tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53217104387031627142024-03-17T11:32:59.915-04:00My Little Slice of Mommie HeavenFirst time single momma to a great wee one. Academic professional by trade. Sometimes I feel like I have split personalities - come see for yourself.MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.comBlogger424125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-2143734677209938622012-02-04T19:57:00.000-05:002012-02-04T19:57:52.594-05:00The LessonI woke up Friday morning. I knew I had a big day-long meeting, so the night before I had washed a load of nice work clothes (all black) and hung them up. I had my choice of items to wear that were (somewhat) flattering, made me feel (somewhat) attractive and comfortable at the same time, and would be professional enough for said day-long meeting.<br />
<br />
<br />
Upon arising, however, something dawned on me. All of the colleges in my statewide system would be represented at said day-long meeting. All of them. Including the one I where I used to be employed.<br />
<br />
Immediately I was excited and panicked at the same time. I might be seeing people that I used to work with! I could catch up with some old frenemies! But … I weigh 50 pounds more (at least) than I did the last time they saw me (and I was 8 months pregnant then). And you know that thing about when someone leaves everything that is wrong gets blamed on them? I totally know that has happened.<br />
<br />
So … I start getting ready. I shave my legs, I get dressed, I put straightening solution in my hair and start drying it. I straighten my hair, I pick out jewelry and shoes, all the time thinking about my old job. The job I loved, until I didn’t. I job I wasn’t planning to leave, until I did. The job that I very abruptly made a transition from, that included 3 weeks in the hospital and a newborn. “Mixed emotions” doesn’t even begin to cover it.<br />
<br />
I was paying zero attention to my kid. She was watching “Jane and the Dragon” and playing with the cat. I could hear her, I knew she was fine. So I could be absorbed in my “will they think I’m fat” obsession, and my “what if they don’t even talk to me” anxiety.<br />
<br />
<br />
Until I heard a plaintive voice from the other room: “momma, I need help”.<br />
<br />
<br />
I walked into the hallway with makeup half applied and my mascara in my hand. Her door was closed all the way, which is unusual because that usually makes her cry. I don’t see the cat.<br />
<br />
<br />
I try the doorknob. It is locked. I block my first instinct to panic, and head to the linen closet. I pull out the un-bent metal coat hanger, and insert it into the hole in the knob. I’ve done this before. In my old apartment, the door would bang against the wall in the wind and then slam shut, and I was constantly opening it this way.<br />
<br />
Only … nothing. It’s not working.<br />
<br />
Panic rises another notch, but I’m clear headed. This is not a big deal. I check my bedroom door and sure enough, the lock is a thumbscrew lock, not a push-button lock. So I try talking to my kid.<br />
<br />
Honey, do you see the line in the middle of the knob?” “Yes”. “Can you try to turn it so it points sideways?”. (She turns the whole knob.) “Just the middle part” (More turning of the whole knob.) She starts to cry, so I abandon that plan.<br />
<br />
I run to the garage to retrieve a small screwdriver, and begin removing the doorknob. I take out both screws and take off the knob. I have her pull off the knob on the other side (since she had the one attached to the shaft thing.) Then I try sliding the thing in the middle.<br />
<br />
Doesn’t budge.<br />
<br />
Try again. Nothing. <br />
<br />
Great. I have now disassembled the doorknob, half of which is inside the room, and I still can’t get the damn door open. <br />
<br />
Thankfully, my kid is playing and doesn’t seem terribly concerned about it. But the cat is starting to reach out under the door with his paw as if to say “HelLOOOO, we are STUCK IN HERE, get us OOOUUUT”.<br />
<br />
So, I grab my phone. Which has been erratically losing signal, and this seems to be one of those times, so I have to turn it off and back on again. Awesome. <br />
<br />
Meanwhile I go back out to the garage and get the largest screwdriver I can find. I try all kinds of little tricks on the “middle thing” while I turn my phone back on and finally get my dad on the phone. <br />
<br />
His suggestion? Find the biggest screwdriver you can find. Sorry Dad, that’s not working.<br />
<br />
His next suggestion? Butter knife. <br />
<br />
Fucking genius. I managed to turn the “middle thing” and pop the door open like it was nothing with the butter knife.<br />
<br />
I pushed the door open and my kid looked up and smiled. “Hi Mommie!”. <br />
<br />
I went back into the bathroom to finish getting ready. And then I realized the lesson in the event. (OTHER than “remember to not have a thumbscrew lock on the door to your two-year-old’s room”.)<br />
<br />
I had been so preoccupied with the thought of the people where I used to work. What they would think of me now, how they would act toward me, what I would say. When in reality, my life has changed. My priorities have shifted. “This is my life now” floated through my head, and I was grateful for the reminder of what in my life is important NOW. My kid, and my cat, both of whom were safely rescued from the kid’s bedroom.<br />
<br />
I went to the meeting, merely a few minutes late. There was only one person from my previous college, and they were probably a new hire because it was someone I completely didn't recognize. I hung out with some people I've met at my new college and I had as much fun as I could have at this day-long meeting.<br />
<br />
And this morning I bought a new doorknob. One that doesn’t have a lock on it.MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-34310835489600221522012-01-10T18:09:00.001-05:002012-01-10T18:09:33.277-05:00For RachelI have had a very long day (second day of classes). But you know who is about to have an even longer day?<br />
<br />
Rachel Maddow.<br />
<br />
She lives for this stuff. The New Hampshire primary.<br />
<br />
In honor of, I have made one of my favorite cocktails, renamed.<br />
<br />
The original source of this recipe is the Montgomery Inn restaurant in northern Kentucky. When I lived in that area, during a visit by my parents, we went for dinner. I ordered this drink and simply adored it - and I am not really a martini person. They called it the Mandarin Martini, and I asked how it was made.<br />
<br />
I continued to make it long after, and I make different variations as well. This is an awesome drink to keep you cool on a warm summer night. It is definitely one of my fave cocktails. So in honor of my favorite pundit, I bring you ...<br />
<br />
<br />
The <strong>Maddow</strong> Martini<br />
<br />
Equal parts orange vodka and triple sec (can substitute peach schnapps if you don't have triple sec)<br />
Add a splash of pineapple juice, then enough cranberry juice to turn it a little orange<br />
Shake over ice, strain into a martini glass.<br />
<br />
Enjoy! MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-47515494163794821112011-10-09T21:25:00.000-04:002011-10-10T21:29:27.892-04:00Read for the RecordLast Thursday was Read for the Record. Our daycare participated by having a teddy bear and pajama drive, having a 'wear your pajamas' day, and reading the book for the Record: Llama Llama Red Pajama.<br />
<br />
We were totally into wearing our pajamas to school:<br />
<br />
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Those pajamas say "It's Pasture Bedtime" Hahahahahahahaha. That totally cracks me up every time.<br />
<br />
And no, she didn't let go of that stupid plastic phone all morning.MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-13592832137169150372011-10-08T21:12:00.001-04:002011-10-10T21:25:16.234-04:00Light The NightSince moving home, I've joined up with a women's group that includes some ladies I haven't hung out with since high school. One project the group supports is the Light The Night Walk to support Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. So, off the Wee One and I go to support the group and hang with old (meaning, "long time" not that we're all that old) friends.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wearing my Nu Zeta hat</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Never mind, didn't want to wear my hat after all!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohHOjSsEjltYFM8LBthJ6k6uqqjXNwX7R_-qND39h_wpj5R-lr0vKUbCkkfrjS6Qen10TGA2Whne7l1jr4S_SW3sEGqps4fr5XskTevztcyH4nfm_jsGhqv5jX1W4TeoUsX2ZK5FpD9ZB/s1600/100_6548.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohHOjSsEjltYFM8LBthJ6k6uqqjXNwX7R_-qND39h_wpj5R-lr0vKUbCkkfrjS6Qen10TGA2Whne7l1jr4S_SW3sEGqps4fr5XskTevztcyH4nfm_jsGhqv5jX1W4TeoUsX2ZK5FpD9ZB/s320/100_6548.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But I'll cheese for the camera!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Let's go!</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyj_rSjGgfvWPqFPe4uto934IxbY2p4pjHo7DIipgFMlY-9rC6y-yWdvzAAO1AFSzQGUEf_zxycJ6V6OG-C69VBvqXl4Xjj7ae5MfrvTkyyyL0gMo3qMakO5enywFW2CmDYMkz-PBNVcgO/s1600/100_6550.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyj_rSjGgfvWPqFPe4uto934IxbY2p4pjHo7DIipgFMlY-9rC6y-yWdvzAAO1AFSzQGUEf_zxycJ6V6OG-C69VBvqXl4Xjj7ae5MfrvTkyyyL0gMo3qMakO5enywFW2CmDYMkz-PBNVcgO/s320/100_6550.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVdWJQIJVa80p1-7nUS7x1I40BpuQRrAfho8F83In24LpDwdCH7ixhBKdcbIbmnH8lqC10WfEPhNytZA5AWcUsXE7F2LeW206BUrlfQ9WzwhAq8IacciG62Mt5dxPYd8PvszPMzgGQbvte/s1600/100_6551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVdWJQIJVa80p1-7nUS7x1I40BpuQRrAfho8F83In24LpDwdCH7ixhBKdcbIbmnH8lqC10WfEPhNytZA5AWcUsXE7F2LeW206BUrlfQ9WzwhAq8IacciG62Mt5dxPYd8PvszPMzgGQbvte/s320/100_6551.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Babywearing rocks!</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdQj3b7BsV-diMtQfdhRBLPbibyjcUXwLV6EDgYnDlp_5DHzsxpfuM4_yHkNVO_AYkg4vbH2W3IccJRz6y2IKjlzoDoWx8uKmja0VJheyNgf23o93jDtGBkhS3Q2Qs38hKUK0YkaYcnr1F/s1600/100_6554.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdQj3b7BsV-diMtQfdhRBLPbibyjcUXwLV6EDgYnDlp_5DHzsxpfuM4_yHkNVO_AYkg4vbH2W3IccJRz6y2IKjlzoDoWx8uKmja0VJheyNgf23o93jDtGBkhS3Q2Qs38hKUK0YkaYcnr1F/s320/100_6554.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbuzazHeguH46fPpmTheKtgvBBCd27Y6JFkCVg5mccz3oVn48jDsxkJ_3JT5s3j-FdGPyQJ7qUbT4ko4g-kpnXAq6uLODsxidPJP2ULbBpFwdRRMaS62by0pbZAoGVNBc7TNE8gyrv12x2/s1600/100_6555.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbuzazHeguH46fPpmTheKtgvBBCd27Y6JFkCVg5mccz3oVn48jDsxkJ_3JT5s3j-FdGPyQJ7qUbT4ko4g-kpnXAq6uLODsxidPJP2ULbBpFwdRRMaS62by0pbZAoGVNBc7TNE8gyrv12x2/s320/100_6555.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fountains!</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yIzXapTkiTXbwuS-B3XNXo6R_sLBaO0vaurVxdG3e5CwOuAgZJOy-IVm1Um9IiQhJtUJ64t6CmePAXSoQvzcgx55ysLNrq14lxl6uvXln4tcOQm1cx2OaD7YkBreDxc9q6kQw8U2NV2W/s1600/100_6557.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yIzXapTkiTXbwuS-B3XNXo6R_sLBaO0vaurVxdG3e5CwOuAgZJOy-IVm1Um9IiQhJtUJ64t6CmePAXSoQvzcgx55ysLNrq14lxl6uvXln4tcOQm1cx2OaD7YkBreDxc9q6kQw8U2NV2W/s320/100_6557.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ZU2eyxQT_uMdp4HcjfqpeJC0M4dBdxZPfno6djX_1x7gLtxW-nKtRerAbhNqWlFFWBmfzM5OzTjcB7pIixTMbkQFX8_1Sg-A2iWZNMR4kxlh46DknXUUeOgTYoOpP-vuPl4ihvMz-vm3/s1600/100_6558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ZU2eyxQT_uMdp4HcjfqpeJC0M4dBdxZPfno6djX_1x7gLtxW-nKtRerAbhNqWlFFWBmfzM5OzTjcB7pIixTMbkQFX8_1Sg-A2iWZNMR4kxlh46DknXUUeOgTYoOpP-vuPl4ihvMz-vm3/s320/100_6558.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVxqtfpQopbnPJhChyeEFC6lX3RXWCXHZDATMKTXI6BhSh4xuSJ5qglkS1vxwRSY7yar6-iFXx4M_uz09KZFJuK3WitX4HDhwmpWt-s5qvaqWcyJjicqxaPeknyEJawkscHKCRIB646UUa/s1600/100_6560.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVxqtfpQopbnPJhChyeEFC6lX3RXWCXHZDATMKTXI6BhSh4xuSJ5qglkS1vxwRSY7yar6-iFXx4M_uz09KZFJuK3WitX4HDhwmpWt-s5qvaqWcyJjicqxaPeknyEJawkscHKCRIB646UUa/s320/100_6560.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our banner. Obviously the children had quite a bit of input into its creation.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX2q9E7GxV39d_drRbx4KZDHi2YQiFFJrYNkHBwAMws-Kr_pO8JLEvSmblOIJN6iWh3kTsI5dytXJw1i1KKLL9WaNMx2c49vCTqoquhXwXg7BfASUCnAVdiJxq2d9C1aJzyIZ3tzg7q5e1/s1600/100_6561.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX2q9E7GxV39d_drRbx4KZDHi2YQiFFJrYNkHBwAMws-Kr_pO8JLEvSmblOIJN6iWh3kTsI5dytXJw1i1KKLL9WaNMx2c49vCTqoquhXwXg7BfASUCnAVdiJxq2d9C1aJzyIZ3tzg7q5e1/s320/100_6561.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrja8Yzur86Som79-BGYDbi3tU6XZU9FOuUzhW1nK1u-DsKYVJWXFUax7srxXxQAD9epAp-FsL1wuLAs8QdxK0v9GQvb9pvfvieSyicY72y3PUpcDZEOo_NwGXC4fzi5D506YCiBrYxvp4/s1600/100_6562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrja8Yzur86Som79-BGYDbi3tU6XZU9FOuUzhW1nK1u-DsKYVJWXFUax7srxXxQAD9epAp-FsL1wuLAs8QdxK0v9GQvb9pvfvieSyicY72y3PUpcDZEOo_NwGXC4fzi5D506YCiBrYxvp4/s320/100_6562.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Admiring his handiwork.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwV5RVcApR13zzJ3QyZhhC7AJzsmieaOCiTFz5uclqDgSFdIUmyn9twGCwPKTdTqltITw8fqX1E9AZ4yYaH7dK9N87KESXf8CudSkP06krhE5yrIEc7H9B5EQTRXK4zVrApvxY2Q9QsgwJ/s1600/100_6563.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwV5RVcApR13zzJ3QyZhhC7AJzsmieaOCiTFz5uclqDgSFdIUmyn9twGCwPKTdTqltITw8fqX1E9AZ4yYaH7dK9N87KESXf8CudSkP06krhE5yrIEc7H9B5EQTRXK4zVrApvxY2Q9QsgwJ/s320/100_6563.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More friends came to support.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY6lUSpKyNRwBvB7DjpahREo4UXMrxCS1bsxaZQtepER6xD025PjoYnZBtVo_2kaR4RUoOBzkliHk9s6x0CbPZNJ-C8CT7Yd4KRX8NnQSTGd0HSjjXyfrAJh2RVtnC3gis6Ml85oU7qEuO/s1600/100_6564.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY6lUSpKyNRwBvB7DjpahREo4UXMrxCS1bsxaZQtepER6xD025PjoYnZBtVo_2kaR4RUoOBzkliHk9s6x0CbPZNJ-C8CT7Yd4KRX8NnQSTGd0HSjjXyfrAJh2RVtnC3gis6Ml85oU7qEuO/s320/100_6564.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKjS6zB98qokG7mPC1v1hI-bI3ei4PNzwF6XOQaLPGkf9Fxgw491PxXIfd13K8HNJ_U-gVCjqScT1I9NdX3YxvM8_X1fWR3c834HF5Y7ccYc2jPojkjXCOkqvR1FNmgC1fK3HoTtHq1Rfs/s1600/100_6565.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKjS6zB98qokG7mPC1v1hI-bI3ei4PNzwF6XOQaLPGkf9Fxgw491PxXIfd13K8HNJ_U-gVCjqScT1I9NdX3YxvM8_X1fWR3c834HF5Y7ccYc2jPojkjXCOkqvR1FNmgC1fK3HoTtHq1Rfs/s320/100_6565.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the sling.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGWap_74lg3rM03OIkXeIlu38jBlMW6Rj8EpZ6o1mejHER249weu2DpJKxEgKMWoZqMQKdgoEXa30IvJiK_2aGVuft8v838DWyfMDQbzuJx2QDS9ozOAcS9I_-Ym_R1cEPw9SZfPa9VoTb/s1600/100_6566.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGWap_74lg3rM03OIkXeIlu38jBlMW6Rj8EpZ6o1mejHER249weu2DpJKxEgKMWoZqMQKdgoEXa30IvJiK_2aGVuft8v838DWyfMDQbzuJx2QDS9ozOAcS9I_-Ym_R1cEPw9SZfPa9VoTb/s320/100_6566.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The river is so pretty.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTSq7gyP43eIatgRtlTK47yTquMI79RKXOWmApsyFr4fPeFBUe9pX1O1_TMGWYOKMNNBOjzsBFBtXlnxx5kG0QTz_dAxyx0I2lhW9fBKblue0vKjuTV0QiI7pkeRODu7yu7osfalBT61mt/s1600/100_6567.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTSq7gyP43eIatgRtlTK47yTquMI79RKXOWmApsyFr4fPeFBUe9pX1O1_TMGWYOKMNNBOjzsBFBtXlnxx5kG0QTz_dAxyx0I2lhW9fBKblue0vKjuTV0QiI7pkeRODu7yu7osfalBT61mt/s320/100_6567.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Once the sun started going down, we had to bundle up.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>How many shades of pink can I put on a single kid? Let me try ...<br />
<br />
So my kid? Can charm anything off of anyone. She walked up to a woman that didn't speak English and got part of a cereal bar. She then moved on to another group and got a cupcake and a chocolate bar for her smiles and charm. I am SO in trouble with this one.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOJhByla-eqfPCf59uh-q2WhzhXOKDQi8z5BCVs1KT0w1V2mLIerHOrqR2TRJgh08MWarHwdEN3mNbwU3BbAuR6kI9pNoRNTGGYtDLtl-ZuJWjSThRPcXITIZOSwuXjZ9srK0PeRPJ9lYL/s1600/100_6570.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOJhByla-eqfPCf59uh-q2WhzhXOKDQi8z5BCVs1KT0w1V2mLIerHOrqR2TRJgh08MWarHwdEN3mNbwU3BbAuR6kI9pNoRNTGGYtDLtl-ZuJWjSThRPcXITIZOSwuXjZ9srK0PeRPJ9lYL/s320/100_6570.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yay, cupcake.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
So then we walked a couple of miles, went home and had cookies at Jenny's house.MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-44837888444139567502011-10-07T21:02:00.000-04:002011-10-10T21:05:44.023-04:00Her and MeSo how can a kid this pretty ...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-orKc_E3M_zWdbJyT9kvdKjPwHOKvYGHtcAuwbCvcP4f5aYbh8Hjp6xgWi9xE_j4Wa9ou0F7aRCMYvYelnGcy2jdldPn3ObLtA4cKIWZJqUsLsKr5hlVmmhh3kczfLlLTgGBHd_LNFJzF/s1600/100_6539.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-orKc_E3M_zWdbJyT9kvdKjPwHOKvYGHtcAuwbCvcP4f5aYbh8Hjp6xgWi9xE_j4Wa9ou0F7aRCMYvYelnGcy2jdldPn3ObLtA4cKIWZJqUsLsKr5hlVmmhh3kczfLlLTgGBHd_LNFJzF/s320/100_6539.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Come from ... me?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuFv0MwtV76bCI0h0SxfAmG8iI7XkXCn0SLPO_CBDrY8HKs3YI4o4z1bqBNW6HWDGpnzTO5MdPrjlpUJLo57G-6prerWrAxT8pkEatm4gPu-IYkd5-ESCjl0JWXpS4M8QZWC7pSWqIIA97/s1600/100_6540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuFv0MwtV76bCI0h0SxfAmG8iI7XkXCn0SLPO_CBDrY8HKs3YI4o4z1bqBNW6HWDGpnzTO5MdPrjlpUJLo57G-6prerWrAxT8pkEatm4gPu-IYkd5-ESCjl0JWXpS4M8QZWC7pSWqIIA97/s320/100_6540.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVwWG0Yzh5_UhOQC8a0iJDw2EP6LLOxAFbrPDrbgSyksC0j4wt-WV9Ak3tSMy5BU6Q5Jh9U4scgGAMhyphenhyphen4XA2CapBfri30t997pB8VRQOAt4rvn1Qk0JWAk6RlToDINywq_rZRiIK8w4SSF/s1600/100_6541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVwWG0Yzh5_UhOQC8a0iJDw2EP6LLOxAFbrPDrbgSyksC0j4wt-WV9Ak3tSMy5BU6Q5Jh9U4scgGAMhyphenhyphen4XA2CapBfri30t997pB8VRQOAt4rvn1Qk0JWAk6RlToDINywq_rZRiIK8w4SSF/s320/100_6541.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbJackTyG2KyP91vIzB8Q2bLXGjXhXq0BxwvvB9CriJihRsmLEENjHjl2fDjErYAsSU0UWQfNAmkzgK1RCjgiG0LsobG6ntNXX0-gitZWXlP0_7Fbyfevk05bnLTWM_mz2wQ6rCuvKjwgr/s1600/100_6542.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbJackTyG2KyP91vIzB8Q2bLXGjXhXq0BxwvvB9CriJihRsmLEENjHjl2fDjErYAsSU0UWQfNAmkzgK1RCjgiG0LsobG6ntNXX0-gitZWXlP0_7Fbyfevk05bnLTWM_mz2wQ6rCuvKjwgr/s320/100_6542.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Also ... this is what happens when your kid gets ahold of your camera and randomly shoots photos.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ay0EjqwRk_ueOyiB52r5vocK6d8xBu-U3xNjVKY17E9useXFyecyzSwI4CBFzRviCFXjnwyVMkJ6kSqR4ysQN2QT65tTHnxDSZpDygTcqwAWE_j6FCPYmlerFZX1hkdBHCsg8z_UxHxO/s1600/100_6543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ay0EjqwRk_ueOyiB52r5vocK6d8xBu-U3xNjVKY17E9useXFyecyzSwI4CBFzRviCFXjnwyVMkJ6kSqR4ysQN2QT65tTHnxDSZpDygTcqwAWE_j6FCPYmlerFZX1hkdBHCsg8z_UxHxO/s320/100_6543.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-58124961537071296622011-10-06T20:49:00.000-04:002011-10-10T21:00:02.577-04:00Mexican Pizzas<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Continuing <a href="http://blogforfamilydinner.org/">Blog 4 Family Dinners</a> ...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Mini Mexican Pizzas</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Heat up some tortillas.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Put some vegetarian refried beans in a pan with 1/4 c water, heat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxKDM9qlmY-9JBqmKy03bhSCEXwkTMZ4XfbwufSpBLPTF_b2tNt8C9ninTECSn6tmyuklFl8go-gh9PxxGcU5rLB5bscriEuZrZ8lxpEAyKT7O-RFUgrQoxUDlfLTKygFf1CCQzRb3muI/s1600/100_6531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxKDM9qlmY-9JBqmKy03bhSCEXwkTMZ4XfbwufSpBLPTF_b2tNt8C9ninTECSn6tmyuklFl8go-gh9PxxGcU5rLB5bscriEuZrZ8lxpEAyKT7O-RFUgrQoxUDlfLTKygFf1CCQzRb3muI/s320/100_6531.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Chop lettuce, tomatoes, onions.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVaITwcDEAnSCW4iHycKqvjRhPxDVhsFRof-htpCzm1_4ghe9zACspEf2FwsDFnPNQAQh4h-v4kqorlIMEXvY5wsYkxYuyzy-erq7tGugycCSZpgBLRT1LL-cpdcKApHMQQEmAo33e0OM4/s1600/100_6530.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVaITwcDEAnSCW4iHycKqvjRhPxDVhsFRof-htpCzm1_4ghe9zACspEf2FwsDFnPNQAQh4h-v4kqorlIMEXvY5wsYkxYuyzy-erq7tGugycCSZpgBLRT1LL-cpdcKApHMQQEmAo33e0OM4/s320/100_6530.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> Put it all on the table, and let everyone build their own mini pizzas.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Mine:</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21y8JtCd9zfLqMbJvdDxjmxib9tdMKeA4vL7YKtFLU3sDbRiw0muKjTraVHBND4Gygxr5aDEtH2OBEsYCqTqEFDP1uIcI934IbngbeprfNrMb7gNVrLTc0sYJyXuQT2oCeRm4EV0_ceVY/s1600/100_6533.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21y8JtCd9zfLqMbJvdDxjmxib9tdMKeA4vL7YKtFLU3sDbRiw0muKjTraVHBND4Gygxr5aDEtH2OBEsYCqTqEFDP1uIcI934IbngbeprfNrMb7gNVrLTc0sYJyXuQT2oCeRm4EV0_ceVY/s320/100_6533.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">My kid's:</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzKvjoCNCT-sUEMhPo0Itv6W672z3BAwTy8TW7btgDHwcUZVUvvPrfCj7Myi-82VGKo7GCCspWMjLv_JfJIraZabr4D23ytmgTy17y9n08thk7I4FsxGzLdfqSn5BE4D25vlPF02RWmI6L/s1600/100_6536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzKvjoCNCT-sUEMhPo0Itv6W672z3BAwTy8TW7btgDHwcUZVUvvPrfCj7Myi-82VGKo7GCCspWMjLv_JfJIraZabr4D23ytmgTy17y9n08thk7I4FsxGzLdfqSn5BE4D25vlPF02RWmI6L/s320/100_6536.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mmmm ....</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMaMoscVoKZfWosskKbD4OQa1vVIa-oC2h6lq0DwKvAfw8-m3qTV9yLI_8jK0FX1nIzF2TkBF0NXd2c5EQ8qjtjzdlzvS4QvYHIohN4PmGU31VP6kiJeElmEf5sP_qeZcDGpjbRnt5ddM6/s1600/100_6537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMaMoscVoKZfWosskKbD4OQa1vVIa-oC2h6lq0DwKvAfw8-m3qTV9yLI_8jK0FX1nIzF2TkBF0NXd2c5EQ8qjtjzdlzvS4QvYHIohN4PmGU31VP6kiJeElmEf5sP_qeZcDGpjbRnt5ddM6/s320/100_6537.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I ate all mine ..<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTvR7V3NhrYPy6U9VWKFrLMlWCtFrYmfSSKosJKCWII-MDPTqBhyphenhyphenMGyVgRqez4o7h6RKp7C35XqDFv8ybl9JlPOkTz1s1m1iXT6p1W-9VoknPP48-5jZkl2-32Xdu7ErFqCak2fHzQa0hf/s1600/100_6538.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTvR7V3NhrYPy6U9VWKFrLMlWCtFrYmfSSKosJKCWII-MDPTqBhyphenhyphenMGyVgRqez4o7h6RKp7C35XqDFv8ybl9JlPOkTz1s1m1iXT6p1W-9VoknPP48-5jZkl2-32Xdu7ErFqCak2fHzQa0hf/s320/100_6538.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">So, my kid didn't really seem to like this as much as she likes the Italian dishes. She even asked for pasta in the middle of this dinner. I ended up pulling out some leftovers and heating them up for her, since she wasn't eating this much at all.</div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">Meanwhile I ate the rest of hers .... maybe it will require multiple tries before she likes mini mexican pizzas. ..</div>MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-21828193781519492812011-10-04T18:31:00.002-04:002011-10-04T21:34:20.977-04:00The Legend of LilyI learned a lesson about a year back. I learned that it is not a good idea to celebrate your successes with sleep training by bragging about it on the internet. In the <a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-was-feeling-self-satisfied-until.html">comments of a post</a> (<strike>which I apparently cannot find</strike> I freaking found it, yo!), a dear, adorable friend of mine birthed the Lily Legend (see <a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-was-feeling-self-satisfied-until.html?showComment=1282044965146#c4089577940350145669">Serifm's comment</a>). She mentioned that every time I talked about "The Universe" overhearing my bragging about how well my kid was doing, she imagined Lily Tomlin in her big chair.<br />
<br />
"Lily" was born.<br />
<br />
Lily has become a legend when<a href="http://www.funkymamabird.com/2011/07/lilys-revenge.html"> we mothers</a> whisper about our sleep successes. When the sleeping falls apart, we are quick to pay due homage to Lily in the hopes that she will once again help our children to sleep blissfully through the night.<br />
<br />
So imagine how stoked I am that <a href="http://leisurelydomestic.blogspot.com/">Serifm</a> and I are going to see Lily in the flesh tomorrow evening to celebrate a birthday. Yaaaaaaaaay!!!!! (and I hope my kid still sleeps when I get home!)MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-60311455497470504192011-09-28T21:18:00.000-04:002011-09-28T21:18:16.976-04:00Mini PizzasBlog for Family Dinner continues ... Tonight was Mini Pizzas!!<br />
<br />
So today was kindof rough for both of us. I've been really tired and run down lately, and she is getting over Fifth Disease. I did the minimum amount possible for my day, and picked her up from daycare while she was still asleep on her cot. We watched alot of Caillou and SuperWhy when we got home, curled up on the couch under a blanket.<br />
<br />
On the phone with my mom, she talked about what she was making for dinner. Hey, we can expand family dinner to include Nan and Grandpa, right? That still counts, doesn't it? So I asked my kid if she wanted to go to Nan's and have dinner.<br />
<br />
No. <br />
<br />
She didn't. She seems to like dinner at home in our dining room almost as much as I do! I <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/MommieV1/status/119135346914111488">tweeted</a> about it, and got a reply from <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/blog4famdinner/status/119166114847662080">Blog 4 Family Dinner</a> - apparently it is common for the kids to get on board with Family Dinner early on. Yep, that's my girl.<br />
<br />
Anyway, so here's what I made: Mini English Muffin Pizzas<br />
<br />
On a baking sheet, I put a sheet of parchment paper. It was supposed to help clean-up, which it did for the most part. Except the cheese that escaped off the side.<br />
<br />
On the parchment paper, I put english muffins cut side up. I managed to fit exactly one package of muffins on the baking sheet. I am a rock star.<br />
<br />
Then I turned to chopping toppings. (Ha!) I had a package of gourmet sliced mushrooms from Whole Foods that I chopped using my chopper. (Pampered Chef, not Slap Chop. I hate that guy.) Also, a bunch of garlic. Then some green onions. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGELcB26I6OuHjYlHQAP1xxFiX9Cm_W1x7IOaBVQ3FzqCsm7mn_6wVkwy5Qr67aaZaLCTwfKjS_BBbeKD_glYdy7Ha3zbDNld6AJEnyuBxmx7kpRM-ynLTvT_cjTy92mTdEoXBVxY-_l-o/s1600/100_6526.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGELcB26I6OuHjYlHQAP1xxFiX9Cm_W1x7IOaBVQ3FzqCsm7mn_6wVkwy5Qr67aaZaLCTwfKjS_BBbeKD_glYdy7Ha3zbDNld6AJEnyuBxmx7kpRM-ynLTvT_cjTy92mTdEoXBVxY-_l-o/s320/100_6526.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
On the english muffins, I put some spaghetti sauce, the stuff that was left over from Monday night. Then I put the chopped vegetables, then I put some cheese. Shredded cheese. Bake 350, 10 minutes or so. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbhAqnqy77KoNHMGUvfBhDJzpeuuQAMVO9FR89UFtFq_6_TNPQnHgdjfkBNAkgh5mVkrjHnNnQYcGnBqEGJeg6pKMzwP9ewXZLelIsUbNnuLNoB1dMthbqDNyRzvwmAAjgZikk0kKe-z4m/s1600/100_6525.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbhAqnqy77KoNHMGUvfBhDJzpeuuQAMVO9FR89UFtFq_6_TNPQnHgdjfkBNAkgh5mVkrjHnNnQYcGnBqEGJeg6pKMzwP9ewXZLelIsUbNnuLNoB1dMthbqDNyRzvwmAAjgZikk0kKe-z4m/s320/100_6525.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqYmxDe5a8AEz3uKkrQ2irDcC1iKSOXcGJgT6k0Fvlijy6pcZQTXlf6jMcMhO5dqUtbT6eeMcLemUFVvGpOZ9_tGs4LumZUUubM-XpcKUT2I800k__SZ3tu0kjVnacPLvzhtt7Qi0jJY05/s1600/100_6527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqYmxDe5a8AEz3uKkrQ2irDcC1iKSOXcGJgT6k0Fvlijy6pcZQTXlf6jMcMhO5dqUtbT6eeMcLemUFVvGpOZ9_tGs4LumZUUubM-XpcKUT2I800k__SZ3tu0kjVnacPLvzhtt7Qi0jJY05/s320/100_6527.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Eat.<br />
<br />
(Sorry for the sideways photos.)<br />
<br />
If I had it to do over again, I would bake them without the cheese for about 10 minutes, then add cheese and bake until it melts. The garlic and onions needed a few more minutes in the heat. Also, I thought about rubbing the muffins with a garlic clove before topping, but I didn't want to take that time. If you only want a little garlic flavor, that might be a better route rather than adding it chopped. If you like the garlic, tho, the chopped method tasted yummy. But beware - about an hour after eating, my dad freaked out because my kid smelled like garlic. (He watches too much CSI - he mentioned selenium poisoning. Freak.)<br />
<br />
Nan declared them delicious. Everything that we eat that my kid likes, she wants to take some to Nan. Nan wasn't complaining, tho!MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-73092877824985299322011-09-27T21:02:00.000-04:002011-09-27T21:02:57.005-04:00For My MomHey Mom, remember when we went to IKEA in July? And you found a kitchen that you really loved? And you asked me to take pictures of it with my cell phone? So you could show my dad? And then you haven't heard anything else about it? Well, yell for Dad, because here's the kitchen:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYgFI9EbomD_t4VLHTa5YFq1Mcoe1F7SUqMz8IJadBQAec6QGPAEcT9Gh4PkXNIWdCb2NUpbVb0O1Of6ETKNcdppMWaC3wE580gHjGODCeP3RqmoazhMvKKANbwfTQ3ZSYQZB6-BPTw_GS/s1600/Ikea4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYgFI9EbomD_t4VLHTa5YFq1Mcoe1F7SUqMz8IJadBQAec6QGPAEcT9Gh4PkXNIWdCb2NUpbVb0O1Of6ETKNcdppMWaC3wE580gHjGODCeP3RqmoazhMvKKANbwfTQ3ZSYQZB6-BPTw_GS/s1600/Ikea4.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjJsyJk-GHzDzwiZsEwJQtDt4KxLsWTxtBZrX6pC-DKUHmHbsmbCfeTv130csXN8fo3i7W4Wf47rMwWCxkGh9VAqGeub5aEofp4W7TP-rjCCBInhFP0pSQIHJw8yLH7qoVY-onUTYsLIPt/s1600/Ikea3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjJsyJk-GHzDzwiZsEwJQtDt4KxLsWTxtBZrX6pC-DKUHmHbsmbCfeTv130csXN8fo3i7W4Wf47rMwWCxkGh9VAqGeub5aEofp4W7TP-rjCCBInhFP0pSQIHJw8yLH7qoVY-onUTYsLIPt/s1600/Ikea3.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxFsrDge53I-WY8YOYReMFKvOOlQ0H8vAGvGRxxhAbNoKJx6zYFTb7bL1v_xmSZso4RYbEwjHN1WuzSGW9v773sOce6KscboIjl_58fq7rrSpP0-o4BGt60auH2ToR_GbZj5X_THKlC-3/s1600/IKEA2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxFsrDge53I-WY8YOYReMFKvOOlQ0H8vAGvGRxxhAbNoKJx6zYFTb7bL1v_xmSZso4RYbEwjHN1WuzSGW9v773sOce6KscboIjl_58fq7rrSpP0-o4BGt60auH2ToR_GbZj5X_THKlC-3/s1600/IKEA2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhOcUQdXd0dsIEVNSgzJg2I4XFpi9Z8zzUmWPBeUY8YESfwt7_IqaWZ60zrsv6vJP9fMmv4G2ERjeMsjxDm_Z4ZAYs-kOr5qYEvI_kKiXE8tOlJd2uCUthmq53tngRJLFkIVMijFBCtuU/s1600/Ikea1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhOcUQdXd0dsIEVNSgzJg2I4XFpi9Z8zzUmWPBeUY8YESfwt7_IqaWZ60zrsv6vJP9fMmv4G2ERjeMsjxDm_Z4ZAYs-kOr5qYEvI_kKiXE8tOlJd2uCUthmq53tngRJLFkIVMijFBCtuU/s1600/Ikea1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have no idea who these people are. But they wouldn't get out of the damn way for me to take the photo.<br />
So here they are.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-8726276822016490202011-09-26T18:24:00.000-04:002011-09-26T18:24:29.911-04:00Family Dinner Night 2: Ravioli and SauceThis isn't what I had planned to have for tonight's dinner, but the kid said "ravioli" so many times that I changed my mind!<br />
<br />
Also: being exhausted helped lean the decision toward "simple dinner". And simple definitely describes this dinner:<br />
<br />
Boil some water<br />
Open the package of ravioli<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigoAmFQfDrogjhAyKzSfsX0MPml3UCisOXbEm6aJFzMIdRvOJjiNlxpDN2jNlPOCJplnzkFbyTtskes2sTGFEkc3uOKR3k-MWL_5gVXxy9_w0nP2TBXFNu9-NFl4k_XCXCEhKIHcoL7-Zk/s1600/100_6521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigoAmFQfDrogjhAyKzSfsX0MPml3UCisOXbEm6aJFzMIdRvOJjiNlxpDN2jNlPOCJplnzkFbyTtskes2sTGFEkc3uOKR3k-MWL_5gVXxy9_w0nP2TBXFNu9-NFl4k_XCXCEhKIHcoL7-Zk/s320/100_6521.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Dump into the water<br />
Boil for about 5 minutes<br />
Drain<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, open a jar of sauce, dump into a pot, warm up while the pasta cooks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTOEo6o3mi9hOdu61OD5sn3aQirAaaA6qUXGNjLhftosR0BRTgQbPxxPeaSN0Lu6inEqKJEf8WKL1OOcDLZ1sEdokZxUOrY-nH9xOr__-tNGjzOIB-20RQwNGreabmcEoZ-EX1ml0vUul0/s1600/100_6523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTOEo6o3mi9hOdu61OD5sn3aQirAaaA6qUXGNjLhftosR0BRTgQbPxxPeaSN0Lu6inEqKJEf8WKL1OOcDLZ1sEdokZxUOrY-nH9xOr__-tNGjzOIB-20RQwNGreabmcEoZ-EX1ml0vUul0/s320/100_6523.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
An aside: I love oregano. When I was in grad school, I made a roast for a boyfriend and smothered it in oregano. It was awesome. So whenever I make anything with spaghetti sauce, I love to add oregano.<br />
<br />
My father? Hates oregano with a passion. He can taste the tiniest amounts of oregano in a dish. Often he will go ahead and eat it, and with a pouty look mention that it has oregano in it. You know, just enough to make you feel bad that he's not enjoying it.<br />
<br />
The last time I bought spaghetti sauce I bought some "garden herb" variety. One evening I ended up throwing together an impromptu spaghetti dinner for my kid and my parents, and my dad was forced to eat spaghetti sauce containing oregano. So when I was shopping this weekend, I made sure to get something plain, like tomato and basil, in case my dad ended up eating with us.<br />
<br />
So tonight when I decided to switch to the "ravioli and sauce" plan, I decided that since my dad wouldn't be eating with us, that I could spruce up the sauce a bit. I chopped some garlic and sauteed it in olive oil, then added some sauce, and also added some oregano from the garden.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAondQUay0A5uT2HvjdCN9UThK_McubKgMNRer5WTnIQVw47P3G5IDriV7Lm6AHpRP2RqNFYEwGQCXB_tvHiW19FDvCMVH2o54iVYNZjaU6ONseOnTDYUs8GSYFuQuevuwKs9tb8qqRZxR/s1600/100_6524.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAondQUay0A5uT2HvjdCN9UThK_McubKgMNRer5WTnIQVw47P3G5IDriV7Lm6AHpRP2RqNFYEwGQCXB_tvHiW19FDvCMVH2o54iVYNZjaU6ONseOnTDYUs8GSYFuQuevuwKs9tb8qqRZxR/s320/100_6524.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Oh, and we topped with some shredded mozzarella cheese. Yummy. And more good conversation with my kid. <br />
<br />
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But I'm still tired ...MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-17901345409883376002011-09-25T20:50:00.000-04:002011-09-25T20:50:52.786-04:00Family Dinner Month Day 1: Conchiglie with Peas<a href="http://blogforfamilydinner.org/">Blog For Family Dinner</a> month (use #B4FD as the Twitter hashtag) <a href="http://blogforfamilydinner.org/634-ready-get-set-go-b4fd-family-dinner-month-starts-sunday-9-25-11">starts today</a>. I've started following lots of folks who talk about family dinner, feeding families well, kid-friendly meals, etc. So I started to see the #B4FD info in my timeline.<br />
<br />
We are doing really well with <a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/p/project-veg.html">Project Veg</a>. Between the <a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/2011/05/cookbooks-and-tomato-coulis-ie-project.html">cookbook my friend Jenny loaned me and the one she gave me as a Christmas gift</a>, we had been doing pretty well. But with starting back to my semester and trying to single handedly run a household into the ground, it's usually just easier to head down the street to my mom's for dinner.<br />
<br />
I've been feeling a little down and overwhelmed lately. I think it's mostly hormonal, and I have a doctor appointment scheduled. don't worry. But I've been trying to think of little things I can do that will help me to feel better, and to better deal with the stress of ... everything I have going on.<br />
<br />
So when I started thinking about Family Dinner Month, I realized that I really like the idea. Honestly, I am incredibly excited about the idea of my kid and I sitting down together to dinner every night for a month at our dining room table, to a meal that I cooked for us. Don't get me wrong, I'm very grateful for the nights my mom cooks dinner for us. Also, my parents will probably join us for a number of our meals this month, and I'm sure we will end up at their house for a few meals also. It just feels like this is one thing that I can do that I enjoy (I love cooking) that will help me bond with my kid, take good care of her, relax at the end of a long day, and be something that I can feel like I have some control over.<br />
<br />
I didn't realize that last part until I was discussing it with my mom. In the middle of explaining to her that I want to try to do meal planning and eat more dinners on our own or at least at our dining room table, I started talking about how overwhelmed and out-of-control I feel sometimes, and this is one thing that I feel like I can have (or would like to have) more control over.<br />
<br />
So, this morning my mom took the Wee One to church to see Jesus (every time you say "church" she says "I go see Jesus") and I made a list of menus, went to Whole Foods, cleaned out the fridge, put groceries away, washed all the dishes .... then took a nap with my kid. (Hey, I said I was overwhelmed, leave me alone).<br />
<br />
So here was our dinner tonight, the first night of Family Dinner Month, inspired by the kind folks at Blog For Family Dinner.<br />
<br />
The inspiration for this meal came primarily from a recipe in The Mediterranean Vegan Kitchen (the cookbook that I <a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/2011/05/cookbooks-and-tomato-coulis-ie-project.html">previously <strike>copyright violated</strike> talked about here</a>) called Conchiglie with Green and Black-Eyed Peas, Pearl Onions, and Basil. Only it ended up being more like Conchiglie with Green Peas, Garlic, and Oregano. The other influence for the recipe was<a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/garlic-butter-sauce-i/detail.aspx"> this recipe</a>.<br />
<br />
So here is how it was made. Easy peasy (sorry, I had to).<br />
<br />
In a big pot, boil salted water for the pasta. When a rolling boil, add pasta. Remember to look at the time for a ballpark on when your big pot of pasta will be done.<br />
<br />
In another pan:<br />
Put some olive oil in the pan.<br />
Add some chopped garlic and stir.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjZRUUiDOBntUk1HnkJFS8r9GyWMyltbUREF5N4ISbZ3tCWO5eGUP_trxcIOqzUN0lyVPYvinGKrPL_ZxYgj7uifUVxX2vNevLL_azNU4L4U59CV9E_YtTuB59Eh44QVDLOn_YtZqAQEBc/s1600/100_6497.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjZRUUiDOBntUk1HnkJFS8r9GyWMyltbUREF5N4ISbZ3tCWO5eGUP_trxcIOqzUN0lyVPYvinGKrPL_ZxYgj7uifUVxX2vNevLL_azNU4L4U59CV9E_YtTuB59Eh44QVDLOn_YtZqAQEBc/s320/100_6497.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Oh, yea, remember to turn on the burner! (I told you this was how I made it!)<br />
After it gets up to temp and you notice it has started sizzling, add 1/3 cup of butter and some frozen peas. Stir periodically until the butter is melted and the peas look thawed.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja2NWsXwh3QuMqxaQuSfA7wJuQ3nm_NcsENSbYU4HoQPbg8qceYOgIp1OtkH5HP1vpCnxqKyMfgwgBU38eP_nTQ8MJeMQfCWIV5TxiBKamVDCVamL5V6nCWVsnU4BzrRszip8RLEUeUoCt/s1600/100_6502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja2NWsXwh3QuMqxaQuSfA7wJuQ3nm_NcsENSbYU4HoQPbg8qceYOgIp1OtkH5HP1vpCnxqKyMfgwgBU38eP_nTQ8MJeMQfCWIV5TxiBKamVDCVamL5V6nCWVsnU4BzrRszip8RLEUeUoCt/s320/100_6502.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Meanwhile, head out to the garden to clip some oregano. Garden? Why yes, I do have an herb garden (okay, ignore the great big weed in the middle. Most of it is herbs, anyway.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydGuVTlyPV0yu9S4f9TR1v0uc3hAQTpGbKSCTX97Uq-BH8z1S6_gfXAwY7ulBC3vZE0RCAeYN0db1y3W-m5r0KvLY4LtwgfXWX-9f6lVWmIaaEsf0A-unCgiR-rYR6VImTAHY26ctwKYQ/s1600/100_6499.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydGuVTlyPV0yu9S4f9TR1v0uc3hAQTpGbKSCTX97Uq-BH8z1S6_gfXAwY7ulBC3vZE0RCAeYN0db1y3W-m5r0KvLY4LtwgfXWX-9f6lVWmIaaEsf0A-unCgiR-rYR6VImTAHY26ctwKYQ/s320/100_6499.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Chop a few leaves of the oregano and add to the peas/butter/garlic stuff.<br />
Keep warm on lo heat until the pasta is done.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinpkDKw66KN5pbAfZLXrSPVoxE6hH7YkbpILPKgL9NiwbWJCLisWbXxJBOTJGTtgm87wOzKUiUa3XLGBWG4Lg5o8obVs-4QjG3ovJKl1TUEoMeUnN1sxvIsrk9bhEjN6q5X0JhLkNK3ffA/s1600/100_6503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinpkDKw66KN5pbAfZLXrSPVoxE6hH7YkbpILPKgL9NiwbWJCLisWbXxJBOTJGTtgm87wOzKUiUa3XLGBWG4Lg5o8obVs-4QjG3ovJKl1TUEoMeUnN1sxvIsrk9bhEjN6q5X0JhLkNK3ffA/s320/100_6503.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
As I learned on Food Network, put the pasta in the sauce and let it finish cooking and soak up all the flavors in the sauce.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZhOAuZzgRJgDlBsfjPn4guXgnKE7Hfd8seNQUOXEjEzqCY4GTui36AdwMA5frCNdDvYZxRWJw3Nt5jm4v-fhDQ1Gj_zIE08JNESPQRltAXapdgQcwcNMtZQqz5AprJfzYml-hRyVGUukI/s1600/100_6504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZhOAuZzgRJgDlBsfjPn4guXgnKE7Hfd8seNQUOXEjEzqCY4GTui36AdwMA5frCNdDvYZxRWJw3Nt5jm4v-fhDQ1Gj_zIE08JNESPQRltAXapdgQcwcNMtZQqz5AprJfzYml-hRyVGUukI/s320/100_6504.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>It was very yummy. The toddler enjoyed it immensely. Even more than the dish, I enjoyed a quiet conversation with my kid. First she told me I was a lion and she was spaghetti. Then she was a lion (I don't know what I had become, I was too busy enjoying her lion roar). I found out that her favorite food is ravioli, but I think that's just her favorite food to say. She does love her some peas, and crammed them into her mouth by the fistful. <br />
<br />
After finishing dinner, she wanted to visit her Nan and Grandpa so that Nan could try the dish. We wrapped up the leftovers on a Dora plate and took it to Nan to try. Nan scarfed the whole plate down and declared it delicious, much as we had done.<br />
<br />
So Day 1 of Family Dinner Month was a smashing success: simple, healthy, toddler-friendly meal. Bonding conversation with my kid. Couldn't have a better evening at home.<br />
<br />
Also: Aveeno Calming Baby Bath with the lavendar scent really helps get the smell of chopped garlic off your hands. That's my hint for the day.MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-59039639966527039332011-09-24T20:54:00.002-04:002011-09-25T21:48:15.032-04:00Third Day of PreschoolWhen dropping off the kid one morning, the daycare director offhandedly said "you're going to hate me but: I'm going to move your daughter to a new room". I thought she meant like "for the day" but no, she meant ... ANOTHER TRANSITION.<br />
<br />
Why yes, <a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/2011/02/t-minus-19-hours-and-counting.html">yes</a> we did just move from Twos I to Twos II in February. Why <a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/2010/11/transitions.html">yes</a>, that was after moving from Toddlers to Twos I last October BEFORE SHE WAS EVEN TWO.<br />
<br />
Again, the director wants to keep <a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/2011/03/green-day.html">The Clique</a> together. Again, she's in a bind because there is a large group of children ready to move into the Twos rooms, and she has an empty preschool classroom, so it's a workable solution. Wee One will have (YET AGAIN) a new primary caregiver, but other than that, not much will be different. New room, new person, same group, same .... <br />
<br />
Yea.<br />
<br />
So they took "field trips" to the new room. Which has a large climbing apparatus with a loft, so all the kids loved the new room and had no issues. Remember, my kid is a freaking rock star, and I'm the one with major transition issues.<br />
<br />
Then Shermageddon happened, and I was concerned about traffic for Monday morning. My college had not issued any statements or information to students, so I ended up posting announcements on Blackboard/email and Twitter, and trying to plan my life so I wouldn't be the loser that showed up late to class after telling my students they better not show up late for class. I was worried about having fall clothes clean for the cold snap that came out of nowhere, and the exams I would be giving that week, etc.<br />
<br />
So I dropped her off at daycare, knowing she would be in her new room, but thinking that "everything else" was staying "the same".<br />
<br />
Turns out ... that was my kid's First Day of Preschool.<br />
<br />
I pick her up to find no care sheet filled out for her (normally I get something like this that says when she went potty, napped, ate, etc).<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZF5TMmluWB1juz3Wxo7EmQYA25LDYKxAYdKvsaKPpKWJYsx8YBOZ9k0csNhF74iLzia9dyzz4L3qbFYC2NRz1RpPVmK_ghhislBAY5L_sMFBd_YHoTRZJ4IIdJ9jd8hXfTxQOqEK6PQq8/s1600/100_6178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZF5TMmluWB1juz3Wxo7EmQYA25LDYKxAYdKvsaKPpKWJYsx8YBOZ9k0csNhF74iLzia9dyzz4L3qbFYC2NRz1RpPVmK_ghhislBAY5L_sMFBd_YHoTRZJ4IIdJ9jd8hXfTxQOqEK6PQq8/s320/100_6178.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the first one she brought home with no potty accidents. Yay!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Instead, we received a general "Today" sheet that described how now they each have a job (Wee Ones is to pass out cups at meal/snack times), how there are "stations" in the room and the friends are learning that there can only be a certain number of people at a station at one time, how the friends were learning to use the computer, and there will be Show and Tell on Friday.<br />
<br />
Also, with our Today Sheet came ....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_txKCM8xPc_ScpOBkKzJX3fBt1rpBlOoTDqof89zJVY-2ix1RSA8f-S3ZOPCz3LnV_LWjdgDxw2-s5ky7Mff1LKKDPp5vvIhAIiLpisezzgn75sUdxg1k_W84F6iYLWk7Wa1sgGelTsD/s1600/100_6490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_txKCM8xPc_ScpOBkKzJX3fBt1rpBlOoTDqof89zJVY-2ix1RSA8f-S3ZOPCz3LnV_LWjdgDxw2-s5ky7Mff1LKKDPp5vvIhAIiLpisezzgn75sUdxg1k_W84F6iYLWk7Wa1sgGelTsD/s320/100_6490.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh7x1b6VEbC0g-VMoG_UEdPuFORuxgh56iT3nTCMCC3xkgHjaPZVcVikTh9rneLbiJy58TiTNZNmZrb2jwq3ntB1YwtjSj5esNetlbnYDOopQsryM3VEmQ5Y_TKAuevXP2ywPeEFXqIWOJ/s1600/100_6491.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh7x1b6VEbC0g-VMoG_UEdPuFORuxgh56iT3nTCMCC3xkgHjaPZVcVikTh9rneLbiJy58TiTNZNmZrb2jwq3ntB1YwtjSj5esNetlbnYDOopQsryM3VEmQ5Y_TKAuevXP2ywPeEFXqIWOJ/s320/100_6491.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The Preschool Newsletter, complete with a welcome for all the friends transitioning to preschool. Complete with a back page about tips for "students". Gah.<br />
<br />
Wha ... what? Um ... ah ... uh ... wha...????<br />
<br />
On Tuesday when I picked her up and had no idea when she'd slept, how much she had eaten, only that she'd had a potty accident, I realized that "everything else will be the same" was really code for "we are transitioning your kid to preschool and not really telling you so you won't freak the fuck out about it".<br />
<br />
The only problem with that?<br />
<br />
Most people know when their kid is starting preschool. They can take pictures "First Day of Preschool, look how cute!" They can mentally prepare themselves to transition from the world of "daycare", which is all about eating, pottying, and sleeping, to the world of "school" which is all about learning to be an independent person in the world. <br />
<br />
Wednesday, I took my camera with me to drop-off. So here I document my kid's Third Day of Preschool.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPEnuerRZi3GvSGAlCSDQaK9ImcUhrJMFOYuLPNJp1jX4k5orLMlwSZ_C0aADlYUWsAIs0AzUnN6POf7zu1SQIXbIPaMz7FRw5DY8sZ_s470cFSnwmmiNQTWN-607-BVCMKh3ai6ZQpK06/s1600/100_6435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPEnuerRZi3GvSGAlCSDQaK9ImcUhrJMFOYuLPNJp1jX4k5orLMlwSZ_C0aADlYUWsAIs0AzUnN6POf7zu1SQIXbIPaMz7FRw5DY8sZ_s470cFSnwmmiNQTWN-607-BVCMKh3ai6ZQpK06/s320/100_6435.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the car on our way to the Third Day of Preschool</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn-2KQmggPXZ73N9hVSd_bXazKloWIm_71ftCV1MelK_DWG61qwfYopNHKja2zWzOYhoiKEnuZWmUSIxXiMC0W97VldlKJoHPFGSqmUMoM2jUL8bCNtyDc9BmuV-_1qJhtOKH6jBx5UKa2/s1600/100_6438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn-2KQmggPXZ73N9hVSd_bXazKloWIm_71ftCV1MelK_DWG61qwfYopNHKja2zWzOYhoiKEnuZWmUSIxXiMC0W97VldlKJoHPFGSqmUMoM2jUL8bCNtyDc9BmuV-_1qJhtOKH6jBx5UKa2/s320/100_6438.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Standing by the fishtank at the Third Day of Preschool</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi98FpCT_fifzHJV9rmS3KH9jhLAjHfQlXt5pNXG6On7FhxIZ_PQAjU6Ff4-Jb4Fk08FyYR4M_4g_K-innez43yKeEVBRIKG5kiXOc24raH2kfEA_zXn0CpxaW-O1DgE_HxWYnjyBo9OGEa/s1600/100_6439.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi98FpCT_fifzHJV9rmS3KH9jhLAjHfQlXt5pNXG6On7FhxIZ_PQAjU6Ff4-Jb4Fk08FyYR4M_4g_K-innez43yKeEVBRIKG5kiXOc24raH2kfEA_zXn0CpxaW-O1DgE_HxWYnjyBo9OGEa/s320/100_6439.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, yes, everything is JUST the same</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOugyqaTH6oJygMtbGKryKe-2DzrgIz03H7xaAMvkixCFlWKQOcLQQ6RsiJDpgDRa6SUcVISLj2zwakqSUHh1qSANVuO9m4_49Inchodp1HYCUcCe_By3QsjcdkWewucTQaNhzjyYxDXKU/s1600/100_6440.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOugyqaTH6oJygMtbGKryKe-2DzrgIz03H7xaAMvkixCFlWKQOcLQQ6RsiJDpgDRa6SUcVISLj2zwakqSUHh1qSANVuO9m4_49Inchodp1HYCUcCe_By3QsjcdkWewucTQaNhzjyYxDXKU/s320/100_6440.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because she's always had a "job", right?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2NySPeW_wE46qKSXWOKZ0Y3jsQtljHjJyQ-iOm_lp0W0ckilNI2KybyduHBpcCErEcMrXhdXCJJQODV3c3A_HVO3oTk4rqhB2stFsr-gnFhwJe5jotTwFKeMmBY_Gwl6Nfp4uq8ybD7ND/s1600/100_6441.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2NySPeW_wE46qKSXWOKZ0Y3jsQtljHjJyQ-iOm_lp0W0ckilNI2KybyduHBpcCErEcMrXhdXCJJQODV3c3A_HVO3oTk4rqhB2stFsr-gnFhwJe5jotTwFKeMmBY_Gwl6Nfp4uq8ybD7ND/s320/100_6441.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I guess Cup Passer Outer isn't grammatically correct</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Monday, September 12, 2011, my kid started preschool. She's not even two-and-a-half. But of course, she's doing great.MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-25898527387243893922011-09-22T20:44:00.001-04:002011-09-24T21:00:45.124-04:00Riverboat Taxi, Day TwoWe decided to try the riverboat taxi again. One because my kid thought it was fun, and two to continue to support it. It costs them somewhere over $800 to run the thing, and they are only charging $1 a trip to roughly 50 people in the mornings and up to 100 people some afternoons. As POTUS said, "it's math".<br />
<br />
I brought my real camera this time, so no out-of-focus cell phone picture. Nope, not this time.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge21Hbi90AHklOpcegmUZhSKholASee7-L7qQc8Cu3ieVtLHi2XnA3FtbkvbZIo5dXWvDMtcAi58zrc4u0KyQ5GR3ruvxs0XWhUpfkJ_TbHLTFdMWPugg0Lj-wlw21oBIH6e8Bv4wVgvPE/s1600/100_6454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge21Hbi90AHklOpcegmUZhSKholASee7-L7qQc8Cu3ieVtLHi2XnA3FtbkvbZIo5dXWvDMtcAi58zrc4u0KyQ5GR3ruvxs0XWhUpfkJ_TbHLTFdMWPugg0Lj-wlw21oBIH6e8Bv4wVgvPE/s320/100_6454.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Except maybe for this one ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeDX70TC_CQgC6Y8BE1DRqUJVc3EZnRIBL2L-5jxgbQeg2Mu9V4QyiwFPwZ3vDW1ojUf1h3qM5QxmZXglCm4PWK0rRbmpFy6WWmpC9HmjtLzjgJIO-jiMy9A-8fdhvJFMFwOJJAoClnQoN/s1600/100_6457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeDX70TC_CQgC6Y8BE1DRqUJVc3EZnRIBL2L-5jxgbQeg2Mu9V4QyiwFPwZ3vDW1ojUf1h3qM5QxmZXglCm4PWK0rRbmpFy6WWmpC9HmjtLzjgJIO-jiMy9A-8fdhvJFMFwOJJAoClnQoN/s320/100_6457.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Less scared on this trip.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
We took the earlier riverboat trip, which meant we were at the trolley stop before the trolley started running. I had the sling with me this morning, so I could have worn her in a carrier - which would have helped the 8 block walk to her daycare. But we had some time, so I decided that we would wait for the trolley.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8rjHRIYPoDjyCme2pkPEq_BmrQza7RgO8Fkt69QaiH0GrZqfLDayQ4qeupSczZA6ewLQgBOaBCoB5ZyPaOACpbjEZWSnrrGKqzO-YjCOpGhniC7DkzL_KiIcnsJLs1EX1jwbhoD2qAgg3/s1600/100_6459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8rjHRIYPoDjyCme2pkPEq_BmrQza7RgO8Fkt69QaiH0GrZqfLDayQ4qeupSczZA6ewLQgBOaBCoB5ZyPaOACpbjEZWSnrrGKqzO-YjCOpGhniC7DkzL_KiIcnsJLs1EX1jwbhoD2qAgg3/s320/100_6459.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting at the trolley stop.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMwHSqEWxJPTUTgmdptcTXotZZLyP3J-u0Zxx3opW5wD1bRD7TnIhyWjJpzcBcq7lN8YhFmkO7p6BSANPkqE3NFfiiVB6J5xn6VurqZ1R2lk50_TG5qOJ5NxVEeLHHZUtH3j6vKxOFLwq7/s1600/100_6460.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMwHSqEWxJPTUTgmdptcTXotZZLyP3J-u0Zxx3opW5wD1bRD7TnIhyWjJpzcBcq7lN8YhFmkO7p6BSANPkqE3NFfiiVB6J5xn6VurqZ1R2lk50_TG5qOJ5NxVEeLHHZUtH3j6vKxOFLwq7/s320/100_6460.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And by "waiting" I mean "running in circles singing Ring Around The Rosies"</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinwcaIMzATDTkKrXJ_d008jfaClMrj6_zOXfX3Q7FLvWIEs40TowYWiZ4abHNMJTM82j1cTYz8l9aGmca0BldeOUAb-f6nQVjg-c3rFIa8zTuzuKH_xIjYPxYoLg3qWgvL4oGArbR5xRXy/s1600/100_6462.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinwcaIMzATDTkKrXJ_d008jfaClMrj6_zOXfX3Q7FLvWIEs40TowYWiZ4abHNMJTM82j1cTYz8l9aGmca0BldeOUAb-f6nQVjg-c3rFIa8zTuzuKH_xIjYPxYoLg3qWgvL4oGArbR5xRXy/s320/100_6462.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She decided she was cold, so we dug her jacket and Babylegs out of her bag.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ZAhvwKbxIVKflP5WdOMrLGtv2miFjZBFFAn4QvCCvbdUSH874T2U-aB0B1ToNBZ3GvqmUOJTQjewtj6BCyoy6zvV_XGo4zGBgVX-V5E_QPYydRwyq3hd56ta7SqZaF8tXHmD_fRii7vK/s1600/100_6464.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ZAhvwKbxIVKflP5WdOMrLGtv2miFjZBFFAn4QvCCvbdUSH874T2U-aB0B1ToNBZ3GvqmUOJTQjewtj6BCyoy6zvV_XGo4zGBgVX-V5E_QPYydRwyq3hd56ta7SqZaF8tXHmD_fRii7vK/s320/100_6464.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the trolley.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
After dropping her off, I walked the four blocks to campus to teach my classes. I felt all smug for using public transportation that day, until I remembered that I had made an appointment with a student at my Downtown campus office - 7 blocks away. So I walked to the DT campus, then walked to fetch her from daycare. A healthy 15 block walk - when I'm used to 0. So the bones of my lower body were quite glad that I had foregone the morning walk up 4th street.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ5Quj9WVDF18x144wARHkLw0YVj2n4DKN-rqMdXGgBr9flAOCQRNqPuDsV-eAghZ3DQMPZAJ9VMTXrT5BQCmNmAiBm7Btqgq5UezbJrJ3_z_agtYkHQo0yHfUK6gq6-1TD_YTO6nCopC5/s1600/100_6465.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ5Quj9WVDF18x144wARHkLw0YVj2n4DKN-rqMdXGgBr9flAOCQRNqPuDsV-eAghZ3DQMPZAJ9VMTXrT5BQCmNmAiBm7Btqgq5UezbJrJ3_z_agtYkHQo0yHfUK6gq6-1TD_YTO6nCopC5/s320/100_6465.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too Cool For School</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuODu4ke6dLjmBJoMTV1EKV0mTuq89W9_h2L_mpNrW-NX7f0ggwEVw6wDOPIJMJN5I1kh5nTi8DqeRHYUwFqdMadFgzruTHj_fmoSiUCZlLiVJZ-c-JIVyjVLRkN1BupUOl_QYfrU3S7g0/s1600/100_6466.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuODu4ke6dLjmBJoMTV1EKV0mTuq89W9_h2L_mpNrW-NX7f0ggwEVw6wDOPIJMJN5I1kh5nTi8DqeRHYUwFqdMadFgzruTHj_fmoSiUCZlLiVJZ-c-JIVyjVLRkN1BupUOl_QYfrU3S7g0/s320/100_6466.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why yes, she is wearing a Dora dress, a Dora jacket, and carrying a Dora backpack. What?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhOSyZ3a2-k5M7pSazuNSLHWAQdGvJqLzB_UZOEDuwO2ollXOoZzrYyfdhaVGPOJv74TZfH3lMetTzhwDJYE6aJZ9V3_QNBRtet64aXviu4aRyXiSKtWabXI5n9-oe1-X1IhAB-S1vSiOd/s1600/100_6467.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhOSyZ3a2-k5M7pSazuNSLHWAQdGvJqLzB_UZOEDuwO2ollXOoZzrYyfdhaVGPOJv74TZfH3lMetTzhwDJYE6aJZ9V3_QNBRtet64aXviu4aRyXiSKtWabXI5n9-oe1-X1IhAB-S1vSiOd/s320/100_6467.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting on the trolley.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKBreT8GUbPq_80VWCtkynTdPg3s69ikyWIwOZQ0Lnra0QvS7YkdRbi7fWGCNa8KciXEKjooEo6ZzMhyBrHYn0XygvXVBUqOwIZE3B0kHSOH31VFJhiiTYw_bEWTxB-qM0DvOhgkRZ_go1/s1600/100_6468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKBreT8GUbPq_80VWCtkynTdPg3s69ikyWIwOZQ0Lnra0QvS7YkdRbi7fWGCNa8KciXEKjooEo6ZzMhyBrHYn0XygvXVBUqOwIZE3B0kHSOH31VFJhiiTYw_bEWTxB-qM0DvOhgkRZ_go1/s320/100_6468.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In all of it, I didn't have a pic of the actual, you know, TROLLEY.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbz8WTplpKpwVHt6KCLfYKHHROMY9Qfapg2WvP59skqeiG4R-pjMlqaPYC4tanmkV9KNI6mPA37NaDsKTxquQo_ZpFTkNm1YzKwYYyND2auBi0oNgnbYcsWo4fIS4t4PhT-_l6yY0NJwgc/s1600/100_6471.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbz8WTplpKpwVHt6KCLfYKHHROMY9Qfapg2WvP59skqeiG4R-pjMlqaPYC4tanmkV9KNI6mPA37NaDsKTxquQo_ZpFTkNm1YzKwYYyND2auBi0oNgnbYcsWo4fIS4t4PhT-_l6yY0NJwgc/s320/100_6471.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riverboat!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqUrWL0LDtt6ucch67lohMyO_VSTFjocQmwRbp-O9hQSGfoUPq9I2N7yIbDoSDO4OopYfRtJlFmHsPasH_Vv3EtmYDafeYfj86NJoYKQiRjvH0l876ewIE2pct1IZOfyqB0DJYpeqJ7w55/s1600/100_6472.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqUrWL0LDtt6ucch67lohMyO_VSTFjocQmwRbp-O9hQSGfoUPq9I2N7yIbDoSDO4OopYfRtJlFmHsPasH_Vv3EtmYDafeYfj86NJoYKQiRjvH0l876ewIE2pct1IZOfyqB0DJYpeqJ7w55/s320/100_6472.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Safely back home again in Indiana.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO7ZH6rNqp06a9L7Jdyi-2gwwEQJhg6BwkkU0EO79dSDBiDFeyoSR821ngLhtgZ7b8gOF9MOfWrEMFNeCh7FYwyjrvIsH2VZ7Wq8Gtda_6yI_fx7cokcgQKn8Ql2q8jLWC4mwyi4kAw175/s1600/100_6476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO7ZH6rNqp06a9L7Jdyi-2gwwEQJhg6BwkkU0EO79dSDBiDFeyoSR821ngLhtgZ7b8gOF9MOfWrEMFNeCh7FYwyjrvIsH2VZ7Wq8Gtda_6yI_fx7cokcgQKn8Ql2q8jLWC4mwyi4kAw175/s320/100_6476.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bye Bye Riverboat</td></tr>
</tbody></table>They are only going to run the riverboat for another week. It actually isn't that helpful for the problems that exist with traffic. The Sherman Minton bridge doesn't usually carry Jeffersonville commuters, it carries New Albany commuters and those coming down from the Knobs and points north. The locks separate the New Albany riverfront from the 4th Street Wharf where the riverboat docks, so the boat can't actually service the people that are affected by the bridge - at least not conveniently.<br />
<br />
But I'm glad they gave it a try, and I'm glad we got to try it out. <br />
<br />
The first post on the riverboat taxi is <a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/2011/09/over-river-and.html">here</a>.MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-9363395114060333232011-09-20T10:03:00.000-04:002011-09-20T10:03:00.239-04:00I'm Sortof Related to a Famous Japanese Movie Starwho unfortunately just found out that the grandfather we share was not, in fact, a <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Tadanobu-Asano/108067125881144?sk=info">Navajo from Kentucky</a>.<br />
So, you know that show about famous people finding out who they are related to?<br />
<br />
Yea, my dad was totally on one of those. <br />
<br />
In Japan.<br />
<br />
From the time I was born, my paternal grandmother was married to the man I considered to be my grandfather. He was actually a step father to my dad and uncle, but he was my Grandpa. I am the only child on that side of the family, so I was basically spoiled. <br />
<br />
Apparently, however, before Grandpa married Grandma, he was stationed in Japan, where he had a wife and a daughter. The daughter had two sons, one of whom is the Famous Japanese Movie Star mentioned above (he was also in Thor, so he's a movie star here too).<br />
<br />
So we got a call from my uncle who was contacted by the producer trying to research the story for this show. He had tracked my uncle down because he was the executor of my grandfather's estate. He relayed this story to my uncle in an email, and my dad joined in the email conversation.<br />
<br />
A Japanese film crew came to my parents house to film an interview with my dad and also to film the wallet my grandfather carried. Until the day he died, he carried with him a picture of the daughter he left behind in Japan.<br />
<br />
In July my dad went to London, where Tadanobu is filming a movie, to film the rest of the TV show. The producers didn't tell Tadanobu or his mother, Junko, that my dad and uncle were coming. The producers filmed them watching the interviews with my dad, and with some of my grandfather's other family. Then they surprised them by bringing in my dad and my uncle.<br />
<br />
Family history and family ties are very important in the Japanese culture, and they were very very pleased to meet my dad and my uncle. I had supplied my dad with plenty of photos of the Wee One to take, and they thought she was very cute. Junko, my father's step sister, sent gifts home for her.<br />
<br />
We have a copy of the show they televised in Japan. Much of what Tadanobu and his mother say is in Japanese, so we are getting that translated. It's interesting to have family that you never knew about. I'm glad that they were able to find the questions about my Grandpa that they were looking for.MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-86163380018009231482011-09-19T10:01:00.001-04:002011-09-24T21:00:12.960-04:00Over The River And ...... up 4th Street.<br />
So, if any of you have been following my Twitter stream for the last week, I have basically given away my super secret location of where I live. <br />
<br />
Friday, September 9th while getting ready to take the kid to daycare, she had a potty accident. When pulling off the wet undies, I noticed ... blood. Just a little. Just a very very little. But put together with a string of accidents at daycare (usually after naptime) and my kid having to pee alot, and I was concerned that it was a sign that something was wrong.<br />
<br />
I called the doc's office on the way to daycare and made a late afternoon appointment. Took the kid to school, took myself to work, taught a lab, etc. Picked up the kid, and headed to the doctor. To get there, we drove across the river. What's interesting is how vividly I remember the drive across the Sherman Minton bridge that afternoon. The sun was shining and glinting off the water, there was a barge coming down the river, the bridge afforded a beautiful view. Just one of those ordinary moments that you remember in hindsight.<br />
<br />
Because the hindsight is ... almost exactly two hours later they closed that bridge because it was dangerous and on the verge of collapsing. They had found cracks in the steel in some key structural supports that THURSDAY (yes, the day BEFORE I drove over that bridge with my kid in the car).<br />
<br />
My first reaction was to be shocked that they closed the interstate and the bridge. My second reaction was to be mad because I felt like we could have been in danger. (I mean, it's so bad they are limiting the number of contractors on the bridge at any one time. And there I was, in my car ....). My third reaction was to realize that all those people that take that bridge to get to work in the morning would add to an already congested bottleneck that occurs when all of Southern Indiana commutes to the other side of the river every morning.<br />
<br />
It's been termed Shermageddon, because for the people that used to take that bridge, it literally is. They sit in their cars 2 to 3 hours every morning, on three different interstate highways, to get across a bridge. I'm lucky, because I live to the east of the main interstate. I drive down close to the river, and jump on the local access bridge at the last possible entry point to avoid sitting in that long line of people coming from the North and West. They have redirected the traffic pattern on the local access bridge so that instead of two lanes in each direction, there are three lanes headed south for the morning commute. So if I leave at a decent time, it's only added about 15-20 minutes to my normal commute. (Until Friday 5pm, that was pretty freaking awful).<br />
<br />
So why the hell did I take a riverboat to work today?<br />
<br />
Well .... <br />
<br />
I guess it's because of my kid. And the novelty of it. After the first two days of heavy traffic last week, one of our local riverboats decided to begin ferrying people across the river during rush hours. For $1 each way. I wanted to support the riverboat taxi. And for $1 I could take my kid on a quick riverboat ride across the river. Wouldn't that be a fun way to get to work?<br />
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So this morning, we wake up early. It's raining, of course. It can't be nice and sunny like it was all last week for our commuting adventure. No, it's pouring down rain. But I'm convinced this will be a fun thing to do. So I put on my raincoat, and one of her jackets, and dig out the umbrella. We are ready to go.<br />
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When we park the car, I get all of the above back out of the car, and realize: I forgot the sling. I have no toddler carrier. (Mothers in the know will now groan in empathy.) We are due to get on the boat at that exact moment, so I yell, "run!" to the little kid and we take off toward the dock. My version of "run" is slightly different than her version of "run", so I attempt to carry her on my hip. Over a slippery raincoat. While carrying my bag, her bag, and our umbrella.<br />
<br />
The lovely riverboat people waited for us. We paid our $2 (I don't think they were going to charge me for her, but I wanted to support the riverboat. And it's $1. And they waited for us.) and climbed aboard. They pulled away from the dock and my kid's eyes got as big as saucers. And stayed that way almost the whole trip.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HeC2QOeh22Y/TndIY491KPI/AAAAAAAACag/6x9-IzWbC1c/s1600/2011-09-19+08.18.01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HeC2QOeh22Y/TndIY491KPI/AAAAAAAACag/6x9-IzWbC1c/s320/2011-09-19+08.18.01.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just a little scared.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
We stood by the window and looked at the river. We passed underneath the bridge that we normally drive across. It was a very quick ride, but for someone who loves riverboats (me! me! me!) it was a really cool little jaunt across the river.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b-hAKHbi2rE/TndH4mX36nI/AAAAAAAACac/ptuDG7tEYgM/s1600/2011-09-19+08.20.08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b-hAKHbi2rE/TndH4mX36nI/AAAAAAAACac/ptuDG7tEYgM/s320/2011-09-19+08.20.08.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The only photo I took that is actually in focus.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
Once arriving on the other side, we started climbing steps to get to the trolley stop. The public transportation system maintains trolleys as buses that provide local access to some downtown spots (like my kid's daycare) for free. So the last leg of the journey would be the trolley. To get to the stop: steps, and more steps.<br />
<br />
Hey, guess what, I learned something today. Those steps are right next to (and below) the interstate. Which means that when a large truck drives through a large puddle, the only place for the water to go is over the side, and down onto whomever is walking up the steps. Fantastic design, engineers!<br />
<br />
We get to the top of the steps as the Trolley is ready to drive away. Thankfully, I have a cute, kid, so I waved to the driver and she opened the doors and said "I can't leave a baby behind!". The kid LOVED the trolley. So much so that twice in the 8-block ride she said "I like a trolley!" and made everyone laugh. We signaled our stop, and the driver asked if we were headed to the daycare, and dropped us off right at the door (saving a half-block walk).<br />
<br />
She hit the doors telling everyone who would listen that she took a boat and a trolley to get to school. It saved us NO time in the long run, I look and feel like a drowned rat, and was then faced with another 3-block walk to get to my office. But it was worth it since it seemed to be such a neat experience for her.<br />
<br />
If it's raining again tomorrow, we'll drive the bridge. It hasn't been adding that much time and stress for us, and I can at least arrive at work looking presentable. I think the riverboat taxt would really help if they could pick up in New Albany and not in Jeff. The Jeff folks don't need that much help - if you can get to the dock you can get to the local access bridge and that's not where the delay is. It just saves them some parking. The New Albany folks are the ones who are stuck, a riverboat taxi would help them much more. But it would be a longer distance for the boat, and I don't know what the parking and docking situation is there.<br />
<br />
So they don't get to have the fun that we had this morning on our way to work!<br />
<br />
Better photos of our Day Two trip can be found<a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/2011/09/riverboat-taxi-day-two.html"> here</a>.MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-8352939053138621622011-09-18T21:11:00.003-04:002011-09-24T21:05:08.648-04:00Why I Haven't WrittenI got writers block. And download-the-pictures-from-the-camera-block. But mostly?<br />
<br />
I-don't-want-to-brag block.<br />
<br />
Because you see, my kid pretty much potty trained herself overnight, leaving me no time to write angsty posts, develop a plan (like I did for <a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/2010/05/plan.html">sleeping</a>), show you photos of all our cute cloth training pants, tell you about the amazing invention that got her to pee on a public toilet, or rant about the books that I found to be unhelpful.<br />
<br />
So ... what else was there to write about? Other than "hey, my kid woke up one day and started using the potty and ... well, that's about it."<br />
<br />
I originally started this blog to be a scrapbook of sorts. Actually, I lie. I started this blog to get extra entries in free cloth diaper giveaways. Seriously, now the cat is out of the bag. But then I decided it would be a good scrapbook, and a way to get feedback on some of my crazy thoughts. I didn't want it to be one big giant bitch session, and that's kindof how I thought it was going. So I took a vacation.<br />
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But I miss blogging. Sure, I miss bitch sessions. But I also miss sharing crazy events in our lives, too. If only to have them someplace where my kid can be <strike>humiliated by them</strike> enjoy reading them later in her life.<br />
<br />
Besides, I am taking a riverboat and a trolley to work tomorrow, and I know I'll have alot to say about that.<br />
<br />
Added: I finally got the photos downloaded off the camera, so I am writing posts like a mad woman. Also, I am breaking a cardinal rule of blogging - I am backdating posts. So that I don't go looking for the photos of my kid at the zoo in July and can't find them - because they weren't posted until the end of September. Unethical blogging? Possibly. So shoot me.<br />
<br />
So if you want to catch up on all the new posts, start with July 19th and work your way forward.MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-21606386017317110312011-09-07T21:34:00.001-04:002011-09-24T21:37:15.199-04:00Walking to Nan and Grandpa's: Grocery Cart Editions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig15T9ozDy095vrCY1bXnRLy90X60bU56n5C3Ue-JGSuZv2wF7pOXycCNrbP9e9_GEj4p9Sq51WqARk5qidGEz_ZPKXBRI6N2_Y_Vuc7i5dNR9m95axkLipOp2GAIxB3Vd3MypRbQBeREd/s1600/100_6255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig15T9ozDy095vrCY1bXnRLy90X60bU56n5C3Ue-JGSuZv2wF7pOXycCNrbP9e9_GEj4p9Sq51WqARk5qidGEz_ZPKXBRI6N2_Y_Vuc7i5dNR9m95axkLipOp2GAIxB3Vd3MypRbQBeREd/s320/100_6255.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtokoBXGCQSpQxXTRKihA4Hx7Nc-2dazAp9Wryzf3n_90D1Yi-AnlqQ6FeB0oRdpWSqTDb1CCVorfRq5TGHQxYNQreRTSuOvrJ6_OPobeZL2ey1kD6v-8WwFxwpeiyJXAv_NxAqat8xAxK/s1600/100_6256.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtokoBXGCQSpQxXTRKihA4Hx7Nc-2dazAp9Wryzf3n_90D1Yi-AnlqQ6FeB0oRdpWSqTDb1CCVorfRq5TGHQxYNQreRTSuOvrJ6_OPobeZL2ey1kD6v-8WwFxwpeiyJXAv_NxAqat8xAxK/s320/100_6256.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxjiWf_v3TcNjO0pl_TM1ixhlPbQx9RckENZedzc4dsuVk6BUAzD9ZUW-KouDy0EqEi_-g24VAF0aU1r8V8IX7vIJigoVf15yDZklOpMHoH-i3YFhWqFw4P_z60GYoqaTTWt0To-GUB1D/s1600/100_6420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxjiWf_v3TcNjO0pl_TM1ixhlPbQx9RckENZedzc4dsuVk6BUAzD9ZUW-KouDy0EqEi_-g24VAF0aU1r8V8IX7vIJigoVf15yDZklOpMHoH-i3YFhWqFw4P_z60GYoqaTTWt0To-GUB1D/s320/100_6420.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-37548949576746677792011-08-30T21:09:00.001-04:002011-09-24T21:19:06.077-04:00Just Generally Cute ShitAKA Random Summer Photos I Just* Downloaded From My Camera<br />
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*(and by "just" I really mean "September 24")MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-57012813367847068842011-08-21T21:31:00.001-04:002011-09-24T21:33:54.394-04:00Walking To Nan and Grandpa's: F--K It's Hot EditionYou know it's really damn hot when you walk outside and your camera lens fogs up on you.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoiB9qIC_If9SRgKp0qGEyAEW2uAoH9bJd6YhZGwEq14dDyvb5Mo0CQqr-MXBQLRMvYttauwZOyUxc4GisRMDEhV8YmB2tc6nwncGvYD2EUdAzb4JUNpawfkEbRfTrxJ3Qp6m4e03rx3hj/s1600/100_6193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoiB9qIC_If9SRgKp0qGEyAEW2uAoH9bJd6YhZGwEq14dDyvb5Mo0CQqr-MXBQLRMvYttauwZOyUxc4GisRMDEhV8YmB2tc6nwncGvYD2EUdAzb4JUNpawfkEbRfTrxJ3Qp6m4e03rx3hj/s320/100_6193.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-45632916438813844582011-07-20T20:31:00.001-04:002011-09-24T20:43:35.767-04:00Two By TwoA good friend of Nan's has 8 grandchildren, varying in ages from getting ready for college to starting solid foods. One of the activities this friend does with one of her younger grandchildren is a summer program at the zoo designed for two-year-olds and a caregiver. My mom couldn't wait for the summer the Wee One turned two so they could enroll in Two By Two At The Zoo.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to go, Day 1</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for pickup, Week 2.By then we had received our special too-big shirt to wear.</td></tr>
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</div> So, after a couple of weeks, the novelty wore off for my mom. She had conflicting plans, so the third week Grandpa and Mommie took Wee One to Two By Two.<br />
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</div> After we did the program and saw some animals, we did some sightseeing around the zoo. Which mostly consisted of posing for photos.<br />
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The last week had too many time conflicts - I was back at work for fall semester, and Nan had something come up. But Wee One seemed to really enjoy her summer trips to the zoo.MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-65259523345945870242011-07-19T22:05:00.001-04:002011-09-24T20:30:37.766-04:00MotivationPotty training is going spectacularly well. The advice that worked for us was "wait until she's ready" and "use non-food rewards".<br />
<br />
I had bought a bunch of Dora stickers for the Dora-themed birthday party that we had. They never really got used, and got put away in a bag. So when the books said find "special" stickers for potty training, I dug them out.<br />
<br />
The Wee One saw them and went nuts. She totally wanted one of those stickers. In fact, the first morning that we were "training" she got mad when she'd sit on the potty and not get a sticker. I had to make up a rule that if her pants stayed dry she could get a sticker, just to have something to give her stickers for.<br />
<br />
It totally worked. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nTjqP0vuICg/Tn5qi1Shu5I/AAAAAAAACbE/OXcZ8ztHgmI/s1600/2011-07-26+09.57.34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nTjqP0vuICg/Tn5qi1Shu5I/AAAAAAAACbE/OXcZ8ztHgmI/s320/2011-07-26+09.57.34.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<br />
This sticker chart came from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fisher-Price-Very-Potty-Book-Girls/dp/0061450103/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1316910355&sr=8-1">a book</a> that we ended up with (Target $1 rack, I believe). When we first started trying, I hung it up and made a big deal about getting stickers. She got little stickers for sitting on the potty at first (since she really didn't want to do it). But she wouldn't pee on the potty. Then she'd have an accident 5 minutes later in her training pants. The one time she leaked some pee on the potty I went nuts with the praise and she thought I was a lunatic. She wanted to put her sticker on the chart, but I was trying to be all anal about "this box means today and so put it in this box".<br />
<br />
After two half-days of the no-potty-then-accident rerun, I shelved potty training. But I left the chart up (what else was I going to do with it)? So when she announced, a week ago Thursday, "I go pee pee in the potty", we had all the tools ready for the positive reinforcement. She wanted to put the sticker on herself, and I managed to talk myself down from my anal retentiveness to let her put it wherever she wanted, instead of in the box that I decided means "today". I think that gave her a little bit of sense of ownership about her stickers.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMp2t5F-nMtfSClaLCKxvNazcx0G0eewjyt5-efr9J_436kV8IDJGILJJJ_GkOFgupsx9hnhU6uJadIHlvNMysw5pdPyP8hLcLcD-Y_SK0B73MYMZH_nvLQVSFtiZyEPmIHH-mmuTIRxN/s1600/100_6173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMp2t5F-nMtfSClaLCKxvNazcx0G0eewjyt5-efr9J_436kV8IDJGILJJJ_GkOFgupsx9hnhU6uJadIHlvNMysw5pdPyP8hLcLcD-Y_SK0B73MYMZH_nvLQVSFtiZyEPmIHH-mmuTIRxN/s320/100_6173.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3gAh97aYZRttN2ay7qV3XjmQPPJtMmKne6ShHopmS8bWIzuwXxeaoKdlvH0Lw7aHozq2T0m1As5oLScACIDy0s6YcMEjlI61N3ddXpE13SzSUurjs58UzEn3yVu4DGc2WZPkZikZt_tHg/s1600/100_6174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3gAh97aYZRttN2ay7qV3XjmQPPJtMmKne6ShHopmS8bWIzuwXxeaoKdlvH0Lw7aHozq2T0m1As5oLScACIDy0s6YcMEjlI61N3ddXpE13SzSUurjs58UzEn3yVu4DGc2WZPkZikZt_tHg/s320/100_6174.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yea, see, my OCD did NOT do well with this!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqnYh-lg5qFjSUUWzL007nTtsrREvwtIVcBnAhG9fFLWGHb8Q3znWl1vAqGi-AEeGXXKlU0dWvjG8UipLBi7XYxvHjCnUUeQfszjIzYEQV61aCJ_hhZiMfIVHEa8EtlTxmZDpahsuj1Hkp/s1600/100_6181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqnYh-lg5qFjSUUWzL007nTtsrREvwtIVcBnAhG9fFLWGHb8Q3znWl1vAqGi-AEeGXXKlU0dWvjG8UipLBi7XYxvHjCnUUeQfszjIzYEQV61aCJ_hhZiMfIVHEa8EtlTxmZDpahsuj1Hkp/s320/100_6181.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sticker chart at Nan's house.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
When spending the day at Nan's in the middle of training, we just printed out a piece of paper with her name on it and stuck one on each of the bathroom doors. So then the randomness of the sticker placement didn't matter (as much).<br />
<br />
A pediatrician I follow on Twitter (@SeattleMamaDoc) posted that she had success with her kid waking up dry and peeing in the potty first thing (how freaking awesome is that?). She wrote a <a href="http://seattlemamadoc.seattlechildrens.org/potty-training-reward-chart-glory/">blog post</a> about using sticker charts as positive reinforcement.<br />
<br />
Probably because they seem to work!<br />
<br />
The other motivation that developed was my mother and I dancing around like idiots singing a high-pitched "you pee peed in the potty! you pee peed in the potty!" that got termed "the potty dance". The three of us dancing around and singing that song makes my kid smile, so that was also positive reinforcement for using the potty. So, you know, whatever works.MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-29603370351531264672011-07-18T19:28:00.001-04:002011-07-18T21:00:49.693-04:00I Made A Magic MountainAnyone who follows my Twitter stream has figured out that I watch The Rachel Maddow Show most weeknights. Like most fangirls, I also contribute to the online conversation about the show, using the #maddow hashtag.<br />
<br />
A couple of weeks ago (<a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26315908/ns/msnbc_tv-rachel_maddow_show/#43615283">July 1, actually</a>), as her "Best New Thing In The World", she invited some folks from Iowa who own a restaurant to make their specialty on her show: something called the Magic Mountain. (There's some connection to an Obama town hall and ... the details are in the podcast).<br />
<br />
A Magic Mountain is a piece of Texas Toast with meat, french fries, cheese sauce, and onions (to look like snow on top). If you put chili on top, it's called a Volcano.<br />
<br />
OMG. I craved one for like, three days before I could get to the store and get the stuff to make one. If I had picked up a can of vegetarian chili, this could even be a Project Veg recipe. But its not.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0t7PBF1DOENP-9vxvkdjNX-JoUo3Ouv8w1VgAipmssCgglMhYscNAlN5ormvKj_7FbRoZtOKjFULwBQYVmGj1709tj7_Erq6XXqAxvqq2Jk5Y9sxh4QzyplYpsQxYGH9QDuG19OOO9yhh/s1600/100_6136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0t7PBF1DOENP-9vxvkdjNX-JoUo3Ouv8w1VgAipmssCgglMhYscNAlN5ormvKj_7FbRoZtOKjFULwBQYVmGj1709tj7_Erq6XXqAxvqq2Jk5Y9sxh4QzyplYpsQxYGH9QDuG19OOO9yhh/s320/100_6136.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I used the Texas Toast I had in the fridge, which has cheese on it. I mean, you can never have too much cheese, right?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpd_PdhDebvDfkkz8jyMbQWSvnp_ifP0-DFTtF-TbJ28-4RP2n8WSsLUS0ATu2Kngycni7z8UfNZQ4-hJ_Zec4UxHjVH-Vc8hZkebX4-xDwUwy44NftnHBm1ZPaw_v9sSlXniE8e3B5CHU/s1600/100_6137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpd_PdhDebvDfkkz8jyMbQWSvnp_ifP0-DFTtF-TbJ28-4RP2n8WSsLUS0ATu2Kngycni7z8UfNZQ4-hJ_Zec4UxHjVH-Vc8hZkebX4-xDwUwy44NftnHBm1ZPaw_v9sSlXniE8e3B5CHU/s320/100_6137.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fries. I didn't put the meat, b/c at this point I thought I was doing this veg.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwHqEKZck610XyL_4JkY6l0iVKY60wVEegRtuOkCAEEuFGDAOhg1MjOKRutwQTksnAslNpc57Q7v7Rckdyl0qPe89K_KgCFexsuSJ9hcw6cPK6Vhb-jo9fnK30impkLT6gyHuwaJXhdu3/s1600/100_6138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwHqEKZck610XyL_4JkY6l0iVKY60wVEegRtuOkCAEEuFGDAOhg1MjOKRutwQTksnAslNpc57Q7v7Rckdyl0qPe89K_KgCFexsuSJ9hcw6cPK6Vhb-jo9fnK30impkLT6gyHuwaJXhdu3/s320/100_6138.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Melted cheese (I didn't have sauce, sorry).</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_eU_-y7yTkDs6Ta6yTMHMeGWpCtoy9eRkDxvHYUK95y1wUzbg2w-PMgWAZcPhsM9tOhs62PJV-0PLd1NDc4LWNDv9xZHudKtrFAG2l4Adk6xM_T8ohESbCLiDsll9t45eqEQeEPahvhvm/s1600/100_6140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_eU_-y7yTkDs6Ta6yTMHMeGWpCtoy9eRkDxvHYUK95y1wUzbg2w-PMgWAZcPhsM9tOhs62PJV-0PLd1NDc4LWNDv9xZHudKtrFAG2l4Adk6xM_T8ohESbCLiDsll9t45eqEQeEPahvhvm/s320/100_6140.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Onions, to look like "snow" on the mountain.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS3_xdcq2cEwE4q-OQm7Titjwbz_OJQfwTQtdXUA3Q01jn3fSHtfbNP2fc8dm-6IOifRnhEZLjG9t9SWHn4rL34sTJFyf3AUXonLZd-cdCkgvGm1xX5hZ447LUyvImh_iV1FTA9yOdNmP5/s1600/100_6142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS3_xdcq2cEwE4q-OQm7Titjwbz_OJQfwTQtdXUA3Q01jn3fSHtfbNP2fc8dm-6IOifRnhEZLjG9t9SWHn4rL34sTJFyf3AUXonLZd-cdCkgvGm1xX5hZ447LUyvImh_iV1FTA9yOdNmP5/s320/100_6142.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Okay, it looks really awful. But it was SOOO good.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-42527638796269712392011-07-17T20:26:00.001-04:002011-07-17T20:36:01.949-04:00ChurchSigh, where do you start a post about church?<br />
<br />
Chronologically, with a little quip about the churches you grew up in, the church you went to during college, the one you drug your new husband to where you listened to him sigh and pull his collar, the one where you were on the pet ministry committee so you helped organize a pet blessing ...<br />
<br />
Theologically, with how you started out as Lutheran, but then went to a Unity church, and now you want something in between the extremes of Unitarian Universalist and Episcopalian?<br />
<br />
Emotionally, with my departures from the church, my experiences with the born-again Christian supervisor who was determined to guilt me back to worship, my thoughts about belief in God versus worshipping Jesus while my mother believes Revelations a little too much ...<br />
<br />
Sigh. I'll try to stick to the parts of the story that are most relevant:<br />
<br />
When I lived "where I used to live" I walked into a church that felt so much like home it scared me. It was Lutheran church that used the same "green book" that I had grown up with - in fact I could recite the service without looking at the weekly pamphlet. The sanctuary was sunlit and airy and beautiful. The minister was a caring and devoted woman who had been in a science field before becoming a pastor, whose other gifts were a knack for history and skillful storytelling. I started going regularly, then - as I tend to do when I start going to church - I didn't go back for six months. When I started going again, I was greeted by name, with a smile, and heart that was warmed to see me, no matter how long it had been.<br />
<br />
I cried through tons of baptisms at that church. Every time there was a baptism I was determined not to cry. But I cried at every one. (Why do they do those right before the "sharing of the peace", so everyone gets to see your tear-stained face and embarrassment?) When I found out I was pregnant, I held my hand over my belly as I said my thank you prayers. Then my daughter was baptised in a ceremony just like those I had cried through. Photos in <a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/2010/06/baptism.html">this post</a>.<br />
<br />
But, as you all know, I don't live there anymore. I live here. So I assumed I'd be going back to my old church, the church I grew up in. We did that a few times. Each time my mom and I would whisper afterwards in the car "it's just changed so much, you know." When I was a tween and a teen, there was an active youth group and lots of families. It was an active, vibrant congregation. Now it seems that attendance and enthusiasm is dwindling.<br />
<br />
Subsequent conversations with members have helped to shed light on some of the reasons. The pastor, while many agree that he is a fantastic biblical scholar, doesn't seem to be as active in his pastoral duties as the congregation would like. Doesn't visit shut-ins to bring communion, doesn't visit the hospitalized or sick, and doesn't make much of an effort to put forth a caring personality. He's had some health issues of his own, and even (according to one story) was offended that people weren't more understanding of his own illness. There are many people that we see in the community that have now gone to other churches.<br />
<br />
We tried. My mom and I taught Vacation Bible School last summer, and we tried to attend Sundays. But there aren't many families attending anymore, and the atmosphere is no longer vibrant and enthusiastic.<br />
<br />
I didn't go to church for a while. After a week of workdays, I'm fine to hang out at home with my kid on Sunday mornings. But I feel a compulsion to raise her in a church environment, so I started on my quest to "find a church".<br />
<br />
We went to a Presbyterian church that some of my friends attend. In the plus column - lots of families, a well appointed nursery, an active church community. I just couldn't get past the "aw, shucks" southern accent and paternalistic presence of the minister, after the scholarly, story weaving pastor I'd left behind.<br />
<br />
We went to a Christian church, where my mother continues to attend and is becoming more active. They have a high quality nursery program (despite the fact that they<a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/2011/05/we-dont-have-lice.html"> inaccurately diagnosed my kid as having head lice</a>). I just couldn't get past the blatant misogyny in the sermons. I know that I won't feel comfortable in a conservative setting. It was at that point that I had a conversation with my mom that suggested that she and I don't need to find membership in the same church.<br />
<br />
I went to the Episcopal church. There were very few people in attendance the morning we went, because it was very snowy. So there was no nursery. Meaning I had to entertain my kid in a loud, echo-y wooden sanctuary and follow a worship service I don't know. The experience did inform me that I like the idea of traditional service. Oh, and a nursery.<br />
<br />
I went to a United Church of Christ. The minister there (female) did a good job of the history and storytelling - as she read from her notes (ugh). And the sanctuary was too small. Am I nitpicking because there is some other reason I don't like this church?<br />
<br />
I went to a Unitarian Universalist service. I thought maybe the problem was that I was visiting these Christian churches, when I'm not totally sure I identify as Christian. So why not try something more progressive, and more in line with my liberal views? As I expressed to a good friend afterward, it felt like I had been to a consciousness raising, rather than a church service. While I don't mind a good jab at Sarah Palin in a "sermon", I always thought I would raise my daughter in a more traditional setting than that.<br />
<br />
Okay, back to the Christian churches. And if I'm going to do that, I'd like to stay with the tradition I'm most comfortable with, the Lutheran church. There are no other ELCA Lutheran Churches on my side of the river, so we start heading across the bridge to go to church.<br />
<br />
First, a Lutheran Church in a quaint little part of town, and near one of my favorite Irish Pubs (that's a reason to go, then, right?) Their website makes a point to demonstrate that they are accepting and open. And it doesn't take nearly as long to get there as I thought it would, since we were half an hour early the first time we went. The church is a beautiful old church with a huge church building. And yes, they have a nursery. But the weekend I went was a big Synod meeting, so the regular minister wasn't there. Can you get a feel for a church if the minister is a substitute? Either way, this was on the "possibility list".<br />
<br />
Next, a large Lutheran Church a little farther from home, but not much. Much larger congregation. So big, in fact, that we were not personally greeted and not informed where the nursery was. A nice little old couple said after the children's sermon they take them to the nursery. Only ... they never had a children's sermon. So I spent much of that worship service in the hallway chasing my kid.<br />
<br />
Another Lutheran Church, this one near the campus where I teach. A much older congregation. Again, the minister was out (this is the problem with doing church tours in the summer) so it was all old white men giving communion to mostly old white people. I was hoping for some diversity, wasn't I? But the sanctuary was beautiful. My kid was well behaved until she'd had enough, and then a teenager took her to the nursery. And brought her back to me for communion.<br />
<br />
I've pretty much narrowed the selection down to the last three, the Lutheran churches. That's where I get stuck. I was thinking that the question would come down to whether I wanted to attend a church with a larger congregation or a smaller one. I would think larger, with more families is what we want (even if we weren't personally greeted, which was likely my own fault - I'll be less absorbed in not dropping my kid or my diaper bag next time). But they don't start worship until 11:00 and with the driving distance, that doesn't fit well into our schedule.<br />
<br />
The two smaller congregations (both worship at 10:30) are close together and often work together on joint ministries - for example they are having a joint VBS. So I feel the decision is slightly less "either/or" there. And with a smaller congregation comes the opportunity to get involved and practice leadership, right?<br />
<br />
All three churches do communion every Sunday. None of them have a Saturday evening or a Sunday evening (my ideal) worship service. They all three (I believe, at least two do) have kneeling benches and have an opportunity for kneeling during the service. (See, I'm getting into really wonky details here to try to set them apart in some way).<br />
<br />
So how do you decide? How do you pick a church? Does it feel hard because I haven't found "the right" church yet? So do I keep looking, week after week? Does it feel hard because, despite my trying, I'm really looking for my last church in this city and it's not here, so nothing feels quite "right"? What's more important, families and opportunities like youth groups for my kid? Size of the congregation? A fantastic historian/storyteller/caring minister? Openness and inclusion? Diversity? Having a Library? Having adults in the nursery instead of teenagers?<br />
<br />
I made a list of criteria that I would like to use. Things like "the pastor" and "youth group opportunities" and "openness and inclusion" ... but then what? How do you decide between a church with a fantastic female minister - who is an interim and won't be there permanently - and a gay male minister who is young and might move when he finishes divinity school? How do you decide between a really large church where you feel like you'll get lost - but that has awesome youth opportunities - and the smaller church where you'll be able to get to know people, but where there are currently like three kids in the youth group? Is the church that says they are open and welcoming to all, but has a sanctuary full of old white people on Sunday any different than the church that has a couple of gay people?<br />
<br />
How do you decide about church?<br />
<br />
Yesterday morning I saw a car pull up out in front of my house. My kid and I had been outside blowing bubbles. She was in panties that were drenched by the bubble solution she had spilled, and it had just started raining so we came inside. I saw someone get out of the car and run to the front door. My doorbell is broken, so I opened the door to find a woman with a gift bag containing a fresh baked loaf of bread. The sprinkles had stopped, so I stepped out onto the porch to talk with her. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place where I knew her from, until she started talking.<br />
<br />
She is from one of the churches that I visited. I've been twice now, once when the pastor was at the Synod meeting, and once last Sunday to meet him. She brought me some information about the church, and the bread, and a wonderful little card.<br />
<br />
All I got from the big church was a form postcard that said "we're glad you visited, see our website". <br />
<br />
I feel really guilty now, like I should totally join this church just because this woman brought me bread. I decided that the Wee One and I will should probably go again today. I was planning on us going to "church" I just wasn't sure where we would go, so this helps make that decision. The pastor had a neat one-on-one conversation with Wee One in the nursery, and I met his partner who was singing this morning.<br />
<br />
Is "they brought me bread" a reason to choose a church? Is any other reason any better? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9ENBRZUeKiEg1TWFpSoQAiW2m7MThrAXZb0XdLc6NTzNBgoeD8Y235-_pcxAooxIvWnHwER1Bw4rYEc6VuUgV920MQav8P9EQfVL4ME-w-KIhkHDgiNUyptBBBEH78QKMjvENvg63YEm/s1600/1LC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9ENBRZUeKiEg1TWFpSoQAiW2m7MThrAXZb0XdLc6NTzNBgoeD8Y235-_pcxAooxIvWnHwER1Bw4rYEc6VuUgV920MQav8P9EQfVL4ME-w-KIhkHDgiNUyptBBBEH78QKMjvENvg63YEm/s320/1LC.jpg" width="235" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwPQ4p9Hy0dlMt49Zjwg3-tzEpxCJ0iHwHEQb2KVCFpNeeVEW83ArfczDpGQYQZ1YF0t5p2zbhF0Qv6t0uH5PQFwc4uYUk1jkH_ihSD8oiVWvWkH_O_qEEFCP9ZOEGobae7xaPPcE1qcPu/s1600/TLCfront.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwPQ4p9Hy0dlMt49Zjwg3-tzEpxCJ0iHwHEQb2KVCFpNeeVEW83ArfczDpGQYQZ1YF0t5p2zbhF0Qv6t0uH5PQFwc4uYUk1jkH_ihSD8oiVWvWkH_O_qEEFCP9ZOEGobae7xaPPcE1qcPu/s1600/TLCfront.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzJyXpWeZhVG9TUWo1aDBDEL0GBXofJm3RgxgcHQrKUhjCAiaALBjrmEM0lyq-kgl1k0at5gNy8HFbUI7_WyNel7eM9T9Cbm6HTzsgLohm7EqOM0QLd5b2GQJKBk5B-Ud2oBG-qSF0qhi/s1600/Church-2004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzJyXpWeZhVG9TUWo1aDBDEL0GBXofJm3RgxgcHQrKUhjCAiaALBjrmEM0lyq-kgl1k0at5gNy8HFbUI7_WyNel7eM9T9Cbm6HTzsgLohm7EqOM0QLd5b2GQJKBk5B-Ud2oBG-qSF0qhi/s320/Church-2004.jpg" width="236" /></a></div><br />
So how do you decide on a church? The people all seem nice enough. I mean, I can totally put on my academic hat, make a list of questions like "what is your approach to catechism education" and "where do you see this church in five years" and "how does your church support alternative family lifestyles" and interview the pastors and make an obnoxious ass of myself in the process. But since it now appears I'll be living in this area until I retire (God willing and I get tenure), then this could be a long term commitment.<br />
<br />
So I'm open to any and all suggestions and advice, because at this point, I'm probably going to just keep going to the church that brought me bread. (Except I keep thinking about the other churches too.)MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-61033444750124110392011-07-17T08:41:00.001-04:002011-07-17T08:41:00.520-04:00A Girl And Her Dog, A Year LaterMy Wee One loves dogs. The first day this summer that we went to the farmer's market, she saw two dogs that she got to pet. That was around the time that we were starting to say our nighttime prayers more routinely, so we said Thank You God for the good food we had purchased at the farmer's market, and Please Bless all the people that helped to grow the good things we eat. "Dogs!" chimed in the kid, so we said "Thank You God for the dogs we saw at the Farmer's Market, and Please Bless all the dogs."<br />
<br />
Well, "Dogs!" has become a nighttime staple of our prayers. So far we have seen at least one dog each time we have visited the farmer's market, so my kid assumes that's just part of what happens there.<br />
<br />
I have let myself begin to think in the direction of "what if we get a dog". I had a dog that I loved so much that I can't even bring myself to write her tribute on this blog. Two anniversaries of her death have passed, and I can't bring myself to boil her life down to a post of words. I feel guilty thinking about getting another dog, and then I lose myself in the details of how much time it would take to housebreak and how to teach it not to bite, and ...<br />
<br />
So in the meantime, my parents dog serves as our surrogate dog. At the current moment, she is staying with us, since my dad is out of the country and my mom is ... well, off being my mom.<br />
<br />
So tonight we ate supper, then went outside to blow some bubbles.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tu0l5Bpruic/TiIq28VxZ3I/AAAAAAAACXM/GWI9kNrUgz4/s1600/2011-07-16+18.01.24-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" m$="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tu0l5Bpruic/TiIq28VxZ3I/AAAAAAAACXM/GWI9kNrUgz4/s320/2011-07-16+18.01.24-1.jpg" width="315" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nMggxYJtKxg/TiIq-PlN_YI/AAAAAAAACXQ/IMC20ruRCsE/s1600/2011-07-16+18.02.21-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" m$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nMggxYJtKxg/TiIq-PlN_YI/AAAAAAAACXQ/IMC20ruRCsE/s320/2011-07-16+18.02.21-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kJyg6_s-y0U/TiIrLia_8HI/AAAAAAAACXU/r_BSgzWQGtY/s1600/2011-07-16+18.04.02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" m$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kJyg6_s-y0U/TiIrLia_8HI/AAAAAAAACXU/r_BSgzWQGtY/s320/2011-07-16+18.04.02.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Why yes, that is my kid in the big-girl panties who tells me when she needs to go inside to pee pee in the potty thankyouverymuch!<br />
<br />
Post title refers to <a href="http://mommiev1.blogspot.com/2010/08/girl-and-her-dog-story-in-five-acts.html">this previous post</a>.MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5321710438703162714.post-70161627485799012492011-07-16T20:25:00.000-04:002011-07-16T20:25:04.881-04:00Walking to (Nan and) Grandpa's: 4th of July and Potty Training EditionsBecause of the delayed nature of this posting (um, two weeks late) we will combine some of the photos taken on our walks to Nan and Grandpas house.<br />
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First, the <strong>4th of July Edition</strong>:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aGamlMOq5ZE/Th5v2wBxCNI/AAAAAAAACWA/zprCUHnUPO4/s1600/2011-07-03+16.25.30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" m$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aGamlMOq5ZE/Th5v2wBxCNI/AAAAAAAACWA/zprCUHnUPO4/s320/2011-07-03+16.25.30.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PSfQZz8WTM4/Th5wI3MzeFI/AAAAAAAACWE/Tn7EFvGIldw/s1600/2011-07-03+16.26.54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" m$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PSfQZz8WTM4/Th5wI3MzeFI/AAAAAAAACWE/Tn7EFvGIldw/s320/2011-07-03+16.26.54.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D_sQ5nr-9K0/Th5wbpcGpwI/AAAAAAAACWI/aBdStzcRzKo/s1600/2011-07-03+16.27.39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" m$="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D_sQ5nr-9K0/Th5wbpcGpwI/AAAAAAAACWI/aBdStzcRzKo/s320/2011-07-03+16.27.39.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SI59DMLE_sI/Th5wyjAZMCI/AAAAAAAACWU/6tYvxKqd5Jo/s1600/2011-07-03+16.27.57.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" m$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SI59DMLE_sI/Th5wyjAZMCI/AAAAAAAACWU/6tYvxKqd5Jo/s320/2011-07-03+16.27.57.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Then the first <strong>Potty Training edition</strong> (that's why she's in a pajama top and undies)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNIS0RnIBaEmhCtbwOTeCR06zEZHDFZpNJ8qRzJZSGIj4f6mGCi4k4ifyBUq_XUXaove_stwLOjTXLeupAKPyOXhNJ8mqMiMu6t_sV3yh9264Omzb3RpXVhQyqpH_dls6vrNLgmDNHGt3_/s1600/100_6157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNIS0RnIBaEmhCtbwOTeCR06zEZHDFZpNJ8qRzJZSGIj4f6mGCi4k4ifyBUq_XUXaove_stwLOjTXLeupAKPyOXhNJ8mqMiMu6t_sV3yh9264Omzb3RpXVhQyqpH_dls6vrNLgmDNHGt3_/s320/100_6157.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvhG5F7hiPYmtqfN2qPI46W6Jstl7y1xSDZ8-YYeYp_Q8RvaQf3p0VYFSCb0U1r_hdaJ77IdgBAgqr_kiKTzQrFM2lzvAX9U9D2vSgpbAyOdySZahLVfowhKxAXG1wSRAszuWhVAyB4Bww/s1600/100_6159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvhG5F7hiPYmtqfN2qPI46W6Jstl7y1xSDZ8-YYeYp_Q8RvaQf3p0VYFSCb0U1r_hdaJ77IdgBAgqr_kiKTzQrFM2lzvAX9U9D2vSgpbAyOdySZahLVfowhKxAXG1wSRAszuWhVAyB4Bww/s320/100_6159.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_7KCOoxCGYxFiPjEicRmMqU_cqIr0FNTeqQH3IxaQBX_0L08TXkUYgl0GSodSQTUJn-FxXNHE5PgVw9jNNg7b1BMS0NYqdO6KZpXSWckrhODpVbA5QI5opIx7ii8Q7_vHBCzKbQhSD_3/s1600/100_6160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_7KCOoxCGYxFiPjEicRmMqU_cqIr0FNTeqQH3IxaQBX_0L08TXkUYgl0GSodSQTUJn-FxXNHE5PgVw9jNNg7b1BMS0NYqdO6KZpXSWckrhODpVbA5QI5opIx7ii8Q7_vHBCzKbQhSD_3/s320/100_6160.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YJCDd1Vki5kCqMQMdg4CcimPYlCmtLe94-3Q-Io7x5nVo0kX1PIuAxbBK5DlYhuW45b9S3qH3fjocBzwsQelsEXCbCFPjU-UY3eyIbRoaIvK-7OTBMFkMVyS9GnwDm72eLJ4Z6Rnx6K3/s1600/100_6161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YJCDd1Vki5kCqMQMdg4CcimPYlCmtLe94-3Q-Io7x5nVo0kX1PIuAxbBK5DlYhuW45b9S3qH3fjocBzwsQelsEXCbCFPjU-UY3eyIbRoaIvK-7OTBMFkMVyS9GnwDm72eLJ4Z6Rnx6K3/s320/100_6161.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Then the <strong>Second Potty Training edition</strong> (short dress and undies)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VlG2j_ktz0s/TiIqeNjQalI/AAAAAAAACW8/dYGtMKejAwM/s1600/2011-07-14+07.54.26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" m$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VlG2j_ktz0s/TiIqeNjQalI/AAAAAAAACW8/dYGtMKejAwM/s320/2011-07-14+07.54.26.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nqpfK9tzFEQ/TiIqy577twI/AAAAAAAACXI/ivBvlUL2M_4/s1600/2011-07-14+07.53.41-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" m$="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nqpfK9tzFEQ/TiIqy577twI/AAAAAAAACXI/ivBvlUL2M_4/s320/2011-07-14+07.53.41-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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I kept her in dresses for the first week. We moved into shorts yesterday and had success! It's the little triumphs ....MommieVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802987098837731695noreply@blogger.com28