that's what I remember.

These days, they sell kits with stencils to make fancy lit lanterns. The boys want to make these, of course. So much more fun than triangle eyes. But they can't exactly handle the knives.

So I end up getting to do the bulk of the handywork, after the boys have poked holes in various locations.

But that's OK. The boys are proud, and the lanterns are cool.

See A Show!

I'm going to New York in a couple of days.

I am going to New York to see Josh Cohen. Not that Josh Cohen, The Other Josh Cohen.

When I told Steve, he was confused. He was all, "Who's Josh Cohen?"

Most readers will already know that The Other Josh Cohen is a show. It's a musical. If you're in NY and you know my brother, you'll probably already have heard about it. But if you're in NY and you haven't heard about it, go see it! By all accounts it's fabulous! I'm pretty excited myself.

Frankenstorm

We're supposed to get another storm.

Last year we had a big storm before Halloween. Remember that storm? It looked like this:

We had two snow days before November, and they postponed Halloween a week.

This year, it's not supposed to snow. It's supposed to wind and rain. A lot. The only comfort I can take in it as that at least we see it coming, and that maybe it won't cause too too much damage. But I'm not holding my breath because we've already gotten an email from the police department on emergency procedures and storm preparation, and one from our lovely electric company telling us we are probably almost definitely going to lose power, and to please not call them and bug them on the phone when it happens.

Not to worry, though. The boys here are practicing their magic skills, and should be able to charm us right out of the worst of it. See, here they are, in glasses and ties, the magic kind. Not the muggle kind. In a day or two, they'll be experts.

Oven! Oven!

WIth a double oven, you can cook two things at the same time. I'm a little excited. Now I want to start cooking and baking. Thanksgiving is a go!

Ghosts of Halloween Past

Not the Long Past, mind you. The Recent But Still Hilarious And Often Adorable Past. Such as....

2008

2009

2010

New England Color

Not all the colors, but some of the colors.

Kitchen Sink

Here's a lovely view of my new window. And my new sink. And the clutter that has already accumulated.

Hard At Work

Ahhhhhh!

I love my kids.

When I start out a post with "I love my kids" then you know I'm probably going to complain about them.

I love my kids.

I love it right after bath because when I wrap them up in a towel they let me cuddle and hug them, just like when they were very little.

I love tucking them in at night because they hug me back. And also, I know they're going to be sleeping soon.

What gets me - and I don't know if other parents have this problem - but what gets me is the constant... the someone always needing... the... MAHHHM!

This is how it works. I come down and the kids are doing something. They don't need me. I start to do something, like pack school lunches. Suddenly the kids start fighting, or screaming. Or someone starts calling me "Mom! Mom! Maaaahhhm!"

When I need the boys to do something, say get dressed for school, or put on shoes to catch the school bus, I am required to follow them around, announcing every step. When I do, the boys get irritated. "I KNOW!" Who could blame them. I would get irritated, too. But if I don't, the things don't get done.

"Where are your shoes?"

"I forgot!"

"Do you have your library book?"

"You didn't remind me!"

Because reminding them at breakfast and writing out a schedule that says "Friday - Library Book!" is not enough.

The thing that really irritates me, though, the one I mentioned first... is the yelling. The "Mom!" thing.

Because as soon as I walk away, as soon as I start doing something, as soon as I step into the shower or sit down at the computer or begin a phone conversation - the calling begins.

They don't really need me. They just want me to be there.

I am annoyed.

Back to Life

It's been a week since we've been back from Disney World.

I keep talking about it, and I hope I'm not being too much of a bore. It's just that I really loved this vacation. I had such a great time.

I hope my brother and my mother had a good time. I really did turn into a bossy bee, making all the decisions about where we were eating, where we were going next... I discussed where we were going next as we were standing in line for a ride, and usually had the next two stops (at least) planned out in my head.

But there was almost no wait in the lines, and all sorts of new things were going on. I loved loved loved it.

Mom, Jamie and I did get to escape one night for a very fancy dinner.

At Animal Kingdom, Nate became attached to a certain goat, and Andy developed a fondness for a certain pig.

The hotel was being refurbished, which was a bummer. The main pool was closed, and the view from our hotel room was construction. The other pool was open, though. It  had a waterfall and a waterslide, and a kid's section that looked like Alice's Tea Party.

I never did get my mother to go on Tower Of Terror. We wore her out, making her walk around parks for three days straight, and by the time we reached Hollywood Studios she really needed a rest. I did take the boys on it, though!

We also went on Star Wars.

I could go on and on a describe every detail of the trip, from the busses there to the incident at breakfast with the cereal. But I'm not going to . You're over it already.


I will tell you that Nicholas started crying at about noon on Friday, crying because the next day we were going home and he wanted to stay at Disney World forever. It was really irritating, but I knew how he felt.

I usually compensate by planning other trips. So I started doing to same with Nick, involving him in my planning. For our next trip to Disney World, currently scheduled for sometime 2017. Nick liked the Floridian, although I an making a case for the Art Of Animation Value resort. Also, be aware siblings of mine, next time you are all coming, too! It's in the plan. And you can ask Jamie, I usually get what I plan for.

The Saturday Saga

It was a Tuesday.

It didn't start out so very bad.  It started out just fine. Except that I was really tired for some reason, and I still had to finish unpacking from Disney, and my kitchen still had to be put away, and I had two loads of laundry waiting for me to fold it.

I took Andrew to Story Hour at the library, and we were going to have an early lunch and a nap, so I would feel rested up for the rest of the afternoon and actually make soe headway in my huge mountain of chores.

I was just grabbing a can of alphabet soup for Andy's lunch when Steve walked into the kitchen and suggested we go to Nashua to pick up the light fixtures.

I wasn't happy about it, because I was really hungry and really tired. But I am an adult, and was able to realize this would be better in the long run. I could nap later. So I said OK.

Andy, however, is 4. He was very unhappy about putting off lunch, even though it was only 11am. He wanted ABC soup, and he wanted it NOW. He didn't want to eat out.

I tried reasoning with Andy, and then bribing him, and then finally just picked him up and flung him into the car.

We picked up the lights from a rude lady who apparently mistook snooty for profesional. We went to lunch at an irish pub that got very crowded very quickly. I realized I forgot to call the lady that works for the school district so I could get fingerprinted tand could then go on Nick's class trip the next day.  And then, finally, we headed home.

I was driving, even though I really didn't want to be.

And I was tired, and was really looking forward to a nap.

We were so close, on our street about a mile from the house.

I kind of saw it happen before it actually happened. You see things rushing toward to windshield sometimes - rocks, branches. Usually they thump and them bounce off. But this was a huge branch, one with leaves. It hit the corner of the car and made a huge loud crashing noise. I instinctively closed my eyes and turned away from the branch.

When I opened my eyes the windshield was cracked. There was an impact point not quite unlike a bullet hole in the upper passenger side corner, and cracks shot out from there. The windshield was still up, but there was enough damage to spray glass all over Steve.

When we got home, we were able to see where the branch had hit the body of the car - it was dented, paint scraped away.

If I had been driving six inches to the left, maybe it would have just brushed off of us.

If I had been driving six inches to the right, maybe it would have crashed right through and into Steve's head.

I flapped around the house like a crazy wet hen while Steve did the actual work calling the insurance company and getting the car fixed.

We were down to one car on the day of the field trip, for piano lessons, karate lessons. I have been cramming all three kids into the back of Steve's station wagon, which smells like gas.

Mostly I was just shaken by the whole thing. It was so random. What are the chances of being hit by a huge falling tree branch? It's like the sky was falling. I drove by there twenty minutes later (on my way to get fingerprinted) and there was no branch on the road. No huge half-tree thing which I imagined must be necessary to make such damage.

So... yeah. It took me longer than I thought it would to unpack, put my kitchen in order (not quite done) and catch up on laundry (I give myself until Monday.)

Thursday Kitchen Update

Well, it's almost done.

As of this moment, we are missing an oven. There are two light fixtures that need to be installed. A patch of ceiling needs to be sanded and one spot around a ceiling light needs to be painted over. One drawer handle needs to be installed.

And the workers need to pick up 1 floor pad and 1 light they left behind.

I have got to find homes for things yet to be put away - the pool table is full of items. Pots, waffle irons, cookie cutters... various kitchen items I forgot we have, rarely use, cannot give away because what if we decide we NEED to.... I don't know.... make three thousand batches of cookies with a cookie press? What if we did that and I had given the presses away?

I also need to comb through the hutch and it's drawers. I need to go through the cupboards in the "new" laundry room and figure out what should be kept in there. I need to figure out a way to put up the tall cleaning items, like the broom and the mop.

And then I need to move things places, actually do the work. Buy a new microwave that isn't melting in the back. A new toaster oven that heats from above and below.

Thinking about it makes me tired.

But I love my new kitchen.

It looks like this: