Pumpkin Patches Rock!

Another awesome thing to look forward to in the fall: Pumpkin Patches!!

I love pumpkin patches. I especially love the patches that are not overly commercial --not sponsored by a company on the Dow Jones, or open until midnight with special 1,000-watt bulbs you can see in space, or crawling with costumed characters. I know, I'm probably uber-boring, but I truly love the patches that have pumpkins, some hay, maybe some farm animals... and if the "added value" is low-tech, I'm all the more excited about it.

The pumpkin patch we went to when Megan was a baby closed down, but it will forever be in my memory as The Perfect Pumpkin Patch. It was called Westside Farms, and it was way out in the country, and it WAS country. The barn was a working barn; the animals were true farm animals, not just some rented pony from some 4-H student; and the fields of pumpkins stretched as far as you could see. There was a hay ride, but it was practical: the hike out to find the pumpkin was a delight, as you only had your mental image of your perfect pumpkin to hold; the trek back with the actual gourd was a little more harrowing!

Westside Farm had a hay pyramid, and children of all ages swarmed up and down the bales with gleeful abandon. They had a little kiosk with farm-fresh veggies and gourds available for purchase, too, but most of their focus was on providing an opportunity for families to find their Halloween jack-o-lantern material and give them a taste of a working farm.

When the farm closed down when Megan was a toddler, I was distraught. Now where would we go for a pumpkin? Sure, we could buy a pumpkin at the grocery store, but where was the fun? Where was the tractor ride and the hay bales and the snuffly snort of a freakishly large pig? (And no, the checker's impressions don't count.)

We found a couple of other places, and they had their charms -- one was a vast field dotted with old tractors you could climb on, another featured a preschool-aged craft area with colored macaroni noodles to thread on long strings, a third had a maze built into their hay pyramid -- but none had that perfect mix of professional, local, and family that we were looking for.

This weekend we decided to visit a farm based on a few things which may or may not make sense to you. One, I went to school with a guy with that last name, and I was pretty sure this was his family's ranch. Two, it was close to Matt's mom's house, and we were there for breakfast. Three, it had signs. Four, it had a website with pictures.

The farm was out in the country, but not too far out. (Bonus points awarded.) It had a decent selection of pumpkins gathered, and a hay bale pyramid. (Again, ding, ding!) It had a sophisticated hay maze, with doors and an entrance and exit -- but it was so dark we couldn't get more than a few feet in before we got overwhelmed with panic. Enter the farmer himself (and yes, it was his son that I went to school with) who led us through the maze with a flashlight -- and down into the secret haunted house portion, built underground and populated with all manner of creepy Halloween-y stuff! (We totally lucked out and got there as it was opening, and tagged along for his safety check... I assume they also go along with other families, or no one would discover the tons of work that went into this display!)

At the far end of the patch there was a fence divided into two sort of gate-type openings, with two lengths of rubbery stuff attached to the openings. It looked like a giant slingshot... but how could that be? Just beyond the fence separating the patch from the working farm was a herd of cows, sort of staring at us like we were there to entertain them. There was a pond on their side, too, and in the pond were the remains of several pumpkins. We could see a big box of pumpkins standing nearby, and sure enough, there was a sign inviting us to try our shot! It was a slingshot! And we got to fling pumpkins! At the cows! Across the pond! Let me just say right now we had more fun stretching back that slingshot and attempting to launch those pumpkins than we've had in a long time! Apparently the goal was to get across the pond, to the bank where the cows were, but I'm guessing you had to produce an acutal degree in Agriculture to be able to meet that goal. Ours were lucky to make it past the gate to roll down the close bank -- mine fell at my feet at the starting mark, in fact!-- but that didn't diminish the fun one little bit! The cows were eternally hopeful, however gimpily we flung pumpkins, patiently standing and watching as we launched shot after shot their way.

The kids chose ginormous pumpkins and hauled them to the pay station in wagons, and we loaded them into the minivan's way back with happy sighs of contentment. THIS was a pumpkin patch and a half!

Sure, a pumpkin patch pumpkin costs a bit more than one you can pick up at Home Depot or along with the broccoli, waffles and dryer sheets at the grocery store... but how often do you get to slingshot pumpkins at cows in the grocery store? And how would you ever get pictures like these without your friendly local farmer? (Totally worth every penny -- and then some!)

Sneak Peek!

Yet another reason to love the photographer we chose... she puts up a sneak peek on her blog!

Let's see if I'm technologically advanced enough to copy and paste the web link! ;)

http://jeneanne.blogspot.com/2009/10/l-family-windsor-family-photography.html

Birthday Blast Weekend

On Wednesday Matt's mom is turning 70 amazing years old (although she doesn't look a day over 50!) and instead of a present she could unwrap we decided to have an experiential weekend. (I think that's a word... if it isn't, I get credit for it, okay?)

By the way -- once everything was booked -- about six or seven weeks ago -- we told Mom about the entire plan so she could anticipate and do whatever fun stuff she wanted to look her best. I thought that was better that way... because who wants to be that one week away from a full overhaul at the beauty parlor and someone says, "Surprise, we're doing family portraits!"

Dan and Randy flew in from Los Angeles on Thursday night and took up residence in our guest room (formerly known as the office/catch-all room). Andrea and Brendan flew in from Las  Vegas the same night, and took up the guest room at Mom's. Friday there was a frenzy of activity during the day -- a hair appointment for Mom, lunch for Dan, Randy, Mom, Matt and I, a quick visit to his parents for Brendan and a visit to her old school for Andrea. Then the real flurry began: we all met up at our house, including my father in law, changed into our cute clothes and headed out the door to the regional park a couple of blocks away.

We had arranged to have a photographer meet us there and take all manner of family pictures -- Mom and each "kid," Mom with all her family, each family as its own unit, brothers together, siblings together, etc. -- and she was awesome! When I was looking for a photographer I was delighted to come across her website and see the various types of photographs she does, but even more so to see the relaxed, comfortable look on the faces of all her subjects! We spoke on the phone and connected immediately -- I warned her about Thomas, and she countered that she has a five year old son and fraternal twins that are 3 and a half! (She was sooo not fazed by Thomas!!) Her energy was calm, focused, happy and alert to the small moments -- in other words, perfect for a photographer of a big, gangly group of 8 grownups and 2 kids!

We got some great shots, and I can't wait to see the sneak peek we were promised in a few days... but in the meantime, I have a favorite "snap" of the experience to share here. :)

After the photo shoot we came back to our house and had take and bake pizza, salad, and drinks, plus a homemade pumpkin spice cake with numerical candles to represent both Matt's birthday (which is Friday) and Mom's birthday (Wednesday) to total 112. (I had to do the math a few times to make sure I was right... but 70 plus 42 does equal 112!) Thomas was in the other room when I brought the cake in to light the candles, but the second we began singing there was a thundering of kiddie paws and a flash of boy came by, blowing all three candles out in one passing flash!!

Saturday the crew went wine tasting and to lunch (although I stayed back with the kids, figuring we had childcare for later that night and I didn't want to overdo the sitter) and then Mom and her three grown children and their spouses went to a very nice restaurant and had a lovely dinner. I can't pronounce the food I ate, but it was delicious!

Sunday we had breakfast and visited with Dan and Randy some more, and Dan went to check in with their airline so they could get seat reservations. Alas, the flight was "oversold," and they were counseled to arrive at the airport 2 and a half to three hours early to see if they would get seats -- let alone choose where they were sitting! The airport is as big as a good-sized McDonald's, so it's sort of laughable to have to arrive that far ahead, but what are you gonna do? If need be, they'd get a flight home tomorrow first thing -- whee, another night! -- but they'd cross that bridge when they got there. With a deep breath or two (travel is soooo restful, isn't it?) they took off to visit another wonderful relative in Santa Rosa (a complicated extended relationship to describe, but she's my kids' grandma and we love her to pieces!). Andrea and Brendan and Mom came up here to visit for a bit longer, and Andrea decided she'd better check their reservations -- which were out of San Francisco, and therefore more complicated. (Also, she had made them at two separate times, because there was a chance Brendan was going to have to work through Friday, and Andrea wanted to come up on Thursday to see some friends, their journey home was actually on two separate flights about 45 minutes apart.) Andrea was horrified to discover that she'd accidentally booked Brendan on a flight FROM Las Vegas instead of TO Las Vegas. Arghhhh! A phone call and several dollars later, the situation was resolved -- and Brendan and Andrea got to fly home on the same flight, even!

Tonight the house is quieter, but it's a happy quiet, full of contented memories of laughter, hugs, and fun conversations. There was no bow on the present, but I know my mother in law was thrilled beyond words to receive her gift this year -- and she'll never forget the year she turned 70!

family portraits and other death marches

Maybe I'm too tense or something, but in my mind "family portrait" is in the same category as that once-a-year appointment with the doctor who makes small talk while under the drape: unpleasant, but neccessary.

It's not one thing, really, but the whole thing that has me in a tizzy: the idea of getting my entire family looking clean, cute and sane at the same time is daunting. From the time I book the appointment to the time we're sitting in the studio I age a few years, like Presidents do in office. It takes weeks, literally --there's haircuts to schedule and the clothes to plan and the baths to run everyone through; then there's the timing of the event -- everyone needs to be in the Best Mood Possible, not hungry, tired, or running out of the benefits of medication. Finally we all have to look reasonably in the same direction and smile pleasantly -- not maniacally, not evilly, not sulkily. Oh, and if the boy child doesn't look too restrained, that's a double bonus of the highest order.

We recently took ourselves to Sears to redeem a gift certificate for a family portrait, and I have to say it went much smoother than I was bracing myself for... Besides the weeks of work, I attribute our good experience to three key things:

*Thomas was in an excellent mood, which was HUGE.

*The photographer was quick, alert, and snap-happy -- she'd click that button if there was the remotest chance the picture would be cute.

*Matt and Megan were their cute selves, and I had the first recorded Good Hair Day/Picture Day co-existence, EVER.

In the end, we had so many good pictures to choose from, it was actually hard to pick just one as our official Family Portrait. We finally decided on a nice grouping, and added a few sheets of some other cute poses -- the kids together, and the kids individually -- and left with our CD of pics.

Once home, I loaded the CD onto the computer and downloaded the pictures, marvelling again at the great expressions on Thomas's face, the cute freckles on Megan's face, the relaxed smiles of the four of us -- and then I froze. The cute individual picture of Thomas, where he's smiling in impish delight? It has another feature. I'll upload it here and add it to the bottom of this post for you to enjoy. Just remember, he isn't doing it on purpose... I'm pretty sure... LOL

Preschool ROCKS!

Five special-needs kids times four hours a day times four days a week equals X.

a) eXciting

b) eXcellent

c) eXhilarating

d) eXhausting

Answer: e) all of the above!

I still absolutely LOVE the job after the first full week of kiddoes! I've played pretend in the kitchen area, put together Thomas the Train tracks on a playrug, joined in all the songs, read my favorite Sandra Boynton books (oh my gosh, HUGE hit: Blue Hat, Green Hat), climbed and slid on the playground, ate goldfish crackers, painted, glued, and played in the water table.

Er, and the kids did, too... LOL

The personalities are shining through -- we know which child will share willingly, and which WON'T; which child will play in the sandbox, and which child will check the perimeter to see if a random gate might have gone un-checked (nope, we're on that one, buddy!); and which child likes which activities. Everyone is getting used to the schedule -- from bus drivers on down to the kids.

The first week was wonderful, and I can't wait for Monday morning to get here so I can see my friends' adorable faces again!

Update on the Job Thing

A little over a week ago I posted that I was offered a job as a paraeducator (class aide) in a preschool for special needs kids. In the last week I had my physical (I posted some observations of that "experience" in the comments section in the article below) and then had to wait for the doctor to get and view my records from visiting a chiropractor. (I'm assuming the box "yes" next to chiropractor has some sort of alarm signal that makes all the exits seal and the oxygen mask to come flying out of the ceiling.) The doctor (I'm sure acting in a CYA way, because the insurance folks breathe down her neck, but STILL) insisted I get a back x-ray to rule out degenerative disc disease (since I have seen the chiro for sciatica) and now I'm waiting for the x-ray folks to get the info to her and for her to decide if I'm enough of a non-cripple to actually work in a preschool. (My chiro snorted when I told him this. Actual snort -- it was awesome -- and told me not to worry.) But in the meantime, I am in limbo, unable to concretely plan anything because I need to wait for the verdict... sigh... Anyway, just bringing you up to date... :p

Whoo Hoo!

Great news! I got a call today, offering me a job! I'll be starting the 2009-2010 school year in a preschool class one town up from mine, and I couldn't be more thrilled! I still have to find out some of the pesky details, but I've already got a physical appointment set up for Monday and I'm looking forward to perusing some Back to School outfits for myself when we hit the aisles for the kids! LOL

Thanks to all the folks who sent good thoughts and well wishes my way... and keep 'em coming -- I'm gonna be neck-deep in playdough, tempera paints, and sand tables in less than a month! :)

Interview Today!

Wish me luck! My interview is this afternoon! I figure as long as there's no algebra test, I'll do just fine... LOL

Goin' Real

I feel so techie now!

I changed my avatar to an actual picture of myself, instead of the sweet Mamabear from the Berenstein Bears.

This is only a big deal to me because when I came to PNN, I was so intimidated by the whole setting-up thing (even though it is soo easy and intuitive and user-friendly), the founder of the site actually did the intial set up. That was something like 20 months ago... so maybe my growth curve is a little on the low side, but hey! I got here! LOL

Zoo!

We spent a good part of yesterday at the San Francisco Zoo, enjoying all the animals -- both inside and outside the enclosures! (There were several schools' worth of field-tripping groups there, herded around by parents with that dazed "oh, God, what have I gotten into?" look... which is a green light to act up and get away with whatever you can as fast as you possibly can to any kid worth their salt. Let's just say the day was sodium rich and move on, shall we?)

We invited Matt's (wonderful and easygoing!) mom to join us, and planned on taking my minivan so there would be plenty of room for everyone, but that was before my van ended up in Shop Hell. (The transmission is out, and the shop is trying to get the warranty company to greenlight fixing it, but it's now Friday and the van has been at the shop since Tuesday morning at 8. No work has been done, and it's not looking like any will be done in the foreseeable future... and no, this shop doesn't have replacement vehicles, so we are down to one car. Sigh... ) Luckily we were able to take Mom's car for the SF trip, or we'd have been crunched into Matt's pickup like sardines in a can!

We downloaded  maps before we went, and handed one to each child so they could begin enjoying the day. Thomas loves maps, and he spent a good portion of the hour-long drive down to San Francisco poring over the paper, announcing venues as he found them: "Lion! Look, Mom, lion! Giraffe! Look, Mom, giraffe!" Megan tried to map out a route to take us to the animals she wanted to see, but it turns out they don't have pandas -- her first pick -- and we somehow missed the koalas, if they did have those.

I forgot how expensive it can be to do an outing like this... even with packing snacks and lunch, and a comp'ed parking ticket (thanks to a friend), it cost us $66 just to get in! ($6 bridge toll, $15 each adult, $9 each kid, and $12 for a senior.) We got one cotton candy and one order of fries, so there went another $10 or so... and the train was running, so we plonked down the $4 each to have a ride on THAT, of course...ka-ching, ka-ching... sigh... Blam, there went $100~! I must say, though, that we got our money's worth: we did have a great day!

I was able to get some awesome pictures of animals with my new camera, zooming right up to capture their faces. I had some sort of magic touch going, too -- the animals would look up or seem to pose perfectly just as I went to click the shot -- and I ended up with postcard-quality shots! (Double drat that I am still having technical issues with uploading them!! Rrrrr!~)

I've noticed before that several animals are not all that exciting to see... the lions and tiger just lay there, looking vaguely stuffed, sunning themselves, and other animals seemed to be hiding just out of camera range, chuckling to themselves as they presented hunched backsides (warthogs, the seal, the capybara and most of the polar bears). The really disturbing exhibit, though, is the kangaroo habitat, on the Walkabout. Never once have I seen one upright, looking like a kangaroo ought to look... instead, they are all stretched out on the slight incline, looking like some sort of massacre has happened on the grassy slope. Guyana comes to mind... do kangaroos drink Koolaid?

Luckily, several other animals were animated and fun to watch, like the bears, penguins, and giraffes. We took some video of the river otters frolicking in their little river and waterfall area (easily the best exhibit of the day!), and a funny little scene as the kids attempted to feed the animal kids in the farm animals area, and an accidental few second's worth of two turtles sunning themselves on a log. (I hadn't reset the camera, and I thought I was getting a still picture. Well, even with video, I got a still picture! LOL) The best video was taking some footage on the train, getting Thomas's reaction and then panning up to get the sensation of riding along for a few seconds. We played it over and over again once we got home, and each time the kids were delighted all over again!

The playground was our after-lunch stop, but that idea seemed to have occured to every field trip group, as well. The place was swarming with kids, hell-bent on being on every piece of equipment as fast as they could before they had to go back to filling out their "educational" booklets on animals. One group was wearing some sort of uniform -- black pants, white shirts, and burgundy blazers -- but several other groups were wearing bright red tee shirts, which surprisingly enough, was also what Thomas was wearing. A huge number of kids had also gotten their summer buzz cuts, too... just like Thomas. For the twenty  minutes we were on that playground I was frantically trying to keep up with and maintain visuals on a racing red-shirted buzz-cut boy, and constantly double checking to make sure it was the RIGHT boy! Good Lord, that "break" nearly broke me!

At the end of the day we made our way back across the zoo, stopping for one last gaze at the pink flamingos outside the Leaping Lemur Cafe. Matt had a firm grip on Thomas -- who has been known to plunge into bodies of water in a heartbeat, and whose impulse-control medication was nearing expiration -- but somehow Thomas was able to grab Nona's sunglasses off her head and fling them into the enclosure, all in the blink of an eye. We stood there in stupefied silence -- did that just happen?! -- and then Thomas let out a hoot of nervous laughter: even he was surprised by his actions!

I guess we'll just add on the price of a pair of sunglasses to the zoo trip and call it a day...

100 List

Have you ever heard of the 100 List, where you write down 100 things you want to do, have, or be in your lifetime? It's a way of committing to paper those wistful "Someday I'll..." musings... Once you've written them down, it's like you've set in motion the universe's power to fulfill them...

When you first try this, you'll find yourself writing down small things like "go to Las Vegas," and then several dozen lines later you'll write the real biggie: "star in my own show in Las Vegas!" It's like you are trying to be polite, not greedy -- "I'll just have the salad, thanks... and a water, if it's not too much trouble." Then there's this sudden gust of possibility and you rush in with a what-the-heck attitude -- "And three appetizers, a 22 ounce steak, two sides, and hey, bring the dessert menu!!"

Here's a few to get you started. Feel free to add things in the comment box!

1. Write and publish a book. (Wait -- a series!!)

2. Visit Australia. (For a month!)

3. Attend the Writer's Conference in Hawaii. (Hang on-- be a speaker at the conference!!)

4. Go on a cruise in the Caribbean. (First class, money no object!)

5. Visit Washington, D.C. (Stay at the White House!)

6. Own a vacation home. (In France? Italy? The California coast? Hmmm...)

7. Find a practical way to help autistic kids and their parents. (Open a school and recreation center; franchise them to have a whole string across the U.S. and the world!)

8. Learn a new language.

9. Get a great family portrait every year. (Oooh, who is a famous photographer?)

10. Redo the backyard. (In our new dream home, of course!)

Happy dreaming!

Thoughts

One of my favorite things about PNN is the opportunity it affords us to think.

Among the very talented writers that post here on PNN we have a wide variety of experiences, ages, backgrounds, cultures, and lifestyles. We can skip from post to post and find every representation of life from student to teacher, single and loving it to looking for a life partner, parent to child-free, homebody to world traveler... and all the combinations in between. We may not always agree with a point of view -- we may not always enjoy another person's writing -- but we are free to choose what we continue to read.

There have been a flurry of posts recently about swearing, with lots of comments on each new piece. I've caught myself thinking about each point of view at random times during my day -- while walking across the playground to my "Duty Zone" for yard duty, while stirring a pot of pasta cooking on the stove, while showering or falling asleep or vacumming or whatever mindless task I am currently attempting to liven up with an internal conversation -- and I decided to chime in with a post of my own.

First of all, I have to confess I do swear. Not all the time, and not in front of the kids (15 years of being a nanny will give you the same skills Gretchen mentions in her post about being a dee-jay) but I do swear on occasion. I recognize the punch factor of a well-chosen word in context, and will use it if appropriate. 

Occasionally I will do a self-check and realize I'm swearing more than I would like, in a gratuitous or mindless way; not like a drunken sailor on shore leave, maybe, but enough that I decide to scale back the dependence on the George Carlin list a bit.

WearsManyHats said she gets turned off by written swearing, and that a post full of swearing is likely to make her not want to read further. She's honest about this, and she's introspective enough to realize this may prevent her from seeing/hearing some points of view. When I read her post, it seemed to me that she meant a lot of gratuitous swearing -- not the occasional hot damn, but the whole enchilada doused with flaming f-bombs. I agree; at some point the punch factor of a well-chosen swear word loses its power to invigorate and instead becomes redundant and annoying. It's like the toddler "NO!" phase, where they answer no to every request as a matter of course, even when they WANT whatever you're offering... sort of reflexive, rather than effective.

The great thing about this post-flurry is that it made many of us stop and think. We thought about how we feel about swearing, and communication in general. We thought about how our communications are received, and how we feel about that. We explored the thoughts that came up from reading the posts, and then from the comments from other readers. In short, we took a moment to do some evaluations, and came away with a better understanding of our own thought processes as well as an insight into our fellow PNN posters' thought processes. How cool is that?

I, for one, am grateful for the nudge PNN gives me -- nearly daily! -- to think, to learn, to grow, to explore.

Just a thought...

Mother's Day Piece for the Windsor Times

Twice a month I contribute a humor/slice of life column to my local paper... the title of my column is "Someday We'll Laugh About This... Right?" For Mother's Day I got to contribute an additional piece (commissioned, this time!) and it is available on the website.

Here's the link: http://sonomawest.com/articles/2009/05/07/living/doc4a01f772d87df765604481.txt

Happy Mother's Day to all the amazing, wonderful, inspiring and hard-working moms out there on PNN and beyond... :)

L,

Mamabear/Juliana

He's IN!!

I just got back from Thomas's transition meeting and he is officially, totally, thoroughly IN the special autism school!

PLUS SUMMER SCHOOL!!!! Full day, no less! And transportation -- he gets to ride a bus to school!

(Yes, I am dancing around the house and shouting this in the most joyful way possible! Hee, hee!)

Thomas Quote

While driving home from the McDonald's drive thru, I asked, "Who's hungry?"

Both kids immediately chimed, "ME!"

Thomas whipped around to glare at Megan. "Hey! I'm ME!"

Field Trip : Part Two

The sleeping bags stretched out in a long line along the wall, with each night watch crew grouped together. Our group -- five girls and two adults -- was first up for Night Watch, so we just stayed up when the rest of the class went upstairs to settle down. We got the yeast and flour mixture started for the egg bread biscuits we'd eat for breakfast, and began heating up the branding iron to take turns branding the girls' candleholders. Ms. Jordan also stayed up with us, directing the girls to set up a table near the fireplace and getting games out for those not actively doing some task. She also set out the makings for S'mores, which we had gotten reprimanded for by the ranger. ("There were no S'mores in 1843!") (Our response: a blithe "We know." We had decided that if we had to wake up 9 and 10 year olds to stay up for two hours in the middle of the night in the cold we were going to offer them hot chocolate and S'mores, history be damned.) When it got close to 11 we took the girls back down the hill to use the bathrooms again (and I will admit that I informed the girls they all would try-- even if they thought they didn't have to go-- because if they had to go during the night, it was MY responsibility to take them back down the hill) and brush their teeth. The adults went in to wake up the next watch's adults, who roused their charges, and our group all gratefully went to bed.

It was really, really, really cold. I had on footless tights, sweatpants, a denim skirt and a silk skirt, a turtleneck, a shirt, a sweatshirt with a hood, and my sleeping bag, and I was still so cold I couldn't sleep. The hard wood we were stretched out on didn't help... and the sound of all those people rustling and/or snoring didn't exactly ease me into dreamland, either. At about 1 it dawned on me that I needed to use the bathroom (and yes, I had gone at 11!) and, figuring I couldn't get colder than I already was, I got up to trot down the hill. (There was a full moon, so it was easy to see the path in the dark, and trotting kept me warmer than walking.) Once in the bathroom, however, my body literally siezed at the thought of removing any of my layers and I stood there, frozen in place, arguing with myself to just do it already and get it over with. Several seconds went by before I could muster the courage to override my body's reluctance, but I finally won. When I got back up the hill (again trotting) and upstairs and into my sleeping bag, I was finally warm enough to begin to drift off... until Megan leaned over me and whispered, "Mommy? I have to go potty." Back down the hill we went...

We "woke" at dawn, and took groups down to the bathrooms as they came downstairs. The last crew on Night Watch was still up, so we joined them in finishing the breakfast stuff -- peeling cooked potatoes and cutting them up for country style potatoes, fetching the scrambled eggs out of the fridge (also not available in 1843, but we did have access to on this trip, setting out the orange juice sqeezed in the night.

At this point Ms. Jordan appeared like a vision, carrying a familiar brown carton with a beautiful green circle on the side. What is this? A miracle? It seems an angel on horseback had appeared in the parking lot and handed her a gift from the future: Starbucks coffee in a big package!! Ahhhhhhh! (The Starbucks was (sadly?) very close by, and Ms. Jordan figured it was easier than the tea-bag instants we had brought, plus it was a treat for the hard-working adult volunteers. Isn't she an angel, horseback or not?)

We ate breakfast -- scrambled eggs, country potatoes, egg bread biscuits, leftover jicama and apple from dinner, and orange juice -- and cleaned up the dishes as best we could. (Here is a confession: We ran out of dish soap during dinner. During my night watch I went to the bathroom and squirted several pumps' worth of handsoap into the container, and we used that to wash the rest of the trip's dishes. Probably that was in violation of a few codes or whatever, but we decided if we sent someone to the store they might not return... so it was the safest bet to keep all of the adults on site.)

Cleaning up the site meant putting everything back exactly as we'd found it, from mats to tables to benches to cookware. The ranger inspected each dish to make sure it was clean and properly dry before checking it off a long list, and sending a child or two to carry it to its proper location. (This job -- the checking off of dishes -- was quite possibly the ranger's highlight of each trip. She was very, very, very diligent in her duties as inspector. Really. Very.) Shockingly we passed -- even with the "dishsoap" --and we began to have the kids carry our belongings back down the hill to the parking lot.

We arrived at the school in a tired mess of humanity and belongings, all dusty, grimy, and reeking of woodsmoke, but strangely elated. We'd done it... we'd gone back in time, and experienced life in the 1840s! We looked like the walking dead -- especially those of us adults who'd averaged 20 minutes of sleep all night -- but we had survived the field trip of a lifetime!

LETTERS...

For a week now the letters have been on our fridge, spelling out Thomas' message to Uncle Jay. Each time I see them, I choke up, and hope...

Uncle Jay is my brother, Jason. He's two years younger than me, but decades younger in playfulness. He's a dad, but he's a bigger kid than any of his children... and there's no sign of that changing anytime soon.

On Christmas Eve Jason gave his kids electric guitars -- with amplifiers -- which they got to tote back to the house they share with their mother, grandparents, and great grandma. As soon as the presents were opened, Jay helped the kids plug in and they all began flailing away madly on the strings, making a noise that could be mistaken for Rudpolph passing a kidney stone. Thomas gets a little wound up when things get that crazy-noisy (which is ironic, since he is the source of most noise, most days) and he kept covering his ears to escape the cacophony. Matt and I retreated to the kitchen, to finish making dinner, and Jason slipped out front to smoke a cigarette.

Like many smokers, Jason is hooked. Even a close relative getting a diagnosis of lung cancer didn't make him want to stop... but then, the relative didn't quit, either, even when the doctor wouldn't do surgery until she'd been smoke-free for ten days. For five months she kept smoking, and finally the doctors put her in the hospital to force her to stop... and then they removed half of one of her lungs. Jason went to visit her, but he lit up as soon as he came out of the hospital... That's the power of nicotine.

When Jason came back in, Thomas brought him to the kitchen and arranged four letters on the fridge: Q-U-I-T.

In the living room the guitars -- still not tuned, but oh-so-amplified -- twanged away with a merry beat. The kids were hollering over the noise, adding to it, and then playing louder to cover up the yelling.

"Hey, buddy, are you spelling 'quiet'?" Jay asked. He laughed, but it was with a note of amazement. I looked over and was impressed, too... who knew Thomas could attempt 'quiet'?

But Thomas wasn't spelling 'quiet.' He came over to Jay and began patting his jacket pockets, looking for something. Jason looked at me, puzzled, but I was puzzled, too. Thomas went back to the letters and pushed them more firmly together: Q.U.I.T. Then Thomas lifted his face into the air and blew imaginary smoke.

Now Jason was staring at Thomas. He looked at me, and reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. "Is this what you were looking for, buddy?"

Thomas smiled and made his agreeing sound, "Mm, hmm!" and then ran off to play. He'd gotten his point across; it was time to move on.

The noise from the living room didn't get any quieter, but for a moment there was no sound at all in the kitchen. Matt, Jason and I just stood there, staring at each other and the letters marching across the front of our refrigerator.

Q.U.I.T.

Christmas Lightbulb Moment

Each year we send out about 100 cards.

We got in the habit (or tradition) of sending out photo cards, which have a sentiment printed on them along with our names -- Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, From Our House to Yours, etc. There are some that say a picture is worth a thousand words; others think a card without a note is right up there with re-gifting fruitcakes.

I like to stay in touch, and share with our friends and family, but each year I struggle with the "what else should I add?" dilemma. It's difficult to write something on the photo cards with regular pens, and some Sharpies don't lend themselves to long, chatty letters.

This year I had a Christmas Lightbulb Moment, and I printed out some slips of paper to add to our cards that said,
"In lieu of a Christmas letter, please check out our blog for stories and photos of our lives! :)

http://mamabear.pnn.com"

Dear Friends and Family,

Well, we survived another year!

Matt's loving his job, despite layoffs all around him. One of the highlights of 2008 was his sister Andrea's wedding, where he got to give her away on a beach in Florida...

I quit my crazy-making job as an editor and now am fully enjoying the whistle and 'good tickets' at my job as a yard duty. I am also writing for PNN, the Windsor Times, and on various projects (my children's book is out to agents right now, fingers crossed!)!

Megan is beginning the process of getting braces, but don't worry-- it hasn't affected her ability to click or sing, yet! She's very busy with Taekwondo, Girl Scouts, choir, and of course, fourth grade homework, but she still finds time to read a Harry Potter book or two!

Thomas is busy counting down the days to Christmas, and making regular checks up the chimney to check on Santa's progress. He's adding and subtracting, writing words and sentences, and keeping his teacher and aide on their toes in his first grade classroom, but luckily, he's cuter than a button...

Misha the kitty is fatter than ever, and Emily the guinea pig is fully enjoying being the class pet in Megan's fourth grade room.

Well, that's about it at the LeRoy house, so Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Love, Juliana, Matt, Megan and Thomas

Perfect Weddings and Other Fairy Tales

The big day was a smashing success! Auntie Andrea and Uncle Brendan are happily on their honeymoon cruise of the Caribbean as I write this, with the stress of the wedding fully behind them!

All weddings are stressful, no matter how carefully you plan them. You aim for perfection, which is impossible... You can have great, you can have wonderful, you can have terrific, but perfection is just out of reach -- and it should remain so! There's always an element you CAN'T control, like the weather, or the guests' behavior, or the tiny little goofs that end up happening despite the best-laid plans. The truth is, the overall wedding is perfect, but it's the tiny little unexpected moments that make that perfection superb.

Andrea and Brendan chose to get married on a beach in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. The weather cooperated -- no rain, despite a 30% forecast -- and the wind just made all the fabrics flowy and active. My husband (Andrea's brother) walked her down the aisle, as Andrea's father passed away many years ago, and Dan (Andrea and Matt's brother) danced the traditional Father-Daughter dance with his sister. The bride and groom started a tradtional wedding dance, and then cut to a silly montage of great dances that had the room laughing and cheering them on. But the all-time best moment may have been when this picture was taken...

The happy couple had decided to play a fun song as their processional music. The person in charge of playing the music accidentally pushed the music on at the exact moment that Brendan slid the ring on Andrea's finger. The song? "IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT!"

LOL!

Ten years from now they won't remember the wind, or the feel of the ocean as they waded after photos. They'll remind themselves of the cake and the bridesmaids' dresses as they look at pictures, and they'll marvel at their cute selves... but I can guarantee that this little "boo-boo" will always remain a vivid memory in their hearts and minds. This silly moment in time captures their love, their sense of humor, and their joy on this day... it says it all, doesn't it?

Congratulations to the happy couple, and may your life together be always filled with happily ever after moments! We love you!

Oops!

I got a wild hair and decided to rearrange my pages. I thought I'd move some stuff around, make it easier to find stuff, etc. Well, some articles I wanted to save, but move to another page... so I thought I'd do something like move them to archive, then switch them back to their new home.

Oops.

It doesn't work that way.

Sorry.

I may try to do some copy and paste stuff, but I'm making no promises.

But on the good side, look what I learned today! Another "how not to"!

New Article

Enter Text Here

Autism Facts

According to www.autismspeaks.org, here are the latest facts regarding autism.

*1 in 150 children are diagnosed with autism

*1 in 94 boys are on the autism spectrum

*67 children are diagnosed per day

* A new case is diagnosed almost every 20 minutes

*More children will be diagnosed with autism this year than with AIDS, diabetes and cancer combined.

*Autism costs the nation over $90 billion per year, a figure expected to double in the next decade

*Autism is the fastest growing serious developmental disabilty in the U.S.

*Autism receives less than 5% of the research funding of many less prevalent childhood diseases.

*There is no medical detection or cure for autism.

*Boys are four times more likely than girls to have autism.

New Horizons

The new school for Thomas is working out splendidly; they aren't intimidated by his energy -- they love him, in fact -- and he's thriving. Though he's only been in summer school for a couple of weeks (and sick for half of them), the promise of a wonderful school year is sweet, indeed.

The success of Thomas's school means some changes for me, too. As Matt gently suggested, it's time for me to bring in some more money... because while I adore the yard duty job, it's not exactly swimming in the dough.

I found a position on the school district website that is right up my alley -- paraeducator, which is a fancy word for one-to-one aide. (They fancy up the yard duty job, too: Playground Supervisor. I would have gone with Kid Wrangler, but okay...) To apply you turn in a form (the classified employment application), a resume, and three letters of recommendation.

The form was a cinch, and I easily rounded up three people willing to vouch for me... Leslie, a dear friend whose kids I currently watch; Cari, who is my best friend and a teacher, herself; and Debra, Thomas's special day class teacher for the last two years. (How nice is that?) The resume was a minor speed bump of sorts, because I think the last one I assembled was twelve years ago, but after an hour or so of quasi-panicking I managed to put together the information and have it look mostly resume-like. (It actually looks pretty doggone good, as a matter of fact... all that stressing was for naught! LOL) Finally I called my last two nanny jobs to let them know they could expect a call, and that was that!

I turn in everything tomorrow, and then I guess they review the paperwork and call "qualified prospects" in for an interview.

My goodness...

Perspective

A small article in the newspaper took my breath away this morning.

10-year-old Colby Curtin wanted to see the new Pixar movie, "Up," but she was too sick to go to the theater. This wasn't some summer cold -- this was the big "C," cancer. Colby was dying of vascular cancer, which she was diagnosed with in 2005.

When the previews for "Up" came out, Colby told her mom she wanted to see that movie. When the movie hit theaters, she was too sick to be able to get there... so a family friend called Pixar and Disney Studios. Pixar officials sent someone the next day with a DVD copy of "Up," stuffed animals from the movie, and other fun stuff for Colby. Colby was unable to open her eyes to watch the movie, but her mother described the scenes to her. When it was over, Colby's mom asked her if she enjoyed it, and Colby nodded.

A few hours later Colby slipped from this life.

The mom said she had no idea what "Up" was about, but the balloons rising and the word up gave her a stong feeling that her daughter was going up, up to heaven... and I, for one, believe the same thing.

I also think that Pixar and Disney have a good shot at making it there, too...

I cried when I read this, and I cried when I wrote it. My almost-10-year-old daughter was in the other room, laughing at something her 7-year-old brother did, and all I could think was, "Thank you, thank you..." Thank you for the reminder to appreciate health, and opportunities, and goodness in this world. Thank you for the heart of a company being touched enough to make a dying girl's wish come true.Thank you for a reminder to look up, and see beauty, grace, hope, and love. 

Where'd the Week Go?

According to my calendar, the last week was short... only four days of work and school, with Monday being a holiday... so why do I feel like it was at least three weeks long? Probably because I packed three weeks worth of stuff into it!

To begin with, I should say that I finally succumbed to a sinus infection (stupid allergies have been hideous this year) and on Monday I began a course of antibiotics. To get the proper idea of this week, imagine a stuffed head, crackling ears, a headache and pressure each time I leaned forward -- plus, enough sneezing and blowing to put Kleenex in the black for another quarter.

Tuesday was Field Day at Thomas's school. I volunteered, and offered to be put wherever they needed me most -- which happened to be in the childcare center, watching the little ones of the other parent volunteers. There were a good handful of us in there keeping an eye on the 18 kiddos signed in, so the 3 and a half hours went pretty quickly. I went straight from there to yard duty, and spent another hour and a quarter racing around the lawn with very hot, very tired kids who were done with a capital "D." (The rule of thumb seems to be for every five degrees above 60 Fareneheit, at least two children will need to tattle on a perceived wrongdoing every three minutes. This week we hit the low 80s. Sigh...)

Wednesday was minimum day, but Megan had a choir performance in Healdsburg in the afternoon, to be followed by a potluck picnic dinner at a local park. The performace was actually a taping at a local access television station, so the kids sang for an hour and a half in front of a huge green screen, melting under the hot lights in their all-black ensembles. Poor little munchkins! I dropped off and returned for Meg, and when I got there the kids had strippped off socks and shoes to stand on the cool concrete floor, but there was no water to be had... luckily I carry a case in my van (da-da-da-da-da-da! Super Mommy!), and carrying the handful of bottles into the studio I was rushed by the entire group with gleeful cries of "WATER! THANK GOD!" For all the discomfort, though, the kids did a great job of maintaining... ah, showbiz, eh?

The potluck at the park was fun, too, with hot dogs and lots of fresh strawberries and veggies with dips and of course, the most popular course, desserts. (Strangely enough, many parents brought popsicles as their potluck offering -- clearly making up for the super-hot studio experience!) The magic cookie bars I brought disappeared in no time at all -- maybe that's part of their magic? :)

Thursday was Field Day at Megan's school, and I had signed up to volunteer there, as well. As I was getting into bed on Wednesday night I had that sudden cold dread feeling of "UH oh... Did I sign up to bring some food, too?" Yep. Each class had an assigned category to attend to, and Ms. Jordan's class had "Healthy Snacks." We raced through our morning routine and hit the grocery store, snagging a veggie-and-dip tray to bring as our offering, which was just perfect... whew! When I showed up to do my volunteering, there didn't seem to be anywhere they needed me... so I went to the cafeteria and helped sort the food offerings into some semblance of order. There were tables full of hot dogs --  more packages than I've ever seen in my whole life, just piled up in a huge mound in all sorts of packaging: beef, turkey, chicken, Kosher, ball park, plumping, generic, you name it. The tables (plural: TWO of 'em) next to the hot dogs had mountains of hot dog buns. To the other side of the hot dog table were more chips than most grocery stores have in stock on any three-day weekend:  tortilla chips, plain, ruffled, barbeque, sour cream and onion, sun, and every flavor Dorito the company makes. The drink table had Capri Suns in more flavors than I had ever heard of, too -- fruit punch, lemonade, red berry, strawberry, mixed berry, swizzle berry, island berry, berry red, berry-berry... okay, I can't name them all, but you get the idea. Then there were the desserts... if you can picture it, it was there, with at least three packages' worth on hand. Same with the healthy snacks -- fruit, veggies, crackers, cheese, muffins, granola bars, fruit rolls -- we had it all.

Except, it turns out, a way to cook the hot dogs.

For 300 kids.

So two teams were dispatched to two houses, and my fellow volunteer (and Girl Scout co-leader) and I got to cook a tub o' hot dogs and stuff them in buns, stand them in rows along big cafeteria trays, wrap them in foil, and then drive them back to the school. That took the entire morning, up to yard duty time... but I heard reports later that that lunch was the "best hot dog lunch they'd ever had!!" I think the endless supply of chips and desserts may have had a hand in that, but I welled up with pride, anyway. :)

(Oh... by the way... I now know I don't want to be a cafeteria lady when I grow up... so the day was useful for that bit of info, alone.)

Friday was the last day, but it felt sort of anticlimatic with all the other hurrying I had to do (haircut, grocery store, and going out for an evening with relatives in San Francisco)... In a way, I was glad for the busy-ness, as it prevented me from getting too sad about missing the on-going first graders, and the retiring teachers, and all the friends I've made this year on campus. I'm planning on going back next year, so that's something to look forward to... but it's going to be different with Thomas at anther school and a whole new batch of kindergartners!

The next few days are going to be quiet and dull by comparison... Thank God!! If you need me, I'll be the one in the corner, staring at the wall and mumbling about hot dogs and volunteering and did I forget to pick up that kid --???

The Field Trip : Part One

Back in General Vallejo's day, the rancho he built to be his home was in the middle of nowhere. Hills and fields stretched out as far as the eye could see in every direction, and the land was rich with promise.

Today, a busy road passes right by the structure that Vallejo lived in, with cars whizzing by day and night on their way to bustling cities, extensive subdivisions, or just Starbucks. Across the street is a golf course, airport, and a forest of ugly crouching power grid towers, and then an abrupt wall of unending houses. But once you turn off the road and enter the grounds of the Petaluma Adobe, the trees begin to block out the outside world, and the greens of fields seem to absorb the hustle and bustle of life as we know it. You can imagine the days before cars, before roads, before airplanes, electricity, and lattes...

The field trip began at the school, where we loaded up 7 vehicles with 27 kids and 10 adults and all their gear -- sleeping bags, pillows, duffel bags with changes of clothes and their own washable plates, cups, and silverware -- and enough food for two big meals. (Everyone brought a lunch to eat after unloading at the Adobe, so we had those, too, now that I think of it...) We drove in a little caravan down 101 to Petaluma, and made our way out to what used to be the boonies but is now just the edge of another neighborhood.

When we got to the parking lot, we shifted all the gear to the sidwalk and waited for the Ranger, who directed the CHILDREN to carry each and every bit up the hill to the Adobe. She also pointed out our bathroom for the next 24 hours (right next to the parking lot, which was down the hill a ways from the actual Adobe) and began to instruct us on what to expect on our trip.

There were three safety rules -- "go home rules," they were called -- and they involved the fires (stay away), wandering off (don't), and running (don't -- the ground was uneven and unsafe). If we saw a child run, we were told to say, "GO GET WOOD." The child then had to take their little selves around the corner of the building to a woodpile and get a piece of wood, carry it back to the courtyard, and stack it in the woodpile nearest the fires. If an adult said, "Stop running" instead of "Go get wood" the CHILD could say, "GO GET WOOD" and the ADULT would have to... (I have been trained to say positives rather than negatives, or what I want the kids to do, rather than what I don't want them to do... for example, "Walking, please," instead of "Don't run." The ranger said nope, that counted as a case for the kids to tell me to get wood, and I got sent to retrieve a piece from the pile. It's amazing how quickly you train yourself to say "GO GET WOOD" when it saves you a hike to the woodpile!)

This trip was an experiential trip, so the kids were supposed to do everything -- we adults were merely facilitators. They'd try making candles, candleholders, paper flowers, and baskets, as well as attempting some wool carding and spinning and doing some cooking.

The kids went through a series of stations to try all the tasks available, and we adults manned the stations for each group. My station was cooking, and each group had some tasks to complete to make dinner: Chop tomatoes and onions for salsa. Put chicken pieces on to boil with onions and garlic. Cut lemons and squeeze for lemonada. (And the citrus juicer was somehow broken, so they literally had to squeeze the lemons to get the juice -- all 75 lemons!) Get beans soaked and boiling for frijoles. More chopping of tomatoes, onions, garlic and peppers for salsa. Stir the chicken. Cool the chicken. Cut up the chicken. We cut, squeezed, stirred, and cooked for six hours... all with water toted in from one spigot at the edge of the yard, carried in big black canning pots by two children at a time. The cooking itself was done on a stove with three burners -- which was really three fire pits, with grills above them to rest pots and pans on -- and two of our dads were on Fire Duty to keep those stoves going. (They had PLENTY of wood, believe me! Our kids couldn't stop running, and they all got caught and sent to the woodpile -- some so often I'm shocked they still have a woodpile!) There was no knob to fiddle with to turn up heat, or turn down heat -- or to gauge how hot the heat was... it was trial and error, boil and "MORE WOOD, PLEASE!"

When we sat down to dinner, the meal was amazing -- fresh salsa, salad, chicken, rice, beans, tortillas and lemonade -- and the kids were very impressed with themselves, as well they should be! It was delicious, and satisfying in that way that food cooked and eaten outdoors always seems to be.

Cleaning up was fun. (Did you hear the gritted teeth?) We had three big tubs, and we had to tote water in with those canning pots, heat it on the fires, and set up a wash bucket, rinse with bleach bucket, and final rinse bucket. Two full canning pots would fill one wash bucket about a third of the way full... so the whole process was tortuously slow. Each child was supposed to wash his or her own dishes, and then move on to dry them. We had them scrape as much stuff off the plates before the plates went into the water, but the water still got really gross really quick, and the replacement water was not heated up yet... The final child rinsed the final plate as the storyteller was arriving, and while they went in to listen to vivid tales of long ago the adults began washing the many, many pots, pans, and utensils required to make the meal...

The moon came up during the storyteller's visit, and it was gloriously full in the sky as we dried and put away the last pot, then rinsed and dried out the wash tubs. The children came out of the story ready for another walk down the hill to the bathroom, and then a climb up the stairs to the fandango room, where our sleeping bags awaited us... until it was our turn for Night Watch, and still more chores.

(Stay tuned for Part Two of The Field Trip!)

BACK IN TIME

For two days I will be completely out of touch... I am travelling back in time to the 1840s, along with my daughter's fourth grade class, for a living field trip. 

For just about 24 hours we will be immersed in the life of a Rancho, learning about day-to-day life -- the cooking, candle-making, basket-weaving, spinning and weaving, and more -- as well as sleeping in the 150-year-old structure that is a state historical landmark... in costumes! No cell phones, iPods, video games, money, or other "futuristic" things are allowed... we're going postitively primitive! (I am bringing my camera, though, and I expect to get a ton of fun pics to share here when I return!)

Congratulations! ~ SEND!

A good friend of mine became a grandmother on Valentine's Day to a baby girl named Adrianna. Amy sent out a picture of the new baby -- I think there's a law that you have to, if you are a grandmother -- and the baby is of course beautiful, darling, and precious, as all newborns should be. I'm looking forward to following Baby Adrianna in photos for the next several years and hearing sweet stories about cute things the little one is doing or saying, but it is doubtful that I'll meet the tot anytime soon.

Heck, I've never met my friend!

See, Amy and I are pen pals, via email. We met through a posting board set up for the Institute of Children's Literature students, and we hooked up to gather a group of interested NaNo'ers for our first attempt at the month-long writing challenge. We had a lot in common -- especially the same sense of humor -- and we became close friends, emailing several times a week. Amy lives in upper New York state, and I am about as far as you can get away from there and still be in the continental United States... smack dab on the edge of the map of California, just north of San Francisco.

Distance doesn't matter when you connect, though. We've shared and commiserated about family stuff (which is global; EVERYONE has something to moan about in that area) and about writing goals, successes, and setbacks. We've laughed together (LOL and ROFL and the occasional ROFLMAO) and shared a few sad moments; we've waited with bated breath for lab results and doctor's advice and school rulings; we've learned about each other's likes, dislikes, and absolute fears. We've exchanged Christmas cards and even a few presents over the last few years, but most of all we connect over the internet.

One night I said something about "telling Amy something" to Matt, and he got a puzzled look on his face. "Have you ever really talked to her?" I blinked. I "talk" to her almost every day... via email... doesn't that count? I've never met Amy in person, granted, but I consider her a friend, and I start conversations about her as such: "My friend Amy..."

I realized how often I refer to people here on PNN in much the same way. I'll be talking about a particular post someone has made and I'll say, "My friend in Costa Rica..." or "My friend in Florida..." (you know who you are!) and then go on to share whatever wisdom I've gleaned from their writing. My "in person" friends and family are used to it now, and don't question it anymore. That's good, because I'm sure I'll be talking about Baby Adrianna quite a bit in the upcoming years!

Congratulations, Amy! Here's a cyber hug for you (( )) and a package will be arriving soon via snail mail, with a little something for Adrianna and a little something for her awesome grandma! Love and kisses, Jules

Only Jen!

One of the most amazing people in the world happens to be my niece Jenifer, who in her mid-20s has already lived a more full life than many octogenarians.

I don't get to see Jen as often as I'd like, because she lives in LA and can only get up to her parents' place in Chico every so often, but she's got a good excuse for being so busy: Jen is working on her doctorate, having earned her masters at Stanford. (I attended Nanny College, so my five months of education seem a bit... light by comparison. LOL) She also works with at-risk youth in inner cities, travels to other countries to experience their culture-- she's all about riding the rickety bus up the mountain next to the woman balancing a crate of live chickens on her lap -- and experiences life with an exuberance and delight that is contagious.

My dad and I were talking a few minutes ago and he asked if I knew where Jen had spent the Inauguration. Instantly I guessed Washington, DC, figuring she'd be in the thick of it, but I was wrong. Turns out she was in AFRICA, having traveled to the village where Barack Obama's father grew up to watch the momentous occasion! I guess she basically re-created the journey Barack Obama took when he went back to see the village, but the train was no longer running, and there were no taxis. Jen got there by riding on the back of a moped, driven by a local man. As they drove around with Jen's wild-and-curly blonde mop waving in their wake, people stopped to shout, "We love America!"

Good news, America! We had the perfect person representing us in Kenya -- and I'm not just saying that because I'm a proud Auntie, either!

How Trained Are We?

As dictated by tradition, we got together with our best friends to watch the Super Bowl game this weekend. There were fun drinks and appetizer-y foods, lots of laughter and cheering, and a sense of being a part of a bigger whole -- what was that factoid about the number of toilets flushing at halftime? The kids ran in and out of the backyard, the adults ran in and out of the kitchen, and when the much-awaited time came, we all gathered around the set to see the thing we had been promised: the 3-D commercial of Monsters vs. Aliens.

I have a snap of the room that looks like a shot from the history books, when people packed picnic meals to go watch the atomic explosions in the desert outside of Las Vegas. Every face has a set of glasses on, every face is turned to a source of light, every face has the same "impress me" look... the only difference is we didn't get bathed in radiation, just persuasion: "Mom! Hey, Mom! I want to go see that movie!"

The glasses were cheap giveaways, just cardboard and thin sheets of blue and red plastic, but they were worth their weight in advertising dollars. How many people obediently put on the inexpensive shades to stare dutifully at the promo for a movie that is still what, six or eight weeks out? That is some powerful juju there, let me tell you! I've been paying attention to commercials more than usual lately, because my son is becoming aware of them. That Snuggie infommercial has been captured and paused on TiVo so often it may as well be a show in its own right... all it needs is a theme song. "It's Snuggie! Cozy Snuggie! The blanket with cozy arms! It's Snuggie! Cozy Snuggie! We'll cover you with our charms!" (Oh, man, I'm so sorry for even giving advertisers that idea! I take it back, really! We don't need theme songs for infommercials!)

The game itself was exciting to watch, and there were several plays that were terribly impressive, if somewhat disappointing (I was rooting for the Cardinals). As usual, I got wrapped up in the unsportmanlike behavior, and I wished I could have the ear of that Steelers player who was hitting the Cardinals guy down on the ground, even as he tried to get up. (He would so be on time out, let me tell you right now! I'd have handed down the team penalty, then tossed the guy from the game, then fined him.) The halftime show was... well... a typical halftime show, sort of over-the-top and sad in a "don't you know you're too old to do that" sort of way. (Glory Days was especially poignant, don't you think?)

Overall, though, the afternoon was a smashing success. The billions of dollars that went to pizzas, chips, sodas and beer should stimulate the economy, and the sales of the Terrible Towel will aid a school in Pennsylvania school for autistic and mentally retarded people, so for that I'm grateful. Congratulations to the Pittsburgh Steelers, and hey, good game to the Arizona Cardinals! Did you guys know there's a movie coming out in March called Monsters vs. Aliens? I can loan you my 3-D glasses if you want...

The Beginning of a Whole New Decade

When people hear I'm turning 40, the most common comment is along the "don't worry, it's not as bad as all that" line, which of course makes you wonder why everyone is protesting so much. "40 is the new 30," one friend said. "40 is when things really get going," another said. "40 is nothing; now, 50, on the other hand..."

There are a handful of birthdays that strike people as biggies: 10, for the first double-digit birthday; 16 for the driver's license; 21 for the chance to toast the day; and then the solid decade markers -- 30, 40, 50, 60, etc. I mark the "golden birthdays," too -- the age that is the same as your birthdate, so for me it was my 27th. These dates are fun, and get just that little extra bit of attention because of their importance...

This year marks a new decade, and a new period in my life. The last ten years have been mostly about bringing up my children, doing the pregnant, nursing, toddler on the hip thing. It was a fulfillment of a life-long dream, and I thoroughly enjoyed the moments, knowing they would fly quickly by...which they did, despite the long, slow days! Now both kids are solidly in school, and I'm stretching my writing goals to bigger and bigger results. I see my 40s as a productive, rewarding decade, full of creativity and fun.

Maybe it's an attitude, or a gift, or a combination of both, but I don't feel like I'm old yet. I still look around and wonder when I'll feel like a grownup, or when I won't feel like an imposter at the big table at Thanksgiving. I blink in surprise to hear that our new president is only seven years older than me -- "But he's a grownup!"

I guess I'm just really in touch with my inner child... however old she is!