Daddy watched Braeden play with the train today before it was put away with the Christmas decor.
Daddy: Braeden, when I was a little boy, I played with that train. That was my Polar Express.
Braeden: Oh! Was it smaller?
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Hamster or Heister?
I don't believe I shared news on a relatively recent addition to our family earlier in the winter. After some thought and consideration, it was determined we would acquire a teddy bear hamster from a local pet shop. Thus, Natasha was welcomed into our home.
Well, mostly welcomed. I mean... I was rooting for the bearded dragon. The girly girl wanted something cute and fuzzy, so she enlisted her father as a lobbyist. After mild negotiation, she was able to make the pet selection of her choice, and the lobbyist received primary responsibility for supervision of cage cleaning duties. Hey, all is fair in love and pet acquisitions.
Natasha, however, does not seem willing to accept her appointed role of dim witted house rodent.
One night, before her noisiness had her relocated to our downstairs level, she escaped through a poorly aligned Habitrail ball. After the better part of an hour, we tracked her to a cluttered corner of my bedroom. More recently, she found a poorly latched hatch in her little plastic penthouse. I watched her push it up again and again until she nearly popped out of it. I then solidly clicked the hatch, thinking myself the intellectual superior- for the moment. A few days later, in our family room, I happened to catch a light thumping sound, and I looked up to see her flopped on the floor by her cage, looking rather startled. I grabbed her before her getaway gathered much momentum, and back into the cage she went. I double checked that the hatch was secure, but later that same night, we heard rattling sounds behind our component system. Her cage was empty, and sure enough, she sat perched on a bunch of cables. Her blue plastic penthouse view was thereafter obscured by a layer of packing tape.
Well, we were starting to think this plastic cage idea was very cutesy, but very ineffective. Did the tape solve our issue? Predictions?
Yesterday morning, Todd was readying for work as the kids and I lazed around in bed. As he exited the bathroom in the hall, he exclaimed in a reprimanding tone, "ABIGAIL ROSE!" Well, I was shocked as to what in the world my daughter had done already when she had barely been out of bed yet. I immediately became defensive of her, yet listened to his next words...
"NATASHA JUST RAN INTO YOUR BROTHER'S ROOM!" It seemed he was about to accuse her of being careless with her pet.
Abigail looked confused.
"Wait a minute," I said. I had distinctly checked the cage, and Natasha was in it when I went to bed the night before, and I really hadn't thought Abi had left the upstairs since waking. "Abigail, have you even been downstairs this morning, to take Natasha out of her cage?"
Abigail said, "no!"
The hamster was wrangled from Braeden's room as we considered this mystery. Abigail ran downstairs, and the metal barred door to the cage laid plainly open. We put Natasha back in the cage. We agreed at some point within 24 hours, a glass aquarium would be her new home. Todd affixed a butterfly clip to the cage door as a temporary solution and went to work.
By this time, it was clear we had an escape artist on our hands. Little did we know her more disgusting crimes were yet unidentified!
Todd and the children went out for the glass aquarium when he returned from work (notice, I still avert primary responsibility for housing the little beast). They decorated her glass enclosed space with its new amenities until dinner was on the table. After we ate, Abi was excited to relocate Natasha. She was excused to go look at Natasha while we finished eating.
"Mommy!" she said. "There is a CHAIN in Natasha's cage." I asked her what color it was, and she said it was gold. Huh?
Now I was confused. I don't often have moments when I think, kids are so weird, and just ignore my daughter, but I admit this was one of those distracted moments. MISTAKE! I didn't really take her seriously until she came at me holding a sticky, balled up cluster of tarnished silver, intermingled with a few moist pine chips and other... clumpy unidentifiable deposits.
Eeww! I recognized the chain as one of my silver necklaces as I rinsed it loose from congealed hamster saliva and... other things. Not only had that little critter escaped, scrambled all over the house and somehow climbed the stairs up to our bedroom level, but she had swindled my silver necklace (I know not from where), tucked her treasure into her sneaky little pouches, and kept it there safe until she could deposit the booty to her inept prison! One can only speculate as to what her next steps would have been. Was she going to use my lovely necklace to bum a few extra smokes from her cell block mates, the goldfish?!
We will never know.
My necklace has been soaked in hot soap. The mini-swindler now resides in her transparent home. Time will tell if her plots of mischief are now thwarted. I admit, I give her a good bit of credit for being a clever little beast. Now as long as she stays within bounds I won't have to bring in a boa constrictor as her new warden.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
2010- A year in review
HA!! No, I wouldn't do that to you. Even if you're a complete stranger, I would not subject you to a review of my last 12 months. It's not a huge secret that I wasn't a fan of 2010 from the start, and that remained pretty consistent. Alright, look, the year was not without its upswings. That in mind, I'll be generous and say it was a FAIR year. I had some nice visits with friends and family, under a range of circumstances. I watched my kids grow and develop in amazing ways, and in seemingly good health. I managed to live another year in a beautiful place surrounded by beautiful people. But as for the separations, deaths, stresses, and uncertainties of 2010, I have only this to say.... HUMBUG!
So, I'm going to roll with this newfangled calendar year with a jaded acceptance of an often unpleasant reality and a mild dose of hope. 2011 won't be a starry eyed surprise. 2010 left too much of its baggage. But hey. It's not 2010 anymore. That's a start.
In the event you were wondering, I'm not much up to making resolutions. That's not necessarily a life philosophy. I just don't feel I am in a position to resolve much of anything presently. That said, I'll work on stuff, just as I always do, with timely things taking on more timely focus.
My fiery personality needs stoking. Yet, some dear pals are having babies! That means I need to try and be nice sometimes. That's what people are supposed to be around babies.
A bridesmaid's dress awaits me in 2011. Heaven knows I don't have many of those left, so a little more discipline in the physical arena might be smart.
I should probably mop my floors sometime this year. Yeah. That would be nice.
You know, I'd also like to try to get back into writing some more, even if it's just right here in Blogylvania. It's simply not fair of me to keep from enthralling my loyal readers for such large spans of time, don't you think?
I'd kind of like to take up smoking too. It looks like a nice way to break up the tension in a day. But no, that would be yucky and unhealthy and that's a pretty dumb thing to work towards. Maybe I can just take tea breaks that have to be alone, outdoors, so no one else inhales my second hand breakfast tea fumes. Sure, that works.
So, into 2011, come what may.
I wish you a year brimming with life's fullness... and if it turns out to be full of better stuff than mine, then just shut up about it, won't ya?
So, I'm going to roll with this newfangled calendar year with a jaded acceptance of an often unpleasant reality and a mild dose of hope. 2011 won't be a starry eyed surprise. 2010 left too much of its baggage. But hey. It's not 2010 anymore. That's a start.
In the event you were wondering, I'm not much up to making resolutions. That's not necessarily a life philosophy. I just don't feel I am in a position to resolve much of anything presently. That said, I'll work on stuff, just as I always do, with timely things taking on more timely focus.
My fiery personality needs stoking. Yet, some dear pals are having babies! That means I need to try and be nice sometimes. That's what people are supposed to be around babies.
A bridesmaid's dress awaits me in 2011. Heaven knows I don't have many of those left, so a little more discipline in the physical arena might be smart.
I should probably mop my floors sometime this year. Yeah. That would be nice.
You know, I'd also like to try to get back into writing some more, even if it's just right here in Blogylvania. It's simply not fair of me to keep from enthralling my loyal readers for such large spans of time, don't you think?
I'd kind of like to take up smoking too. It looks like a nice way to break up the tension in a day. But no, that would be yucky and unhealthy and that's a pretty dumb thing to work towards. Maybe I can just take tea breaks that have to be alone, outdoors, so no one else inhales my second hand breakfast tea fumes. Sure, that works.
So, into 2011, come what may.
I wish you a year brimming with life's fullness... and if it turns out to be full of better stuff than mine, then just shut up about it, won't ya?
Friday, October 22, 2010
Dicey Territory
The boy and I drove into town today to meet hubby for lunch. Traffic was slower than normal for mid day. I expected the rain had we desert dwellers driving more cautiously than usual. I credited the unauthorized vehicles skidded onto the road median as other traffic contributors. Then I noted slowing by the Air Force Academy scenic overlook, as a brightly painted van proclaimed "NO to Abortion! YES to Amendment 62!" Traffic in the name of politics. Hooray.
For Coloradans, it's a bit like Deja vu. In 2008, it was Amendment 48, where we voted whether or not to define a "person" as a "person" from the moment of fertilization. Amendment 48 was defeated decisively.
With Amendment 62, we no longer need to cast our innocent eyes upon the sexually explicit term "fertilization". Now, according to Ballotpedia.org, we get to decide if we want to define a "person" as "every human being from the beginning of the biological development of that human being." Oh. Okay. Thanks. Because that is WAY different.
Gualberto Garcia Jones, the Colorado Personhood Director, indicated in The Colorado Independent that the change in verbiage from 48 to 62 provides for a more comprehensive definition. Jones stated, "(f)ertilization would not have properly applied to asexually reproduced humans, but even asexually reproduced human beings have a definite biological beginning." Ah! Now I get it! This new amendment would cover the constitutional rights of my spores should I decide I wish to try my hand at sporogenesis. Or maybe binary fission. Gosh, that has ALWAYS looked like a hoot! Why should prokaryotes have all the fun?
Alright, look, I'm not here to try to sway your opinion on any pro-life v. pro-choice issues, or matters of genetic research. Personally, I was raised (yes, even by my shockingly right winged parents) to believe that a woman's body is her own, and any questionable governmental interference there should be avoided, but believe what you will. I'm just hung up on that commute hindering van. Why? On its side, visible to all southbound traffic were the words:
"To kill a child is to kill Christ"
What?! That's a claim and half, made all the more penetrating by the blood-wrought portrait of Jesus, dangling over the words from his crucifix. I found the portrait, the claim, the van, offensive to my senses! It made me want to yell at the top of my lungs, "NO! NO, IT'S NOT!!!"
Putting aside, the key argument (which, fear not, will rear its head again in a moment), I was horrified to see those words. Printed. ANYWHERE, much less roadside, like a flashing marquis advertising $14.99 Snuggies at Walgreens. It was emotion, poisoning philosophical reasoning. I instinctively recoiled.
After the recoil, logic kicked in. IS killing a child like killing Christ? For arguments sake, let's even say a birthed, living, air-breathing, food consuming child. Is killing that child like killing Christ? The murder of Christ was pretty world-altering. Child murder is unspeakably heinous. But... I just can't even bring the two issues side by side.
Why can't I? For me, it comes down to this... I think of Pontius Pilate facing a handful of legally exempt PTO moms, and I think, okay, Pilate has the potential to take some heat. I think of those same PTO moms unleashed on a child murderer and I think, brutal carnal devastation.
So. I see the equation as unequal. Maybe my inner Christian isn't glowing when I say this, but I might see child murder as even a greater offense. Does this prove the Personhood Organization's position that Colorado should pass Amendment 62?
No! Because the question is, what sociological situation dictates that a biological cellular structure or cluster must be removed from the jurisdiction of said cell structure's/cluster's genetic predecessor(s)? when should a 'person' become a viable entity that others can control with more legal power than that 'person's' God-given natural guardian(s)? THAT is the issue at hand... and though I understand there are personal, complex implications for specific religious sects, or for anyone, when it comes to abortion, I just don't see how the definition of a 'person' could imply anyone is presently killing Christ.
It's akin to a comment my sister used to make to me: "Look! Our hair is the same color, because our belly buttons are in the same place!"
Just because a statement appears poignant, it doesn't mean it makes any sense at all, much less has any relevance.
For Coloradans, it's a bit like Deja vu. In 2008, it was Amendment 48, where we voted whether or not to define a "person" as a "person" from the moment of fertilization. Amendment 48 was defeated decisively.
With Amendment 62, we no longer need to cast our innocent eyes upon the sexually explicit term "fertilization". Now, according to Ballotpedia.org, we get to decide if we want to define a "person" as "every human being from the beginning of the biological development of that human being." Oh. Okay. Thanks. Because that is WAY different.
Gualberto Garcia Jones, the Colorado Personhood Director, indicated in The Colorado Independent that the change in verbiage from 48 to 62 provides for a more comprehensive definition. Jones stated, "(f)ertilization would not have properly applied to asexually reproduced humans, but even asexually reproduced human beings have a definite biological beginning." Ah! Now I get it! This new amendment would cover the constitutional rights of my spores should I decide I wish to try my hand at sporogenesis. Or maybe binary fission. Gosh, that has ALWAYS looked like a hoot! Why should prokaryotes have all the fun?
Alright, look, I'm not here to try to sway your opinion on any pro-life v. pro-choice issues, or matters of genetic research. Personally, I was raised (yes, even by my shockingly right winged parents) to believe that a woman's body is her own, and any questionable governmental interference there should be avoided, but believe what you will. I'm just hung up on that commute hindering van. Why? On its side, visible to all southbound traffic were the words:
"To kill a child is to kill Christ"
What?! That's a claim and half, made all the more penetrating by the blood-wrought portrait of Jesus, dangling over the words from his crucifix. I found the portrait, the claim, the van, offensive to my senses! It made me want to yell at the top of my lungs, "NO! NO, IT'S NOT!!!"
Putting aside, the key argument (which, fear not, will rear its head again in a moment), I was horrified to see those words. Printed. ANYWHERE, much less roadside, like a flashing marquis advertising $14.99 Snuggies at Walgreens. It was emotion, poisoning philosophical reasoning. I instinctively recoiled.
After the recoil, logic kicked in. IS killing a child like killing Christ? For arguments sake, let's even say a birthed, living, air-breathing, food consuming child. Is killing that child like killing Christ? The murder of Christ was pretty world-altering. Child murder is unspeakably heinous. But... I just can't even bring the two issues side by side.
Why can't I? For me, it comes down to this... I think of Pontius Pilate facing a handful of legally exempt PTO moms, and I think, okay, Pilate has the potential to take some heat. I think of those same PTO moms unleashed on a child murderer and I think, brutal carnal devastation.
So. I see the equation as unequal. Maybe my inner Christian isn't glowing when I say this, but I might see child murder as even a greater offense. Does this prove the Personhood Organization's position that Colorado should pass Amendment 62?
No! Because the question is, what sociological situation dictates that a biological cellular structure or cluster must be removed from the jurisdiction of said cell structure's/cluster's genetic predecessor(s)? when should a 'person' become a viable entity that others can control with more legal power than that 'person's' God-given natural guardian(s)? THAT is the issue at hand... and though I understand there are personal, complex implications for specific religious sects, or for anyone, when it comes to abortion, I just don't see how the definition of a 'person' could imply anyone is presently killing Christ.
It's akin to a comment my sister used to make to me: "Look! Our hair is the same color, because our belly buttons are in the same place!"
Just because a statement appears poignant, it doesn't mean it makes any sense at all, much less has any relevance.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Cliche Clarity
This tooth fairy business isn't for the weak. I mean.... I guess it's for anybody with a kid, because there is really no escape, and there are lots of ways you can handle it (even for you wimp parents who realized too late that parenthood was going to rock your yellow-bellied invertebrate tendencies- oh wait, that was me). It's kind of... well, tricky and gross-ish. Our Pediatrician won't even look at Abi's loose teeth. They make her squeamish. The woman can deal with all kinds of disgusting baby body habits, but she can't handle wiggly teeth. I don't get it, but you know... she cures infections, so it's a trade off.
Now, truth be told, I'm not squeamish about bodily things, for the most part. Eyes used to be tough for me, but I've overcome that. This tooth thing though, while not stomach-churning, is still really tricky. I am finally getting the new understanding of the cliche, "it's like pulling teeth."
First, the tooth is barely loose, and she wants to wiggle it like crazy. Then it's only slightly more loose, and she wants me to pull it. I grab it, wiggle it. It seems it's still cemented. I offer to punch her to get it out, she laughs at me and I spend the rest of the week dodging the Division of Child Welfare. After a few weeks, it gets truly, legitimately loose. She tells me to pull it, then says she wants to do it. She asks for an ice cube, and wants me to pull it again. I grab hold, and it gives a little, but still isn't ready to come out. For as much as I'm not squeamish, I'm not really sure of the right thing to do. Do I hold tight, and rip at it as hard as i can? Is there any medical issue with that? Haven't yards of string and slamming doors been ripping out teeth for decades? Even if it hurt a little, it might be better than fussing over the unrelenting tooth for days and days on end. Then, if it's unrelenting, is it best to wait until it.... relents?
Okay, it's baby tooth. I understand at some point it will come out. Still! Honestly! Pulling teeth is like.... PULLING TEETH!
I finally soothed the anxious tooth shedding beast by telling her if the tooth comes out at school tomorrow, she'll get a cool little treasure box to put it into and bring home. So the tooth remains for another day. Fantastic.
Now, truth be told, I'm not squeamish about bodily things, for the most part. Eyes used to be tough for me, but I've overcome that. This tooth thing though, while not stomach-churning, is still really tricky. I am finally getting the new understanding of the cliche, "it's like pulling teeth."
First, the tooth is barely loose, and she wants to wiggle it like crazy. Then it's only slightly more loose, and she wants me to pull it. I grab it, wiggle it. It seems it's still cemented. I offer to punch her to get it out, she laughs at me and I spend the rest of the week dodging the Division of Child Welfare. After a few weeks, it gets truly, legitimately loose. She tells me to pull it, then says she wants to do it. She asks for an ice cube, and wants me to pull it again. I grab hold, and it gives a little, but still isn't ready to come out. For as much as I'm not squeamish, I'm not really sure of the right thing to do. Do I hold tight, and rip at it as hard as i can? Is there any medical issue with that? Haven't yards of string and slamming doors been ripping out teeth for decades? Even if it hurt a little, it might be better than fussing over the unrelenting tooth for days and days on end. Then, if it's unrelenting, is it best to wait until it.... relents?
Okay, it's baby tooth. I understand at some point it will come out. Still! Honestly! Pulling teeth is like.... PULLING TEETH!
I finally soothed the anxious tooth shedding beast by telling her if the tooth comes out at school tomorrow, she'll get a cool little treasure box to put it into and bring home. So the tooth remains for another day. Fantastic.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
battling epidemy one hug at a time
Well, school is back in session and cold and flu season is upon us. The children have had their flu vaccinations for the year, so we're all so pleased that there are some strains of something that won't make us as sick as they otherwise could.
Meanwhile, just over a week ago I was informed by a parent at school that her son (in my daughter's class) just returned to school after a bout of walking Pneumonia. Poor kid.
Most of the other kids seem pretty healthy otherwise. Except for one. Abi has been telling me for over a week how someone who sits right next to her has been out for days. She was excited to finally hear news of her friend.
"I found out my friend will be back in school on Monday, Mommy!" I was told early this morning. "I think they said she had the same sick that (the walking Pneumonia child) had."
"You're kidding!?" I said. Visions of a class wide epidemic were dancing in my head. I tried to keep my calm. Chances are Abi won't have been exposed. "Well... Abi, what symptoms did your friend have before she left school sick?"
"Not much," she said. "She was just really cold... so I had to hug her to keep her warm."
Sigh...
But.
We had flu shots.
Meanwhile, just over a week ago I was informed by a parent at school that her son (in my daughter's class) just returned to school after a bout of walking Pneumonia. Poor kid.
Most of the other kids seem pretty healthy otherwise. Except for one. Abi has been telling me for over a week how someone who sits right next to her has been out for days. She was excited to finally hear news of her friend.
"I found out my friend will be back in school on Monday, Mommy!" I was told early this morning. "I think they said she had the same sick that (the walking Pneumonia child) had."
"You're kidding!?" I said. Visions of a class wide epidemic were dancing in my head. I tried to keep my calm. Chances are Abi won't have been exposed. "Well... Abi, what symptoms did your friend have before she left school sick?"
"Not much," she said. "She was just really cold... so I had to hug her to keep her warm."
Sigh...
But.
We had flu shots.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
So, they ARE my children after all!
As I believe is often the case in households such as mine, I find myself telling my husband to follow some basic household instruction again and again and again, wondering why my request doesn't sink in.
My kids... well... they're sometimes a little anal retentive about certain things. Not a lot of things. I like to think they are versatile and well adjusted, but they are also pretty observant, notice details, and sometimes object when things are "wrong". I don't have a clue where they get this trait.... ahem....
Sippy cups. We've found Playtex Insulator Twist and Click cups to be the most reliably leak free. We therefore have a fair selection... a Disney princess one, pink and green flowery one, and at least three of them designed with Lightning McQueen and his Cars buddies. It's all very simple. The pink and green flowery cup gets the green lid, the Cars cup with JUST Lightning McQueen (and no other cars on it) gets the red lid. ALL OTHERS get blue lids. Case closed.
I asked the husband to please see which lid goes on which cup, and please try to abide because if it's wrong, the kids will let me know, and usually make me scramble to make it right. Two or three times I have asked husband to PLEASE get them right.
This week, I found the Disney Princess cup bearing a green lid. I leered at him. "You HAVE to be able to get this right by now!" I said. He leered back at me. It was clear that he was sick of hearing me insist. He didn't say anything, but his look said, "are you really going to make such a big deal about lids on plastic cups? REALLY?"
I looked at him, and cupping my hand fully over the lid of the Princess cup, I walked over to our two year old son, who can barely tell purple from orange.
"Braeden," I said, "what color lid is this cup supposed to have?"
"Blue!" he said.
Walking back to the cabinet, picking up the pink and green flowered cup, I again glared at my husband and fully cupped my hand over the cup lid. I walked back to the boy.
"Brae," I said, "how about this one? What color lid should this one have?"
"Uhhhh... Green!" he said.
Husband's laughter and body language indicated he has relented. I still think I should fire him from sippy sorting duty. It's clear there is a member of the household more suited for this task.
My kids... well... they're sometimes a little anal retentive about certain things. Not a lot of things. I like to think they are versatile and well adjusted, but they are also pretty observant, notice details, and sometimes object when things are "wrong". I don't have a clue where they get this trait.... ahem....
Sippy cups. We've found Playtex Insulator Twist and Click cups to be the most reliably leak free. We therefore have a fair selection... a Disney princess one, pink and green flowery one, and at least three of them designed with Lightning McQueen and his Cars buddies. It's all very simple. The pink and green flowery cup gets the green lid, the Cars cup with JUST Lightning McQueen (and no other cars on it) gets the red lid. ALL OTHERS get blue lids. Case closed.
I asked the husband to please see which lid goes on which cup, and please try to abide because if it's wrong, the kids will let me know, and usually make me scramble to make it right. Two or three times I have asked husband to PLEASE get them right.
This week, I found the Disney Princess cup bearing a green lid. I leered at him. "You HAVE to be able to get this right by now!" I said. He leered back at me. It was clear that he was sick of hearing me insist. He didn't say anything, but his look said, "are you really going to make such a big deal about lids on plastic cups? REALLY?"
I looked at him, and cupping my hand fully over the lid of the Princess cup, I walked over to our two year old son, who can barely tell purple from orange.
"Braeden," I said, "what color lid is this cup supposed to have?"
"Blue!" he said.
Walking back to the cabinet, picking up the pink and green flowered cup, I again glared at my husband and fully cupped my hand over the cup lid. I walked back to the boy.
"Brae," I said, "how about this one? What color lid should this one have?"
"Uhhhh... Green!" he said.
Husband's laughter and body language indicated he has relented. I still think I should fire him from sippy sorting duty. It's clear there is a member of the household more suited for this task.
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