Alabaster Mom

That is a direct quote from my daughter.  Apparently our vacation was a bit too low-key for her taste. We arrived at the cabin on Friday night (the 20th) and when we woke up Saturday morning, she asked, "How many days do we have to STAY here?" On the second day, she advised us that relaxing is just downright boring.  I told her what my mother used to tell me: only the boring get bored .  Also, my sisters and I, in our youth, quickly learned never to use the B word within earshot of the woman who gave birth to us.  All you had to do was form the thought in your mind and you'd have a bottle of 409 and a mop in your hand before you could fully articulate your state of utter ennui. I have not said the B word aloud in some 35 years. The woman is six states away from me now but I would not put it past her to overnight some Windex up here if she thought I might be bored. We did try our best to entertain the kid while on vacation.  I bought her some watercolor paints ...

This post may or may not fall under the category of child abuse, since I am about to recount a story about my daughter that is giggly-cute now but will be embarrassing to her in the future, if she happens to recall it and/or read about it here.  However, since I do make some vague attempt not to divulge my child's name or specifically where we reside, let's just say it's not child abuse. As you know, our wee clan has been on vacation for the past six days.  We stayed in a beautiful cabin (owned by a friend of mine) on a scenic lake situated in a national forest.  The cabin does not have a bathtub, just a shower stall.  The door is constructed of that textured glass (or whatever it's made of) where you can't see through it as clearly as you can through a window, but you can determine the gender, race, and general proportions of anyone who may be taking a shower in said stall (if they left the bathroom door open, that is). On Wednesday night, the three of us enjoyed...

We're headed out on vacation tomorrow evening.  We're doing the cabin-by-the-lake scene for six days. We cannot wait.  All P and I plan to do is lie around, read, watch movies, and drink adult beverages.  Oh, and yell at the kid to stop letting the dogs out.  We do plan to work in a few other activities, such as making s'mores, swimming in the lake, and doing a bit of hiking (there is a state park nearby with a nice hiking trail). For the most part, it is all about nothing. The packing is, as usual, the biggest challenge.  I started packing a couple of days ago.  What I have to pack: my clothes, the kids' clothes, swimsuits, towels, bedding, dog food and other supplies for the dogs, a dog crate, food, drinks, shoes, DVD player and DVDs, toilet paper and other paper products, cleaning supplies, floats and stuff for the lake, bug spray, books and toys for the kid, umbrellas, and underwear. What my other half has to pack: three pairs of shorts and a few tee ...

We're back from the state fair - a little sweaty and sunburned, but no worse for wear.  We always make a weekend of it by freeloading at the home of some friends of mine on Saturday night, but we extended it a day and arrived on Friday night this year.  First, we stopped to visit our former foster dog, Fritz (Fritz-a-Million, Fritty Cent, Fritzenheimer) and his mom.  I honestly think he remembered us!  I hadn't seen him since January, but he looked great for his age (10 1/2). I truly adore the lady who adopted him. I've been thinking of asking her to adopt me also.  She gave me some Mala beads and wee Buddha figurine. I'd had a rough week and was touched to receive unexpected gifts. And of course it was great to see Fritz looking so healthy and happy.  It took almost a year to find a home for him, but I'd say it was the right home indeed. We couldn't stay as long as I might have liked, because we were afraid the hotel pool might close at 9 and I'd promise...

As you'll recall, my right eye has gone all squirrely on me .  I went to my optometrist for help. He helpfully advised me that I'm old, gave me some new contacts (this variety allows more oxygen to permeate, apparently), and told me to put drops (artificial tears) in my eyes as needed.  Dr. K was right, because the contacts and the drops did rectify the issue.  However, just to make sure there is nothing fundamentally or structurally wrong with my eyes, he told me he needed me to come back so that he could dilate my pupils and take a closer look. I put it off as long as I could.  I had an appointment scheduled for two weeks ago, but the kid's daycare scheduled an ice cream social for the same day, and I would rather eat glass than to tell her she would have to miss it.  So, I rescheduled.  Knowing that dilating my pupils would cause my vision to be more out of whack than usual (so much that I was required to bring a driver with me), I ...

One of my favorite television shows is “Intervention” on A&E. I watch it every Monday night (or at least record it on the DVR and then watch it when I can). I was most relieved when they moved it from Friday nights to Monday nights, as watching it on a Friday night with a glass of Gewürztraminer in my hand felt a little unseemly. In any case, every week I root for the addict and am always elated when they make it through to the other side. One clear observation I’ve made as a result of watching “Intervention” is that one cannot downplay the importance of parent/child bonds. Over and over the same theme emerges. An inattentive or absentee father often seems to lead to a cascade of bad decisions by his daughter. Tales of a son vying for his father’s approval are told and retold. While there are fewer examples shown of mothers neglecting their parenting duties, they surely exist as well. I’ve told my other half, “Never forget how important you are in our daughter’s life. You wie...

The kid is going through some sort of artistic phase lately.  Normally, she does churn out a lot of art, but she never really sits down for any length of time to color. My six-year-old nephew is an Olympic-level colorer who can do it for hours. A lot of times A hands me a sheet of construction paper with three lines on it and that's about it.  Lately, though, a lot of color is coming out of the bedroom at the end of the hall.  The image above was created yesterday.  Click on it for a larger version if you'd like. That's her dad on the left.  The one with the marsupial ears.  P says he always looks like a Sleestak in the pictures in which he appears. He was happy to note the sunshine aura around him, though. That's me in the middle.  Now, is it my imagination or am I getting down ?  I mean, I am leaning into the beat and my purple clogs are about to start tapping big time. I don't have a sunshine aura, but with a rainbow over my head and one u...

August is shaping up to be a busy month for our wee clan. We spent a weekend out of town with friends to start it off. This weekend I’m working at a pet expo on Saturday afternoon and then the three of us are headed to a party (hosted by some friends from church) after that. This is the same party at which I was generously over-served last year (yes, I was serving myself, but I need you to play along here) and actually sang karaoke. In front of other people. So, we’ll see how it goes. The kid will have friends there as well, so it should be a good time for all. Next weekend, we are headed to the state fair (held a couple hours away). We always make a weekend of it, and freeload with some friends of ours. As an added bonus, we are going to visit our former foster dog Fritz. I am very much looking forward to seeing the ol' guy. The week after that, we are taking a vacation. It’s nothing terribly elaborate or exotic – a friend of mine lets us use his cabin every summer and we defi...

The photo above has nothing to do with anything - I just happen to think my wee boss looks really cute in this shot and thought I should obligate you to look at it.  I have never been to Disney World.  There, I said it.  P and I have talked about taking the kid.  We typically host a party every other year for her birthday, so that is what will happen on her next (sixth) birthday. We developed a loose plan to take her to Disney for her seventh.  We knew we didn't want to take her when she was really little, because she wouldn't remember it (we took her to Texas when she was two, and all she could recall from the trip was that she'd had eggs for breakfast one day).  We decided that seven would be a good age. Immediately, we were full of questions such as: who will get on the rides with our daughter, since P and I both received "no more rides for you" memos from our respective stomachs.  My friend Karen says that it's not the stomach but rather the...